Unfortunately, I did pay my brother, so I'm sorta a loss here. Where's my new laptop? Hong Kong? Xandu? Jersey? Is saving two-hundred dollars worth the uncertainties of delivery? A couple of weeks ago it was. The second I tear it outta the box, I'll be sure of it.
Till then, who knows.
I like how the blogging spell editor doesn't bug me about an abbreviated form of 'till' without an apostrophe. Because 'till' is still a word. We used it all the time on the farm. With the Brits. Fah-ming. Gahd-ning.
I want to draw now.
I have officially resumed the 'late to bed, early to rise' stupidity of my college years. Because night time's so nice and quiet and not full of distractions and blank that it suits my monastically austere activities. How ironic! My life becomes a goofy parody of the nocturnal frat boys-- truly, they be my soul weights, the little rubber triangle stopper wedged beneath the door to my fulfillment.
I raise my empty water bottle in their honor.
Despondent teens, farmhands in heat, bonnets, log cabins, and apple pie: frontier living had it all.
