no more pharting around.

most of last week sucked. i was too busy to be happy.

points of brightness, of course, were my boy, my family, my friends and zim.

pharts.

lest i only write when i'm happy, today sucks.

you win some, you don't win some.

i just got an empty, sealed classic series wrapper.

dust bunnies and pollen pee-wees

allergies are killing me.

fortunately i can go to intermountain allergy to see what is driving my histamines crazy.

unfortunately i can't do anything about it, except surrender more of my sense of smell to 6-hour (24-hour? yeah right?) allergy relief medication.

everyday i'm away from you shakes

birthday celebration at the museum
followed by mrowing zim
followed by yoga with friends
followed by feeding dickie
followed by a run
followed by friends
and now a firework show.

but one someone is missing.

gentle kitten soul

i'm trying to make his life comfortable while he's around.

life is such a dark, dreamy thing.

from die antwoord's tribute to leon botha.

wish it weren't so.

gil scott heron will be missed.

The Tallest Man On Earth - Where Do My Bluebird Fly (Live on KEXP)

a cold day in the garden

and you're trying to sew together the pieces of your heart.

yoga
friendship
birthday party
frog feeding
granola
zim

wishing on spring.

listen.

today, i love you, but you aren't so kind to me always.

dad's birthday (it's muslim for Insha'Allah)
international womens' day (revolt)
mardi gras (i ate a donut that looked just like a simpson's donut)
the little fat boy (is a sad young thing)
a friend pulls through (if a year had a million days, i'd thank you every one)
mozzarella (and cherry tomatoes)
lake salt great (two friends remind me what i love)
snow (we don't know who to believe)

forgive me my naïveté.

in the fake plastic earth

chris jordan's artwork

day of the dead.

i feel like i'm going through a breakup.






ps i love my dear friends.

ahora, sí, estoy enamorada

the serviceberry leaves are red.
the oaks are dropping acorns.
the bigtooth maple leaves are sugary and falling.
the male tarantulas are wandering.

today, i found a dead bumblebee clinging to a rabbitbrush stem.

everyday with the garden will be missed.

Por donde fuimos, islas o puentes o banderas,
violines del fugaz otoño acribillado,
repitió la alegría los labios de la copa,
el dolor nos detuvo con su lección de llanto.

Soneto XXVIII, Neruda.

in love with this song.

blood and dust.

i have to fill my tank today, or i will run out of gas the next time i drive.

(and i don't want to live through another "running out of gas" incident. always ridiculously embarassing.)

so here's the problem:

i started working at red butte garden (which is my new boyfriend by the way. i love it/him very much) and i haven't figured out the bus schedule/shuttle schedule/etc yet. so i've been driving. the fatty. fatty fatkins. and though he is a kind and reliable friend, i don't love driving him.

i miss my little walk to the bus stop. i miss seeing my favorite tree on 27th south. i miss my little friends, who wear rain bonnets and say HELLO so very loudly, who discuss the weather with me. i miss zoning out and staring out the window for approximately 15 minutes each way.

absence makes the heart frown, sometimes imperceptibly. i need to figure this out.