Saturday, September 23, 2006

the word is odious, daaaahling...

I awoke this morning to a sumo wrestler sitting atop my head. Okay, maybe it just feels that way. Also, my body is currently in the process of trying to calculate the exact physics involved in the hacking up of at least one of my lungs. Perhaps I will be permitted to keep one and thus continue to live. We are still in negotiations on that one. I do so hate when my biological processes join together to stage a coup. It's so inconvenient. Don't they know that I have things to do?

In other news, Backhome Vet v.1, (Not Backhome Vet v.2; the one who caused this) was consulted on Thursday afternoon. As far as he's concerned, the giant lump on Backhome Cat's face that responded to antibiotics is an absess. However, he would like to see the old man in ten days. At which point we may finally be granted an x-ray to give us some clarity on the "cancer/no-cancer?" issue. Needless to say, I am feeling somewhat less than patient, but markedly more hopeful. Thanks to everyone for their postive thoughts/prayers/other beseechings of various deities. There is light at the end of the tunnel. We just have to get him through the next 10 days or so, so I appreciate y'all hangin in.

The bright spot of my very long Thursday was arriving home to the telltale Canada Post delivery slip, meaning I have a package present waiting for me at the post office. Em and I walked our friend/coworker A to the subway and picked up the box on the way back to my apartment. I opened it to find......

Yarn Booty

Ah, glorious yarn booty. How I love thee, let me count the ways. I can finally make all the backordered hats.

And see those three hanks at the back there? Those...THOSE are sock yarn. Of the undyed variety. Fabulous fall socks v.2 will be mine!! This will be my very first venture into the world of DIY yarn dying, but I've always been a big Kool-Aid fan. It can't be that hard, right? (Feel free to remind me of this foolhardy statement should disaster strike somewhere down the road.)

Not much has been happening in my creative world lately. An inordinate amount of my time seems to be consumed in the daily machinations of being a law student. More and more I wonder why I'm here. And did I mention that Ignorant Young Man (see here, below the single close-up) is on my duty counsel shift? Of all the shifts and all the people at that clinic, he had to end up on mine. And he can't let it go either. He brought it up again at our behind the desk training. I think I'm gonna need more tea....

However, I am on the lookout for a lyricist; a collaborator; a partner-in-crime. This song of mine is beginning to cast far too long a shadow in my apartment. It aches to be written. I have a chorus. I know what it's about. I just can't find the right words, and I refuse to be cliche. I'll have to see where intuition will take me, I suppose. Feel free to interject if y'all have some magical exercise/process/trick that might help...


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