Tegan and Sara - Dancing in the Dark

Time.

“Time is rhythm: the insect rhythm of a warm humid night, brain ripple, breathing, the drum in my temple—these are our faithful timekeepers; and reason corrects the feverish beat.”


I'm reading Ada.
I am exhausted.
I have been knitting.

I spent the day, restless and bristled by the apparent swarms of people lining up to ask me when I'm going to get a "real" job.
As though my current one was somehow just a fantasy.
As if I spent my days hustling or some such nonsense.
As if this line of questioning was both reasonable and socially acceptable.

I've decided to start answering it with my own question:
When are you going lose some "real" weight?

I still cannot access your blog.
Wordpress is demanding that I create a blog with them.
It will not allow me to choose a username.
It alternates between (the user name of your choice) is not available
and
(the username of your choice) already exists. Is (the username of your choice) you? log in!
I am unclear on why there is a distinction between not available and already exists.
If it already exists, wouldn't it also be unavailable?
I am convinced that it is personal.
But that may be the exhaustion speaking.
I will try again tomorrow.


I received your quote list, which for the record, is an amazing collection of literary snippets.
How will you be distinguishing between them?
Typography?
I am struggling with visualization.
But again, that may also be because my brain is more or less asleep already.
I will text you regarding this tomorrow. :)



Tomorrow morning I am going hiking.
Come hell or high water.
Tomorrow I will test out my new camera.


For now, I am going to bed.
ALL my love.
A very, very, VERY tired LittleFoot.

Song of the Day!

Father did you miss me, Don't ask me where I've been.
You know I know. Yes, I've been told, I redefine sin.
I don't know what's driving me to put this in my head.
Maybe I wish I could die, maybe I am dead
Heresy

For the laughs that I fake. I am going to hell.
For the vows that I break. I am going to hell.

For the ways that I hurt, when I'm hiking out my skirt.
I am sittin' on a throne while they're buried in the dirt.

For the man that I hate. I am going to hell.

Heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.

Song of the Day!

My mother loved M&M's

Every time I eat them I think, "My mother loved M&M's".

This is one of the few things attached to the memory of my mother that doesn't bother me. (Unlike other vestiges of her memory; canned salmon, egg salad sandwiches, Hansen's Soda.) I think maybe this is because my clearest memories of the M&M's my mother ate were from before the tan/blue swap in the mid 90's. (I never liked the blue M&M's, for the record, and I miss the old color scheme. Now they just seem...neon-y and alien. And yes, this nostalgia for the old set does feel contradictory.)

Today I was beyond exhausted. (And I remain beyond exhausted despite my two hour nap following my shift). At some point, craving a Kit-Kat, I found myself swaying in front of the vending machine at work, glaring at the one empty slot where my Kit-Kat should be, eyes glazed over from the mix of sleep deprivation, hypothermia, and sorrow over my missing chocolate.

Drats.

Another selection had to be made. My back up choice of Cheetos was also suspiciously out of stock, leading me to suspect that this was some sort of planned personal slight at me by either other employees, or the vending machine conglomerate as a whole. That might just be the lack of sleep talking though.

I stood, trying to figure out whether I should resort to my third choice, or just abandon my junk food quest altogether. My money was already in the machine and so I was already too invested to walk away. Pushing the coin return button seemed like work. Work without chocolate-y pay off. And that was unreasonable.

M&M's (the peaunut ones) and Reese's Pieces stood side by side behind the glass. Mocking my indecision.

I punched in my selection and wandered out to eat them in the sunshine, hoping to warm up just a little bit.

'My mother loved M&M's,' I thought again, as I popped my candies into my mouth. 'but Reese's Pieces are a million times better'. I laughed out loud in a way only the delirious and the very young do and crammed a fist full of candies into my mouth, making Pam's 'bear claws! *om-nom-nom-nom*' sounds, a-la Archer.

And that's pretty much how the whole day has gone.
Miss your face.

In the Orchard

Up to.

Dear Friend, I've been trying to figure out how to articulate what exactly I've been up to, but I can't quite figure out how. I am both up to many, many things, and simultaneously nothing at all.

Time passes by at a slippery and nearly intangible clip.
I am drifting from weekend to weekend.

My thoughts regarding The Great American Novel intensify but I am unsure how exactly to proceed at this point. I am waiting for my thoughts to coalesce, I suppose, which feels somehow unhelpful.

I have been (as always) climbing all the things. Havasupai, Boulder Canyon (to Indian Paint Mines), and Hutch's Pool, being just a few of my more recent weekend trips. My hiking buddy is currently...indisposed...definitely for this weekend, with brief windows of availability for the next month. I am hoping to get to summit Picketpost next weekend, or the one after, I would like to do a South to South R2R before November hits and I am forced to buy crampons and confront my fear of snow...specifically snow at the Grand Canyon, which is in fact, the root of my snow-fear. But the government continues to be shut down, and despite constant chatter about it, the state of the NP's remains a hot mess.

I have been super social, or rather, super social on a LittleFoot scale (which is really not terribly social at all) as of late. It has been fun, but also exhausting. I am continually running on a spoon deficit and I know this will backfire on me before long. My goal is to spend the rest of my weekend in silence - total and complete silence - and to hope that it rejuvenates me enough to get me through the next week. I NEED some time alone. Totally alone. Alone with my own thoughts in my own house before I go crazy. :) Silence and solitude are practically currency at this point.

What else? I can't access your blog anymore because you've changed the privacy settings. I need an invite and a password, apparently. I can see that you are posting, but am unable to read the actual posts. I did receive your quotes text message for approval, but it came as a string of 49 text messages, shuffled, naturally, and have not yet had the time to sit down to try to piece all of them back together correctly. What are you thinking for this piece? Will you be distinguishing different fragments typographically? (Because clearly that would be awesome!)

For now, these are all the things I know.

As always, I miss you more than I have words for, and I wish you were here. I hope things there are looking up, that your back is getting better, and that you got to enjoy at least SOME of your week off. Sending all my love, as always.