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I'm sitting here in a lovely borrowed home with a huge masters bed, soft carpets and pleasant art having trouble to cope with all the mixture of feelings going around inside. The geek is exhausted, he's worked 10 days with no break, full time head on, and me? The only thing I have been doing is building up tension, mostly in my old left shoulder that was disjointed once upon a time.
In a month I need to have a skeleton thesis ready and sent to my professor....it feels surreal.
We, me and the geek are not at home, we house sit the geeks friend Suzy's place while she's away to Oregon with her boyfriend.
Vinnie, the Italian greyhound is a funny little creature, always wearing a sweater of some sort and looking quite gay...with his big soulful eyes, tiny pointy snout, thin ratty tail and...quite gay set of sweaters. I like him though, he has integrity spine and balls, even if he is on the verge of freezing his little ass off every time the climate is not mediterranean. You need to protect him however, because he has such balls for his size, he could easily become snack food for anything between a larger dog and a raccoon.
And then there's Rusty the bird and and the fishes in the tanks to take care of, and that's what we're getting payed for.
This holiday means nothing to me, but it's fun to observe, and I have a very small turkey in the oven and stuffing, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole to prepare. Vinnie will look less gay when he tears apart the white meat, I'm sure.
I meat an old mexican lady a few weeks ago - the kind that mixes cristian and indian beliefs into a kind of church of it's own. Our meeting was by chance, but we got talking, and she lifted her hairy chin and raised a seventy five old eyebrow at me, saying: big spirits are fighting over you, and you are cleansing yourself. God wanted us to meet and talk. (I almost asked: which god would that be? - but didn't, since I got the answer from her having to correct herself from saying "spirits" to "the holy spirit" all the time, thinking I'd mind, being a "cristian "westerner and all.)
Oh well...if she would suck an egg out of my body and it would crack and show black, at least there would be a telling' of what was walking over my grave.
Time for a no nonsense state of mind I guess, and chamomile tea at night.
In a month I need to have a skeleton thesis ready and sent to my professor....it feels surreal.
We, me and the geek are not at home, we house sit the geeks friend Suzy's place while she's away to Oregon with her boyfriend.
Vinnie, the Italian greyhound is a funny little creature, always wearing a sweater of some sort and looking quite gay...with his big soulful eyes, tiny pointy snout, thin ratty tail and...quite gay set of sweaters. I like him though, he has integrity spine and balls, even if he is on the verge of freezing his little ass off every time the climate is not mediterranean. You need to protect him however, because he has such balls for his size, he could easily become snack food for anything between a larger dog and a raccoon.
And then there's Rusty the bird and and the fishes in the tanks to take care of, and that's what we're getting payed for.
This holiday means nothing to me, but it's fun to observe, and I have a very small turkey in the oven and stuffing, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole to prepare. Vinnie will look less gay when he tears apart the white meat, I'm sure.
I meat an old mexican lady a few weeks ago - the kind that mixes cristian and indian beliefs into a kind of church of it's own. Our meeting was by chance, but we got talking, and she lifted her hairy chin and raised a seventy five old eyebrow at me, saying: big spirits are fighting over you, and you are cleansing yourself. God wanted us to meet and talk. (I almost asked: which god would that be? - but didn't, since I got the answer from her having to correct herself from saying "spirits" to "the holy spirit" all the time, thinking I'd mind, being a "cristian "westerner and all.)
Oh well...if she would suck an egg out of my body and it would crack and show black, at least there would be a telling' of what was walking over my grave.
Time for a no nonsense state of mind I guess, and chamomile tea at night.
