Saturday Morning

Irregular morning. And you know that I am a routine type of guy.

Pop was shooting for a 9 a.m. departure time. But that's the time they just managed to get up. This makes for a very late breakfast for me. Fortunately, I found my balls and just went into the whirlwind of their little breakfast and conversation to get my cake and tea, and I did the best that I could with Kay's effort to engage me as though I were a regular sociable person.

And I wasn't able to hold on to any dreams from last night, not even the least snippet. I was getting kind of spoiled; I was starting to count on getting at least one per night. Of course, it doesn't work like that. It's like the weather. It rains when it rains, and there can be sustained droughts. I knew that, but sometimes I need to be reminded.

* * *

1205

They left. I used the rest of the morning on a good wank. ... Those Japanese: what would Internet pornography be without them (even with that damn blurring - that fig leaf)?

Late Day

A two o'clock lunch, a four o'clock nap - I told you I was running late today.

LiveJournal

Yesterday, I posted at PolitiCartoons and dropped a comment at Pig Shit's blog. I don't know. Maybe there is no point in burning all my bridges. Why not let things die down more slowly? One of my problems is that I have a tendency to be melodramatic. To be sure, I am not posting any more at my blog there. That is defintely a dead livejournal.

Chores

Pop is not expected to return until Monday. I'd like to get some things done in the meantime, including a shave tomorrow. Right now, very late in the day, almost six, I guess I'll start with washing the bedding in the big room.

Connections

A hallway dialogue. In this one, I am given an excerpt to read from my own old journal, and it is as though I do not recognize my own writing. My audience on this one consists of, no less, some of my law school professors, including Joy. In this Old Journal entry, in which I am ruminating over my failure, I am talking about how I should not really complain about not having any connections, for who was Dr. G? And at law school, I had a class with Wright, the leading constitutional scholar in the country. My problem wasn't the absence of connections. I simply did not have the game to make those connections click and go electric. For instance, as I had written in this Old Journal entry, when Wright called on that hot chick at the beginning of the semester who was unable to give the answer to his question, if I had game, I could have stepped up and said, "If I may, professor!" Everyone laughs and Wright is nodding and smiling. I continued reading: "See, if I had some game, right there, I would have been on my way, beginning my thirty-year trek to the Supreme Court to give American law my own special imprimatur."

That Bee Hive

Before it got too dark, I gave that beehive at Pop's window another good dousing. I am a little scared of the prospect of taking the broom to it and knocking it down, even though I have still not seen one actual buzzing bee there. It spooks the fuck out of me. That thing looks like it could house a hundred stinging bees, and just a dozen will really, really ruin your day - maybe even scar you for life, both physically and emotionally. I'll have to see what it looks like tomorrow morning, I guess. I can't just leave it.

Hand of God

I wonder if I am just in a more receptive mood to movies and television shows. After loving and being enthralled to the movie "Time Lapse" last night, I now find myself utter absorbed in the new Amazon series "Hand of God" starring Ron Perlman and Dana Delany. I have only finished the third episode, but the pace does not seem to slacken. I still have some kitchen chores to do, and I want to read some more Mann, but I expect to watch the fourth episode before going to bed. I wonder if I still have a soft spot for Christianity... Considering the thrill that "Time Lapse" game me, I definitely do not seem to have a problem with supernatural elements in my story. Maybe this is just a streak, or maybe I should give greater consideration to weird stories, not that I have been hostile and averse to them before. The novel "The Book of Strange New Things" comes to mind, to speak of recent imaginative engagements, as there have been a lot of such fare in my literary and movie diet over the years. It's just that I tend to be dismissive, like I need movies and novels to be 'real'. What one really wants is for it to be interesting, and a strange twist or two on the normal constraints of physics and everyday reality might help with that.