standing like a statue. 11.06.04

this morning i found myself out in the cold for hours, loading up boxes into my father's mammoth dodge ram. it couldn't have been more that 45 degrees. i blew into my fingers, wrapped in baseball gloves. crawled along the truck bed to secure items. taught myself what i think is a hangman's knot. looked into the sky and tried to locate constellations i knew in my youth, standing next to boxes and a file cabinet, lovingly roped into place. i wished my father adieu, and my brother and mother who are accompanying him south, as if on a life changing journey (into the redlands?), then i realized i promised raycroft that i would meet him early.

it's midday. early didn't happen.

marge, i know you have cindy visiting-- she's really freakin' cool, isn't she-- but don't get all filthy with her. she might slap you. actually, i think she'd laugh. have fun! and be nice, not the suckass cloying sycophant you tend to be.