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[DIARY ARCHIVES]
Friday
- July 11, 2003
Hello Mr. Nose, I Trust You Remember Ms.
Grindstone?
*** WE INTERRUPT THIS DIARY ENTRY FOR
A SPECIAL BULLETIN ***
It has just come to my attention that Jack
Henslee is having a Christmas
in July Print Sale this month only.
Many of you may well shop for and delight yourselves. Anyone
wishing to delight *me* should know that I am aching to add the
below pieces to my Henslee print collection. Just instruct him
to ship to Doxy -- he knows the addy.
/shameless begging for
scrumptious art.
Don't I make it sound like I'm
doing hard labor carrying anvils uphill or something? Fuckmeat
sandwhiches, the end of a vacation is just a growly day, no
matter how much you enjoy your job.
Well, regardless, vacation is over. C'est la vie. I am relaxed,
brown, and ready to get down ;-)
It is an odd thing -- taking a vacation when you are
self-employed. There isn't really anyone to check in with. No
one who is going to deride you if you extend an extra day.
Nothing but your own inner work-a-holic to coax you back to the
dregs of reality.
Of course, I have the large plus of enjoying a reality that
doesn't include all that many dregs. Recently, I was given pause
to reflect that I have pretty much the job I want with pretty
much the hours I want to work it and making more or less the
money I'd like to make for it. I am, in effect, getting away
with something, and part of me expects to be called on it any
day now.
Man in Black: Miss Wringer, you're having entirely too
much fun. The aliens are here to anally probe you now and take
you back to where you came from.
Doxy: Oh! Perks!
(Ignore the alien references, that's Freudian -- or, possibly
Kafka-influenced -- psychological undercurrent stemming from the
isolation of working alone. Or it might have something to do
with the fact that I watched Aliens while on Vacation. One or
the other.)
I also had a great fourth and hope everyone did too. I allowed
myself to feel a tinge of the old patriotism that I used to feel
before becoming an informed American. I imagine the current
political state of our country and my ingrained all-American
girl background makes me a little like a Catholic
paleontologist. No matter what the book says, I'm looking at the
carbon dating on the skeletal remains and something's not
Kosher. Ah well, if science and spirituality can find a way to
co-exist maybe there's hope for me and my inner patriot.
Although I think it would have really helped my American
self-esteem to have never seen So
Graham Norton in Dollywood. Goddess save us. If any of
you from the UK read my diary, please know that Pigeon Forge, TN
is NOT an accurate sampling of the US mindset, no matter how
much it may appear to explain the current administration.
And what is up with all the celebrity deaths all of a sudden?
They're supposed to come in threes -- not thirties! And damn it
all we lost Kate
which is just gut-wrenchingly unbearable. An independent
class-act of a cookie all the way. Now I'll have to find someone
else I want to be when I grow up.
On that uplifting note, I'm off to spread post-holiday...erm....cheer
;-)
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