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Today is a roller coaster.
I have four blogs trying to claw their way to the surface but it is six AM and I am tired and my pinky finger is starting to spasm. It's because of the way I hold it when I blackberry.
It is too late to be coherent.
I told a friend tonight that, no, we cannot continue our discourse on sexuality because my brain cannot take it. We can, however, talk about the Indigo Girls.
My brain gets used up. I joke that my memory gets full and jettisons things I don't need. My close friends know that they can tell me a story two or three times and I'll laugh every time like it's the first. Friends who are less close get annoyed when I don't remember stories they've told me, or experiences we've had together.
An assistant with a bad memory. Hilarious.
Except I have systems, tons of them, and when something is VERY important I make it imprint or I cheat with blackberry alarms and napkin notes.
And then there are things that imprint with no work and never go away.
Almost all of these things involve women.
Occasionally these things involve kissing women.
Frequently these things involve wanting to kiss women.
---
Tonight I read a line in one of my own blogs that I (of course) do not remember writing:
"I am about as slick as a t-rex in a shopping mall. "
I love that line.
It's true.
---
Another line I love, from an almost-poem:
"I grabbed madly for the girl with the almost key
Instead of the one with the lock."
It's obviously about the pain two bottoms feel when they find themselves alone together, and naked. It's that sort of, "Well, fuck, what do we do now?"
The answer, I have found, is usually "watch tv."
---
I have a folder in my email program called "God and All The Angels." You should ask me about it some time. It's a good story. No, not right now. Now it's six a.m. and I'm a better storyteller before the sun comes up.
---
In the course of a year, I send and receive more than 36,000 emails. This is totally insane. NOTHING is that important.
But I love communicating.
---
I love my life, actually.
The sun is up.
It's April.
Love,
Beth
I have four blogs trying to claw their way to the surface but it is six AM and I am tired and my pinky finger is starting to spasm. It's because of the way I hold it when I blackberry.
It is too late to be coherent.
I told a friend tonight that, no, we cannot continue our discourse on sexuality because my brain cannot take it. We can, however, talk about the Indigo Girls.
My brain gets used up. I joke that my memory gets full and jettisons things I don't need. My close friends know that they can tell me a story two or three times and I'll laugh every time like it's the first. Friends who are less close get annoyed when I don't remember stories they've told me, or experiences we've had together.
An assistant with a bad memory. Hilarious.
Except I have systems, tons of them, and when something is VERY important I make it imprint or I cheat with blackberry alarms and napkin notes.
And then there are things that imprint with no work and never go away.
Almost all of these things involve women.
Occasionally these things involve kissing women.
Frequently these things involve wanting to kiss women.
---
Tonight I read a line in one of my own blogs that I (of course) do not remember writing:
"I am about as slick as a t-rex in a shopping mall. "
I love that line.
It's true.
---
Another line I love, from an almost-poem:
"I grabbed madly for the girl with the almost key
Instead of the one with the lock."
It's obviously about the pain two bottoms feel when they find themselves alone together, and naked. It's that sort of, "Well, fuck, what do we do now?"
The answer, I have found, is usually "watch tv."
---
I have a folder in my email program called "God and All The Angels." You should ask me about it some time. It's a good story. No, not right now. Now it's six a.m. and I'm a better storyteller before the sun comes up.
---
In the course of a year, I send and receive more than 36,000 emails. This is totally insane. NOTHING is that important.
But I love communicating.
---
I love my life, actually.
The sun is up.
It's April.
Love,
Beth
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