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10:19 a.m. - 2011-03-04
I have become...

I have a mega-long super duper day to myself today. Wolf is off from school for a teacher in-service day so last night I politely suggested he spend today working for his father. A suggestion he understood and accepted with great alacrity after seeing that special "Kid, you're on my last nerve here" glint in my eye. Mick is working overtime as the bouncer for the school's coffeehouse tonight. In the downtime between the school day and the coffeehouse he'll be dining with his folks and probably moving a couple of heavy things for his mother, which is what good sons do. Not that MIL ever really needs help, the woman is tiny yet super strong- sort of a human Atom Ant, but Mick and his mom like to pretend she's a frail little thing in dire need of Sonny Boy's big muscles. MIL's gracious like that. She understands it's depressing to her boy that despite his being a medal winning power-lifter and massive chunk of beefcake that she could probably kick his ass and still have energy enough to chop and stack a cord of stove wood.

With the whole day in front of me I'm rather at a loss as to what to do. I'm feeling a bit pressured to go off and do something luxe and pampering like get a facial or a pedicure. But I just did a pedi yesterday and I have zero desire to do anything nice for this baggy hag's mask that's snuck in and replaced my regular face without my permission.

I also considered taking myself to a movie but Mick and I have a date tomorrow to see 'The Adjustment Bureau' and it's too soon to see 'The King's Speech' again. Nothing else out there sounds even remotely interesting.

I just got new clothes and a pretty beaded spacer for my Pandora bracelet so shopping would be just for the sake of shopping, there's nothing I need and can therefore justify spending money on.

So this leaves me with continuing to do the spring cleaning and watching the last season of Buffy. Both are good things, one being practical and necessary and the other being mildly indulgent as befits a woman of unexpected leisure time. Sick as it is, I really DO like using my Shark steam mop. It smells like ironing. My house is in dire need of some titivating too. It's been a long dusty winter. Plus there's enough cobwebs festooned about to make even the Munster's feel a bit squicked out. So hey ho, de-cobwebbing and steam mopping it is.

As for the other thing on my agenda, I'm almost Buffy-ed out, but determined to finish the damn thing. Plus I am totally ticked at James Marsters/Spike. Spike, of course, for the attempted rape, and at the actor as a person because I found out he's my age and has just married a 23 year old German super model. Gads, way to be a cliché, James! Yeah, yeah, I know I did my time with Dish, but I had no intention of marrying him for Pete's sake! Something he was totally onboard with, btw. We both knew what it was and enjoyed it thoroughly. No harm, no foul, everybody walks away clean with fond memories.

I have no idea when I became this boring.

Then again I'm thinking of something from a long, long time ago when I wasn't so dull. A cross-country train trip just because I'd never been west of the Rockies or had seen the Pacific ocean. On a late night chugging through Montana there were a bunch of us, strangers but all together and chummy in the way that happens on trains and ships, passing around a couple of good joints and a bottle of bad tequila in the smoker when one of the passengers popped in a video. A movie I'd seen once at a midnight screening in Austin with my pal, Drew, who'd already contracted HIV but didn't know it yet. A long weird-ass movie that we sat through because its viewing seemed required somehow, a movie that stuck with us no matter how hard we danced afterward at our favorite club. Dancing until it was time to go to Denny's for eggs and pancakes, then finally the long drive home to our place, where we drew the curtains and tumbled into bed with the weak dawn light trying to squeeze in around the edges and that weird, weird movie still crowding our brains.

Seemed fitting I should see it again that night, in the wee s'mas 2,000 miles from home on a train with a bunch of strangers. The movie didn't make any more sense then than it did the first time, but maybe I wasn't old enough yet. I am now. At least now I get part of it.

Killing time and cobwebs, ~LA

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