Ugh, I just had to pull three wood ticks off of my leg. I love walking in the woods, and I don't have as much of a problem with ticks as some people I know, but they still are one of the those things which I hate about summer.
Also, my new 'to me' car won't start. I got a 1990 Saab Turbo the other week; its old but in good condition and runs reasonably well. I need a car this summer so I can go out traveling; looking for grad schools and all that. So I wake up yesterday morning and see rain ripping off the window; and thats when I realize that I left the car's sun roof open the night before! So I run outside to start the car so I can close the roof and....nothing. I tried again and got the same response. I have a feeling its just a dead battery which is dealable, and much better than say the starter going out or something.
The problem with not having a car is it utterly destroys what ever chances I have towards getting a social life this summer. I love nature, I love the land around here so much that I sometimes want to just lay down in the soil and all. But there are some definite disadvantages to living 20 miles from the nearest town of any real size. Of course, coming out of Alaska like I have, the social oppertunities seem SO much better; but I think I'm starting to exaust them even now.
Finally, I'm getting my wisdom teeth taken out tomorrow. You can bet that I'm a happy camper! I've been putting this off for so many years, but the butcher's bill is finally coming due and I need to pay it. Oh well; they're putting me under so maybe I'll at least have some sweet dreams under the knife.
Oh well, I'll keep you updated on my condition as new information becomes available Take care, all!
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I normally write in snippets of narrative, sort of. I tend to write very short poems and leave a lot unsaid. When I'm descriptive, I'm usually hinting at a story.
I've always wanted to write a verse novel. One of these days I will. I just need to have an idea that I can stretch that far. When I was in college I wrote a longer series of poems about a man who slept for most of his childhood, no longer needed to sleep as an adult, and observed all sorts of things that happen at night. Then it gets weird and he ends up having sex with the ghost of his unborn twin sister.