this imploding heart

sweet and delicious

I really feel like talking about FEELINGS. But I also feel like eating a YORK PEPPERMINT PATTY. So there's a chance that my needy feeleyness is chemical.

I just ate the patty. Lets give it a second.

......

and Miracle of Miracles, my need to TALK about FEELINGS has dropped from a level 9-call every boy I'm still uneasy about and demand that they start emoting immediately-
to a level 3- repress, repress, repress-

That, my friends, is chemical management.

Isn't it weird that our highway signs, the newer busses, and our basketball team all match?

My mom is currently staying in middle of nowhere montana with my dad while he wires a new energy plant. The town consists of a grocer, a hardware store, a library/post office, a bar and a church.

Mom makes dinner for dad and this guy who is also living in the temporary housing with them. Dad calls him "That Seventh Day Adventist We Live With Now"

During the day, my mom goes out to the back of the house and throws a handful of grain. 40 turkeys swarm in from the woods and start eating. She put a bale of hay by the backdoor, and a small herd of deer come by at 3pm and 12am to feed. My dad can hear them chewing while he sleeps. One of the yearlings got hit by a car or something, and it has a limp. My mother is concerned that it will be eaten by an animal. She is also worried that it will be rejected by it's friends.

She's learned to paint from that program on PBS where the lady paints flowers and birds and more flowers, but she ran out of things to paint on. She went to the hardware store to see if she could buy some boards or something. The guy at the hardware store said

"Ehp, nope, nope. No boards here. But you should ask The Dude. Theres a guy who works here. We call him Dude. He goes out to Spokane and gets scrap wood every other month or so. Got a big ole pile of it on his front porch. He aint workin today. Come in tomorrow, or you could just stop by his house and ask him, it' aint but half a mile down the road."

So mom stopped by the dudes house, but it was creepy, so she left. My mom finds very few things in this world so creepy that she won't walk up to them and introduce herself. That's just the kind of girl she is.

So she doesn't have anything to paint on until the dude comes in to work. She's willing to ask him about it there. In the meantime, I looked up the local NPR station, because she only gets 2 television channels, and one of them is the home shopping network.

Posted by Sonya at February 4, 2004 01:36 PM