The weather this summer hasn't been bad at all. In fact, I haven't been miserable with heat for more than a week so far. More often than not, the temperature hasn't even been in the triple digits and every once in a while you get days like today.

Today has been perfect; the sun is out, there's a soft, light breeze every so often and no one is even breaking a sweat. I sat outside today with my best friend and her family while "the boys" washed the boat (we're supposed to go to Laughlin this weekend). For lunch I ate chicken wings and drank a few beers. It was lovely. When the wings were all gone, I taught Andrea's cousin Zooey how to catch (she starts kindergarten tomorrow) and then I let her play with my hair. She said she was going to make me look like a silly princess and believe me, she wasn't lying. When she left she gave me the biggest hug ever and if that hug is the last good thing to happen today then I'm okay with it.

Now the evening is approaching and dinner is being cooked. There is homemade salsa and guacamole being made and hot dogs are on the grill. Pretty much, today has been one of the most perfect days I've ever experienced in California. Nothing is out of place and everything is wonderful.

I'm preoccupied with running away again. I can't help it; I get anxious when I feel stuck and then I can't stop my brain from fabricating dozens of escape plans. It's quite the burden right now seeing as how I am (was?) determined to graduate from my school. It was a rash decision, that one. I still kick myself in the ass for it. I should have known I would grow bored with California again. It's nothing new but I set myself up with a lovely little trap. I thought that maybe reading a book about someone constantly on the move would help me stop fixating on everywhere else I could be but, in all honesty, I was very wrong. It has only made it worse.

I guess I could have just skipped all that rambling and said I'm bored.

Because I am bored.

for the sake of not having to explain everything, we're going to keep this short; i got fired from my job, i'm still not sleeping like a human being and i'm painting again.

I have fallen in lust with automatic writing. I feel like it was made for me and I for something on another planet. Here is a poem that I wrote while indulging.

Clusterfuck Politics

The more absurd my writing is
the more real it is in the world
of surrealism but my reality
is already surreal because I
never really feel like anything happened
and I would really prefer it if people stopped
trying to find meaning in it.
The lighting is usually all wrong
and the dialogue muffled.
I am constantly trying to ask the director
for another take, but he doesn’t answer
because he is a deaf mute with a knack
for spinning in circles to signal yes or no.
I can never keep up with the ticking of his hands
so I’ve stopped staring at his blinking lights.
Perhaps I should leave the critical analysis
to the professionals; the robots who run on
treadmills and caffeine. “Yes sir,
I would like for you to give me a chocolate covered
rabbit with a real dime awkwardly hidden
inside the left ear that you’ve bent in response
to the overcast weather on this lovely
Sunday brunch.”
He didn’t let me keep the dime, but I guess it’s okay
because I needed a quarter anyway
to get a piece of gum. Thinking of which,
I want something to chew on
but my words are terrified of my teeth
because they see the battle wounds of my
strawberry pink cheeks. I wonder
if the little men inside my head ever get tired
of the concussions that come from
banging my head against my steering wheel
while complaining about the horse drawn carriage
taking entirely too long to get out of first gear.
Don’t any of the taxi drivers from
the nineteenth century still exist?
They knew how to get a broad from point A
to needlepoint in no time at all.
I wonder if Woodstock is ever going
to have the same effect as the
Challenger’s demise. Oh no!
It looks like I’m offending the feminists again.
Last time it was over a sandwich that
just didn’t taste like I imagined.
I think I’m over thinking because I’ve been thinking
even though I decided I was over thinking.

Bhut Jolokia? Conquered.

List of Ridiculous Things I Must Do:

1. Tornado Chasing

2. Hurricane Party

3. Midnight Showing in Alaska (When It Doesn't Get Dark)

4. Taste the World's Hottest Pepper (aka Bhut Jolokia, or Ghost Pepper)

...the list is longer. I just forgot where I put it.

i get what i want.

My thoughts are on speed again.

But anyway, I woke up thinking about spaghetti-os [which is odd enough because I was dreaming about numbers [of all things for me to dream about, right?)] and I realized just how deep-rooted my hate for spaghetti-os is. They're nasty! I told a friend they reminded me of ring worms. Covered in ketchup.

Yeah, go ahead and have that for lunch.