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snippet found in an old journal

It’s good to talk with a person who shares your ideas. We talked about language and alphabets, pictography. This made me remember the alphabets  I’ve dabbled with & caused a renewed desire to do these things I frequently ignore or dismiss due to some paranoia about ‘the real world,’ my efficient role in it, how to survive & make money money money. I can just scare myself to death when I start to think like this. I can stop myself completely. In truth, I have stopped doing most of what makes me feel good, chasing a ‘real job.’ Resulting in: I’ve done very little.

adventures in home buying

In the last year:

Put my house on the market, had a humongous sale, put up everything else, quit my job & moved across country to be (finally) with my girlfriend of seven years. We’ve lived close-ish to each other during this time—but have never actually lived together.

She proposed several months before. Worst proposal in the annals of proposing—everything was awful that night. For both of us. This is, in and of itself, a memory-maker. Apparently, not all proposals are the stuff of fairy tales. Some take place in the real world, in the midst of stressful times, in truly hideous, hideous sleeping outfits—when the world seems scary and tough, and the future doesn’t beam with promise.

I had managed to injure my neck in such a prodigious manner that I was urged to claim disability. But that’s not how my people do, so I did decompression therapy and all manner of stretchy, ouchy things instead. And after months and months, I’m happy to say I’m no longer in constant pain. It’s not quite right & may never be, but I avoided surgery & feel enough like a normal person to be grateful.  

Moved from the South to such a cold place. Got a little rental house in the land of snow and ice. Managed to squeeze two households and my art studio into one tiny little spot. Our landlord left us a snow-blower. We thought he was kidding. How wrong we were.

I miss my friends and I admit to feeling isolated. The neck thing has been depressing at times. I hope that once we’re settled in our new place, I can make friends, volunteer some—find a good physical therapist and create new connections.

My sweet girl is wrapping up her degree: full load of classes and working full time. I’ve done that myself; I know how much it sucks. My job has turned into moving us, unpacking us, getting us settled—and now, reversing the process. We just purchased our first house together. It’s a beautiful home—a two family. So I am not only a new homeowner, I’m also an instant landlord. Our tenant is lovely. And though it was fish or cut bait with my old house, it finally sold the same week I put money down on the new place. Just about dilled my pickle with that one.

The month of September is going to be hard. We need to be moved out of our rental & into the new house by the 30th. No easy task. My gal’s helping as much as she can, but with work & school on her plate…it’s just going to be hard slogging for a spell. We all hope the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the train.

And that, my friends, is just a small part of why I haven’t been posting my silly pictures for a while. I look forward to getting back to free time eventually.

‘Enough is enough.’ It’s that simple. I think that Sharon has tried very, very hard to both help this young man and guide him through this maze and not be too intrusive and also allow the potential for, you know, whatever [relationship] with his mother, because the hope would be that there would be a rehab situation and eventually some kind of healing. That’s what you’d want for anyone. But things are not going that way. Sharon Raydor has a bottom line, and that bottom line is reached in the finale. She’s not short-tempered, but when she gets pushed past her bottom line, she takes action very thoroughly. It was a lot of fun for me to see that come out there.
TV Line August 8, 2014 interview. McDonnell in response to how Sharon feels about “the other Sharon.”

Dude on left, shooting some off-camera person. Sorry man.

Dude in middle, shooting some office worker a floor above. Oops.

Dude on right, shooting dude on left. His shocked accidental follow up shot will probably blow off Sharon’s head. Hope that’s her last will and testament she just got done proofing in front of her.

Keep your finger straight and off the trigger until you’re ready to fire.

Sure, I know it’s just a goofy pic. But dammit. We keep visually printing ourselves to put fingers on triggers. What makes a gun go bang? Pulling the trigger. So if you play around with a ‘fake’ dangerously, guess what happens if you have to handle the real thing?

TNT has it right: BOOM.

(Source: fatima-xo)

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