this page intentionally left blank

I like going to the Galleria when all the stores are closed and no one is there... just to walk around and think. I like waterfalls immensely. I like it when the traffic lights all turn at just the right instant to let me through without slowing or stopping. I often wonder why I think of things at odd times in an out of place moment... like walking through the grocery store and suddenly thinking about how I like the toilet paper to unroll from below the roller and not above... or being at the bank and thinking about how cool it is when people make fences out of stacked stones. WTF? I'm sitting here debating my departure time to the airport to pick up Sean as my house is settled and quiet other than the occasional meow from Penny and a soft and steady Eddie Harris in the background. I never could make it back to sleep after the airline notification. I lost track of how many shots of espresso I've had this morning and my mind is racing. I would say my heart is racing from the caffeine as well, but I believe it to be from the short time between my physical existence in Houston and my physical existence in her arms... chronologically, that distance grows short. My sweet little dog has been following me around all day... right at my feet. I believe she knows that I'm about to take her to the sitter again. She likes to go play with Dixie and Étoile, but I know she misses me bunches when I'm away. I like the way the wind blows the leaves into patterns on my back porch. I like the ambient glow that diffuse sunlight creates in a window lined room. I like how it seems the pieces of my life connect to one another like a solving puzzle painting a beautiful scene when she softly speaks. I drove around this morning for a while. I still had a good friend's car that I borrowed yesterday to take Éclair somewhere. It's a pimp Cadillac that is all kinds of cushy on the ass and surrounding region. The little onboard computer is annoying as hell though... not a car for me. I'm a jeep guy. Actually, an early 70's Land Cruiser (when they had the jeepy body style) or an old International Scout is my idea of a Cadillac. I like to blow through cupped hands holding a taught blade of grass to make a little shrill grass-horn. I dislike watermelon seeds as much as I like watermelon. I like the way wood smells when it burns in a fireplace or campfire. Clowns freak me out. I love the way a guitar feels in my hands and against my body like I love the way a great wine kisses every taste bud in your mouth and tells you a story. My friend Jazmin is going to highlight and cut my hair this afternoon. I'm a little nervous about it because my hair is not cooperative most of the time as it is and a bad cut would be disastrous. The hair would win and I would lose... on the same magnitude of loss experienced if I entered my 5' 7.75" self into the Ultimate Fighting Championship. I don't care so much about how I look here or even the time it takes for my hair to unfuck itself after a bad cut... I just want to look good for the girl that stole my heart. Really, that's the only reason I'm concerned. I saw something a tiny bit disturbing this morning in town. There was a young man... maybe around 20... that was wearing low riding jeans similar to those women's low cut pants that you see occasionally that are cut such that the top of the panty (usually thong) is visible. The fact that he was wearing low riding jeans didn't bother me... but his not wearing any underpants and openly displaying his plumber's crack was unsettling. I hope this isn't going to become a fashion trend. Plumber crack wouldn't be so bad if guys' asses weren't so hairy. It's just not something the world needs to see in a casual social environment. Speaking of crack, I have some mildew in the cracks of my bathroom shower that I can't seem to get rid of recently. I think it's because I've been gone a lot and haven't been cleaning the shower as often as I do when I'm home and using it daily. I've tried all types of chemical cleaning products with no luck. I even ordered one of those Steam Buggy things off of a late night infocommercial and that didn't work. Maybe fire? Explosives? It's irritating because when I clean I get in this zone and I'm all over the house... this little spot of mildew id holding up my cleaning rhythm. I should be cleaning Salsa and Meringue and instead I'm cleaning a Waltz in cold molasses. I wish I had a juicy peach right now. I need to go to the airport. Aye caramba!