(no subject)

What do I write now? About Bob Richards speaking about August Nowak and the need to live every day in that spirit? About the unsettling realization that my chair was laid on someone else's grave outside? About reading the Lord's prayer in Czech for an Austrian man? About driving home in the dark, and being so tired I could barely stumble into the apartment? About how so much coffee and soda and marshmallow salad has caused me to break out? About all the flowers I carried home, or the green and copper beads I strung yesterday? How old women I had never seen before complimented me on my ugly hat and black netting? How Alan's been asleep all day? How his cousin Jason looked so lost and in so much pain?

I cleaned the living room a bit, and I suppose I should clean some of the rest of the house. I'm exhausted and I just can't stand the thought of going to work tomorrow.

you're a daisy if you do

I find myself incredibly fascinated by the story of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday. Hence, the watching of hours and hours of History channel specials, and repeated viewings of Tombstone which might be the best damn thing Val Kilmer ever made.