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Broken pieces on the floor
2005-12-10 - 2:31 a.m. I had attempted to reach one of the Mikes re getting some p@in pills this wknd because my lower back is sore still from helping Flash split logs last week. He called me back and wound up putting the Indian on the phone. He was loaded (surprise, surprise), laughing, asked me if I missed him yet "Not yet!", and how many years did he have to stay away this time? I said "We're talking 5 for sure," and he said, "Oh good, I thought you'd say 10." We were friendly and he asked me if he could call me later to talk about Gipsy. I said ok, but he didn't call. I don't really want him to call just to call, because I think it will make Jared think there is something still going on between us when there isn't. But Jared was sitting right there when they called and I couldn't get into all that at that point. It's too hard to understand how I feel about him, even for me. Mi hija and her boyfriend and his friend decided after midnight to repair her cockeyed bedroom door frame leading to outside. Much pounding and the accompanying baying of hounds followed. I was a mite pissed about all of that noise, but the absolute kicker was that the hammer blows caused a Knock Pottery cross from Ireland and a bowl of ceramic seashells to shatter into several dozen pieces on the floor. Sigh. How does one encourage teenagers to become diurnal? Rmployment doesn't seem to make a difference. I couldn't sleep now for nothing, especially with Jared, the basset and 2 chihuahuas all snoring lustily in my big brass bed. If this isn't a good time to get freakin' stoned, I don't know when is. �
still here - 2009-12-18
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