it may be pure illusion, but it's beautiful while it's here

so monsterbeard has a blog. it's a nice one, you should go over and take a look. seriously. you can learn some things, like what my handle is (courtesy of the monsterbeard himself, long ago, during a particularly bloody session of a game called 'perfect dark,' and involving the unloading of two fully-loaded pistols into the body of an already-deceased evil secret agent: if i don't make it, kill the baby).

maybe you had to be there.

the thing that makes coffee from angel falls so incredibly bad is that when i drink it and look into the cup at the same time, on the edges of the tipped liquid i can see where the water and the coffee separate, and it's a big gap, relatively speaking. why does everyone go there? come to think of it, why do i go there? because it's across the street. because it's really nice on the inside and you can sit in the windows (though it's not nearly as nice as sitting in the window at coffee on main). because i got a real half-dollar in change yesterday.

i just realized that i can finally type so as to not ever be looking at my fingers. geez. i even sometimes get the numbers right if i'm not thinking about it. i hope i don't lose this skill. when i was little, i used to love watching my mom type on a typewriter, any typewriter (and she had a few), because i thought she had the prettiest hands in the world and i loved how fast she was, and i was totally blown away that she didn't even have to look at what she was doing. sometimes i would say, close your eyes! close your eyes! and she would, and wow.

my mom is still my hero sometimes.

tonight i am going to dinner with some cantonis, at the inn at turner's mill! of course! i am going to predict the night: getting there early and some being a little late (someone, most likely, brushing his teeth. yes, again); the start of the yelling; drinks being drunk and burgers (and one chicken something, guess who gets that); yossarian and autobot and overkill, where autobot wins and wins and is therefore dubbed a jerk; more yelling; an enjoyable, tension-filled, manipulative, alliance-make-and-break settling of catan, which may or may not end in a fistfight (again); one or more of the dogs pooping somewhere in the house and/or the cat throwing up; lots and lots of yelling; and and and thank you, God, for this. for making me be a little part of something i lost my natural right to a long time ago. for having that stay with me, now when i am about to need it the most, and for the screwball life i have lived so far. may it be so on and so on.

soon is coming the big framed piece of paper and the jobby job and the moving and the newstate driver's license and the bar and five years of my life with very little if anything known, and i always have such trouble with the goodbye (aimee mann) and i never ever go back but maybe this time and but until then.