It's hot here as L.A. is wont to be coming toward July. It has been 5 days since my last shower. It has been 2 minutes since my last cup of coffee. There is one in the freezer for later. There is 1/2 of one in an ice-cup for 5 minutes from now. I'm going to paint the baseboards in the room, go to a bead store and mail some dried seaweed to a girl in Oregon. It's only $13 but it's something. Monk is on in the background and I've found since i've been back there is less on tv then there was a year ago, and that as much as I want to watch Damages I'm emotionally recoiling from it, so Netflix it is and old episodes of that quirky OCD detective.
I haven't found a game to replace GearsofWar3 and there are only so many deathmatches you can participate in when you're not connected to xboxlive and fighting and communicating with real people. Apparently my time as a hermit, though foretold, has not yet come to pass.
Strides have been made in the renovation of the sleeping place. And as i stare at the enclosed pictures the imperfections arent so upsetting, but stain reveals all the variations layers and trauma of a floor more than you think- you'd think the sanding it to its natural state and protecting it would somehow purify it but it's all there- the unevenness in absorbtion and actual level of the wood, chemical reactions, bad previous sandings, life, chair scrapings, deskmat meets grit... it was tyrannizing me a bit- so i wrote scripture over it. Seemed to me a perfect pairing of an imperfect thing with the perfector of things. Also it's telling me that the perfection of the floor though it would have been glorious doesn't have to rule me- let me live with the good enough and turn it into art instead of some shameful embarassment to woodworking folk everywhere. Grieve it, let it go, and move on. It took a lot of scripture to cover it- ps 139 "search and know me o' Lord" is 43 to v14 "you are my witnesses," declares the Lord. cor1 13 "love is. love never fails... love. all of romans 8 "the spirit intercedes with groans words cannot express".. and ephesians 6 "so put on the full armour of God"... and so on all handwritten in that sharpie marker cursive. You live in a place long enough and it becomes a well in 15 years when the varnish wears and you knew intuitively you'd have to deal with it even if that seemed so far away at the time, and so that things you plant repair ignore are indeed the reaping and sewing of your life... well anyway.
Also the cats are doing this. It's so ridiculously hot for them that they just sleep during the day and go out at night. Also in general they love sleeping on my bed now that it's in the living room. Like the central den scenario is finally come to pass and they approve. I'm not sure how they'll handle me relocating back into the bedroom but for now i can just gaze at them and laugh. For some reason them sleeping is hilarious to me. Of course i upset danica by sending her the cat pictures because she's a napper and can't nap currently because of the kids and schedule and life and whatever. I never have been and i don't like the way it makes me feel when i wake up- slogged and foggy but how cute is that? I guess i'll be one of those cat people. Laughing and no one quite knows why. But they're like this for a good 6 hours or more as i work there they are mocking it by just being and sleeping.
oh and i've done a little artwork.
m.
I haven't found a game to replace GearsofWar3 and there are only so many deathmatches you can participate in when you're not connected to xboxlive and fighting and communicating with real people. Apparently my time as a hermit, though foretold, has not yet come to pass.
Strides have been made in the renovation of the sleeping place. And as i stare at the enclosed pictures the imperfections arent so upsetting, but stain reveals all the variations layers and trauma of a floor more than you think- you'd think the sanding it to its natural state and protecting it would somehow purify it but it's all there- the unevenness in absorbtion and actual level of the wood, chemical reactions, bad previous sandings, life, chair scrapings, deskmat meets grit... it was tyrannizing me a bit- so i wrote scripture over it. Seemed to me a perfect pairing of an imperfect thing with the perfector of things. Also it's telling me that the perfection of the floor though it would have been glorious doesn't have to rule me- let me live with the good enough and turn it into art instead of some shameful embarassment to woodworking folk everywhere. Grieve it, let it go, and move on. It took a lot of scripture to cover it- ps 139 "search and know me o' Lord" is 43 to v14 "you are my witnesses," declares the Lord. cor1 13 "love is. love never fails... love. all of romans 8 "the spirit intercedes with groans words cannot express".. and ephesians 6 "so put on the full armour of God"... and so on all handwritten in that sharpie marker cursive. You live in a place long enough and it becomes a well in 15 years when the varnish wears and you knew intuitively you'd have to deal with it even if that seemed so far away at the time, and so that things you plant repair ignore are indeed the reaping and sewing of your life... well anyway.
Also the cats are doing this. It's so ridiculously hot for them that they just sleep during the day and go out at night. Also in general they love sleeping on my bed now that it's in the living room. Like the central den scenario is finally come to pass and they approve. I'm not sure how they'll handle me relocating back into the bedroom but for now i can just gaze at them and laugh. For some reason them sleeping is hilarious to me. Of course i upset danica by sending her the cat pictures because she's a napper and can't nap currently because of the kids and schedule and life and whatever. I never have been and i don't like the way it makes me feel when i wake up- slogged and foggy but how cute is that? I guess i'll be one of those cat people. Laughing and no one quite knows why. But they're like this for a good 6 hours or more as i work there they are mocking it by just being and sleeping.
and here's marcus wondering what to do now that he's committed alien genocide and saved humanity. he stops short of bathing himself in the ocean cathartically i might add which is what you think he's going to do and what you'd instinctively want him to do after a dirty battle thats lasted i dont know how long especially ones without sleep, bathroom breaks or food. my friend nan- her character name anya is telling marcus that there's tomorrow- that's what- a future and a hope- if only there were a gears of war4. and marcus and anya... and i could keep and then...anyways. i must remind myself that i wouldnt like the military and at best if i were the remenent of humanity i wouldn't know what to do with myself either- which points to the importance of having a hobby even before the zombie apocalypse starts so that it doesn't seem like a sham to you to put down your gun/xbox controller and start painting trim and sorting papers on your desk so you can make room again in your life for necklaces and future jobs and prayer walking around the block and trying not to let it drive you crazy that it's not a full mile or even a full 2/3, point 74. agh.
m.
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