sublingua

The heart with a mind of its own.

(Be present.)

The mind with a heart of its own.

(It's past.)

The dream that is your waking life.

(Go there now.)

tripping and Malarka
Jan. 12, 2001

In preparation for our trip this afternoon, I have done laundry and dishes (no easy tasks these). I have yet to soak Shelly and give the fishes one of their weekend feeder cubes (which I'm not entirely convinced feeds them for two days as they are really tiny pigs with fins). I have also to make tea for our trip and pick up some treats for the dogs from the dog bakery as a doggie-hostess gift. MaxMom is getting Godiva chocolates and the new Squirrel Nut Zippers CD from us. (We usually take up a bottle of wine, but she always has wine around that is better than whatever we bring up, so this time we went for the luxury chocolate angle.) To pull this off, we had to do some shopping last night, so of course we netted the new SNZ's CD for ourselves (and the Yo-Yo Ma Bach Cello Suites CD and some chocolates). We also purchased a thermos, a thing which I have never owned and which it feels very grown up to have acquired. (Max: "You've never had a thermos? When I was in elementary school I used to take a thermos of tomato soup to school every day for, like, two years. It was all I'd eat.") We also stopped off at the Indian restaurant that has a little shop attached to buy some spices, dal, and chutney as we're going to cook an Indian meal for MaxMom (masala chai, samosas and chutney, masur dal, a vegetable, and rice--very simple and representative of what we often eat at home). I ended up buying some powdery substance which I liked the smell of (wet trees, damp earth) and which is apparently useful for infection when taken three times a day in some water.

As I write, Max is beginning the morning's run of alarm snoozings. So far, only two and a sleepy "How are you doing, sweetheart?" for me. How he can sleep after having to get up and turn the alarm off (which is at the top of a bookcase at the foot of the bed) is beyond me. I've had my share of mornings when I've snoozed until I was an hour or two late, but not every morning. And the alarm sounds like someone is torturing a fire-truck fire alarm, but it doesn't matter.

So school starts on Tuesday, a fact which is causing me no small amount of anxiety. I've begun reading (and notetaking from) the text for my microbiolgy class. The text yielded up this gem from Louis Pasteur: "The role of the infinitely small in nature is infinitely large." (Can't argue with Louis, man; he invented pasteurization (and a vaccines for anthrax and fowl cholera). And what have you done in your crappy little lifetime except whine online?)

I also got a call from Malarka yesterday, whom I have been trying (fairly successfully) to avoid. She spoke to my answering machine. The last time I didn't return her calls for a few days she actually called my mother to find out why. (She had my mother's number because when I housesat for my mum, Malarka and I had made plans together and I gave her the number in case anything changed at the last minute.) Give me some breathing room, here, baby. I need my space. It's not you, it's me.

I don't want to end this missive on this note about Malarka, but I have to pack, so it can't be helped.

retreat or surrender

More lies:
Waking Sleeping Demons II - Sunday, Oct. 30, 2011
Waking Sleeping Demons - Saturday, Oct. 29, 2011
time - Friday, May. 20, 2011
- - Wednesday, Oct. 06, 2010
The Return - Tuesday, Oct. 05, 2010

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