Friday, June 25, 2004

Around

Adam is right; it has been quite some time since I have waved the life of Lindy before the open grip of the public. Truth is, anytime I feel like blogging, I can’t and any time I can, I don’t feel like it. But things have slowed for a few minutes, so here you go.

Just got back from seeing Dodgeball. I'm not about to recommend that movie to anyone. However, if you wanted my opinion I would say that I found it obscure, vulgar, hilarious, and entertaining. Sorry Dad, I liked it.

As of June, I have been house sitting for a family in a psychotic neighborhood located on the south side of America’s hometown. It is all I can do to contain my excitement as each day I awake to a strange face staring up to the large home. What are they thinking…are they planning an attack or house raid or are they wondering where I have hid the four bodies of those who once lived there?

Job searching has been less than interesting. The job I wanted in Mass has all but fallen through the cracks. I was offered a position at Chaddock in Quincy, but turned it down for fear of slow, painful, agonizing death. Actually, the hours were horrible, the job stressful, the pay very low, and I just feel the need to keep looking for something a bit more suitable for my personality and uh, size. I still wonder where I belong. I wonder where I should look. I wonder if it is really out there.

So the saga continues. It hurts a little. In the meantime Luc and I are having a blast and a half in Hannibal marveling at the dysfunctions of life. My family resides in Danville and I wonder if I am to join them once again come mid July.

I’m paralyzed in a cloud of confusion, indecision, and discontentment. Dinner anyone?

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

With This Pen

Journaling has been a feverish addiction of mine for as long as I can remember. Consistency in journaling, when unleashed in the chaotic uncertainty of haphazard schedules, can prove to be a bit challenging. However, my obsession with the journal itself shall never cease. Holding the leather bound, cryptic collections of acid-free paper brings me sudden bursts of joy and little gasps of bewilderment. The crisp pages outlined in goldleaf, pictures, and creative expressions take hold of my attention and I get lost in a world unfamiliar to many. Choosing a journal from the shelf, I flip to the center of the masterpiece, and inhale the scent of the glued binding. Perhaps one of my stranger rituals in life, I cannot help but associate the smell with something of my past...maybe an elementary school textbook or a magazine from the doctor's office. I choose to collect journals with hopes that each one can be filled with an adventure. Some of them may sit on a shelf untouched by my magic pen, but their purpose is not to be filled with nonsense. Instead they push me to the next step.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

The Contradiction of an Acronym

I spent a good 15 minutes this morning constructing the most amazing blog known to mankind only to have the wretched grip of internet folly to erase my entry. Thanks to Emily, I have something to fill the space.

LLuscious
IIntelligent
NNaughty
DDignified
YYucky

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