Weird. I type a title, and it immediately makes a permalink. Yikes. It keeps saving my drafts. Weirdness. Okay. Here I am in the new blog. I see no smilies! What’s that about? I’m childish, where are the smilies? Maybe there’s a button to click. I’ll ponder it later.

Testing, one, two.

One click on “enter” moves me down 2 lines. Not liking that. Man, I’m boring.

Excellent. I changed it to HTML, and now I can do what I want. Ha! Okay.

I just watched The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. Wickedly weird. Awesome and bizarre. Saw the end of it more than a decade ago and just got around to renting it to see the rest of it. Not bad. It’s still messing with my head. Yeeks.

I love the dialogue in old movies. Even now if someone wrote a movie about the past it wouldn’t have dialogue as quirky as this in it. Because it wouldn’t be actually from the past. It would be stylized or simplified or something. Toned down or cleaned up or clarified. Neat. Sigh.

I didn’t get any sleep again. Yay me. Oh, well, less time to dream about murder. Just kidding. I don’t always dream about murder. Ooo, that reminds me. I had this awesome dream the other night. I had just gotten a job, with other people, and we were being lectured about it. It was a job in our chosen field, but it was the bottom of the totem pole, boring. This woman said to us that we could learn a lot here, even though it’s not where we want to stay, even though it’s just a beginner’s job, a stepping stone, she said to stay as long as we could and learn as much as we could and “leave in tears.” Woa. Now that sounds nasty and not fun, but I thought it was awesome. That sounds like something I would do. Hold onto something too long. Until I can’t stand it anymore. Whatever! But hopefully I learned from it, whatever it was. Cuz I’m hoping it’s over, and not just beginning. This phase in my dream. If dreams really are symbolic of reality. Hmm. I can’t be serious in this text box. It’s not whimsical enough. I’ll have to fix that.

God, it’s dark in here. It’s a stormy day. I’d say it’s time for lunch, but I just ate an entire bag of popcorn. Oops. Popcorn is not good with a movie from the 1960’s about the 1930’s where everyone has a Scottish brogue. Hmph. But I chewed quietly. It was all good.

Shit. It just occurred to me I will have no idea when I’ve written enough. I mean, I have to learn this scroll bar —> That’s my measurement. You can’t see it, I don’t know why I pointed at it. Lol.

I drove through a herd of 9 deer the other day. Lots of little ones too. Not through them, you understand. They were on the sides of the road. With cars slowing down to gawk at them, me included. Cute! I saw a herd of 7 a few days before that. They blend in so well it’s startling to realize they are there. “Oh!” Try… not… to hit…. deer….

Too dark. It’s 3:15. Come ON.

I have this purse with a cracked handle and whenever I hang it on my arm and start to walk it bites me with each step. Chomp, chomp… I thought that story would take longer. I should get a new purse maybe. I haven’t had it that long, but I guess it was cheap. $8. Let’s see if that becomes a smilie. If not, damn Wordpress all to hell!!!! –Sorry. I turned on a light, that should improve my mood. It’s the beginning of the season of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Woohoo.

The other day I walked into my mother’s house and she looked at me in horror and said, “What’s on your shirt?!!?” I stopped dead in my tracks (okay, not DEAD, play along) and said, “WHAT?” I looked at my shirt expecting to see a giant leech or a creature from Alien, the ones that attach themselves to people’s faces. I was all in a panic, seeing nothing and going, “What?!” She looked closer and said, “Oh, nevermind, that’s part of the design.”

DAMMIT.

I swear she does this to me on purpose. It was a lime green shirt with some lime green net stuff stuck to it. Just nevermind….

I threw out the herbal tincture I was making. It looked too frightening to me. I don’t know. I’m gonna try again with boiling vinegar and let it sit for only one day. No time to become frightening. Though I read that boiling vinegar steam will — I forget what, sear your eyebrows off? Something. Not really. It’s just…. well, I imagine it’s pretty darn caustic. Good enough!

I’m all out of chocolate body wash. Oh wait, I have two more bottles. Okay, nevermind. It’s not really chocolate scented. It’s something else, like brazilian nut. But it has that fake chocolate smell that reminds you of something trying to smell like chocolate, like scratch ‘n sniff stickers or…. a candle, I don’t know. But not the way chocolate actually smells. Just when you smell it you think, “Ahh, something that’s trying to smell like chocolate. Yummy!” Good enough. I say again.

There’s been a “wet paint” sign hanging near the front door of my building all week. I think they painted the door on Monday and then forgot the sign. So every time I go through the door now I have to test it first with a finger, see that it’s dry, then push it open. !!! Cuz I figure they could come back to do a second coat. And I don’t want to touch the door handle because that’s all, you know, germapalooza or something. (Sometimes I sneak up there with a Lysol wipe and wipe it down, shhhh!) I usually open the door with my BUTT. Why is that capitalized? But I figure easier to wash paint off my hand than my pants, eh? With my luck I’ll barge out the door today and they really will have put a second coat of paint on it. Bastards. Geesh, I’m mad already and it hasn’t even happened yet.

My imagination is too good. I got out of my car at the store and it was raining underneath the truck next to me. Only there. Losing fluids, mister? Then I came back out and noticed a wee little bitty boy shoe laying on the ground near the truck, and also near a grate. Over the…. gutter, sewer? Whatever. And I made up a whole story of kidnapping and giant sewer creatures snatching a little boy (minus his shoe) from a parking lot and him being dragged around alive by the kidnappers and/or sewer creature and “we have to get to him in time!” You see why I automatically think alien creature from outer space when someone says there’s something on my shirt instead of - I don’t know - thinking tiny Earth spider? I think too much!

You know what I noticed? A fake drug I thought I made up for Fugue is actually a fake drug from a Buffy episode. Yeeks. You really have to watch what gets into your subconscious when you’re writing something. I’ll change the name to something else. I Google all the words and names I make up to make sure they aren’t already made up. Or aren’t words already in another language or something. Or acronyms. Whatever.

I just realized there’s a button I can push for italics. We’ll see if that makes italics. That’s not the code I use!

Sigh. I need to change the heck out of this text box. Make it something I like to swim around in. Needs work. Hmph.

I guess I will go now. This may be a short entry. Or super huge. I can’t really tell. Oh well. Now I have to change many things all around it! Navigation links, webring codes, bah!

Okay, I’ll quit whining and go. Later.