brought to you by the letter T

Some days the best part, besides the lovely people you know, is singing to Carole King. I really wished to spend the day at home (home home home in the little upper midwest village) putting on that life-changing King album then laying on the floor and listening.

Because at one point this not at home home home day I felt I had wasted yet another hour and I was hungry and had no prospects for getting any dinner for the next few hours so I stopped by GoodEarth and got my favorite Peanut Butter Pretzels.

I can't do this.

There never was a dinner because my stomach embroiled with the pretzels. I need to relearn my stomach. I write this here, again only talking about myself and not saying anything that will better the world around me, because maybe this blog will serve as my conscience.

So I take this cup of tea and make a toast: Here's to you my estómago.

we'll be real humans now

So I've been watching clips of Sesame Street on YouTube as research for treatments and conceptualizations and stop-motions. A couple of days ago it was "I've got a new way to walk", "It's hip to be a square", that song about how they can't get married because the sign says Don't Walk, and the letter L. Yesterday morning was a reminder of how much I always found Prairie Dawn cloyingly annoying. And how she was probably part of the reason I had that little kid self consciousness over my high pitched voice. I'm not going to think about that too much.

Last summer I developed a desire to be able to ride my bicycle with no hands. Due to my characteristic surprise and delight when I achieve something, I never managed more than a second because after said second I'd gasp, laugh, and lose balance. The last couple of weeks I've taken this no-hands thing more seriously, maybe spurred on by the fact that I went on a bike ride with someone who always rides no-handed. 
End result: I am now a natural. 
This pleases me as I have yet to show any other signs of coordination, grace, or balance.
Take note:
I continue to fall over in Tree Pose
I trip over my own feet
I dribble water all down my front on 50% of all drinking tries
I garble up words in my mouth
I keep finding myself picking up spilled rice grain by grain
I've got dropsy hands
I close my eyes when I'm supposed to keep my eye on the ball
I sometimes entirely forget to speak/carry-on FACE-TO-FACE conversations

This all being said, my life has been all about me lately. Let's escape that.




PS. Karonius and I have a secret project up our sleeves. Stay tuned.