257 Weeks

You could be waiting for a day that won't come. And you could be so much more than you've become. But I have found my feet 257 weeks, and you could be waiting for a day that won't come. And it's SO sad, you're so good and I'm so bad--but you won't see me wasting the best thing I've ever had. And it's such a shame that I can't tell you anything...

Some days, I love Nine Days. For those of you who are mathematically challenged, 257 weeks is just short of 5 years. So, let us make a list of things that you or I or the whole world may have been waiting close to 257 weeks to happen:

1. George W. Bush to say something remotely intelligent. Sorry, it's out of the way now. We can move on.
2. School to be out forever.
3. The snow to melt.
4. Your heart to melt that it might know the warmth I exude.
5. The end of the world.
6. The list of readings to get smaller.
7. The essays to at least stop piling up.

If you're waiting for these things, you could be waiting for a day that won't come. Maybe not. Sometimes it feels that way though. I am keen on short sentences. Today.

Well, you could be so much more than you've become. What could you be?

• Intuitive. That is Kennedy's contribution for the day. He says, "A tractor trailer tries to go under a bridge that is too low [IDIOT! says I]. It gets stuck. So all these engineers and other truck drivers and business people stuck in traffic stand around and try to figure out how to get the truck out from under the bridge. Finally, a little boy suggests they let the air out of the tires so that the truck will be low enough to move from under the bridge." Intuition...the fourth out of five aspects of creativity.
• Asleep. Being asleep always seems better than being awake. There is a pillow where you sleep...and dreams are more interesting than real life.
• Working on something important--like one of those many essays. But nooo, you're stuck in DTP trying to find something long enough to hang yourself with.
• Finishing my Gwynne Dyer book so that I can have it back. But only if you're Brendan.
• Rich. But then you wouldn't be very happy. Money can't buy happiness. I used to play a song like that on the piano. I hated it.

So, with all that...I suppose it's time for a life update.

I didn't get into the creative writing class next year. Nor did I make it onto the waiting list. They had a record of 110 submissionsm and only 24 made it. I was not in that 24 and never will be. That's okay though. Katrina has my reasoning for not even wanting to be in that stupid class all worked out. Western is too conservative, I believe, is the angle she takes.

I read 500 pages on the weekend. I am behind by 250 still. 67%. Ouch.

A male ponytail is actually called ponis. I kid you not. Kennedy told me. He never lies.

Shane is back on nights. Ew nights. That means that if I see him, he will be sleeping. And if I don't see him, he probably won't notice.

I'm supposed to go see Rob Thomas at Hamilton Place on Saturday. Shane is supposed to work. Nothing is fun alone. I plan on stealing Jean for my purposes.

And the most exciting news of the day...(this is a drum roll)...I found the sheet music for Better Days. Buy it for me. I will owe you my life.

...You won't hear me, still you endear me now.