I am running at 65% capacity. I can't figure out what the deal is. Well, I can, but not a lot can be done right now. not unless I have a runway to land on. Some place to taxi into.

Plans have been started for this landing place. Just need for a little time to go by, and I was never too good with patience. At least, having it. Must be a work in progress.

I've been watching movies all afternoon, pecking away at some Flash fiction (which I just love writing, it's my new thing) and reading short stories by some unknown (to me) female writer in Canada. At least one of us is getting read. But I brought something like 90 movies up with me, plus procured a ton more via Amazon (not counting the endless tv on dvd I've got stored up like a squirrel storing acorns) and haven't really watching much other than the new stuff that came in over the past year. Depressing. So I am on a little mission to watch old favourites this weekend (work permitting).

One Cusack movie and I see a resemblance between my first longtime (10 years of a lovely alcoholic mother-in-law among other things) boyfriend and Mr. Cusack. Daaaamn. It's like finding out that your favourite fat free dessert is chock full of fat, preservatives and (somehow) cancer causing carcinogens.

Don't get me wrong. I'll still indulge in that Cusack movie goodness, but sheez.

I've been thinking a lot about painting lately. Due to a lot of restrictions, I didn't bring any large canvases with me just small little 8 by 10s. Which are not conducive to my sort of paint splattering. I've tried ver the past year to produce something I would keep, but nope. Nothing yet. Mind you, I haven't tried that hard. Maybe tomorrow.

After I sleep for 12 hours.

Been listening to and old favourite of mine and Sam's by Southern Culture on the Skids (Walk Like a Camel) and it still makes me laugh. And wish for a cowboy hat, for some reason. Oh and horny boots. Oh yeth.

So, hyperlink me outta here, baby.