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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

the money we make.

leesa and caleb

It's a chilly one here today. The tips of my fingers and toes feel like ice water. I didn't wear longjohns today. I should have. Yes, there are several different types of underwear one must wear in this climate. I remember my mother trying in vain to get me to wear longjohns when I was a kid. I did everything I could to get rid of them, but they kept popping up no matter what. I think she finally gave up when I was around 12.

Now I'm there again, pulling those bastardly things up because they always make my pants fall down. It's annoying, although truth be told they really do keep you warm! Shows how much I thought I knew, back in the day.

Had a little tiny get-together at my place this past weekend. But in the aftermath, I just felt too peopled-up and indulged in complete alone time in my bedroom for the rest of the weekend. Just myself and Bailey, some dvds, a lot of books and a tuna fish sandwich or two. It was good, but not enough. I'm feeling the need for more alone time.
Luckily, it's fairly quiet in the office today.

In other news, I wrote a bunch of postcards for friends. Flickr has the option of using one of their affiliates make you a set of postcards out of your photos. I'd ordered a few sets last Spring (maybe summer) and haven't used too many of them. So, I wrote a whole slew of them out, and intend to post them today. There's a zinger in one of them. I hope that doesn't come back to kick me in the teeth.

Mind you, if I wasn't somewhat interested in a response (please, any response/god, *any* response??) then I wouldn't have written it and sent it out, right? We'll see, if I actually mail it or not. I just can't forget the man's hands, no matter how hard I try or how much time has gone on.

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