Junk Drawer

Last night I woke up about 2:30 and couldn't get back to sleep. Flipped through channels trying to find anything that might be watchable. VH-1 Classic had a Siouxsie and the Banshees video. I enjoyed it, but it seemed to unsettle the cats. Click. Switched to the menu function to see if there was anything that caught my eye. FMC was showing The Gay Deception. That almost seemed promising...but instead it's some movie from 1935 about a woman who comes into a lot of money; not about Ted Haggard or others like him. No Star Trek or any National Geographic or History Channel documentaries that I wanted to watch. So I ended up on MSNBC watching Alexandra Pelosi's (daughter of "San Francisco Liberal Values" Speaker of the House Nancy (who happens to have a street near the Inner Harbor in Baltimore named for her)) Journeys With George, her documentary about travelling with W. during the 2000 election. It was startling in a lot of ways. I reccomend it, though sometimes I found myself getting pissy and flipping back to music videos.

I finally saw the Beyonce & Shakira video. Amazing how effortless it seems for Shakira to be sexy and in control of her own body. Beyonce just worked so hard. Even with a wind machine blowing her to hell and back she didn't pull it off. If she screws like she dances I pity Jay Z--especially if that's her "sexy" face. I need the Shakira album.

At some point I fell asleep. Dreamed (twice !) about being at a prom-like function. I wasn't in formal wear but a blazer, a baggy madras plaid shirt, slacks and (big gay inhale) sandals! I kept running into the daughter of a former coworker and said the same thing each time: "I haven't seen you in ages." She had on too much eyeliner (which only accentuates her lazy eye) and a fuschia sequined gown with assymetrical shoulders. The left shoulder was a mass of dyed-to-match maribou and feathers. It resembled nothing so much as tumorous cotton candy.

~*~

My thighs hurt like hell. It's deceptively sunny out. Chilly. This is just not cricket. Sunny means warm, dammit.

~*~

Poems have been coming but then stalling out about 8 lines in. I'm leaving them in the cannibal file and hoping that I can go back and work with them. They feel promising when I'm drafting but aside from the initial flash, there's nothing. Distressing.