December 10th, 2005.

Last night we played at Huckleberry’s in Abingdon, MD. Fine and good, not quite as Christmassy as Victoria Station in Putnam, CT, but it’s what it made me think of. Gas fire in the not-quite-wood stove, Christmas tree and lights behind us. I liked it there, and we even drew a pretty decent little crowd for the night after the first real snow of the season.

My energy was really weird, partially, I think because I’m going through another “let’s not sleep at ALL!!!” phase. I had trouble keeping our “family environment” in mind – which was probably just fine as our audience consisted of a lot of kids who were probably old enough to get all the humour, just not old enough for me to feel comfortable with the fact that they got it. I thin I’m officially now a bad influence.

However, even if I smoked, there’s no WAY I would’ve given that kid a cigarette! He must’ve been… 13 at the OLDEST?

Sigh.

aSNOW!!! I guess I take this same photograph (or one very similar to it) with every snow fall, hey? It's cause it's visible from Heather's parents' doorstep sans putting my shoes on. WhatEVER.
SNOW!!! I guess I take this same photograph (or one very similar to it) with every snow fall, hey? It’s cause it’s visible from Heather’s parents’ doorstep sans putting my shoes on. WhatEVER.

Anywho, I’d finally found my feet and we were going okay right up until someone decided to sit right in the front with a pretty bad cough and a Nintendo something or other. Surre it was silent, and sure I know he enjoys the music, but his coughing wasn’t (especially not during Illinois is Overflowing) and the whole thing filled me with a special kind of rage.

Heather and I at Huckleberry's Coffee and Tea Friday night in Abingdon, MD.
Heather and I at Huckleberry’s Coffee and Tea Friday night in Abingdon, MD.

By the end there was definately a whole lot of control going on to remain PC and cool and NOT destroying his flesh with my angry parts.

From there, Heather dropped me off at Amy’s to spend the night and think about what I’d done and to watch Narnia the next morning. I usually sleep pretty well at Amy’s, but last night, possibly spurred by the half-sensed movements of her insane catsand the glaring red Hell-light of the lava lamp I was too tired to figure out how to shut off, I was tossy and turny and finally sharply awoken by a half-felt nightmare pain.

I don’t remember the dream really clearly, but there were shadows in that room that looked an awful lot like that little freak-girl from the Ring. The dream was about a blonde, though, with drowned and swollen eye balls and puffy flesh and flowing hair.

I woke up at around 4am with my heart pounding and jumping at every sound. I think I gave Easter (one of the cats) a pretty solid kick when he started yowling in an especially creepy way.

I’ve just been JUMPY recently. Freaked out in the shower the other morning after watching “The Fellowship of the Ring” because I kept visualizing the Watcher of the Deep or whatever it’s called. Mew.

There's no excuse for this. There just isn't! There is speculation that this is perhaps an attempt at pluralization, but... but no.
There’s no excuse for this. There just isn’t! There is speculation that this is perhaps an attempt at pluralization, but… but no.

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