You hear me?
Ramble on
Cleaning house
Here I am...
Body language
Camera One

< ? diary of a feminist ! >

10.06.04 ~@~ 12:08 p.m.

Oh my, what�s this?? An actual entry. Imagine that. I actually haven�t disappeared into a great black hole (although work does sometimes feel like that!) Truthfully, since starting this hectic and challenging job last January, my time at work for reading and writing entries has become non-existent. Then I go home, plop on the couch, exhausted and somewhat avoiding my computer for the rest of the day. My days require so much giving that I�ve been using my non-work time to burrow into self, home (oh the newfound joy of hanging plates on the wall!), and friendly interaction that takes me out of the therapeutic chair. Ahhhhhhh�

The job is good and tiring. Challenging and rewarding. I�m learning and absorbing and working my ass off. Rolling with the flow.

The season that I gain the most creative inspiration from is upon us in this quirky mountain town. Autumn has lent just a subtle chill to the air. The nights are crisper and my coats seem ready to bust out of the closet, ready for their first wear of the season. I am in need of a clicking-heel pair of knee-high black boots to add some flair to my authoritarian (ha! Can you imagine me as authoritarian?!) step down these hallways. Something to coordinate with the ever-so-stylish walkie-talkie radio that I am forced to wear (one day I WILL throw that baby off a very high bridge, I tell ya).

Time is so brief, but I felt the need to ramble�

Reds and oranges and jeweled adorned earlobes.

Bare hands wrapped around steaming mugs of rich, hot coffee. Facing one another, knees touching yours, our breath turning to puffs of smoke as our conversation mingles with the chilly night air. Candlelight and subtleties. Flirting and scruffy cheeks.

All things textured yet indefinable.

My mind loves the complexities of contradiction of opposed elements.

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