found_drama

Spring is settling in and so we’re settling into it. The temps are up to the balmy 60s during the day and even know my WeatherDock is telling me clear and 55. Makes me want to smile. The cat is in every window a lot and seems to want nothing more than to escape and assert his dominance over the neighborhood “low rider cat”. Meanwhile, A. & I did escape for a nice hour-long walk through Barre. Spotted some interesting piece of vintage science in a storefront window, too:

…always fun, no?

Editing goes well, too. Chapters 17 & 18 are going to need some serious overhauling but that’ll come later. Still putting off any serious publication thoughts just yet. It seems premature. That said, a borrowed closing thought for the night:

bookstore employee wisdom #1
If you need help finding the Ayn Rand books, then they’re probably not for you.

Via Boing Boing: Roughly, “flarf” is the name for poetry constructed from spam/wordjunge.  Who knew?

The hallway feels like the one from a high school or middle school. It’s not the lockers but the cieling and the sterile walls and tiling. I’m rushing to the bathroom and when I reach it, I notice that there’s only one stall and it has a labyrinthine entrance. I have to navigate through several twists and turns before I’m and can shut the door. For whatever reason, I flush first but that flush instantly sprays dozens of gallons of water forcefully up into the air, drenching me. The flush doesn’t stop and it keeps throwing water into the air. It isn’t so much that the water is filthy - - but it *is* spraying up out of a toilet. I hear my peers coming to my aide and I try to shout that I’ll be OK but I’m thoroughly soaked and feel disgusting.