concretekiss

Early yesterday morning as we waited half awake for our table at Magnolia, Elise lay her head in my lap as she'll occasionally do in a room full of people. But her shoulders trembled & I saw she was crying. She wilted over my arm, as I asked her what it was. "I want to be a mermaid!" OH, & I wanted her to, & almost burst into tears myself. What kind of wack-job world is this?
The next 20 minutes were spent @ 8 in 84, the morning after I'd had the Greatest Dream where Kirk Cameron took me to a very important dance & kissed me in front of the prisses who'd hissed at me on the playground. How at my mother's question of why I was crying into my cheerios I howled, "I'm uglyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy."
You know if I think about it hard enough it really fuckin' sucks that I'm not a mermaid, either.

Finally rained here a little, & it's warm enough to drive around with the windows down in it. We had to tiptoe around but we found a Snail Saga.

See these two snails are married & cheating with eachother on the sly
or it is a duel to the death.

or they just met & are falling in love, or they are making a drug exchange

& here comes the husband home from work or this psychopath on a rampage.

I think those three days on the beach desensitized me to dirt. I wasn't too concerned with keeping the earth off this weekend. I like to think that when I wear a wife beater, then somewhere in the world a wife is spared a beating though, that doesn't really stop him from beating her while wearing saaaay ok ok ok ok to bed with me.