Death comes for us all (a melodramatic haiku of retirement)
Alas! this blog is
no longer where it is at.
Onwards! (Back to home.)



guts and garters

It's all fun and games until someone loses molecular cohesion.

Tuesday, August 28, 2001

When I grow up, I want to:
  • be taller. (It's standard.)
  • buy things from Mean Fish design for my abode.
  • have elegant chic, or something.
  • be owned by a cat.
  • meet friends for yuppie ventures like long coffee breaks and dinners in obscure little foreign restaurants.
  • not work 9-til-5.
  • know what I want.
  • not live in the suburbs.
  • be comfortable.

I have an image of an apartment, tiled floors, carpeting, interesting mis-matched furniture, but not in that thrift store way, just in that eclectic way. A nice kitchen - I can't live with a scungy kitchen - and me, drinking coffee, reading the paper, cat wrapped around my ankles and sunshine coming in the window. Cozy, comfortable... me.

But I don't particularly want to grow up.

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