arsgloria

Yet more for64weichi 

Fabric of a Relationship
Repacking her bags
she noticed a scrap,
the past in a piece of cloth.
She tucked in her pocket,
the remains of her passion.


Out of the Blue
He called me early
so I wouldn’t spend the night
upset over him.

For 64weichi , who requested poems on starting over and "things along those lines."

Late or Early

Long night winding down,
time to leave came long ago.
Sun still not rising.

I should have known better than to go out with the sky looking like it did, all gray and skuzzy, threatening or promising a downpour at any minute. I don’t like driving in any weather, much less in a deluge, but I hadn’t eaten all day and I figured I might as well go get dinner before the storm hit.

I’m late a lot, I should mention.

The first grumble of thunder rolled down from the sky just as I pulled in to the parking lot. By the time I’d gotten what I needed and ran, the rain had started to come down like fucking meteors. I made the, perhaps unwise, decision to wait in my car until the clouds closed back up again, but the wind and the rain, together, just kept coming harder and I figured I’d sit there forever, if I didn’t hurry up and just go.

If deciding to hang out in my car while the little rainstorm around me worked itself to a tempest wasn’t the smartest thing I could’ve done, leaving at just that moment might just qualify for the title. The wipers on my piddly little Taurus could barely keep up with the violet onslaught and I’m surprised I didn’t wreak. I spent the whole time gripping the wheel like I thought it wanted to escape. Afraid that I would run headlong into someone equally blinded by the storm, I clung to the roadside, occasionally slipping my passenger-side wheels into the already-flooded gutters, sending up great gouts of rainwater.

I got home in one piece, if only just, and parked my car as the far end of the lot. I opened the door for maybe two seconds before I had to slam it closed, again. The rain had started coming down, if anything, harder than before. The lot had flooded just enough that I dreaded walking through it so I again decided to wait it out and see if conditions improved.

I didn’t hear the tornado sirens right away, in part because they don’t have the same rising and falling cadence as the ones I’m used to at home. In fact, they sounded a lot like the howling wind that accompanied this storm. When my nerve-wracked brain finally put two and two together, I leapt out the car so fast I’m surprised I didn’t sprain something. Soaked to the knee, I ran to the nearest building, until the sirens stopped blaring.

I needn’t have worried-the tornado would have hit another part of town, if indeed it had hit at all. I’m hearing now that no one actually spotted a funnel cloud. That’s comforting, certainly, if a great deal less exciting.

I wish I had a camera. I saw an itty bitty bb bunny rabbit outside the dorms, today, and I absolutely lost my shit squeeing over it. Naturally, it fled back into the bushes the minute it saw me. So cute.

My mom makes this all the time, it's wonderful as a coffee cake for breakfast or as a desert. Just make sure you put your cake pan on a cookie sheet or something the like. For whatever reason, half the times we've made it, the topping overflows, ever so slightly and makes a mess in the oven. Usually, it doesn't do this, but cleaning burnt blueberries off the bottom of the oven leaves the cake out in the rain, by which I mean it sucks vast quantities of donkey dick, so.
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The Batshit Tea Party had something going in town, today. I'd made plans to go and heckle with a few friends, maybe find someone with a camera phone to record the craziness. We didn't find out in time to stage a protest, but I'd have liked to mockity-mock them.

Unfortunately, I have three projects to finish by Monday, nothing to record with and no one else to go with. So, I didn't get to go. I might have made it, if I'd had some time to prepare, but I woke up late, like an hour before the "rally" started.

I think I'll walk down to the library book sale to sulk.

Don't read this while eating, please.

I don't understand what the problem is with Subway men's rooms. When I worked at a Subway restaurant last summer, I sometimes had to clean the bathroom. Hell, sometimes I volunteered, since very few other people actually did anything but sit around waiting for someone to notice they'd vanished for 15 minutes whenever they got that particular chore. I've always felt that restaurants in particular needed clean bathrooms, so I always made an extra effort to make sure ours at least didn't reek.
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I found the manga for Death Note at the library yesterday, so I'm going to try it out.  I normally don't like anime or manga at all, just not my thing, but so far this one's pretty good.  Ryuk's illustration freaks me out, though.  Those eyes're going to haunt my dreams, tonight.  It doesn't help that there's one person I know who I'd like to think that I'd totally death note if I could.

In news you don't give two hairy fucks about, I just lit a tea towel on fire. I used it to pick up a kettle I'd set on the stove and I smell something like roasting marshmallows. I set the kettle down and this towel has burst into flames on one side. I doused it before I could light anything else, myself included, thank God, but the kitchen still smells vaugley like burning sugar. I'm going to go drink my tea and try not to have a panic attack.

I checked out the first Twilight book today, since a friend kept begging me to reread it and get a third opinion. It smells of wee. I'm not even kidding. A friend (not the one who badgered me to give Smeyer another chance) thinks someone decided to read it high and had an "incident." I think some fanbrat checked it out and tried to scent mark Edward. Either way, it's icky.