Crawly Things
What is it called when you keep seeing blurry crawly scurrying things out of the corners of your eyes and then when you look they're gone?
I can't stand it.
It might be called staying up too late, eating too many all-dressed chips (straight from Canada (you need a passport to visit there starting the first of January, 2007 (I have to get one now, because I'm addicted to these darn chips.))), and worrying that I'm not spending my time on this planet with the urgency I need to get what I want to get done...done.
I'm going to a wedding today. I'm going to be wearing something, but I don't know what yet, since my mother hasn't picked the clothes out yet (I don't usually let my mom dress me, but this is a wedding for crying out loud.) and I'm not usually the kind of kid who worries about things like what I'm going to wear.
These damned crawly things! They're turning my nervous system inside out.
Oh, and by the way: When I was in Ann Arbor the other weekend, I bought some comics. Flight 3, which I've been looking for everywhere but have just now got my hands on, Neil Gaiman's Eternals Issue 1...of 6. There's a comics shop in Lansing so I'll be able to get them all as they come out...I'm a completist, but only when it doesn't come to my own work. And I also picked up volumes 8 and 9 of Gaiman's run of The Sandman, World's End and The Kindly Ones. Read them both; they're both good.
I have to say: When I have kids, they'll have plenty of comic books to look at. Not that I'm rushing it or anything.
Gah. I'm also reading the short stories from the Nebula Awards Schowcase 2003 at the moment, and the general vibe I'm getting is that if you write something quirky and lifeless, with witty dialogue and a plot that's completely forgettable, you might just get a Nebula Award.
That's just my impression; doesn't mean it's right or anything. But it probably is.
~---------~
One last thing. Let's say it's summer time. And you eat a plum, only it's really not ripe, and it's really bad, and you're not within easy walking distance (let's say twenty feet) of a trash can. Please don't decide to just wrap the half-eaten thing up in a kleenex and leave it on your bedside table. I speak from experience; I didn't know so many fruit flies could assemble so quickly.
And yeah, sometimes they're the crawly things.
I can't stand it.
It might be called staying up too late, eating too many all-dressed chips (straight from Canada (you need a passport to visit there starting the first of January, 2007 (I have to get one now, because I'm addicted to these darn chips.))), and worrying that I'm not spending my time on this planet with the urgency I need to get what I want to get done...done.
I'm going to a wedding today. I'm going to be wearing something, but I don't know what yet, since my mother hasn't picked the clothes out yet (I don't usually let my mom dress me, but this is a wedding for crying out loud.) and I'm not usually the kind of kid who worries about things like what I'm going to wear.
These damned crawly things! They're turning my nervous system inside out.
Oh, and by the way: When I was in Ann Arbor the other weekend, I bought some comics. Flight 3, which I've been looking for everywhere but have just now got my hands on, Neil Gaiman's Eternals Issue 1...of 6. There's a comics shop in Lansing so I'll be able to get them all as they come out...I'm a completist, but only when it doesn't come to my own work. And I also picked up volumes 8 and 9 of Gaiman's run of The Sandman, World's End and The Kindly Ones. Read them both; they're both good.
I have to say: When I have kids, they'll have plenty of comic books to look at. Not that I'm rushing it or anything.
Gah. I'm also reading the short stories from the Nebula Awards Schowcase 2003 at the moment, and the general vibe I'm getting is that if you write something quirky and lifeless, with witty dialogue and a plot that's completely forgettable, you might just get a Nebula Award.
That's just my impression; doesn't mean it's right or anything. But it probably is.
~---------~
One last thing. Let's say it's summer time. And you eat a plum, only it's really not ripe, and it's really bad, and you're not within easy walking distance (let's say twenty feet) of a trash can. Please don't decide to just wrap the half-eaten thing up in a kleenex and leave it on your bedside table. I speak from experience; I didn't know so many fruit flies could assemble so quickly.
And yeah, sometimes they're the crawly things.
1 Comments:
Ok why would you just leave a plum on your table? You did this last summer with a peach and I had to clean it up for you. Serves you right to have fruit flies. Love you.
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