far too much writing, far too many photos

runswithscissors


Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Yesterday morning: dragged my sleepy bod out of bed, made the long stumble to the kitchen. Pulled up by the sink, groped a glass from the drying rack, turned on the tap. Felt something brush my right foot. Looked down, found myself staring blurrily at a hugeass bug. Not a cockroach, exactly, or at least not the model I've seen stateside. Two inches long, perhaps a touch more. Wide, bulky, clad in shiny black armor, big antennae waving about as if confused, nonplussed (understandable given the sudden appearance of a gigantic -- all things being relative -- honkey in what had been a peaceful space, wide open to exploration).

This apartment is not a roach hotel, never has been during my time here. Teeny tiny ants have appeared this spring, poking innocuously around the kitchen end of the space, too shy and in numbers far too small to get bothered about -- apart from that, the encounters with alien life forms experienced here can be counted on one hand. Two hands, counting the occasional sighting out in the stairway. Nothing to complain about for three and a half years of tenancy, especially factoring in the building's age.

As my half-open eyes took in yesterday a.m.'s big bruiser and the information found its way to mental processing centers, my little bod leaped into the air as if we'd just come face to face with something created by H.R. Geiger. A moment of my body going Whoa! before getting a grip. I put my still-empty glass over the critter, slipped a sheet of paper under it, opened a window, dumped the intruder out on the ledge. Studied it for a minute as it checked out its new situation (fresh air, lower temperature, noise of people down in the street), thought about grabbing my camera, decided against it (critter too creepy looking). Got on with the day.

This morning: woke up around 4 a.m., found myself thinking entirely in Spanish, as if a switch had been flicked. Flowing easily, naturally -- pure, uninterrupted Castellano, continuing that way until I fell back to sleep some time later. When I woke up for real around 8, the world outside audibly gearing up for the work day, my thoughts had reverted back to the normal English/Spanish mix, where they've remained for the balance of the day.

Strange.

It's Wednesday. I have no idea where Monday and Tuesday went.

On to schoolwork. Later.


Madrid, te quiero.

rws 1:04 PM [+]

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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
September 2001
October 2001
November 2001
December 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
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November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
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June 2005
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September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
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April 2006
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January 2007
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April 2007
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July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


MORE FOCUSED BLATHERINGS

Personal History



Travels:
London '01
Pamplona
Italy '03
U.K. '03
Sevilla
Casablanca
Stoke-on-Trent
Barcelona
Québec/Ottawa
Boston/Lisbon/Madrid
Italy '04
Montréal
La Sierra

Events:
Madrid -- arrival
9/11
Emergency Room I
Holidays 2001
Holidays 2002
Holidays 2003
Holidays 2004
Holidays 2005
A neighbor's passing
Madrid -- March 11 bombings
  and aftermath
Emergency Room II
Israeli friend/Madrid Marathon
Madrid -- Royal Wedding
The DELE exam

Excerpts from GONE, a novel:
Chapter 1 (complete)
Chapter 6 (complete)
Chapter 8 (excerpt)
Chapter 9 (excerpt)
Chapter 9 (excerpt)

Screenplay excerpt:
BURBANK SHRUGGED

Short stories:
Murphy's Wife
Another Autumn
Queja de Una Hermanastra
  Muy Conocida

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


OTHER SOURCES OF WHOLESOME ENTERTAINMENT

People/Weblogs:
dooce
foxvox
fudge it
fear not
rebekka
bookslut
802online
idle words
madhaiku
wockerjabby
grow-a-brain
digital camel
letting me be
kung fu grippe
franklin avenue
fanatical apathy
baghdad burning
the happy booker
mimi smartypants
between the miles
just a hippie gypsy
tomato can brushes
playing with my food
sugar mountain farm

Good Clean Fun:
gizmodo
futurismic
postsecret
dave barry
human clock
mcsweeney's
spaceweather
book-a-minute
internet archive
self-portrait day
my cat hates you
out of context quotes
surrealist compliment
  generator
strindberg and helium

Makin' Musical Whoopee:
muxtape
soma fm
pandora
last fm

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


ABOUT RWS/CONTACT





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runswithscissors would like to thank everyone who's ever lived for everything they've ever done.



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