wake up
I wake from groggy sleep. I hear my new next-door neighbor fiddle with his new key in his new lock. For some reason, I need to see him, to peek at him through the mere door that separates his unit from mine. It is late, but still I think: just one peek. There has been no male living in this house in the past year and a half. I am for irrational reasons terrified of the day that there will be a male living here; it upsets my peace of mind for wordless reasons, some of which you can guess and some of which are only shadows cast on the wall of my imagination. Yet another reason for me to move out, and soon. It takes me minutes to make it across my floor, creeping silently with bare feet on hardwood. The cat follows, also silent. I do not know why it’s...
Read Moretime to go
I keep thinking I’ll have time to post about my trip to Tucson, and then something else comes up. At least there are photos. Tonight I decided to celebrate by going to my favorite Indian place and having my favorite dish. When I came out of the restaurant and arrived at my car, someone had tucked a brilliantly red rose underneath my left windshield-wiper. Creepy stalker possibilities aside, I thought it was awfully sweet. Thanks, random rose-giving stranger. This is a backwards entry. I didn’t tell you what I was celebrating, did I? Zen and I are moving to the City. *tries to refrain from bouncing in her seat, and fails miserably* Tuesday night, I went to see Inkbot’s flat again, even though I thought it was darling the first time I saw it. ...
Read Morethis is not a test
Did you know that every year fire kills more Americans than all natural disasters combined? So why were there four “dead” patrons in our library fire drill today? They just couldn’t be bothered to evacuate, instead choosing to ignore the scream of the alarm in favor of one … last … email. If you are lucky enough to have advanced warning of a fire, you have precious few moments to get yourself to safety before you die. Remember what death is? It’s like logging off, only forever. And if you think fire drills are a joke, then you tell me: do you have an evacuation plan for your home? Do you know where the emergency exits are where you work? This is not a test; this is your real life. And when someone is putting her own real...
Read Moreat the edge of
I am still alive but not really. I am skulking at the edge of sleep deprivation. I am skulking and I am flailing. You won’t see me when I pass by your window, the edges of me feathered like old paint. You won’t see me when I pass through and you won’t see me when I pop like a smoke-filled bubble. -pop- The trip to Arizona was beyond wonderful. I am gathering my master’s program application things. My friend Inkbot might be extending her wonderful home to me and Zen soon. I mailed a sad letter. There are folded piles of clothes on my bed and stalks of lavender drying on the sill. This weekend, after celebrating six months of (HMB + the MSG), I steal him off into the forest he knew before me. Of course there’s more to come, but...
Read Morems. xcitement
This day has been more exciting than I can handle. First of all, I found out more about the Master of Arts in Humanities program at my school. It looks fabulous, and I got even better news when speaking with an admissions counselor. This fall, they are adding a brand-new track to the MA in Humanities: a creative writing emphasis. Hell yes. I filled out my application on the spot. Now I just have to get my letters of recommendation, personal statement, transcripts, and creative writing portfolio together. It’s looking really good, folks. In email, Victor informed me that he finished my ‘BlogTone, which I think is just the cutest little groove! Go listen; it’s a Flash hoomiejobbie in the sidebar on quill’s index page. After work, I...
Read Morecandy cane in april
In the pet store earlier this evening, I watched a small child eat a candy cane and thought to myself, “There is nothing sadder than a candy cane in April.” After giving one of my friends a pep talk on finishing out the semester with a bang, I realized I had mentioned the Masters in Humanities program at my school no less than three times today. So I went to look at the webpage. And thought to myself, “There is something sadder than a candy cane in April, and that’s not taking advantage of free tuition.” Seriously, though. I have no idea when San José State University will get its act together on the MLIS front, and my interest in becoming a “full-fledged librarian” has waned considerably. What hasn’t waned...
Read Moremobility
One of my employees is very ill today, so I’m at home for a while before heading back to close till 23:00. Fun. I had to cancel dinner plans with the MSG, but maybe this will break my insomnia into little pieces. I signed up for Dodgeball, which is, to quote my friend Ryan, “creepy and cool at the same time.” Now I can email the service from my mobile with my current location and it will broadcast my location to all of my friends who have signed up and been approved. It will also let me know if any friends-of-friends are within ten blocks of me. Creepy, yet cool. Which reminds me: T-Mobile now carries the Nokia 6600, which I was lusting after before the MSG showed me the 7610. And then it was just all over. [Update: I had to add this review...
Read Moremoleskine love
Warning: insomnia-induced mushiness follows! My current written journal is kept in a Moleskine. To say I am happy with this notebook would be an understatement to end all understatements. Its heavy cream acid-free pages, its elastic closure, its stitched-in bookmark all make me deliriously happy. I adore gluing bus transfers and dried flower petals and ticket stubs into it. And writing in it with my fountain pen tickles my every nerve. Earlier today, after two months of owning this incredible notebook, I discovered the inner note holder. Inner. Note. Holder. Pardon me while I melt. If you are melting, too, you should visit Moleskinerie, a blog devoted to this exquisite little...
Read Morereeling
Coming down off the sulking high (read: low) Friday morning, I reacquainted myself with the illness of the beginning of the month. Joy. This time, I had to actually venture into the HMO o’ Doom to retrieve antibiotics. I had worked myself up into such a state that by the time my NP saw me, she was more worried about my heart rate than the infection. I’m somewhat concerned that the pharmacy peeps know me now by sight. They seem to get a special kick out of greeting me loudly with the name of my utterly uncomfortable condition. By the time I drove into the City that night, I was on the verge of tears, and for more reasons than physical ones. It’s convenient to say it’s “that time of the month” but really it’s just me...
Read MoreSulk-a-Thon
Beginning at 15:00 today, I have been conducting the First AND Last ‘Sted Memorial Sulk-a-Thon. I am so tired of sulking in response to something that upsets me that I’m going to do all my sulking in a twenty-four-hour period, and then no more. Listening to the Smiths’ “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now” twenty times in a row has a sort of hallucinogenic effect, coloring everything — including this endeavor — stupid and pointless. Or perhaps it’s just the X-treme sulking (no pouts barred!) that I’m doing. I’m usually just a periodic sulker, so this intense sulkfest has been a bit of a mindfuck. I mean, overdoing something I like doing in the first place is kind of tough. Overdoing something I hate...
Read MoreNestcam
The cam was last on Friday, May 4.
Hello What
I am Halsted, a/k/a cygnoir, and I do stuff with words.
My favourite things to do with words are keeping this diary, writing stories, and organising information.
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Tenacious D
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