Ok, I took a minute to do some free associations. Scary. It sounds like I am hungry and missing the 80's. Hmmm... I can't say that's entirely untrue. I did eat a burrito and a tomato this morning so I shouldn't be THAT hungry... Anyway, here it is.

lemon, ashtray, poodle, alien, FBI, pizza, banana peppers, chili, skateboard, elephant, orange, ear, green tea, reeboks, ping-pong, break-dance, saddle, crackle paint, Yellow

I think I'm turning into a hate monger. Some chick rear ended me this morning and kept going. Isn't that nice? I wanted to chase her down_but then what would I do? jeeze. I saw the whole thing happen in my rearview, she was putting on mascara.

GRRRRR

I hope the brush poked her in the eye.

I'm trying to decide whether I should go home and visit my mom this weekend... since it's week three since the doctors told her she has "two to three weeks" to live. Can you BELIEVE I would actually have to think about whether I want to go or not? Well.. I suck, because I don't want to go. I have been up there the last three weekends and it's just hard. So hard. I start to think about it right now and I already want to curl into a little ball and wimper. I just want to stay home and finish cleaning the house; watch some movies maybe.. but how sick is that?? I mean... If my mom really does die next week, what kind of person would that make me? So. I have to go. Even though I don't have enough money or time, even though we don't get one second to talk because there are a hundred screaming kids and other adults that all want those few minutes with her. Even though staring at her doesn't do much good for either of us, any of us.. it still is the right thing to do. I love my mom, I would do just about anything I can think of to keep her alive.. but what good is this weekend stare-fest? I just want to go home and curl up.. I want to sleep. I want to wake up and be sooo relieved because this was just a nightmare and be amazed at how real it felt.

and ya know.. I'm not going to read my girlfriend's blog anymore.. because it hurts my feelings that she's more passionate about tv than she is about me. *sigh*

I am just really fucking depressed right now.

plus my lean cusine meal was super grose... some garlic chicken in angel hair pasta thing.. nasty. It sounded good, it just let me down.

I feel like barfing. My ear hurts. I don't know why I am writing in this thing... There really isn't much of a point. Am I doing it because I just need to spew? I'm starting to be paranoid about who reads it. Isn't that fucked up? I'm not paranoid that some stranger witll read it, I am paranoid that someone I know will read it and think I suck or I'm dumb. It's like asking for ridicule. I know, I need therapy. And.. my ear hurts. :(

Right now, I'm obsessed with autumn. Not only the changing of the weather or the turning of the leaves, but the symbolism of it all. I love that there is a period that prepares you for winter. A period that lets you wind down your wild and free spirited feelings of summer, stock up on supplies & winterize the deck ... it just feels RIGHT. That's not to say that I'm never sad to see it come. My grandma died in October. My grandpa also died in October..as did my aunt.. but.. October feels to me like a time for letting go. No more swimming, no more bbq's, no more going barefoot or sleeping with the window open ... seriously, a time for letting go... Unless I get killed in a car accident or something, I think I will die in October, too.. I know that's morbid. Sorry about that. It's just so appropriate feeling.

October is all about reds and oranges, warming my hands with a steaming mug between trips to the garden. Harvesting the last of squash, bright orange pumpkins and straggling red tomatoes. It's a little sad and a little comforting, it's about winding down..

I can't believe I don't have a garden. How can a month be 'all about' gardening in my head, when I have no garden? City life is interesting. I think I work just as hard as I used to, but in very different ways. It's a faster pace. Even in the suburbs of Detroit, there doesn't seem to be enough time in the day to do everything I want to do. There isn't enough time to notice things. The other day my girlfriend and I got home from Target, and for some reason we sat in my truck talking for a while before going inside. I was amazed! There must be 30 squirrils that live on my block. They roll around with each other, playing or fighting, zigg-zagg across the road and up the trees and back down again. There is a whole little squirril microcosm going on ON MY STREET. One huge one even dug something up my lawn. I have no idea what it was.. but he knew right where he was going. He screeched to a halt, tapped the ground twice, and dug it up. I think it was an acorn.. did you know Acorns don't grow untill the tree is 50 yrs old? I wonder if the squirills ever notice me. Kinda makes you think, doesn't it? How many things do we look around at and don't notice?

Driving back from Pinconning last weekend, I noticed a few leaves are changing already. Not many, but a few.. enough to put that uneasy feeling into the pit of my stomach. I need to clean the gutters. I need to get the sticks off the roof, I need to stain the deck, I need to put the gutters that fell off BACK up. I need to take the fan out of my bedroom window so I don't wake up freezing every morning. I need to find the heavier comforter... *sigh*

I need to accept that summer is over, fall is here.. and winter is on it's way.

You know, it really pisses me off that we're not suppose to wear white after labor day. I like white. When I think of winter, I think white. Who doesn't ? I mean, it's white and blue, right?? Just like spring is green and yellow, sumer is blue and red, fall is red and orange.. and browns... WINTER IS WHITE!! Yet I'm not suppose to wear it. I'm gonna anyway. I want a big, fluffy, white sweater with three snowflakes embroderied across the chest. With a cowel neck... very fuzzy, fleece maybe or velour or that stuff that throws are made out of, Chamoise?? ~shrug~

oh well, back to work.. I have a big gay ad to make.

I'm a graphic designer right.. doing work that needs to be done. Working for a lgbtq newspaper, making ok money.. but I'm not so sure I want to be. I like it when I do a good job and people tell me my work is good - and i like knowing I'm not truly workin' for the MAN... but there is this nagging little voice in the back of my head telling me I can do more. Bitching at me.. telling me I SHOULD be doing more.

Then I think about going back to school. I always wanted to teach art when I was a kid, or make greeting cards. Funny huh, it's not that far off from graphic design. Except.. I'm not so sure putting drop shadows on rainbow flags is doing it for me any more. :-o Making greeting cards OR teaching art somehow feels more valid and susbstantial to me right now. Teaching young minds to think differently, to express themselves... bringing smiles to people's faces who are in desperate need of a smile... Creating work with heart. what do I really acomplish now after a day of work? I don't know if I can answer that.

Obviously I need to think more about this.

So.. my girlfriend showed me her blog, and warned me not to correct her grammar. I find that somewhat funny _ since I think grammar should be outlawed. I don't do writing rules... I think text can be art, and should be thought of as art. Writing should be about sharing a little chunk of yourself. I think we should feel free to contextually evolve. Our lives change every single moment.. a snickers wrapper soars across the parking lot and things change. Change isn't just for artists, you know. Change is everyone. {{everyone's an artist, everyone can evolve}}

peace, ya'll

- kari