So I bought a dress
I can’t remember the last time I bought one, but I remember taking it to Value Village sometime last year, tags still dangling. I think it had been twirling in my closet for at least a decade, although that’s a misleading image I gave you there because nothing actually twirls in my closet. Fuck no. Everything’s jammed together, including the seasons
This dress arrived yesterday and I came home early because I am a child. But it’s too big and although that’s a much better too than it being too small, it is too something else as well and I think that something is the material because it sort of sticks out here and there instead of, you know, landing softly, and for $400 it should fucking cascade if I want it to. Also it should be six inches longer because then it would look too big all over and there’s something nice about that, especially since it’s a dark and lovely shear fabric and it has great big pockets and I planned on wearing it more like a jacket, you know, over jeans and a white tank. With my Fryes.
Because when I wear a dress as a dress I feel like I’m in drag
It’s raining this morning. I can hear the wind and it’s pushing the rain against the windows so I can hear the tic tic tic and it’s nice in a way. Shiny and dark and March-mild. Just wish it was the weekend because that sound goes well with pyjamas and slippers and bacon and eggs and stories, and tea instead of coffee, so when you go back to bed you can actually fall asleep instead of lying or laying there clenching.
And I gave Clutterbucks first season only to someone and they started reading right away and burst out laughing a bunch of times and I was dying and kept saying which part?! which part?! because as I may have mentioned, I am a child. This person has read other things of mine before and has told me some hard-to-take truths so I trust him and he said he can’t wait to read more and I fucking knew it was good but it’s nice to have somebody agree with me.
I am being glared at to death in the tram right now and I guess spellcheck has gone all British on me
The only reason I am coughing is because I took a nice inhale of jerk seasoning powder when I made my lunch this morning and it got stuck in my throat but of course they all think I am patient zeroish, and now you can just fuck off spellcheck.
I’m going to grow geraniums from seed which to me is akin to baking bread from scratch which I am also considering along with a little noodle of an idea that I might just sew my own jacket-dress.
Holy fack
Clearly not enough going on any more to produce the particular variety of chaos I need. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get a new job! Or take up lassooing or even cowboys and maybe odd ones too. Or finally start doing that painting on the kitchen wall I’ve been dreaming up which is not at all the same as painting the kitchen which is far too accomplishable.
But I’ll start with the geraniums. Takes four months so if I start today which I will of course and will obviously have to leave work early for the cause, they’ll be ready to go into the garden in July, which is perfect because when I go to the seed place, I will of course not walk out of there with only geranium seeds. Fuck no. I’ll probably end up with all kinds of seeds including wheat, you know, so I can make that bread from super-scratch.
Anyway. Let’s hope spring, which sounds like a Sandra Bullock movie, but let’s hope it’s for real although I think we’ll get another episode or two, at the very least, of winter. So fucking be it. Whatev. It’s all good.
This is my first time growing anything from seed except pot so I don’t know if any of you are interested, but once I’m done, I’ll be putting the steps in the comment section here in case you want to give it a go with me. I mean why not?
