snippets of last night's dreams:

-bradley was really drunk and hanging out with some other girl (who was also drunk). he got into an accident on his bicycle -- there was a lot of blood, but he just had a few scratches on his upper thigh (also, his cut-offs were way shorter than usual). the girl dragged him out of the road to the sidewalk. i watched all of this from the other side of the road and i worried about him, but for some reason i couldn't cross the street to help. after he had cleaned up a bit, he started talking with my uncle terry, who was sitting in a dark corner of a crowded party. that's where i found him. i sat down with him and he put his head on my shoulder.

-i kept walking past mirrors and catching glimpses of really dark hair on my upper lip, and i panicked.

-i drank ligon's chocolate silk straight from the carton that's in her fridge (i'm staying at her house in lubbock right now, and there really is a carton of chocolate silk in her fridge); i chugged it until there was only one sip left in the carton (probably all backwash), at which point i said, unapologetically, "here ligon. there are a few drops left." and then i woke up.

favorites:

one of my favorite things to do is to pick up interesting little bits of flora that i find on the ground. acorns, magnolia seedpods, twigs, nuts, etc. i put my findings in a little turquoise ceramic bowl on my kitchen table. this is one such thing that i've found recently:
and this is another:

my friday morning:

an early 2-mile jog;
two cups of coffee;
a spanish test;
an aggressive hum and the fresh smell of cut grass;
a patch of sunlight;
a good book (i joined the denton public library system yesterday).

this is the sight that i've been waking up to lately, at about seven o'clock in the morning. the orange glow is really much more vibrant than my little camera can capture:

stressed, anxious, hungry:

i've been feeling stressed and anxious all day, so i just spent 40 minutes doing yoga in my living room (complete with a soothing soundtrack) and 20 minutes walking around my neighborhood in the drizzle (which was graced by a little peek of sunshine, the first all day) to relieve my stress and anxiety, but i'm still feeling stressed and anxious. and now hungry.

do you know about lovebugs?:

i feel that they're an important aspect of life in southeast texas. they have a distinct smell -- not necessarily a pleasant one -- and a distinct association -- with summer -- in my mind.

it's lovebug season in full force down here. lovebugs are everywhere: floating around, clinging to hair and clothes and bare skin, hanging around the threshold of every door, hundreds and hundreds smashed on the front of each auto on the road, copulating all the while.

i just read about them a bit here; quite interesting.

one potato:

last night i dreamt of potato stamps. remember those from elementary school? i haven't a clue what i could have seen or done that would trigger my brain to lug that old, faded memory out of its archives. anyway, does anyone want to join me in a nostalgic craft project sometime?

also, i've listened to beach house's 'devotion' all the way through about five times today.

new, nothing new:

i'm always sleepy,
and i want to go camping!

things that i noticed on my run this evening:

two tree trunks, intertwined;
an unnamed alleyway;
a cluster of hedge apples on a patch of bright green grass;
an old, discarded shoe-stretcher;
virgin mary figurines resting on a rusty window unit.

(if nothing else is working out for me right now, at least i'm feeling a bit healthier every day, and simultaneously memorizing the subtle details in the houses and the sidewalks and the trees of my new neighborhood.)

right now:

it's raining outside; there is a loud, irregular drip on the ledge outside of my living room window. also, there is a more constant sound of dripping coming from my kitchen, as my broken faucet leaks into a dirty pot in the sink.

the two sounds combined are making me feel crazy.

also:

i'm currently reading 'the facts behind the helsinki roccamatios' by yann martel, which chronicles a young man's struggle with aids and his friend's struggle to distract him from his inevitable death.

coincidentally, this evening i came across leroy sievers' blog, 'my cancer', where the journalist documents his personal battle against the disease. he passed away a few days ago, and i'm reading it backwards. his entries are so striking and concise, about the little ways in which his life changes as cancer slowly takes over his body. so beautiful and sad.

ghost cat:

i'll miss you forever, baby boy.