"I Think I've Seen Every Star in the Sky Tonight"
I went fishing today. And I caught a fish. Sounds innocent, right? Well, too bad I didn't have a license so I was BREAKING THE LAW. Who knew such a dumb sport could be so scandalous and exciting?
Yes, I went fishing instead of studying for geology or doing my laundry or one of the thousand better tasks I could have chosen for today. I wasted an entire Saturday. Do you know how that makes me feel? Antsy and uncomfortable and if I could skip Stake Conference I would in a heartbeat just so I could scrabble my life back together, but somehow that would just make things worse. My roommate is busy doing her hair to make herself look all attractive and presentable, while here I sit, tapping away at my keyboard. I think this is why writers drink themselves to death. Faced with a life of alcoholism, though, with a possible escape in hermitude with cave-dwelling mountain goats, I would choose the goats. They can be companions in ways that empty bottles never could be. Except to perhaps Hemingway.
On a completely unrelated note, Sirius is finally up. It is the most beautiful star you will ever see, I promise you. Go outside and look at it. And don't foget to check out Rigel and Procyon and Aldebaran and the twins Pollux and Castor. But they will never replace Arcturus, which is my favorite. Too bad Arcturus is a summer star, so I never get to see it. I could draw some obvious parallels there, but I'll leave that up to you, the reader. Five pages on my desk by Friday.
Yes, I went fishing instead of studying for geology or doing my laundry or one of the thousand better tasks I could have chosen for today. I wasted an entire Saturday. Do you know how that makes me feel? Antsy and uncomfortable and if I could skip Stake Conference I would in a heartbeat just so I could scrabble my life back together, but somehow that would just make things worse. My roommate is busy doing her hair to make herself look all attractive and presentable, while here I sit, tapping away at my keyboard. I think this is why writers drink themselves to death. Faced with a life of alcoholism, though, with a possible escape in hermitude with cave-dwelling mountain goats, I would choose the goats. They can be companions in ways that empty bottles never could be. Except to perhaps Hemingway.
On a completely unrelated note, Sirius is finally up. It is the most beautiful star you will ever see, I promise you. Go outside and look at it. And don't foget to check out Rigel and Procyon and Aldebaran and the twins Pollux and Castor. But they will never replace Arcturus, which is my favorite. Too bad Arcturus is a summer star, so I never get to see it. I could draw some obvious parallels there, but I'll leave that up to you, the reader. Five pages on my desk by Friday.
posted by juxtaposer at 7:56 PM
5 Comments:
I miss hearing you say Arcturus. The end.
I'm a cave-dweller, myself. I'm sure I could see my way into being a mountain goat also. And empty bottles are sparkly. There's a fantastic story in Spanish literature suggesting as much . . .
Arcturus. Man I love puns.
yeah, peace iz wonderful...but kyndness shall rule the ever-glade, not by vision. But by mood...byg whoop, who'z down for koffee? lol
Hey, I remember those stars! Just not where they are anymore...
(yeah, right now I'm just reading old blogs and commenting on them...)
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