"i'm george nelson, and i'm feelin' ten feet tall!"

my mom sent me an email last night. among the many little stories she wrote, she notified me that she had cleaned my room ("don't freak out...just to clean out the ballistic dust bunnies under your bed...") and she found, in my nightstand drawer, a folded-up paycheck from last november. lucky for me, my old workplace didn't void their paychecks if they weren't deposited within ninety days, unlike some places.

things are looking up again, as is always the pattern of events in my life. i'd dance to "comanche" at this moment ("bring out the gimp" "the gimp's sleeping" "well, i guess you'll just have to go wake him up, now, woncha?"), just because i've been listening to it for the past hour, but my thighs still hurt from suzuki on friday. baby steps.

that, and talking to my brother got the lawrence welk song stuck in my head. which i know by heart. all thanks to my mom's steadfast love of PBS. i'm not complaining.

i guess i like quotation marks tonight.

-d