Congratulations on changing your life!

I'm only updating this because of the complaints I get. It's funny because the complaints are mostly coming from people I know face to face. They could certainly just ask me what was going on with my life (and they do) so this diary seems a bit superfluous in that respect. ah, well here's a run down.

I was planning on updating earlier this week with some late breaking news. I was going to scream at the top of my lungs (read font size=6) about how I woke up in the morning to no heat, no stove, no microwave, and little to no plumbing. I was going to rant about how Rashaun's note to the Mississippi Senate President in reference to cutting our college's funding (which read "Everything is broken and we are starving. Send help.") was so appropriate to our position. But you see, that time came and gone and now we have heat again, a new stove, a borrowed microwave, and our toilet drains water like a dream. Can you say "no longer appropriate"?

I was also going to give the story of This Bike is a Pipe Bomb's triumphant return to our town. I was going to talk about how they fixed us lovely Vee-jin foods day and night until our stove exploded. But I don't remember half the things that happened those nights now. It was fun, and you missed it, that's all. neener neener.

I can talk about this: A house exploded a bit down the road from this computer. I was playing Driver, trying to chase an ambulance and outrace a police car, and meanwhile outside their real counterparts were racing down the road spraying foam all over the streets as they hosed down the few lose boards that stood. As I understood it there was a gas explosion and a few seconds/minutes later there was no longer a house. After Tiffany called to tell me the meaning of the rukus, I had to be one of those people that drives by the smoldering accident just to stare. On an errand I went by the Dakin house and told them the story. Then of course we had to take trip number two out there. I stop by my Mom's house and casually tell the news...in a few seconds they want me to hop in the car with them. I only narrowly avoid this. Trip number 3 by the ashes happened when Crystal...I mean my roomate heard the news. Eventually I learned to shut my mouth, and I think trip number 4 that night was when I staked out the place with my 4 x 5 camera. Late into the night, as I'm kneeling with wet pants and a tripod in front of the accident, a cop comes by shining his headlights thru the fog like some stupid alien encounter movie. Instead of knocking me around for being out late AND loitering at a crime-ish scene, he just chats with me about the condition of the people that were in the house. He offers to shine his spotlight to help me with the pictures. I tell him, no thank you, floodlight is not the most natural way to capture a spooky fucking mess.

It's hot in Mississippi today. Tomorrow it's going to rain. Roll your pants legs up.

I'm only updating this because of the complaints I get. It's funny because the complaints are mostly coming from people I know face to face. They could certainly just ask me what was going on with my life (and they do) so this diary seems a bit superfluous in that respect. ah, well here's a run down. I was planning on updating earlier this week with some late breaking news. I was going to scream at the top of my lungs (read font size=6) about how I woke up in the morning to no heat, no stove, no microwave, and little to no plumbing. I was going to rant about how Rashaun's note to the Mississippi Senate President in reference to cutting our college's funding (which read "Everything is broken and we are starving. Send help.") was so appropriate to our position. But you see, that time came and gone and now we have heat again, a new stove, a borrowed microwave, and our toilet drains water like a dream. Can you say "no longer appropriate"? I was also going to give the story of This Bike is a Pipe Bomb's triumphant return to our town. I was going to talk about how they fixed us lovely Vee-jin foods day and night until our stove exploded. But I don't remember half the things that happened those nights now. It was fun, and you missed it, that's all. neener neener. I can talk about this: A house exploded a bit down the road from this computer. I was playing Driver, trying to chase an ambulance and outrace a police car, and meanwhile outside their real counterparts were racing down the road spraying foam all over the streets as they hosed down the few lose boards that stood. As I understood it there was a gas explosion and a few seconds/minutes later there was no longer a house. After Tiffany called to tell me the meaning of the rukus, I had to be one of those people that drives by the smoldering accident just to stare. On an errand I went by the Dakin house and told them the story. Then of course we had to take trip number two out there. I stop by my Mom's house and casually tell the news...in a few seconds they want me to hop in the car with them. I only narrowly avoid this. Trip number 3 by the ashes happened when Crystal...I mean my roomate heard the news. Eventually I learned to shut my mouth, and I think trip number 4 that night was when I staked out the place with my 4 x 5 camera. Late into the night, as I'm kneeling with wet pants and a tripod in front of the accident, a cop comes by shining his headlights thru the fog like some stupid alien encounter movie. Instead of knocking me around for being out late AND loitering at a crime-ish scene, he just chats with me about the condition of the people that were in the house. He offers to shine his spotlight to help me with the pictures. I tell him, no thank you, floodlight is not the most natural way to capture a spooky fucking mess. It's hot in Mississippi today. Tomorrow it's going to rain. Roll your pants legs up.
My AIM changed to gingermissippy for now. ginger@mosquitoinc.org