In my dance improv life, there is a game called "Next."
What happens is that you start to improvise and then someone says (barks/yells/commands) "Next" and you move on to the next idea until you come to the one that is interesting and worth developing.
Things finally got cold enough in SF that it is officially winter. I've taken to wearing headphones in my office as earmuffs.
so the holy days are here again along with the conundrum of stuff purchasing.
myspace strikes again. I got un-top-friended by someone I un-top-friended. fucker.
I adopted a little Tortoise Tortellini Turtle Tiger monster. Her name is little T.
Shit is crazy right now. Tearing down low income housing in New Orleans as if poor folks there weren't fucked over enough and talks of going to war with Iran. I wonder what Little T thinks about it all.
scratch the litter box
fuck george bush. reowww.