Where do I start? I always feel like I need to say a million things before I blog - everything that I've experienced or thought within the last few days or weeks that are my life. Why do I feel this urge to say it all? If not to say it out loud, then to put it somewhere in a form that can be communicated? I don't know, but it's a natural urge. I want other people to feel what I feel, I guess. I suppose it's part of not wanting to be alone. Is that normal?
Anywho. A month now without electricity. Water got cut off next, and most recently; gas. Now my abode provides shelter and nothing else. Well, that's not quite true... it provides the whole 'home' thing. It's the place where I go to sleep and feel secure; the place that isn't a concrete bed or a ceiling made out of a metal drainage grate. It's where the doggies are, and the candles, and the chair where I curl up and read my e-book at night with my pen light, wrapped up in a sleeping bag, with a beer on the lamp table. It's my cave, and my cave provides the bare necessities of shelter and security. That's all I ever wanted, really.
Tonight after work I needed water. The doggies needed water, the commode needed water for flushing, the cup needed water for teeth brushing, and the jug on the counter needed water; just because. Don't even ask me about showering. So, I walked around the neighborhood, shining my flashlight on the houses as I passed, trying to spot a convenient outside faucet. I finally came upon one a couple of blocks up the road. I know Matt would have balked at the idea of just walking up and filling the gallon jugs at somebody else's outside faucet; but heck, is that really stealing? I guess; technically... but I don't think the idea of stealing would be the real issue. It's the idea of invading somebody's personal space; of creeping up on their personal property and just taking liberty with it. And water is a pretty personal thing, I guess...
Anywho, Matt has been gone for about a week now; working in Oklahoma, so as long as I'm alone, I get to break the rules. It took me two trips, walking up and down a few blocks, to acquire four gallons of illicit water. I didn't get caught, the commode got flushed, the doggies got a drink, I can brush my teeth tomorrow, and the gallon jug got filled and is now sitting on the counter. All is well.
Let's see, what else... oh yeah. I fell flat on my face the other night. No, I wasn't walking with my face buried in my e-book; I was actually carrying groceries home. It was night time, I was taking a shortcut, and a branch was lying in the middle of the path. I hit that thing and went from 90 degrees to FLAT in about a half a second. It hurt. Oh boy, did it hurt. Nothing hurts worse than surprise, unexpected, undeserved pain. My gallon jug of water that I had just bought (yeah, I actually bought that one) popped its lid, and about a third of it spilled out before I could gather myself and set it upright again. My Arizona Tea and my 16 oz Budweiser went rolling in two different directions, but luckily they didn't bust open... but I had a short, scrambly time finding them in the dark and brambles. My sesame tofu flew open and about half of the rice spilled out, but that's ok because I usually give most of the rice to the dogs. Well... it was ok for me, I guess... but the dogs probably would have begged to differ. The loaf of bread didn't really break my fall at all; it just got squashed under my chest. It was my fist that did most of the squashing, actually; as I had been gripping the bag, and when I fell, my chest landed on my fist, which landed on the bread I'd been carrying, which squashed the heck out of it. It made a nice imprint of my fist, though. I was actually inspired by that to buy some Sculpee the next day, to try and sculpt something. I bought some, but I haven't sculpted anything yet.
So. Everything was salvageable, but my hand hurt like a mother for a couple of days after. And it still hurts, actually. Ow. And so does my back, come to think of it. Do those Doans backache pills really work? Why are they only for the back, anyway? Tylenol ain't just for the back. What is it about Doans? I've always wondered.
Anywho... let's see, what else? I've gone through a gazillion candles during the last month. I'm about to walk to Wal-Mart to buy some more, as a matter of fact, as soon as I'm finished with this blog post. The big thick short ones last the longest, but the tall thin ones are brighter, and cheaper. I bought two oil lanterns at the dollar store the other day, but when I light them, they sputter and go crazy, until they finally go out after about ten minutes - like they've just died after a prolonged heart attack. I'm fairly perturbed about it; having wasted the money on them... but I think I'll look for some of the regular lamps tonight. You know; the kind with the glass chimneys that don't have the handles. The kind that are stationary and aren't made out of tin. I'ma get one or two tonight. I won 50 bucks on a scratch off at work today, so I have some extra money. Not enough to make a dent in the bills situation, but enough to get an oil lamp and maybe get some fast friendly food for the fast that started today. Tortillas and bananas, and peanut butter and... hummus. And tomorrow some kind of frozen food by Amy's from the Drug Emporium. They always have that Amy's brand, which is awesome and good for fasting. And some sesame tofu tomorrow too, maybe, from Mr. Chopstix.
Anything else? Hmmm. I know there's a crapload of things I want to say, but I can't think of them now, and I don't blog so much anymore, so It's like... I have to think of everything all at once when I do decide to blog, and I can never remember everything I wanted to blog about. Oh well. I guess the only other thing I felt like observing that I can think of right this minute is how I feel really close to strangers sometimes, when I'm out walking at night with my book and flashlight and happen to pass them by, as they're sitting on their front porches or walking on the other side of the road. I'll think about how they are completely encapsulated in their own skulls, just like me, and how they're looking out on the world, all alone in their own heads, just like me, and how there are about 7 billion of us, all on this planet together, but all so alone, and it makes me feel less alone somehow; knowing that we're all in this together.
