(no subject)

I'm in love.......

with this new drink. Happy Planet crangerine. Ingredients: herbal tea (water, organic roolbos, sencha green tea, organic yerba mate, lemon balm raspberry leaf) tangerine and cranberry juices, organic agave cactus nectar, organic lemon juice, potssium citrate, vitamin c, beta carotene, iron, thiamine, folic acid

seriously yummy. Some of them expired today so I drank one at work. Damn, it was good. I took all 4 of them home.

Somehow some seriously annoying music has ended up in my mix of mp3's.. I need to go through and do some deleting.



My shoulder is seriously messed up. I am hurting pretty bad. It's aching from my elbow up to just above my ear. Pulsating pain. I need to pull out the massive massager I got after my mom bought them for all my brother in laws (and brother). After she bought one for her and my dad.. my dad announced to us "want to see our new vibrator?" Oh man. Almost died. Then at dinner the other night.. we had a good laugh about it again. Anyways, will try to do some damage control till I can get in for massage and chiro appointments. I'm not really looking forward to work tomorrow for this reason.

Laughing with parents and siblings about vibrators = slightly uncomfortably amusing..
Pain in neck and shoulder = making me want to stab something
Talking with Cintia = makes me want to just run to Brazil and hug her cause I adore her so much
Kate Bush's voice = annoying me right now
Elliot Smith = lovely. Why do the lovely die?
Happy Planet crangerine = like making out with juice
Making out = all good.

(no subject)

i am a dot, in your paragraph; no,
in your novel, a lengthy lyric that sings on
without me. recite again, please, the
chapter of your confusion, of
the watery waves in your drowned hair in
a midnight of new moon. if only i might
hear the crash and lull of the rhythms
of your voice. i am
an erratic seagull without your bottled notes, bobbing
in a cadence and blown distant by rising
winds while struggling to fly
towards your gentle crests and troughs.
if you would storytell again, i would
wait at bedtime ... but the walls are as
silent as your sunken treasures.

so, i will sing quietly my own story:

seagulls do not cry, being
made of water.



Jennifer Crystal Fang-Chien