I like books.


I live in a small town and enjoy writing about the inhabitants. I spend most of my time perusing through used book stores looking for that one great book that I don't have; consequently, I have rooms filled with books. I am a book addict.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

What the fuck, I'm eating potato soup

It’s here, no they’re here. Yep, saw them, ran into them, they ran into me, saw them on the street, at the school, and even, yes, the food court at the mall. Man who dresses these kids and how old are they? So, having said that, no further explanation needed, right? Anyway, bought my books, love buying books, no matter what, and don’t care if they are text books, love it. Mine, over 350 bucks and almost all are used. No biggey, that’s my new thing, no biggey. If I say it enough, I might believe it; plus I’m getting manic, the cycle must go on. My mom used to believe that babies were marked while still fetuses, hell even embryos and she swore that when she was just pregnant with me ( that meaning only a few months or weeks), a wolf chased her, which I doubt, probably a collie, but then I read about Lyacon, and maybe she was right, maybe my bi polar is really a mark, you know, the metamorphosis from depressed to normal to manic and my all time favorite super mania. Yep, that’s what I cycle when I cycle and it ain’t fun, I ain’t having no kind of fun.

So back to my point. Here on the hill, well it’s like going to New York to some of these folks in rural Arkansas, no shit. So, they bring their funky kids to the hill for college and the entire fucking family tags, yep, cousins, siblings, grandmas’, and everyone in between, and they get their little freshmen all settled, yep, settled, that’s what it’s called here in Arkansas, moving is settled, and then they all go to the mall because everyone fucking knows that J.C.Penny’s at this mall is so much better than the one in the Fort, or down in the swamps; or even Wal-Mart, so much nicer stuff they have on their shelves here on the hill so let’s go disturb the town’s folks who have to shop on Saturday and let’s walk around looking at the bright lights, let’s allow our children to go nuts and run up and down the escalators almost knocking down the locals until one of the locals fear that one of the children might actually fall and get hurt, lose fingers, and she (that be me) says in a mean tone, stop that running before you fall and lose your fingers on those stairs that move. So I ruin their fun. Am I bitter? Nah. I will wait, things settle down, and soon, those little freshmen will acclimate, they will assimilate, they will be one with their new home.


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