1AM & The Night Owl Is Awake

It is going to be very hard to go back to work on Monday. It always is after a few days off as I revert right back into my night owl habits. Hard won, I suppose.

So I am just going to go with it. I spent a great deal of time today zoning out on the computer, or Facebook to be more exact. Why is that website so addictive?

I am just mellow tonight. Watching an Indigo Girls video and hanging out.

I've spent much time pondering how we are going to make it until 1.20.09.

When I wrote this morning about wanting a wife for Christmas, I was half serious.

The thing is, I am feeling restless again, I'm almost missing the desert, but not quite. I am missing the sea terribly. I feel like I could sit on a misty cold beach for hours right now, and just think. I think too much, I know. I spend too much time worrying about politics. I spend too much time worrying that our national park system will be trashed before we can save it.

It's getting colder here. We haven't gotten down below 12 degrees yet, but it's coming. Typically December and January are the coldest months of the year, where getting down to -20 to -30 degrees are not unusual at all. We really haven't even had our first snow yet.

Today, again, I spent a great deal of time writing to my congressmen about so many different issues I feel strongly about. I one letter, I even told them that a pro-choice vote was the deal breaker for me. Hubby mocked me about this, I'm not sure why.

I am so in Gemini mode tonight, and for that I'm sorry. You probably will not be able to make sense of where my mind is going, but I am doing what I do when this happens, just closing my eyes and typing. I've done this my whole life.

I read a blog tonight written by someone I went to Jr. High with. He is now an English professor at the Community College I attended way back when. I am not really thinking of him too much, but of my time spent in that place. It was pretty memorable for me.

I had an English professor there, that changed my life in a lot of ways, and I can't remember his name now, I know it's been 20 years, but you would think that I would be able to remember his name. I remember how hard he was on me with my writing. He would give red-line everything I gave him, tell me the "sentence structure" was all wrong, he taught me how to write. I hated that class, until I transferred to University and realized how much he taught me, and how much I needed what he taught me.

Then there was my Pottery Professor. I loved that class. I spent hours in that class. The one thing that stands out in my mind from him, is that he would tell us over and over, "your first 1000 pots, are garbage, they need to go in the trash", I suppose trying to make the point that we were just learning. I took it all in. I went on to spend 4 more years in pottery classes at University.

I took refuge then in the damp smell of wet clay and the noisy humm of potters wheels turning round and round. There is a certain smell that a pottery studio has, that is unlike anything else, it's wet clay, and burning smoke from firing pots. I spent so much time doing hand building and low fire glazing. I miss it so, and I know one day I will get back to it. It's not practical right now for so many reasons, but it's on my "to-do" list.

Oh well, I am going to try to go to bed and get some sleep, if not, I'll catch you on the flip side.

Peace,

OC