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Wednesday, August 11, 2004


"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know." -fleetwood mac, 'dreams'
Almost typed "drams" as the song title ...

Uh … we talked to “Annie” last night. It was nice. When we talk, we talk books and anime, debating J.K. Rowling, Tamora Pierce, Dan Brown, Rumiko Takahashi, and Yuu Watase’s plans for characters and stuff, so the time zone difference is less apparent. We talked for 1:12, until we got sent inside cuz the bugs were eating us, there was an “aminal” in the yard, there were bats out, it was really dark, and we had work in the morning. When we’re on the phone, talking about the symbols in Harry Potter (which we hate, she loves) and Inuyasha (we both read translations and are dying to get to the end), it doesn’t feel like we haven’t seen each other since that weekend in July.

Ihhhhhhhh (in a really whiny, nasaly moan noise). We are so tired and headachy and crud. Farm help looks like a cute, quaint job, but the quaintness (especially when you live next door, are related to the owners, and know there is nothing quaint – it’s all nitty gritty work) is what does you in. They all think you’re a simpleton and crud. And none of them know that you say, “I have three ears of corn,” or “I have three ears.” They all say “I have three corns.” And really, we do not want to know how many corns these people have. Usually by now, at least one person has said “ears.” No such luck this year.

We need to go help our splitting headache perish now.

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