glorious, glorious

I have a typewriter under my bed. It is dusty, and blue, and probably a breeding ground for spiders of all shapes and sizes (tho all feared with equal severity). It does not breed creativity, as previously imagined. As previously imagined when I lugged it down King Street, 30-dollars poorer and pregnant, no less!
Countless nights, clicking out abstract poetry and tinkering with ink tapes, thinking about time-lines... my pregnancy was a creative upheaval. Hopefully, this means I've birthed the next John Lennon. (I'll settle for Heath Ledger) Where did that Lillian go?
No time or free space for projects, she rationalizes. Babies need lots of attention; the rest of the time is for rest or productivity.
But there is always time. I literally will fucking kill myself if I have to spend the rest of my life being domestic. Being selfish is a luxury.
I'm tired and need. more. time. But it's not all terrible; I am being totally melodramatic.
I have had time to knit baby pants and write in my journal enough to have nearly calmed my brimming soul. I have had plenty of time to think, just not enough time to create!
Idle hands do the devils work, you know.

take me to the movies, 'cause I like to sit in the dark

Drove to Harris Teeter tonight, even though slightly buzzed and kind of spacey; couldn't stop humming "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service.

Sometimes I feel like all I ever write about anymore is how much I hate my job, or how much I love my son. Trust me, both of these feelings are heartfelt, but I can't go on like this. Something needs to happen. I need to join a club, or go on a trip, or learn a new hobby, or something, or anything.
My life is dull.
I aim to change that.

In other news, there is a Jet Li movie playing in the other room; it would be a shame to waste it.

will the wind ever remember?

Weather-wise, it is a beautiful day. But there is a dark cloud hovering over my happiness; its name is Time Management.
I spent much of my day wandering Walmart (not as thrilling as it sounds), and the other being disapproved of by other moms at the park, but here is how I would have liked to spend it: getting a shamrock tattoo for free at the local parlor.
For. Free.
If there were ever any two words to catch my attention, they would be "free tattoos."
But it seems that, in my hatred for making plans, I have foiled myself. Luke is going on an adventure with friends, my mother is going to be here in less than an hour to babysit Greyson, and I hardly have enough time to make it into town for a tattoo (even one as small as a shamrock).
Happy fucking Saint Patrick's Day.

her smile is contagious; i was born to love her.

It has been quite a while since I've posted... I can't even remember exactly what I wrote. But, sitting in my kitchen (the only place in the house I get wifi signal) on an exercise ball and reading my good friend Caroline Monday's blog, I am overwhelmed with the desire to rekindle mine.
It is my only real writing conduit, besides my personal journal, and I am now going to work on strict schedule of updates. Weekly. Hell, daily! I am a grown woman!
By god, I'll do it!
Besides not updating my blog, I've been busy trying to plan my son's first birthday party, keeping some semblance of a social life, and working at a job that insults my intelligence.
As far as social lives go, mine is suitable. Close, comfortable visits with friends and the occasional foray into dinner parties has kept my inner hostess satisfied, but the rare amount of contact doesn't overload my wallflower. The only complaint is that the winter months has limited these visits mostly to indoor adventures (see: DVDs of Planet Earth, drugs), and I am eager to leave my un-vacuumed apartment and lie in grass for a change.
Greyson is going to be one year old in April. Everyday he looks more and more like a child and less like a wiggly lump of flesh and drool; I look forward to taking birthday pictures and feeling like a mommy.
Knitting and crafts are becoming a part of my life again as Greyson becomes more independent. Without a squirming baby to entertain, I have had time to make a birthday banner, knit a hat, and re-start a yoga mat bag 4 times. Granted, most of these things have been accomplished at work, with business slow and not picking up until the summer.
Regal Cinemas hasn't changed much, the only difference is I have time for crossword puzzles.
I should try to get a job at a funeral home; then I'd have plenty of time for crossword puzzles.