The world goes on. The rain stops for a moment. The sun comes out and kisses the soil. The birds stop their chirping for a moment to listen to the silence, but there is no silence to be heard. We are a world full of people who claim we are struggling to grow better, to reach perfection. We look for it in gaudy jewels and expensive clothes. We seek after it in the bottoms of glasses and bottles of pills. We can't find it, and we certainly don't want anyone else to have it. We fight for pieces of paper that really mean nothing and draw blood (sometimes blood closely linked to our own) for the sake of our "dream".

And what of those who do not share the dream of power and possession? We grind them under our feet. We spit on them. We overlook them. We steal from them the few things they do want or have--their freedom, their words, their faith, and their reputations. Are we happy? Do we enjoy the misery we leave in our wake? Do we have any idea how selfish every single one of us is?

We have to send troops to keep people from looting cities where people have already lost almost all of their earthly possessions. We have to send troops who could be serving others, bringing solace and peace to defend ravaged cities from the ravages of greed. And some days I wonder why tears burst into my eyes for no reason, when this happens on some scale every day of our lives--every day, every moment. In the wake of hurricane Katrina, we are reminded again of how frail humanity has become. What we assume is strength is only our weakness. Perhaps, I am a zealot. Perhaps, I believe too much. Your opinion on this subject does not affect me, for I know, in truth, that it takes more strength and power to love, to serve, to look beyond the self and one's own desires than to steal or fight for that which was not ours to begin with.

Anyway, this was another segment of a very long Monday. I made all of the books near my desk disperse to places unknown. Then I played with some more lovely fiche. Everyone knows how I adore the fiche. They are thin, plastic, and full of information. Luckily, I have little else to report because I may still need to use Ziggy as a tissue, and she is resistant to such usage.

I want you like I never wanted anyone or anything
I miss the way we used to talk, we used to sing
We used to walk the world before I forgot you exist
Let my eyes close, let the world be clouded with mist
Let lies envelope me so wholly that only liars can find
Their way to my side, let them believe that I'm blind

I want you to open up again to me, let me know
Let the world slip away, let what we were grow
Into something beyond what they expected or desire
I want you to be with me again, set my world afire
Paint my daydreams in such vivid color, my nights
Will not be left behind, nothing is beyond my sights

You never know how much you take something for granted until you open up your eyes and really see. I've spent the last few days thinking far too much, and, luckily for you, keeping it all inside. Not that anyone asks. Do they even notice? Naw, but it's okay because it leaves me here with my riddles. Leaves me here wishing that I had more of me to give, but I already gave (not at the office). Anyway, back to sleep and the riddles it throws my way.

Ever keep calling a number, hoping to get someone only to find out that they never really answered the phone. It's a harsh reality to realize that someone has not been listening. Such is the way of the world sometimes.

Anyway, it was another intriguing weekend in my life. I spent time with the cats. I spent some time feeding my friends. I even dropped in on a wild party where we played kickball. I even succeeded in kicking the ball. All of that practice came in handy at last. And you just thought I was being cruel. *wink* I also won a free pizza which I donated to the cause of making my Mrs. happy. You have to keep the Mrs. happy or you quickly find yourself unhappy.

My Saturday was less exciting. So unexciting that all I really remember doing is eating pumpkin bread. It wasn't your average pumpkin bread, of course, but it makes excellent French toast. I also spent some time today helping to assemble some hygiene kits for some evacuees from Louisiana. We only managed to get 100 of them together today, but I am sure we will have other opportunities to help out. This encourages me to find some sleep just in case.

Work hasn't brought any excitement or random thoughts of violence. Well, the books may consider being stamped violent. They could also find the thought of labels to be violent. I did find a pile of barcodes that set off my rage against the wasting of money though. These were duplicate barcodes, so the records associated with them were dropped in and then deleted and we paid for this. Isn't that great? Yeah, I think they can afford to give me a raise now.

Then I finally got around to wrestling an old quilt of mine into submission. I am trying to patch a few memories in between making some new ones. Don't worry, Ziggy doesn't know what am talking about either. She is enjoying sitting on my quilt though. I think she is trying to claim it for her very own. Little does she know, it has been claimed by more cats than she could imagine. I think she has missed the same thing about me. Crazy cat ladies who start young like I did are loved by many wonderful fuzzballs before they reach the age where spinsterhood looks like a great occupation. Don't worry, boys, I haven't quite given up on you yet.

I did have another fascinating conversation this evening, That one led me to think that perhaps I should start a narcissist's union. The question here is whether or not it is narcissism if two of my personalities fall in love with each other. *grins wryly* Of course, none of my personalities is male, so that would lead to other questions and that is a scary thought. Of course, I am now being advised to have a wedding with no groom. I find the most intriguing conversations, don't I? Well, I leave that person with the same advice I am giving to all of you, "Sweet dreams of me."

You wonder what would happen sometimes if you ceased to exist. Most of us wonder this after having seen It's a Wonderful Life in the Christmas tradition. Some of us wonder it because we really would like nothing better than to turn our backs on all the foolishness that surrounds us every day. Trying to be patient with children who will never grow up and prove again and again that they think you're little more than a toy eventually breaks through even the strongest defenses. That is what they want, is it not--to break us?

But what they get when they think they are entering the sacred halls of the heart is often not what they expect. For any wise builder will not protect their most precious gems with only a single wall. When you breach that, it is the horrors that are left behind that come pouring out. They drip, they weep, and those who don't know laugh thinking it just another game. Serious games are afoot, however, in the hearts of divas. People think they own and control me. They think the diva must bow to them, take their demands, fill those empty moments, give their all to bring happiness to others. No one needs to listen. No one needs to try to understand. No one needs to pause a moment because the diva will bounce back.

The healer of hearts can only heal others because her own heart still lies broken. And if you helped to break it, what right do you have to believe your own heart will not be crushed in a vice? Someday, perhaps, they will see that epitaphs have already been written and pints of blood poured out in vain. Until then, they shall see nothing except what they choose to see.

No one really cares what is dancing on my mind unless it is their own flat heels pounding endlessly into my brain, beating me into submission. Kind of makes one wonder why I bother to keep posting here, doesn't it? Let's just say it amuses me for reasons beyond reckoning. It amuses me as much as people who don't think I see them "listening" over my shoulder, hoping they aren't losing me. Sorry, darlings, but none of us really had me to start with.

Last night ended on a "high" note at the bottom of High Street even. I had traveled to another lovely Hayride Meeting. We are planning some great treasures for you, my darlings, so be prepared and save up about $14 because you are going to want to go twice. Just trust me on this one, okay? After that, some friends and I had dinner which equated to a planning meeting where we mapped out our plans for the evening. Then on the way home, a cop pulled me over because I never got around to putting my new tag on the hobbitmobile. He then proceeded to ask me if I had been smoking pot. Apparently, my car smells funny. Various people have told me that smell is normal for a sexy beast with a carburetor, but I will annoy my random mechanics again about the fact that my car smells funny. I decided telling the cop that I resented such an implication was bad idea, but I am willing to state here that I do resent it. Just because this University closed a coke deal around the time I started this journal does not mean I do drugs. Thank you very much.

I did learn today that I softened up that particular policeman for a friend of mine. It's always good to know that I am not the only one remiss in putting my new tags on my car. Speaking of my car, nothing competes with me sitting on my car. I may have just parked in the right spot. After I got out of my car and began buffing my hood with my rear, I noted that a circle had formed around me. Nothing is sexier than a hobbit on an Omni apparently. We then preceded to devour anything that wasn't still moving or covered in grass. Then the sports began. It started with some tiffle ball, but I didn't feel that I had enough testosterone for that. I eventually relegated myself to the cheering section. We were cheering randomly, so I am pretty sure the team we were rooting for won. Is that a pillow?

Okay, in the tradition of the insanity that reigns supreme in my world, that title has nothing to do with my day at all. It was a misread title as read by me after plying myself with yet another cupcake in the delicious sugar haze of the afternoon. I may have to give up sugar for a while and let my poor pancreas catch up. Poor thing, it never gets a vacation. Back to the story at hand: Today!

So I woke up early. Actually, I got up a little later than I should have. Rodney and Ziggy heralded my movements about the house. Someday, Ziggy will figure out that attempting to rush me, particularly when you are underfoot, is counterproductive. So I fed them and deserted her in the interests of bringing microfiche to their knees.

Another of my coworkers left us today, so we had a going away party. I somehow ended up entertaining the group again, I even had people inquire about my dramatic readings but none were forthcoming. Some days, my diva personality slips out into the real world. I need to work on that. Bella as the center of attention as fine. Her alter-ego behind the keyboard should just be the center of the fiche. We had a good time and they pumped me full of sugar.

So I snuck out of work a bit early and went home to do some laundry. That was about all I accomplished before I raced off to Monday Mormon Moments. We did some exciting and motivating skits. I may never look at some people the same again, I liked the reference to Jezebel being Darth Vader's sister. I just wish I could remember who said it. I believe it was Tom. We made a brief visit to Burger King where I watched other people eating before sneaking away. Then it was home to cute cats, sweaty men, and sleep.

Ever feel like someone just ran over you with a car? Well, it could be because you were drunk on High Street and jumped out in front of them. Most likely, however, it is an emotional hit-n-run by someone who thinks they're too perfect to cause any harm. I advise you to ignore these people. They don't mean any harm, they just haven't seen flaws in their own perceptions of the world. I have noted that the people they are running over are usually better people to have around anyway. I have a particular weakness for the people who aren't busy trying to make me see their value. I don't have to polish a stone to see it glitter and brighten my world. I'm a bit rough myself and I have a lot more tumbling to do before I can justify feeling I am anyone's superior.

It may be a part of my nature or influenced by my current career path, but while I find myself lacking, I find myself able to easily find those who can fill the void in me. If I need an artist, I have a few I feel confident in asking to make me a pretty picture. It depends, of course, on what I am looking for. I can find someone to fix my computer if I break it. I can find someone to sing me a beautiful song. I can find someone sweet to make me sweets. I haven't found someone with strength to be Mr. Bella, but that's okay because I have the feeling he will find me.

My true concern for the day is irony. I got a free lunch today. That isn't entirely ironic since everyone who participated in a health program at my work place got one. We got lunch from Heavenly Ham. I can feel how jealous you suddenly are. You are picturing a large pig with a halo playing a harp. My sandwich was actually turkey. Not that I have a problem with turkey. I just find it amusing that we got poultry from a place that specializes in ham. Of course, I just find life generally amusing these days. It could be that I have not come down yet from my sugar rush from yesterday.

"I like my cars the way men like my skirts (or maybe just the way my men like me), short and sexy." That is my quote for the day about myself, of course. I was pondering those tiny cars that beg me to lick them in parking lots. Of course, the geek squad Beetle didn't impress me much, but those cars were only cool when being driven by Don Knotts. Yes, Don Knotts. You know who he is. He's the coolest.

The day's festivities started with...nope, not fiche...banned books plotting. Every year around this time, I build up my excitement for discussing banned or challenged books. As everyone may have realized by now, I do believe we all have the right to choose what we read. It is not my right or responsibility to dictate what others can read. It is just my hope that they will choose to read things that are enlightening. Who makes that decision? The individual, of course. People have tried to ban the Bible. Do I need to say more.

I moved from that to fiche. Okay, so the fiche are my life. Well, a part of my life until I catalog them all and put them to rest. I aspire to finish them someday though there is no promise of that. It seems like more fiche come slipping out of the cracks at every turn. If they weren't so thin and easy to hide, I might be tempted to think it was a conspiracy by my boss to keep me happy. I realize the candy jar is just that, but I don't mind.

I also got to spend some quality time with the cats this evening. By quality, I mean that they watched me slave like the little monarchs they think they are. I scrubbed some dishes, made some chicken, gave them a little milk, and even worked on my first costume of the season. I say my first because we all know I enjoy making costumes far too much. Not as much as I enjoy wearing them though. I believe I wore at least 10 costumes during the last season (without once wearing my fangs). We can only hope my cheery mood continues and I top that this year, right? Of course, sometimes I think every day is a costume day in my world.

I won't go there. I need to keep such commentary to myself or I'll turn into a grouch. No, I am not dressing up in a fuzzy green suit and hopping into a trash can. I enjoy my Sesame Street as much as any adult who grew up in the 80s before Bert and Ernie were officially declared gay and the cookie monster went to the Mrs. Fields academy for cookie addiction therapy, but I will not be assuming the role of Oscar. In this town, that is just begging to be set on fire. Kind of like a couch on Grant Avenue. You know it's coming. Park on a completely different street. Just trust me on this. And back to the drawing board.

You can't tell the people that you love that you love them because the chance always exists that they won't know how to love you. You can't tell the people that love you that they're going too far because they'll claim they can never go too far when they love. You can't confess that you want to be alone for a moment because they'll assume it's a ploy. You can't confess to the pages of any journal because no one that ever reads it will ever see it like you do. They try too hard to twist it to mean something to them when they have no idea what you are really referring to.

And under all of this words was such a wonderful stake conference. Bizarre, isn't it?

I am not a child who needs sheltered. I am not a fool with the wool pulled down about my eyes so low that it looks like I have a fro growing in reverse. I am tired, very tired of being told how wrong I am. I am tired of people trying to mother me who are too selfish to even notice they're hurting people. Obviously, I don't care how much I get hurt since I've been taking it for years, but when you toss more people into the mix and blame them. Well, then I have a problem. We have a very serious problem.

I am sick of being attacked by people I have no quarrel with. I am tired of them using timeless excuses such as saying they were defending me. I am tired of being told they knew I would understand. Don't say it if you don't mean it. I understand more than you think I do. In fact, I understand more that you do. I am tired of people telling me how they did things for me when they did them for themselves. I could echo old complaints made about how I don't even ask how someone else is doing before I ramble to them about my problems. I'll repeat it again--YOU ARE NOT ME. If you are not capable of filling out my clothes, you certainly aren't capable of telling anyone what I think or feel. The one thing I tell most people is to send people who want to know to me with their questions. And if I have told you more than three times (and you have conveniently forgotten), consider yourself out of the cookie of the month club. SO quit trying to fix my life, run my life, and tell other people how to react to me.

On to other topics of conversation. Sore throats are fascinating. You get one and it persists. You slather it down with the nasty juices of a throat lozenge and it is appeased for a time. Then it comes back as annoying as ever. The only solution is to give it time to heal. And it can only do that if you purge the virus. Basically, I don't have a lot on my mind besides chloraseptic spray, throat lozenges and unnecessary throat pain. Soon, however, more interesting things could be on the horizon like fall leaves and...well, that's for me to know. An IMPress has to have her secrets. *wink*

It's fascinating how sickness spreads through my body. Yesterday, I had your average,run-of-the-mill sore throat. As I fell asleep, my little buddies decided to migrate. I woke up numerous times during the night to find that my ears and nose had joined the fun. So I have spent most of the day trying not to imitate the cartoon characters who take a long strip of cloth, towel, or whatnot and stick it in one ear and out the other since the medicine I took made my ears stop hurting but they now itch like no one's business. Isn't that exciting?

Part Two: Focus on the Positive

After an eventful nap, which ended in the average way of naps with a cat gnawing on my hair while another cat screams and the other one rolls over and tries to stick his paws in inappropriate places, I am now awake. I don't feel like sleeping yet I do, but I know I'll just stare at the ceiling, so I keep checking my e-mail (for what I'm not sure--maybe spam). Anyway, reading the news every time I log out doesn't do much for me. The main news stories are all about how we hurt each other. Sometimes they are about how we help people, but only specific people. It's hard living in a world such as this, isn't it?

On the positive side, however, good people are still out there. They are fighting and clawing to keep their heads above water, but they are there. They do the little things that mean so much like bother to understand what they read instead of just reading three words and saying, "Oh, now I know it all." They send you a message they aren't sure you'll get just to let you know they care. They call you back after you have given up on talking to them and surprise you with an invite to a karaoke bar. They listen to you whine though you know they have worse problems, and probably burst into tears when you finally ask how they are because for a second they thought again that you didn't care for anything but yourself. They love you through it all. They don't stab you in the back. They let you tell your own stories and make your own confessions. They don't drop names and secrets in front of people you'd rather not know or think they know these things. They don't tell you how terribly wrong you are when they don't even know the whole story. They trust you inherently and have never betrayed your trust or given other people cause to feel you betrayed them. Okay, so these are just some examples of what my true friends have done for me (unfortunately, compared to "friends" who have screwed me over time and again and refuse to notice it).

To the Aravans, Rogue Dragons, and Lovely Ladies of my world, I give my love. The rest of you only have my pity at this point. My pity because you managed to kill any love I had for you. My pity because I really can't bear to be around people who hurt me and hurt others and then blame all their woes on us. My pity because when I can't love you anymore, you have reached a new low. Of course, back to the positive, somewhere out there is a pillow with my name on it.

In a land far from Oz and very down to earth, libertines and laborers gathered together in the small town of Organvale. They lived. They loved. They created mythical creatures to liven up their duller hours. Among the creatures they created was the flamauto and the couchofire. They loved their mythical pets though they had short life spans, lasting only part of a night and leaving charred remains and the horrible stench of their demise upon the city for the following day.

Luckily, the citizens of Organvale rarely arose before noon and those who did were wise enough to breath shallowly until the wind had blown away most of the odor. However, they still had to remember to look down in order to avoid stepping in droppings or stumbling across the inert bodies of those who had fallen asleep in the streets.

In it's youth, Organvale's leaders decided the growing town should house a finishing school for the youth of the nation. Over time, kings and queens of other kingdoms decided to send their princes and princesses there as well. Every young prince and princess hoped to attain that fabled piece of paper that would give their life meaning and assure a future. Of course, most of them did not realize that this would not guarantee them well and happiness. Most of them were also not exemplary examples of princes and princesses, displaying bad habits and rude behavior as well as a lack of desire to take the blame for their own indiscretions.

Do I need to go on or does parents' weekend speak for itself?

Amazing how many echoes of the past can come to you when you let your defenses down. Most of my echoes come chasing me in my dreams. Others chase me through other avenues and remind me of the difference between giving someone the chance to be your friend and assuming that they'd leap at the chance, the difference between truly loving someone and wanting to love them because you feel love is a race that you have to win, and walking into the wrong arms only to realize they won't let you go when their dance is over.

So, I got to work on the banned books display. I do this every year. It is another of my traditions that I just can't resist. September brings time with cutouts of books and catchy slogans to get people to realize we are meant to make our own choices. After all, it has to get boring following in someone else's footsteps and trying to become them or be appreciated by them. I learned a long time ago not to care how people view me. I just never learned how to hurt people without noticing. I get the impression the secret is in being selfish and assuming the world owes me something. That doesn't quite work for me.

I should point out though that my mind is kind of one directional right now. What direction is that? Well, that's not really your concern. I just recommend that you not get in my way. My life is best lived by me, and I am tired of fools trying to live it for me. Just a note: I have the pieces of paper I need; if I need advice, I know how to ask for it; I don't need my hand held while or pee or someone to wipe my bottom; and my decisions for a while are going to be made solely for me, so don't even think about laying down a guilt trip (my passport to guilt expired and I am not renewing). Now, I am off to live my life: one scripture, one prayer, and one dream at a time.

So I can only say so much about my love and adoration for the natural condition. This morning a complaint was lodged about my journal entries and dreary mornings. Yes, that was a comment about you. *giggles to self merrily* I realize that some of my commentary is hard to handle while the rain pours down, but since the weather has changed from rain to sun quite a few times today, it may have helped to wait. In the meantime, I feel like regaling my readers with some thoughts on mud.

One of you is cringing, but this is not about MUD, it is about mud, that lovely combination of water and dirt that squishes between your toes leaving a slimy residue. I was hoping to get to squish through some mud, but despite the random rain showers, I did not have that joy this evening. I did get the tantalizing feel of being naughty from trudging through my neighbor's lawn in the sunshine though. Of course, I don't think they really mind, but some of us pick a minor thrill over a big one that really will get us in trouble.

Then I practiced my breaking and entering. My friend left her door unlocked since she was expecting me. So while she was changing her shirt because she loves me and wanted to impress me, I did the orangu-tango with Bubba the gorilla. Bubba is quite the dance partner, so I may be inviting him to dance with me again sometime. Every hobbit needs a good dance partner even if he is furry and has an unhealthy addiction to bananas.

Well, the month is winding down and so is my illness, I hope. I never was good at trying to slow down long enough for my body to recuperate. Not that it feels like my body is recuperating. I am still trying to hack up my lungs. If I succeed, I am donating my lungs to the Haunted Hayride. BLATANT ADVERTISING: The Haunted Hayride will be in Westover Park the second and third weeks in October. I have been working on my costume, and you know that alone will be worth it. Now, here is where it is different from every other year. The fourth and final week will find us in a new location. We will be at a new location, doing am indoor show. This location is out past Star City (much further up the road from Best Buy and Target). Just don't accidentally turn in the direction of Fairmont.

Anyway, not much else going on besides planning to entertain the world. Think I'll live that long? I hope so because my cats need me. Besides, I had another strange dream last night that I need to resolve some issues with. You have to love those. Well, maybe it's just me. More to come.

In the old days, I remember being quiet and docile. I remember silently sitting in the corner and waiting for the world to come to me. I remember sighing to myself and wishing I had more compulsion to open my mouth and speak and save us a lot of time and effort. I have learned that it doesn't work that way for me. Every single person I meet seems to get what they want from my words, and since they're too busy planning their potential future happiness (on threads and a title that isn't even theirs to wield), they rarely here more than half of what I said. Or perhaps what makes so much sense to me is really all just nonsense I made up by studying something so much because it matters to me (for what reason I don't know). So another goal for the year is to go back to saying nothing and still feeling my heart crumble because the world around me makes no sense.

I did get to see an illegal pizza deal tonight. On my way home, I passed by a pizza delivery guy meeting up with someone in a deserted parking lot. The first thing that comes to mind, of course, is an illegal drug deal. Well, not to mind. I just giggled and remembered how the pizza places in my hometown would only deliver to a certain point (the post office of the suburbs), so if you lived past that point, you could meet them there and trade them money for your pizza. My friend lived right next door and they would not drive the extra three feet to her driveway. She had to walk over and pick up the pizza. More proof that the world is a truly ridiculous place, right?

So I spent most of the afternoon reading the church magazine and baking. I should spend more of my afternoons doing that and less of them trying to keep people happy. I am really wore out from keeping people happy, trying to do everything that is expected of me, and cleaning up the messes left by other people trying to explain me to the world. You'd be surprised how many experts there are on someone that NO ONE and I mean ABSOLUTELY NO ONE understands (or really cares to understand as long as she listens to them, loves them, reminds them they are loved, does what they ask of her, and doesn't call them out for doing exactly what they get so mad at other people for doing).

I'm glad I'm losing. *slam* *click* *click* *click*

So I woke up this morning despite my best subconscious ploys to keep myself safely nestled into bed. I turned my alarm clock off because in the dream I was having the clock was set "double fast" anyway, so it would still wake me up. I am not really sure what that means, but I also know I am not alone in incorporating the sound of my alarm clock into my dreams. This is why I think alarm clocks should have a variety of sounds that are picked at random to bring you jumping out of your sleep to a refreshing new world. Now with some of my choices, my subconscious might still thwart me, but the dreams will definitely be interesting.

TOP TEN SOUNDS MY ALARM SHOULD MAKE TO WAKE ME UP

10. Truck backing up (its current flavor)
9. Bloodcurdling scream (oh yes, yes, yes, bring on October)
8. Crinkling of a plastic bag (unless you have my cats, I am not sure you can imagine how that can wake me up)
7. Cats having a wild fight (I am talking more than hissing, baby)
6. Baby gurgling (wouldn't that be a sweet way to wake up)
5. Train whistle (bring on the Monkees' song in my head)
4. A man's voice (now that would scare me awake)
3. The Midnight Margarita's Song (Aravan knows what I'm talking about)
2. "Time to Make the Donuts" (now that would be classic and would definitely get my attention)
1. A phone ringing (of course, then I would be trying to answer my phone)

I should take a moment to assuage all the fears of frequent library patrons. You may see some librarians roaming breathlessly around, peering at their hips from time to time. They are not being pursued by rabid books. They have not gone mad from staring at barcodes. They are just participating in the yearly joy of pedometer madness. Yes, it is that time of year again. It is the time of the year when I pace aimlessly around the room before sneaking under the covers and going to sleep, so I can get that one last step. Okay, so I just like to pace. Sue me?

I got to spend an enjoyable lunch with one of my favorite people. The Mrs. and I got to learn more about the Father and the Son (maybe I am a zealot, but my heart is in the right place). She enjoyed some chimichangas while I partook of another random treat from my freezer. You never know what a hobbit has tucked away for her eating enjoyment. I found some vegetable pasta that was actually more tasty than it would sound. I just wish I had used a little less butter in the sauce. That's another story. The rest of the day has been rather dull except for watching all of the cats get hopped up on catnip. Yay!

Just before Halloween begins to come to life, we feel the tinge of autumn on the air. It is the time when the chick in the cloak comes closer to the surface and the whipping girl puts away her shackles, perhaps, for the last time. I may have just be all excited about the fact that I am slowly conquering the ongoing battle to finish my first costume of the season, but it does feel like fun is in store for everybody's favorite diva.

I got to spend an hour at the Banned Book booth in the Lair today. Only eight people crossed our path and decided to stop and talk. One of the ones who didn't also work in the library announced that, "I love the library. I'm in there all the time." I like to think she was sincere, but she was running by with a tootsie roll. I'd confess love for the library for a tootsie roll. Oh wait. I guess I am not a good comparison for this one.

The major accomplishment of the day was discovering how some of today's poetry is being written. I grabbed random books from the shelf, changed the formatting and added some emphasis. In fact, a couple of co-workers joined me. We came up with some phenomenal pieces. My favorites were a description of a piece of art and the poem about quarks. You have to admit that any writing about quarks is awesome. This journal entry will a Pulitzer or a Nobel prize for simply having that one word.

I also had more fun at the Banned Books Display. Two people came over to talk to us. I am not counting the strange little man with the camera. I think he scared away all our victims and potential bookmark receivers. Uh-oh, I know you'll all be there tomorrow trying to scavenge one of our sexy bookmarks. Maybe they are just sexy because they have spent so much time with me lately. You know how those kinds of things rub off.

Among other news, my pedometer and I are entertaining the cats. I think they are secretly fascinated by that thing on my hip that I keep glaring at and addressing with comments such as, "oh please, I walked just as much as Monday, what did you do with my other 1000 steps?". That or they like the fact that it has a string and secretly want to bat it around. Hmmm, maybe I should let them. It would definitely increase my number of steps. Okay, it's past my cat time. See ya later

We're in the business of banning books, but only books you have written. It was another wonderful day at our booth. A guy even offered us money to support the freedom of books to be read. Books all over the world thought that was sweet, and my boss was so impressed that he can't stop talking about it. I thought it was a nice touch that both my boss and I chose to wear blue button down shirts today. It made it look almost like we coordinated our efforts. And that is all we have for today. Keep smiling.

So I got a special prize early this morning. Around 8am, some workers began drilling and banging around at the back of the building. If I had any worries about falling asleep at my desk, they were quickly washed away by the lovely sounds of construction. I peeked out the window to observe that one of the gift givers had decided to rebel and wear his shirt inside out. It was not until the afternoon that I discovered that they were putting a canopy over the back door. I wish they would put one over my windows, so the sun can't blind me in the morning, but the Mary Poppins thing with the umbrella (or should I say parasol) has been working for me.

The rest of the morning was rather dull except for finding another fantastic edition of Madame Bovary that was trying to sneak into the collection. That is one book that can not sneak past me. So I checked out my favorite section and found the following amusing and humorous quote:

"Why? What ceremony?"
Then, in a faltering frightened voice: "No! No, do you understand? I want to keep her."
(translated by Margaret Mauldon)

After cramming some more names into my eyeballs (and promptly back out my ears), I decided it was time for lunch. Okay, so I usually decide it is time for lunch around that time of day. I got to see the Mrs. In fact, we completed a crossword puzzle from the Daily Anathema together. Two great minds can bring even the coolest crossword to its knees. So we have another couples accomplishment under our belts and have yet to need couple's counseling. Over a year and still going strong. Of course, a handsome man is going to come along and steal her heart, but that will give me more cause to celebrate. Then I will have to find a new crossword puzzling partner, so sharpen your pencils and remain ready.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful. I shifted some of the garbage I like to call "potential crafts" around in the drawers at work. I never know when I may need those materials for a work-related arts and crafts project. We are nothing in the SPU if not resourceful. Then I got to kidnap a book and run away home. My costume for the outdoor show is bordering on finished. I have to finish two sections which I am hoping will be simple and untraumatic and then I shall unleash my fright upon an unsuspecting audience. Can't you just feel the anticipation?

What else? What else? Ah, I also got to play some games with some friends tonight. It may be the last time we can convene until November, so you see, I just had to skip bowling. Besides, how often do you see hobbit divas in bowling shoes? Come on, that is like twice the affront to who I am. I have now experienced RoboRally. i still maintain that me and my fuzzy brain should have lost (but we won). We also played some Rook (yeah, that didn't clear the fuzz from my brain either), and rounded it off with an exciting game of Spades. Llaneza and I managed to pull a win out of the ether. Seriously, it was another fluke that we won. We were so close to losing a couple of times, but managed to just barely pull ahead. All this winning may go to my head. I'm going to have to ask my cat to humble me (by showing me how cute he is when he rolls over on his back.)