Favorite "Spirit" Quotes

"I'm gonna kill you all kinds of dead."

"Dental. And Nazis. Great."

"The cat was reason enough."

"And this one's for Muffin!"

"Somebody find me a tie! I don't care what kind, but by God, it had better be red!"



Damn, I wish I could remember more.

For Wren

I knew that she'd be trouble from the start. All dames are. Still, I couldn't help but let her in. She was the kinda dame that even a blind deaf guy with a two-bit sense of smell would notice the moment she walked in a room. She had legs that wouldn't quit, and a mouth on her that outran those legs. I always said a dame didn't need to talk, but I got a perverse pleasure outta listenin' to her devastate every lowlife barfly who got the notion she'd give him the time of day.

And I'm as low as they come. Still don't know why she didn't turn that acid tongue on the likes of me and put me in my place. It woulda been short work. But I was a private dick, and I had somethin' she wanted: a way out.

Like every beautiful woman in this town she had a past as dark as the bottom of the East River. Lookin' into her eyes sometimes was like starin' down the barrel of a gun. There was pain there, and danger: two things that seem to attract me like nothin' else. She'd been hurt real bad, though she didn't talk about it much. It made me want to get my hands around the throat of the man who'd done it and squeeze until the light left his eyes. Even though I knew this dame was strong enough to do it herself if she got the chance.

But it wasn't a man that'd done it. Well, not just a man, and not in the way I thought. They were a small family out of Saint Louis. New Money. Thought themselves grand because they'd done better than their parents. He was a lawyer: the kind so slimy no cell could hold him. The kind who could get the lowest scum off the hook without batting an eye.

She was a lazy housewife of the worst kind. Not enough brains to fill a shot glass. Spent all his money without wonderin' where it came from. That is, until the divorce. Messy business. The guy had an affair with some dancer at the kind of club a lawyer ought not to be seen at. Ended up making her his new wife. From what I gather, the dancer's got more decency than the housewife and the lawyer put together. But that ain't sayin' much.

So these people, if you can call 'em that. They took this dame in when she was just a kid with nobody and no place to go. She was an orphan and some kinda blood kin to the lazy broad. They spend half a decade makin' her feel like she's nobody. So now they figure she owes them a debt so big she can never repay it.

They want to see her, she says. And soon. Big family Christmas and all that. I try to remember the last time I celebrated Christmas by doing something besides spending some quality time in the dark with a scotch old enough to be my father. She's afraid that if she goes, she's done for. They got plans for her. They got a way of breakin' down this pillar of a woman and ruinin' her. I can't let that happen.

I tell her she don't belong to anyone. I don't got any family and I don't need any. But I wouldn't say no to comin' home to the sweet sight of that dame sittin' in my favorite chair while the smoke from her cigarette drifts up to stain the ceiling of my sorry excuse for an apartment. This dame makes me want to be somebody, and somethin' in me doesn't wanna let that go.

But it ain't my choice. And the pain and danger in the barrels of those eyes draws her toward that morning flight. And I know in my gut as I watch her step onto that plane without a backward glance that I'll never see her again. I don't know if anyone could help her, but it wasn't me. I'm already forgettin' the shade of her lipstick and the challenge in her eyes as I swear I'll never let myself love a dame again.

Making the Best of It

Initially I had a full day planned for tomorrow: I would go to Seattle and meet with one of my former professors for lunch and finally discuss what she thought of my thesis. Then I would meet up with my mother and see a Christmas play. Afterwards we would have dinner and then I would drive home and pack.

However, a huge winter storm warning is in effect for Western Washington, and my parents were concerned that if I went up to Seattle tomorrow, I might not be able to make it back to Olympia to pack and get back out to the airport on Sunday. My options were to either 1) Go on with my Seattle plans but pack up all my things for Hawaii and say goodbye to Trevor on Saturday. I would sleep in Seattle and go to the airport from there. Or, I could 2) Cancel all my plans for Saturday and say home packing and spending time with Trevor, then try to make it up to the airport early on Sunday.

I have opted for option 2 because it's less stressful, I can reschedule with my professor, and my mother and I agreed that one should not die for a play, unless one's name is Abraham Lincoln. And I'm glad I did. Now my laundry is done and I can look forward to a day of watching the storm, doing chores, packing, and hanging out with Trevor.

Trev and I have instituted our own holiday. It's called TMsmas (pronounced tee-emms-mas), and it is a three-day event. The first two days of the event are the two days before I leave for Hawaii. The third day is the day I return from Hawaii. So today was the first day of TMsmas. Trevor and I exchanged the first of three TMsmas gifts. I got him a green lip ring that he's in raptures over, and he got me Mama Mia! on Blu-Ray, bashfully confessing that it wasn't a completely altruistic gift, because he liked the movie too.

And so we got to spend our evening watching Mama Mia! and marveling at the wonderful combination of the Blue-Ray menu system and the Playstation 3 controller. It was like magic. And now we both have ABBA songs stuck in our heads. Tomorrow we will exchange presents again for day two of TMsmas, and then we'll each have one to look forward to after New Years.

Let it snow, I say! But also let it let up enough so that we can get to SeaTac by 3:30 on Sunday. I don't want to miss my Christmas flight again, and I'm really looking forward to seeing my family.

To Do Before Sunday

• Dishes (Trevor assures me he can do these)
  
• Clean rat cage (Guess Trevor's handling this one)
• Buy groceries
• Laundry and more laundry
• Clean bathroom (Trevor also assures me he can do this, though I'm skeptical)
  
• Buy toiletries, etc, at Target
• Buy rat food mix
• Coffee night on Thurs? (canceled due to snow)
• Put up the rest of XMAS decorations?
  
• Pack
• Pack some more
• Meet with Mita in Seattle on Saturday (if we don't get snowed out) POSTPONED
  
• Go to a play with Mom in Seattle on Saturday afternoon (see above) CANCELED
  
• Have some sort of down time (in addition to chores, etc) with Trev on Saturday night
  
• Be packed, prepared, and at airport by 2:00 Sunday afternoon (if my flight isn't canceled)

HOW?!

Observational Skills

People really only see what they want to. If one more person insinuates that the ring I wear on my left ring finger, which I've worn nearly constantly for at least FIVE YEARS, is an engagement ring, I swear I'm going to stop wearing it until I actually do get engaged. Sheesh!

Winter Wonderland

Dear Washington Drivers,

There is a very good reason why one should always keep a little tool that has a brush on one side and a scraper on the other side in one's car. I know it doesn't snow often here, but when it does, you all freak out. You seem to have mastered the art of brushing off your windshield, side and back windows. However, all of you have neglected an important area of your car: the roof.

I know that unless you have a sun- or moon-roof you don't actually have your view obscured when there's an inch of snow on top of your car. However, high school Physics might have taught you a few things about the relationship between acceleration and friction.

See, when you're going 70 miles per hour on I-5 and I'm driving behind you, the force of your acceleration combined with the air around your car causes that lovely inch-thick layer of snow on your roof to slowly break away and land on the road in front of me, creating your own personal mini snowstorm that not only scares the crap out of me, but also makes it hard for me to see for a few seconds.

I find myself hoping that you will have to brake suddenly and realize that physics dictates that all of that snow will fly forward onto your windshield (a clump of snow in motion stays in motion), thus leading to a lack of visibility and possibly imminent maiming or death thanks to your laziness and/or stupidity.

Remember: always brush.

No love,
The girl who totally could have died a dozen times on I-5 yesterday AKA The girl from HAWAII who knows more about driving in snow than you do

In Memoriam

Trinity Ann Awesomesauce

?? - December 6, 2008

You were always small and frail, but we held out hope that you could be okay. And even though we only had you for less than a year, you changed so much during that time. You went from being terrified of us to trusting and coming to us for comfort. I can hardly believe that the rat who wouldn't let me pick her up in March did not want to be out of my sight in the days before her death ten months later. I have to believe that you were happier for knowing us, for we were certainly happier for knowing you. You were the sweetest little creature I've ever known, and you are already terribly missed.

Wow

I'm 22 years old today. Crazy!


What a weird feeling.