September Part 1
I Seeeeeee You!
9-1-02
There are little bugs flying around. I think they like the light of my computer screen. And there is a cricket hiding behind my TV. I didn't write yesterday because Roach didn't and I was feeling as lazy as him. Plus I did nothing but make pasta and work on my Salvation study. And neither are such interesting topics. Today I missed church again because I stupidly procrastinated again (didn't call people Saturday) and no one could give me a ride. So I walked around my apartment in a jingly skirt all day, made little pizzas, and downloaded music. At least now I know what "Flogging Molly" sounds like - and Spiderman was right. They rock. Kudos to the Roach for good taste.
Secret Agent
9-2-02
I've gotten into the habit of collapsing into my bed with all my clothes on and falling asleep and then waking up at 4:30 a.m. to brush my teeth and run into things.
It can't be good for me. Why do I feel most inspired to draw at midnight? I'm a wereartist I guess. Or something like. All I did today was download music, make cream puffs, eat cream puffs, make little pizzas, eat little pizzas, and talk to the Roach and other internet friends. Oh yes and I fed Jake. Jake is this hulking college guy (not my brother) who lives next door who I feed cookies, banana bread, and now cream puffs to every time I make them. I figure he can appreciate them. I suppose I think of him as a sort of really large watch dog. See, if he ever hears me screaming because some maniac broke into my apartment and is murdering me, he will come bust in and stop it from happening because he will want more cream puffs in the future.
Sneaky, no? Yes, it is all part of my plans, nyeh heh heh....
Work tomorrow. I started drawing Vicky's daughter at last. I hope to finish that before school starts. At least I'm getting paid this time. Next on my list is developing film, returning my Roald Dahl library book, and obtaining health insurance, and putting money in the bank so my checks won't bounce. Weee. What fun. And now I shall bid thee, adieu.
The Were-Artist Strikes Again
9-3-02
Yeah, that doesn't make much sense, but I've yet to come up with a better name for someone who likes to draw at 2 a.m. every night. Today's picture I did all with the mouse at my computer and it only exists electronically. ZAP.
Every time I ride my bike from work the traffic blows past me and I think to myself every time one vehicle zooms by, "INSTANT death." I'm mere feet from being roadkill. If I were to lose control for some unknown reason or get blown off the sidewalk by an unusually strong gust of wind I would be dead. So I pedal and sweat along under the scorching sun muttering, "INSTANT DEATH! INSTANT death! INSTANT Death!" and it entertains me and distracts me from thinking about how hot it is. I see the dead mourning dove and it is a pile of mummified feathers. I hear movement as lizards streak into the underbrush before I can see them - a hiss of dried vegetation. Then there's something...some smell in the air that I can't quite put my finger on that reminds me of that spice Mom dried from the garden once that made me want to vomit every time I inhaled the smell. Very very faint but enough to make me frown. A colorful yet filthy old ice cream cup squashed to the pavement...I wonder who littered and how many months or years ago they thoughtlessly tossed that empty cup there.
All I did was work today. It was one of the first days I've not been happy and energetic at my job (this could have something to do with staying up until 2 a.m.). I felt like I was rude to this one man. I said, "May I help who's next?" And then the lady who was next was deaf and didn't hear me and I recognized her, but the guy behind her didn't know so he came over to my register, supposing that she was ignoring my call. I said, "Wasn't she next in line?" And made him let her go next. She wrote on a paper for me and I put in her order, and then I felt bad because really the guy didn't know that she was deaf and really I could have let her wait a little longer. I apologized to the guy, but I still felt like I was unnecessarily rude. I should not stay up so late. Especially tomorrow night since the next day is my college orientation at 10 a.m. (and I'm not sure how long it will take me to get there by bus).
Jeanie came up today from downstairs and gave me a present - a .005 Micron Pen. I was so happy! Now I can do fur in my comics again.
The Shadow shaved his head. I kept staring at it because it was so different from his usual dark, somewhat curly growth. It made me think of a concentration camp or prison...which I guess is appropriate seeing as he's just started college again.
Okay 'nuff said I'm going to sleep.
Hello?!?! I want a QUARTER!!!
9-4-02
Okay, so he didn't actually scream at me, but it that's sure how it felt. How can someone be so annoyed and angry over getting a dime and a nickel back instead of a quarter? A lot of people will give me odd amounts of change with larger bills so that their change comes back without pennies. Sometimes they wait until the register is open to dig out those coins and I have to work out the difference in my head (which I think I've become fairly good at). This fellow was one of these people. He wanted to give me a dime so that he could get a quarter back instead of a nickel and a dime. I was distracted by something else - I don't even remember what - and he got really mad that I wasn't taking his stupid dime and yelled at me. Anyway, it's not that big of a deal. He was the only rotten apple today. I think I annoyed the mini tuna lady though. I tend to over-explain things to people and it ends up as a lot of jibberish that people don't understand. The mini tuna lady (she isn't mini, but she always gets the mini sandwich) said something about how my register needed a new button guide cover. The register I am at has been used so much that the plastic is broken up and the labels on the buttons are worn off entirely in certain spots. I said "Yes, but it's sort of like an old ivory piano, you know - like if you learn to play on an old beat up piano with the keys all broken and cracked you get used to that like the one key with the crack is where you always stop on a certain scale and stuff and you're used, in your mind, to the beat up piano's keys so when you get a new piano you can't play well because that key you always stop at doesn't have the crack and..." It was at this point that I started to think that I was talking an awful lot without saying much and the lady was looking politely impatient. I said "Ah, nevermind." And she gratefully distanced herself from me.
We got new shirts at work. T-shirts instead of polo shirts so they're a lot nicer in this hot weather. More breathable. And they're flashier too. Very bright red contrasting well with the yellow logo and black lettering across the backs. The Shadow got one, but didn't put it on yet. It will be weird when he does because he's always this drifting black entity...not a bright red one. It will ruin the shadow effect. Oh well.
The cool policeman came in this morning early. I was happy to see him as always because he's cool. He's a superhero in my eyes. He's got the build and the job...fighting crime. Anyway, I wanted to ask him if he had any cool stories to tell, but I couldn't, so I just restocked the chips and tried to listen in on his and his partner's conversation to find if they were talking about anything cool. I couldn't hear them very well though and what I did hear sounded more like private family stuff, so I just finished with the chips and went back to my register. I'll bet he has lots of cool stories though.
Tonight I talked to the roach and we wrote a little while I downloaded music and listened to Flogging Molly - my first 'favorite' band ever. I almost always like a little something of everything, but I've never (until now) liked everything about something. I've liked everything I've heard from Flogging Molly so far.
Then Jeanie took me to Target to put film in the film developing place and to buy toilet paper. As we moved through the store I spotted my former boss (the guy who told me I was fired) but I pretended I didn't see him because he was undercover and even though I don't work there anymore, I wouldn't blow the security guys' cover. I don't even think he recognized me with my hair down, a tank top, glasses and a hat because when I worked there I was always in uniform with contacts and my hair pulled into a ponytail. Anyway as we were walking through the store I turned into the 'action figure' isle to check up on the Spiderman toys to see if they have a Venom, but they didn't. As I was ranting about how stupid it was that there was no place in Phoenix that had a Venom action figure, A guy walked past us wearing a Venom shirt! I said, "Look! That guy's wearing a Venom shirt! Why are there shirts of Venom, but not action figures???" and so Jeanie chased him down and asked him where he got the shirt and he said, "Hot Topics". So I guess I'll look there next time I go to the mall. Who knows? They might have toys there amidst all those spikes and black leather.
My orientation is tomorrow, though, so I need to get to sleep early so that I can get up early. I will ride the bus (which stinks) but maybe when I get there I can find someone who can work out some sort of car pooling deal with me...maybe. I will leave two hours before I need to be there just in case I miss a bus or get lost, and I will bring Crime and Punishment to read if I end up with a lot of free time. I'm getting through it veeeeeery slowly, but so far I'm enjoying it.
Oh woe. Woe is me.
9-5-02
I felt rotten and vile all day today. I did nothing but complain pretty much at orientation when I talked to people. I'm sure it was a pleasure to meet me. I hate riding the stupid bus and I'm intimidated by the university, fearing I won't be able to afford all my supplies and the bus fare and such. I was composing an email to Tari about killing my evil villain when this guy asked me what I was writing. I ended up telling him all about my plot and characters and showing him my illustrations of them all. He didn't give me a weird look when I started ranting, which surprised me. Instead he offered suggestions and posed hypothetical questions like, "How can the mouse out-run the lynx?" And "How does Agent know Klyo will stay down when he falls?" He seemed like a really pessimistic, critical fellow, but then he put forth the effort to talk to me and give me certs during the presentations, so I was nice and somewhat open to him in return. Anyway, after that I fell back into my self-conscious sour mood. It had to do with what I was wearing. In fact, everthing was tainted by what I was wearing today. I'm not going to wear that short skirt and shirt in public again. Stupid guys (no offense to my male readers). I only ran into one truly nice fellow along my bus route. He said, "How long have you been waiting?" I told him about twenty minutes and mentioned something about getting a drink at the am-pm behind us and started towards it, then I paused and asked him what time it was. He told me and it seemed too close to the time for the bus to arrive so I didn't go get a drink. So he said, "You thirsty?" and I shrugged. He said, "You want some water?" I shrugged again and said "Sure..." So he ran into the am-pm and bought me this hulking 1.5 liter bottle of water! I thanked him very much, then said goodbye because the bus just arrived. One nice guy at least.
After several not-so-friendly guys, I finally reached work and stepped off the bus happy to be out of the most recent staring man's eyes. I thought I'd peek in to tell Paul I was going to ride home and get my uniform and ride back. Apparently he needed me right then. He asked if I could just stay. I said "Well...okay" with a bit of hesitation because what I was wearing was most DEFINITELY NOT work apparel. He helped me out though - gave me a T-shirt, a half-apron, and a visor hat. Vicky (whom I was replacing) lent me her hair tie and so I spent the rest of the night working in a short skirt and sandals. Work was actually kind of relaxing because it was a friendly environment, I was dressed somewhat modestly (at last), and I didn't have to think about money or school or anything but cleaning windows and counters and taking orders.
When I got home I felt like crap and turned on my computer so I could hear some music. I was bombarded by several friends through instant messaging dialog boxes. I told a few of them my mopey story and then continued to complain and try to leech virtual back-pats out of them all. Poor Roach ended up with most of my whining which probably wasn't very nice for him. I think I'm over it all now, though, because I'm too tired to rant anymore...
My Poor Psycho Killer
9-6-02
Today was not the best day for us at work. This lady and her husband ordered a sandwich and a salad and after the lady took one bite she decided she didn't like it and wanted a different one. This, of course, was unreasonable seeing as the sandwiches we hand out are NOT over-sized samples. They do cost money to make and when you order one, you get one - not two or three according to whether you 'like them' or not. So this lady and her husband got really really mad and threw a fit and walked out saying they were going to call in and stop the credit card transaction. Paul and everyone else were all put in a rather grumpy mood after that.
One of our regulars came up to the counter later and said he had ordered the sandwich and soup combo, not the sandwich and chips combo. Paul told him that he was sorry the mistake was made and then said he would fix it. The guy said he wanted chilly and Paul said that it would cost him 80 more cents to make up the difference. He didn't understand why he had to pay anything because on the menu the sandwich and soup combo is cheaper than the sandwich and chip combo. Paul kept telling him it was more and then Becky jumped in and told him again that it did cost more and she could ring him up a receit if he wanted to see. They kept emphasizing that if he wanted the chilly deal rather than the chip deal, it would cost more and he was still confused (because he saw chilly as soup) so they started explaining it slower and repeating the same thing in different ways like he wasn't smart or something. I was severely vexed because I like this guy - we always exchange niceties and when we were doing the drawing for the Harley Davidson motorcycle he told me that if he won it, he'd have to give me a ride. So I thought he was a nice guy and a smart guy too, so I was extremely saddened by the way he was being treated. He just didn't know that the chilly cost more than the regular soup and so when he ordered chilly it was more than the chips OR the regular soup combo. After that part was explained he understood, but they kept on explaining it until he finally said, "I don't need an explanation..." at which point I really knew he had taken offense. I could see Paul and Becky's perspective. They didn't realized that he didn't know the Chilly was more expensive. It was just a sorry event all around and I do hope he comes back again.
I came home for my two hours off and hung out, downloading more music and looking at Roach's comics, then went back to work. The air smelled very nice (unusual). I guess it had rained a bit while I was inside. Sweet herbal smells mixed with ozone. A nice change from the usual dry stench of decay and exhaust.
At work Fred (the owner, Carol's husband) joined us and became overseer. He had me clean old tomato juice and guts off the walls and then get down and clean the floor. It wasn't the most pleasant experience, but I suppose it needed to be done. We don't want ants, after all. Then I headed home and there was a COOL breeze! Amazing! A COOL breeze! That never happens here...unless - *crack of thunder* there's a big monsoon coming. "Crap." I said as I felt a few droplets of rain on my arms. I biked as fast as I could, hoping that I wouldn't get caught in the downpour. Fortune was with me at least this evening in that it did not downpour until I was safe inside. I couldn't get on my computer at first, because of lightning and that made me sad because I wanted to listen to music, talk to my friends, and role play with the Roach. We had a big deal planned - a plot to kill my villain who is very evil. That is him up there in the well - not a kitten (I'm not so morbid as to draw a bleeding kitten in a well for no reason). Luckily the storm passed and the lightning cleared up. I got back online and we played until 1 a.m., Roach's time (time zones can be such a pain). We succeeded in delivering the fatal blow to the evil villain (a poisoned arrow), then he left to get at least some sleep while I stayed up and drew a picture to illustrate the ordeal.
So does that mean I'm a role playing fanatic? After witnessing all the guys who were ranting about Magic and Dungeons and Dragons at Orientation, I would love to say NO. I like to write and draw stories...not fight with dice. And...and we don't use cards or a point system or magic.
It IS different.
Really!
I'm not a D&D weirdo! I'm a writer and illustrator!
So there.
Montana vs. Arizona: I Want to Go Home!
9-7-02
I got my photographs developed at last. As usual I was mostly disappointed in them, but I did get a few good ones. Here are two of them. Montana and Arizona. It is so hot here...and so scorchingly dry and dead. I don't like the city. Two more years I guess. At the least. I shouldn't complain though. Life is good! I'm eating and working and will soon be going to school as well!
So anyway, I had a dream last night. And this is unusual because I rarely ever remember my dreams – especially when I don’t get proper sleep (which, since I went to bed at 3 a.m. was surprising). It was kind of freaky. Apparently I did something that warranted death in the state of Arizona. I didn’t want to die, but I’m not the kind of person who would fight against the authorities. I just sorta went along with everything like some sort of lamb to the slaughter. The odd thing was, my Dad drove me to the place where I was to be electrocuted. He stayed with me while they hooked me up and I babbled on with the last things I wanted to say. The ironic thing was, the very last thing I said before they threw the switch was, “I love you, Dad.” I find this odd because he was the one to drive me there to be executed (apparently without objection). They zapped me in stages, waiting to see if I was dead each time, and every time the electricity stopped I could hear and see what was going on around me and knew I was still alive so far. When the electricity went through me I would go rigid and everything was painfully stiff and immobile and I couldn’t think or anything. Then either the electricity went out or someone who actually cared that I was being unjustly executed stopped it. I knew I was still alive, but barely and then I was out of it entirely. I woke up later and Jake was at my side all excited about how I was going to pull through despite all odds. Then I went back to sleep because I hurt all over and couldn’t talk. Later I woke up and was able to walk around and stuff, so I had to go back to work at Cousins. I drew a ferret for Jake because he wanted help drawing Scythe. I knew I wasn’t exactly normal after my brain was half fried so I remarked about how happy I was that I could still draw at least, if not think very well. It was hard to think and take in things around me without focusing really hard, and I do not believe I was talking very well or very fast either when I did.
When I woke up I wondered at the connotation of the dream. I think it had a lot to do with Klyo, my evil villain, being put to death because Klyo is, in fact, me. Or at least – he comes out of my imagination. Perhaps I was being executed for the terrible things he’s done. I don’t know why my Dad was in my dream since I’ve only seen him once in the last four years. Maybe it was a subconscious thing…wishing my Dad would be there for me for once. Even if it was to watch me die.
Click for a Virtual Tour of Jo's Studio!
9-8-02
I scanned many of my pictures tonight - including my apartment photos. Take a tour and see just how small and messy my place is. Actually, it's messier now because these pictures were taken when I'd just moved in and I didn't even have my computer yet. You can also see my skeleton horse now and my smoking dragon sculpture (you burn incense inside it), as well as my rancor (from two sides), and a baby moose I took pictures of up in Montana.
As for what I did besides scanning pictures today - it's rather boring. I washed clothes and dishes and swept my floor. Whee! In the laundry room I pulled my capris out of the drier and saw the inside of one pocket was pink. Drat, I'd left my cherry chapstick in it. The rest of the capris looked fine and so did my other clothes. Out of curiosity, I thought I'd check and see if there was any chapstick left. Stupid thing to do. The chapstick had been liquified and as soon as I popped off the cap it rained down on my fresh-out-of-the-wash capris. Boo. I took 'em home and scrubbed out the pink spots with an old toothbrush and hung them up. I think they'll be just fine, but my lips will get all chapped now and I won't be able to do anything about it.
Other than cleaning and scanning I went to church. I didn't eat a thing at home either. I ate slices of cake bread for breakfast (compliments of my church college group), ate at the church luncheon for lunch, and then ate snacks at Evening Service.
At the luncheon the blood mobile was outside and people were going out and giving blood. I've never ever given blood. I don't even know what type I have. I felt like I needed to because it was the perfect opportunity and it might save a life. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't bear the thought of being stabbed by a needle - especially more than once (if they missed the vein). I felt really bad afterwards and helped Jess and Sam stack chairs and clear tables. It didn't exactly save any lives, but it helped the nice people who were cleaning up after the luncheon. I think I will give blood next time if someone will go with me. I don't like to be in pain alone.
Jo is a Suck-Up
9-10-02
Yesterday I worked. Today I got up at 5:30 A.M. (As far as I can remember...it's all fuzzy...) so I could get to school by 8:30...even though it's only maybe a twnety minute drive from my apartment. The need for arising at such an obscene hour was to make time for the stupid lagging bus system of Phoenix. I found when I got there, that I was an hour early, however, and so I'm never getting up at 5:30 again. Never (holds head).
I thought school would discourage me and fill my mind with despondency, but it didn't. The people there are nice and cooperative and helpful. The only way I suffered was in buying books (ouch) and missing the first part of my HTML class (oops). The schedule was backwards so the earlier class was written after the later class and so I didn't even go until the "lab" half (and, incidently, the lab was empty). It took me and this other guy, Joe, some time to figure out exactly what was going on (he made the same mistake). I found that I did not miss much though, thank goodness. The classes I thought would be tough and sickening were not - in fact they sound fun. HTML sounds like it might be tough, but at least I'll be able to use it (like here).
I read Crime and Punishment all day between classes and buses and it is very interesting to see how the main character changes so abruptly and so dramatically all at once because of the thing he does. In my "Psychology of Conflict and Violence" class, my teacher noticed it and held it up for the class to see as "appropriate literature". I did realize that it might draw attention in that class when I first sat down, but I was so into reading it that I didn't really care. Now, I suppose, everyone in that class thinks I'm a major brown-noser. What can I say? The subject truly does intrigue me!
After it was all over I sat waiting at the bus stop where that nice skater guy gave me that big bottle of water. I kept thinking about September 11th and picturing a mushroom cloud pluming up across the valley. I wondered whether I'd be safe where I was, but then remembered Terminator 2 and decided that I wasn't. They make those bombs very big...it'd probably take out all of Phoenix. It gave me the chills and then I thought about how this "Blog" (as someone told me it should be called) would still remain and be like a memorial of some sort. Then I wondered whether everything I worked on online and all my email would be forever lost. I guess it would since only I know the passwords, and even if I wrote them on a piece of paper and hid it somewhere, it would be destroyed in the nucelar blast. Yeah...I think strange thoughts.
I bought a mini sub when I finally got home even though I really shouldn't have. I ate that and my leftover macaroni and didn't bother with the corn this time. Yes, I had corn and macaroni yesterday. A very yellow supper. So now I'm really tired so I think I'll go to bed.
Oooo...Pretty...
9-11-02
There was something I wanted to say, but now I can't remember it. So I will say whatever comes to mind:
The sky is beautiful though I am but a worm in the mud. The bird comes and I hide again - ducking into darkness where it is cold...but safe. Where it is lonely, yet peaceful. I do not belong here, where I am, but I would rather be the worm than the bird.
I want to be able to relax. I want to be able to buy a CD without feeling like I'm going to go into debt. I want to flee and hide and be alone in the green with the spring rain on my face and the birds singing in the trees. I want to breath in fresh air and sigh. Smell the leaves and the dirt...think of God and the clouds in the sky. Run with the dogs until I'm exhausted and collapse in a laughing heap with them wagging their tails and panting with me while I rub their bellys and make their feet move. I want to taste well water on my tongue and ride horses. I want to feel the thrill of thunder and the softness of morning fog. I want to eat ice cream on a deck with people who want to listen and and talk and laugh and think. Letting silence fall so we can hear the life of the world around us. I want knowledge...I want wisdom. I want to learn about everything. I want to hear stories from old people. I want to ask questions about seemingly trivial things and get a serious, thought-out answer in return. I want to dance free without worrying about what I am wearing or how stupid I look or how clumsy I am. I want to pet a quiet cat sleeping on my lap. I want to fly a kite, eat a fresh-baked home-made cinnamin roll, and dig a hole to bury something in for someone else to find later when I draw a map. I want to make someone smile and laugh with genuine giddiness. I want to fall asleep in a scushy soft couch with a fireplace crackling and the scent of cedar in the air...
School is tomorrow. I am in the desert, in a city.
There is much I would desire, but I suppose that what makes it so special, is its rarity.
The Spine Under my Skin
9-12-02
I was at school alllllll day. I went to the wrong class only once...and was late to only one. Okay, so maybe that's not such a great ratio since I only had three classes today. But actually I didn't have the wrong class - there just wasn't class today there and I forgot. Outside class assignment. And the one I was late for I was only a few minutes late for, and the reason I was late was because I had just discovered that it fit my schedule and I could add it (since apparently the "Character Development" class I had scheduled was canceled due to not enough students). And the teacher didn't mind. I stayed after and talked to him and showed him some of my online stuff. I ate my squashed PBJ sandwich and did homework for my Color class until around 5 p.m. Then I decided (or rather - my growly stomach decided) to go home. It took me less than an hour and a half to get to school this morning, so I thought I'd get home in about the same time. Boy was I wrong. I hate the metro system around here...it's rotten as an egg putrefying in the gut of a dead bloated pig. Yes. That rotten. I had to switch buses three times and the last bus I had to catch was the Yellow Line - which is supposed to be some sort of express, right? Wrong. Ten minutes I didn't even notice. Twenty...I started looking around...and after thirty it was too dark to read and so I paced and grumbled and muttered internally. I found a cactus with cactus fruit on it and thought they were cool so I tried to pick one. I was rewarded with several microspines embedded in my fingers. I plucked them out, then studied the matter because I wanted to scan a cactus fruit for everyone to see. I discovered that the bristles were very very frail and could be easily broken off by rubbing them with a stick. So I did that and picked it, but then I found later that I did miss a few so I still have the evidence in my left index finger. I finally got home and made a big pitcher of lemonade and four small french-roll pizzas that I scarfed down rather quickly. That's pretty much it. That's my day. Rather boring and dull.
I found, after spending roughly 200 dollars of my dwindling funds on books that I could charge them until my loan comes in. Boo hiss. I wish they'd told me that before now. Oh well. I think I still have enough for bills. And I will (hopefully) get reinbursed when my loans come in...
Now for some "Salty Dog!"
Loooooook into my Eyyyyyyyyyezzzzzz!
9-14-02
Work...school...work...school...work...school. Hey, I'm getting the hang of it! Things are going well thus far. My wereartist tendency struck again last night and I stayed up until 3 A.M. drawing a spider. Nothing really exciting has happened. Paul is going to be a dad again. His third child. He seems markedly happy. He likes to whistle and sing "The Ants Go Marching One by One" and "When the Saints Go Marching In". Why does work make him feel like singing military music? Well I have a pretty good idea.
Yesterday was "Freaky Friday" at school and this meant that I got free food there and one teacher talked to me in the cafeteria. This was rather embarrassing since I was trying to eat a taco and continually ended up with lettuce sprouting out of my mouth and stuff dribbling down my chin.
One guy I met at orientation offered to give me a ride home and I was tempted (as I am such a miser and free rides cost less than the bus), but then when he left without pursuing it further (he had to get to class and couldn't really talk to me because a guy named Preston was in the middle of telling a story about how he used to be in the Air Force), I went ahead and took the bus. I don't really trust him. I think he has "Thor" intentions. Looking for a girl and that's the only qualification. He's nice and talks to me, but I think I'll keep my distance.
Today's picture is a self portrait of sorts. It's what I see when I am washing my hands at work - the paper towel dispenser is shiney metal.
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