The Cookies are Gone

If you were here right now, you hear the sounds of my life. These sounds include the pool children, the yippers (now back on opera for a time), and the bunnies upstairs. They've started early tonight. But you would also hear, if you listened very closely, the quiet sobbing of a girl who has eaten her last ranger cookie. Join me in a sigh of regret, people.

Actually, I am not crying over the cookie. Or the new lack of cookie. Anyway, I can't desire those cookies anyway, because we can only truly desire that which it is impossible for us to get. And I could go to the store, buy ingredients and make a batch of the things right now. So I don't desire them, although I certainly lack them. And that is sad, isn't it? Both that I understand (I think) that part of Lacan, and that I have no cookies.

Speaking of Lacan, I told you once of a joke about him that I couldn't remember. I think I remember it now. He goes on forever about the "presence of absence" in our lives. We're born without our mommies, and are forever deeply in lack of that which we desire, which, in his mind at least, is our mommies. Later theorists (sounds like terrorists, huh?) hold that our desire may not be to return to our mommies, but that we nevertheless have absence all our lives. So the joke is this: "A Lacanean Christmas--the absence of presence." Hardy, har, har. But I might remember it forever now that I recalled it this once. And I guess I could always look up this posting, if I do forget.

I had an encounter with ants today. It was not fun, and I think my friend finally figured out how serious I was when I had earlier mentioned my fear of them. I really need to get a handle on that. Ants are everywhere, and I can't spook like that next time I've walked into a pile of them unknowingly. Next time, I might not be about to cross the street, I might be on that street. It's not so much that I worry about people laughing at my antics. That's fine. They probably laugh about my hat, anyway. But I might not be in a place where it's safe to just flip out like that. But I am proud of myself for one thing: I might have started the shaking, I might have turned skittish until I reached my car, and I might have made an interesting spectacle, but it did not last as long as usual.

A side note about the ants here. They come in two sizes. The regular ants, all sorts, which are truly horrifying in large numbers, and the ANTS, which are about as much larger than the regulars as I can tolerate. These nasty things don't have mounds, they have holes in the ground. They look like funnels poked into the dirt, and the ants are *fast*. They are about the size of my thumbnail, and they come out in the rain. Had I walked into a field of those, I'd have done worse than panic.

Well, now you can all stop laughing at me, because I'm done talking about stupid fears that have no basis in real life risk to health. Instead, I am moving on to the two-hour nap I enjoyed this afternoon. I did my orange book reading, and decided that I was not energetic enough to get anything out of the white book, or the articles for Turn of the Screw. So I set my backup alarm to go off in two hours, turned off the living room light, and napped on my futon. Had I chosen the bedroom for this, I would not be awake and typing this right now.

Well, since I am awake, I might as well start the white book. I'll read a few of the articles, stop when I hate it, and then write about frogs. I'm taking my laptop to school tomorrow to do my frogs article before class. I might just stay after class too, since the office will be quiet. I'll just have to remember to leave before it gets dark. I don't like walking long distances in the dark. At least in unknown territory, and this is still that. It will be for a few months, probably. There's a gun emporium down the street that sells mace. I might get some. Then I wouldn't mind walking at night. I've got a knife already, but if I end up killing an attacker, they probably won't let me off on self-defense. Juries are stupid like that. I doubt I'll get jail time for macing some thug.

Oh well. As I stated previously, I need to go. Have to make up time for that nap. I'll be back later, as in tomorrow, probably. End.