Derrida Meets The Little Mermaid
I emailed my parents about the kitten decision. I got a message back from my mom, and she had a few points to bring up, but didn't seem angry or anything. I'm going to call her now, and cut this short...
Actually, that was a lie. I just decided to call half way through this. She's not happy about the cat, but she does understand my decision. She had a lot to add that I had not thought about, mostly bad, of course, but I found myself smiling at the thought that I might one day get to deal with those things. I told her so, and she sighed. Right now, the only thing that worries me is the money. But I can give things up, and live even more frugally than I do right now. No problem. I hope. By the way, if anyone wants to send me money, I would appreciate it very much. That will pretty much always be the case, so any time you have the need to rid yourself of a few bucks, send 'em here. They'll go to a good cause.
I have narrowed the naming down to three. Umbra tops the list, followed by Ludi and Etiam, which are tied. I think Umbra might mutate into Umber or Ember, but hopefully, if that's the one, I can keep it Umbra. I think I'll end up with a boy cat, which makes the other two higher up the list, but I don't know for sure. I haven't gotten to see the kittens yet to pick out the one I want. I'll be getting on of the dark dark brown and white stripy ones. Umbra and Umber fir perfectly with the coloring, but Etiam and Ludi sound more masculine. But again, I might be getting a girl.
There is a pack of feral teenagers out on the sidewalk by my bedroom, making feral teenager sounds. It's a party, I guess, or they're just "hanging out" at midnight. Don't they have better places to go? I hope they're gone in about an hour when I go to bed.
I'm going back to touchy-feely church tomorrow, and getting up at seven to finish my paper and get ready. And... oh my God... Is that...
People, there has been a disturbing change in my living space. I just noticed what look like blood smears on my wall about a foot up from the baseboard. Like someone wiped a bloody hand across the wall. There are dribble marks. It's real faint, and hardly noticeable, but it's there. And it's disturbing, as I mentioned earlier. Who bled here before I moved in? No one has bled here since, or I'd know about it. I'm not sure what I should do. It might be juice or something. Someone spilled it, and didn't get it all... Let me go clean that.
It's gone now; I attacked it with a wet rag.
Well, that little horror is over. I hope I don't find any more. If I do I might have to call the apartment people.
Okay. I should get the last page written, now that I've had a break and it will look like English again. You know, it took me longer to write this than it has taken anything else in a while. I wrote six pages in about two and half hours just the other weekend. Now it took me all day to even figure out what I was saying, and then to hammer out a whole four pages. Oh well. I need to add a lot, so that I can cut the stuff that makes no sense. And most of it will be gibberish, I'm sure. I mean, how *does* writing challenge the logos/truth ideal? This assumes that the western world is truly logocentric. My premise is that logocentrism is a fraud made to misdirect the efforts of the marginalized "other" and keep that "other" from realizing that with writing he or she can gain access to the true world of graphocentrism. Yeah. Another reason to cut the little mermaid. She can't write, she doesn't have feet, she sold her voice to the evil octopus witch, and the nasty eels are out to tip her boat. She obviously isn't on the graphocentrism train. Poor marginalized fish girl...
Um, yeah. I'll post and be done, I guess. I really do need to finish the paper. Or sleep. I'll dream of Captain Nemo from the however many leagues under the sea. He'll be hugging a crab and singing about the seaweed on the other side of the fence... Right before he marries the horny priest, because they're off the coast of Massachusetts, where anything is possible. God bless Massachusetts.
I can't tell if the add on the top of the page is dancing like that to get my attention, or if I'm imagining the strobe effect on my own. This is a bad sign... But since the rest of the screen isn't twitching like that, I'll assume it isn't my fault, although I will still actually post this instead of saying I will. Bet you didn't see that coming. Huh? End.


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