mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I Am a GOD! That's right, folks! In 24 hours, I will be a certified, decide-if-you-live-or-die god. Now, the only way I'll decide if "you live or die" is if the "you" in that statement are a Sea Monkey swimming in a little red Sea Monkey aquarium on my computer desk. Yessir! I am a giver of life. Without me, there would be hundreds of little brine shrimp that would never see the light of day. And if a few -- nay, just ONE -- pisses me off in any way, I will crush them like the god I am only can! I feel like I am on that Twilight Zone episode where the astronauts land on the foreign planet to find that it is inhabited by ant-sized people. Yada yada yada, the ant-sized people think these human "giants" are gods. Hence the Sea Monkeys. My interest in this undoubtedly comes from my Venus Flytrap of Doom. I looked over about a week ago, and there were a lot of little bugs doing their respective things in the boggy bottom of my little terrarium. I thought it was kind-of Darwinistic that these bugs were in a terrarium with a plant... that EATS bugs. But they were somehow not only surviving but thriving. They are still in there. Living off of the decaying plant matter and bug carcasses. It's just NEAT! I got the rest of the tomatoes Spanish-Speaking Neighbor let me pick before she left and cooked them down tonight into a tasty fresh tomato sauce. (Side note: Spanish-Speaking Neighbor officially left on Wednesday. She left several weeks ago, but her family went to visit other family in Michigan. They came back on Wednesday to put their stuff in a Ryder. The seven year-old was sporting a neon-pink cast on her arm, the result of a run-in with a swing set. I gave SSN one last hug, a heartfelt "I love you"... And that's the end.) So, I made a huge batch of tomato sauce -- enough to fill three Gladware containers. Come winter, I will be able to taste summer and remember one of the last days I got to spend with my best friend. So you all can remember my cooking along with me, I took a picture of me enjoying my sauce. Ya like the apron? When I went home, my mom and I saw it in a small shop in New Orleans. I wanted the one that said, "Don't Fuck With The Cook!" But my mom gave me a very disapproving look. So, all through my younger years -- around the age of 7th grade and up -- I completely idolized this guy in my Boy Scout troop. He was everything I wanted to be: confident, funny, witty, attractive, and just cool. He dripped of cool. He went to a boarding school, and I decided I would be just as kewl and go to the same boarding school. I didn't do as well as he did,though, and I have always afraid that I let him down. Now that I think about it, he probably could have cared less. Anyway, I was just surfing along, and I found his blog. I don't remember how I happened upon it, but it really made my day. He moved to Missouri several years ago. A few years before me. Huh. Dude's destined to be Anyway, he's an excellent writer. His Cool Cup still runneths over. He's also going for his Ph.D. at seminary, which is just amazing. I don't think I will follow him through that. Besides, I doubt seminary accepts guys with tattoos of things Hebrew on his body. Well, this is the end of a rare Friday evening entry. I hardly ever write on Friday nights. Among other reasons, I just don't feel I am up to my usual writing par on Friday nights. Like this stuff is any good on a Monday night... 10:49 p.m. - Fri., Aug. 30, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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