Doc made me cinnamon coffee to wake up to. As I guzzled my first cup and had a smoke, we went over his plans for the day. He's supposed to go over to B's. To bring J some laundry detergent. He left ours over there last week and she used it all because she ran out. So her plan for him is for him to get us more and them more. *insert scowly face* I did mention that she quit WallyWorld, right? For all the reasons the B and I fought over on Facebook last year. All the shit he said would never happen to her, or didn't happen in the company happened. And now they are citing the same articles to be anti-WalMart. Christ, some people are so stupid.
I asked Doc, if B got drunk and took the scooter out and wrecked it, could I stab him, and would Doc help me dig the hole. Doc informed me I needn't worry, he left the wrong ignition key with B. He can't start the bike. I am so happy. We're looking at getting the parts by Tuesday, and gawd only knows how long it will take B to fuck around and get it done. Doc is thinking, since it is getting nicer, that he will start taking his mountain bike and the bus to work and get some exercise. The big ass truck just uses too much gas and pollutes everything to use it every day. Doc is coming to terms that we may have to trade it in for a Fiat.
And I say that not just because I want a Fiat like nobody's business, but because they are the only car we can afford to get raped on the finance charges because we have no credit. How exactly I'm going to origami Doc into a Fiat is a little beyond my comprehension right now, but we'll make it work. He's about the size of Jeremy Clarkson, for you Top Gear fans. An inch or two shorter, but built the same way. Have you ever seen Jeremy try to navigate getting into or out of a Fiat? Less than dignified.
So, with one of the many sets of instructions on this page, I made this:
I wasn't planning on using this technique on this particular photo set, but I may play with texture a bit and run with it. I have done enough Lomo sets, which I was going to do with this set, but I really like the mid-century lines of the car as line art. This car is a Packard Clipper. No, I had never heard of it, either. It's so cherry. The upholstery looks original, but it is flawless, for all I know this car was totally rebuilt.
I have a confession to make to you guys. I feel like I've talked at length about this car, but I don't know for sure, because I'm usually posting under the influence of Seroquel. It makes me very talkative. It also makes me very open. So, sorry if I repeat myself. For every story I retell, a dozen others are lost in the soup of my brain.
You know, Jeremy Clarkson is really the only reason I need to emigrate to the UK. I wouldn't go for the politics, weather, or food. But the people. And a reason to use a British or Irish or Scottish accent after 6 months or so.
Doc brought home 3 one-gallon jugs of purified water last night. He sent me out to the big-ass truck to get them. I went out, went round the back of the trunk and pulled the first gallon out, no problem, second gallon, okay, third gallon had collapsed in on itself and drained half way, accordingly. Collapsed in on itself. So I took them into the house, and as I came in, I inquired if he might like to talk to me about the time vortex he had traveled through on his way home, and handed him the Very Strange Gallon.
He had no explanation for it, he just laughed as I made him swear to me that the Mothership had not contacted him without me.
Okay, I'm feeling insecure about the car image. Any input, good, bad, or indifferent. I'd like to hear it. I wonder how the technique would work on a Veyron. The raw look of the line art may contrast well with the painfully contemporary lines of a Bugatti. I just asked Boomer about it and she sneezed in my face. My cat books don't mention what that means.
Why am I wearing my hoodie? It's 70 outside and 80 inside. See, people, this is what I mean about cognitive symptoms. And,no, pot does not affect them. If anything it improves them by moderating your brainwaves and keeping things more level. I call it "slowing my mind down so I can think". It was only after I smoked last night that I could get my shit together enough to take a shower (schiz. neg. symptom). I don't have to do it when I wake up at this point. I can do my morning chores (pasted all over at eye level on yellow square post-it notes), and take my meds without being baked. I can't be spoken to during this time, and my routine cannot be changed one iota. But somewhere in there is progress.
I can make phone calls on my own behalf and get it right, advocate for myself, about half the time, It helps that when I get pissed I cry. Not when I get sad, just mad. So I've been doing better getting other people to join in and help me. I still won't take calls unless it's Doc or Kelli. But I see no need to speak to anyone else.