Ch23: Something small (between us)

My subconscious is a weird place. Take for instance the dream last night where Mackenzie was hosting this New Year's party (I guess I owed her one for her dream where I was a harmonica-player,) attended by all these literary figures, and seemingly everybody else I've ever known. The literary figures, as it turned out, were kinda douchey. Go fig.

Of course, my regular conscious isn't so great, either. I went and woke myself up nice and early (look at the time, subtract maybe 20 minutes,) so that I could get a headstart on getting comics... and apparently it's supposed to rain. Say what? Bastards - it already rained a few weeks ago, enough rain. No, wait, I take that back - so long as I don't catch a cold, I welcome to rain, as it is doggedly hot without it.

As you're no doubt aware, it's been one of those weeks, late in Spring or early in Summer where you're taken off-guard by how hot it's gotten so soon. A couple weeks ago I was unexpectedly bundled up and now it's full summer mode.

Two nights ago (wow I haven't posted since Monday morning, go figure,) Brandon and I spotted a huge bee in the basement. We were freaked - I overplayed it but it really does bother me when stinging insects invade - but then the bee did something odd. It landed in the lighting fixture on the wall, I suppose what you'd call a sconce. It flew right into the glass shield around the lightbulb, and just... stayed there. Every now and again, it flew furiously around the bulb, but could not seemingly escape. This may or may not have had something to do with the recently-installed energy-saver bulb we put in there, which is shaped like a coil, not a bulb. Anyway, the sucker was trapped. Occasionally he'd stay still so long Brandon and I would think he was dead, so we'd flick the glass and he'd move. He stayed in there the rest of the night, so what I did is I took this X-Box game I was given by Aunt Lori and Gail (to get it off their hands despite not having an X-Box,) and putit on top of the fixture, sealing him in and... well, apparently suffocating him. The next morning he did not move at all when the glass was flicked. So... now there's a dead bee in there. We'll probably take him out eventually....

Last night, instead of actually writing, I took it upon myself to format the script I wrote Ana two years ago, Summer at Sixteen. I hadn't read it in a while. While going over it, I had a number of issues, the most prominent being that it was just... dead. Seemingly lifeless for so much of it. I feel like, as a movie about teenagers, it could be a little more sarcastic (and therefore funny,) or otherwise a little more dramatic (and therefore interesting.) It's not horrible, but I could probably write it better today if I were so inclined. At the moment, I'm not, I've got enough to occupy myself with.

The allergies are killing. It's the ole familiar symptoms, the dry eyes, scratchy thorat, and sneezing. Ecch. Need to get pills.

That's about it for now, I think I've covered everything. If not, then I'll addendum but I don't think that's necessary.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto