ok so.

after my blog-o-rama of the weekend (thought i'd never shut up there for a while didn't you?) i regressed into man whore postings. i apologize to all men (*cough* ciavarro) who are offended by the rampant objectification which has occurred in these pages of late. i'd like to promise that it'll never happen again, but that'd be lying. let's face it, goshfukkit, i'm that kind of girl. the only person i can commit to is my hairdresser. seriously. i am, however, no liar, so i won't make those kind of promises.

anyhoo. i think that part of my problem is that i see things i'd like to write about, but i can't quite get them into words. well, i can get them into words but they don't communicate the image i have in my brain onto the page. i can't open my head and make you see through my eyes to experience the heart-shivers that what i am looking at is giving me. and that's really frustrating for me.

yes, i could track down a digital camera, take a photo, and post it. but i don't do that much (well except for the man-candy). i'd rather try and let my words spew forth like verbal diarrhea taking you, and me, on this wild and crazy river-run-ride. a veritable hailstorm of linguistic expression raining down like the shuddering afterquakes of a really good orgasm.

but, see, i can't do it. no matter how hard i try the words on the page can't take you through time to 6.39 this morning, when i had to park my car on the side of the road and look, just look at the way someone had taken a giant chalkbrush and swiped it across the mountains and the sky, blending them together till it was nearly impossible to discern where one ended and the other began. i can't find the words to tell you how amazing the skeleton sillhouettes of the trees looked in stark black relief against that watercolour backdrop, or how the lamp-posts had been so carefully placed between them, shining white white light down, spotlighting the empty street.

so i just have to look at the picture in my mind, and know that it will fade away just as though i'd left it on the dashboard of my car on the hot summer days when i stop to sit in the shade beneath the trees and read my book in the summer sun, read someone else's descriptions of someone else's winter morning.