patron saint of saturdays and checklists

 (another phone pic (albeit sideways)...)

i don't have much to say today except for how much i just freakin love you all.  today is consisting of yard work, laundry, bill-paying...you can see where this is going.  the sun is out.  the sky is bluuuuuue.  (the more u's the bluer it is.  fact.)

last night we watched a good percentage of the opening ceremonies.  what followed, as i slept, were some of the weirdest dreams ever.  one forced me to wake up and try my hardest to stay awake so that i wouldn't fall back into dreaming the same dream.  i'm finding it hard to not blame canada for this...  also, spoken word poetry or whatever it's called...i don't like it.  will you still like me?  i hope so...  i just can't get into someone acting like their words are so important that they need to dramatically read them to me.  do you know what i mean?

and it partly sounds like rapping.  and it's usually like a white guy doing it so...it doesn't quite jive.  (ya dig?  oh, i crack myself up..)  i don't know.  i love words.  mostly other people's words.  and sometimes my own words but only like years after i've written them.  and sometimes i read them and i'm like, did i seriously write this?  and how can i do that again?  but i would rather give up an important body part than get up on stage and act like my words are worth anyone's time.

tell me how you feel about this.  dramatic poetry readings.  i need opinions  :)