Ode to Fanfarlo!

Some people reward themselves with new clothes or extra dessert, I spoil myself by turning on the bus' radio for few awesome songs; projected through two ceiling speakers and with a huge subwoofer to boot, yet powered by my oh so precious battery...just one more, just one more listen to the day's favorite new tune! Perhaps it's good I live alone, as escape from monotonous overplayed songs can prove difficult in living structures lacking a second room.

nature's got sum phat beets

Rain rain rain on the rooftop! Damn what a nice sound, dramatized by its proximity to my eardrums and the lack of double paned glass and ambient appliance hum that might dampen (heehee) its pounding. Add in the shakety shake shake from each wind gust and if I closed my eyes and imagined I could smell deepfried anythang I could damn near pretend I was ridin out katrina...suppose at least I got me a big ole whale. "Weather" hurricane, tsunami, or ptown liquid onslaught...think I'd rather play Jonah than Noah, though it gets kinda dark in here...and there's something to be said for observing sloths, giraffes, and crazy two-leggeds play nice on a wee ship. Sounds like the makings for a new reality show; Survivor: a whole new approach

Thoughts of waking to new surroundings

New possibilities. New space and a new address. Maybe. Would be big step, but one I think I'm ready to take, a journey this small pod if one whale can swim.
Three and a half years I've lived on Davis street, longer than nearly anywhere and now I contemplate leaving via one hefty beast.
And a beast that is currently showing it's age, funny how they stop making certain types of carbeurators 34 years after the conception of the vehicle they are meant for..funny in that "I'll laugh about it someday" kind of a way.
And I will too, probably someday will be tomorrow...and probably the day after that as well.
But tonight is warm and windy. No cold toes this lovely evening, only bus shakin and the sound of tree branches fighting with the wind over which direction they should point. And sleepy eyes that I will readily claim...and indulge. Cheers to ridiculous dreams and solid sleeps!

my fingers are cold

From inside my sleepin bag tucked tidily into the whale bus listening to the train and beth orton. Tula cuddled on my legs atop my quilt made by jakes mom. With it's bright colors visible even in my dark cave I call home. It's cold in here and the condensation on my windows hide the stars that would be seen if not for my curtains, stars that only insinuate how much the temp will drop tonight without the clouds to gently cuddle a touch of extra warmth down near the surface where crazy girls and kitties bed down in whale buses.
What a beautiful day. From it's starry AM conception and violently lit sunrise to temper tantrum rain pours, all best experienced and absorbed from outside of windows and inside of gortex.
What am I doing???
What the hell am I doing living in a broken down motorhome? When I can easily afford warmth and protection and comfort and ease? In a life that's hard enough, leave it to me to go and make it harder. Based on ideals, possibility, and adventure... This ride has become more a social experiment, both on those around me (unwittingly though it is) and myself (knowingly even). And a good one so far. Certainly it has it's moments, but those moments exist on both sides of the coin, visible on both ends of the spectrum, with plenty to see in between. To bed I already am, and to sleep I must. May interesting dreams find me this chilly kitty cuddled evening.