The Cleansing

I am cold. There is really no reason to be. It is warm outside, but in the dampness and shade of last night's rain it is cold in here. My fingers and toes are a little numb and the blanket wrapped around my shoulder is drifting down to the crease of my elbow.

I am tired and my voice is hoarse and raspy from belting out old 80's tunes in a room, dimly lit and full of second hand cigarrette smoke. I suppose it didnt help that I had been drinking and dancing. Kareoke was wonderful last niight. When I arrived, at about 8:30, it was warm and humid. I was questioning my decision of atire. I was in my black leather biker jacket, rolled up jeans and my kitty shoes. A black studded belt loosly adorned my waist. At about 9 we could see the lightening start in the distance. Within a half hour the storm had rolled on top of us shaking the building with thunder and sending strobbed flashes through the bar. The rain heaped down on top of us and filled the streets and enterance to the place.
Rain makes everyone feel better. The dissolution of all of the electric energy has a reviving quality. It is like an amazing cleansing cloth for the urban soul. It washes away the stress and worry that hangs off of buildings. For some reason everything felt normal last night. There was no drama except that which we created for ourselves with the aid of intoxicants, most of which were laughter. When one person starts laughing it becomes contageous and sweeps the place like an epidemic. Death by amusement ... that's what I shall call it.

The cool air off the rain flowing in from the open doors had a sobering effect allowing the patrons to drink far more than they would have normally. We danced. We sang. We danced while we sang. We opened the "Bartenders Guide to 'Gilry' Drinks" closed our eyes and pointed.

The street slowly filled and flooded with the cool water swept over the mountains from the Pacific.

The world outside had captured us in the little haven of our weekly event.

My brain is mush. Moooosh! Staring at a computer screen for more than a day pounding keys until your fingers bleed from exhaustion has never benefited anyone.

I want to go camping. I want to run away from the city and lie on a beach with my face burried in my beach towel. I want to feel the stray fly land on the back of my thigh and not have the motivation to swat it away. I want to wake up to the sounds of birds and crickets as opposed to cement mixers and sledge hammers.

"They" are tearing up the cement in from of my house. "They" being whoever the city has chosen to hire to complete the project. The "they" in question are absolutely useless. They sit around and cat call all day. The only work that seems to get done is the drilling of the cement which only happens at 7: 30 am and around 9 pm. Trying to sleep and trying to read or watch tv are the only things they seem to want to interrupt. I know that it isnt their fault ... but someone needs to be a scapegoat and I have arbitrarily chosen "them".

I am tired. I just woke up after having fallen back into unconsciousness during the construction down time.

Aside from my meandering thoughts, I am doing very well. Feeling a little pretentious and over exercised- my brain not my body.

I think I'll go and numb my brain for awhile with some day time tv and settle in with a hot bowl of soup and an afgan knitted by my severely aging grandmother.

yes ... this sounds nice.

**Over and Out**
~V

**From an e-mail I sent earlier today**

More on the Wicked Witch of Humanities....

This is more or less a response to some of the comments that have been posted about my summer class troubles.
This woman in my class, let us call her Evyl, has been getting progressively worse.
It has gone further than telling me off and making stupid comments.
It has moved to not only telling off everyone else, but the professor as well. She tells him he is stupid on a regular basis. Now, this bother me for a few reasons. First, I have no idea how someone in their mid-thirties can think that it is ok to be so disrespectful to a professor in his class room. Second, my professor refuses to do anything about it! I am torn because I really like my prof. and I dont understand why he lets Evyl get away with it all the time. She basically tells him that his lectures are useless and all the material is "crap" every day. How this is acceptable I will never know. Aside from making some of the most horrifically ignorant comments ever she also insists on blatantly talking out of her ass.
Even worse is that yesterday while she was going on one of her rants, my prof called her Victoria FIVE TIMES! Maybe mine is the only name he knows ... but still! Keep in mind I had had a really crappy day up to that point and finally I was so frustrated enough that I put my hand up. He looked at me and said, "Yes..." Obviously searching for my name in his memory and I said, "Victoira. " I ws calm and collected but he looked at me witha bit of confusion and then looked back at her. He said, "oops... sorry about that..." I responded with, "It's ok ... but you have been doing it all morning." We sort of laughed it off BUT REALLY!!! We have been in the class for 6 weeks. EVERY DAY FOR 6 WEEKS!!! There are only 20 of us to begin with!
Anyways, as for a response to the comments posted about my first encounter with Evyl...
I know that some poeple are just difficult by nature and that when adults insist on acting like children all you can do is treat them as such. But really ... I am sick of having adults throw temper tantrums. It seems to be a current condition for a lot of them right now. If it were my children I would just laugh at them and tell them to grow up .... but these people are grown up. Not to mention bigger than me and could take me out if I make them too mad. (this referrs to another incident this weekend that I will elaborate on later).
anyways, I appreciate the comments and I have posted a link to other's blogs and just some fun stuff. If I have unwittingly forgotten someone's stuff please let me know and I will add it ASAP.
**Over and Out**
~V