metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Taste When I was younger I had such good taste. I was attracted to all that was of pure design and clean and sleek and perfect. But as I have grown older, I am beginning to like crap. Not just borderline crap, but full-blown, unadulterated crap. Why, why, why? I have not descended completely into the hell that is kitsch, but I am slipping daily. I noticed myself thinking, �Well, that is cute.� of a little terrarium thing in an Avon catalog for fuck sake. Probably made in China via the Korean prisoner/child labor camp. It is probably plastic. It is pretty grotesque. Why did I think I liked it? What is happening to me? Oh, my God, what if I start crocheting little things to put over my toilet paper. Jeez. I�m in deep trouble here. It is to my credit that I realize how horrible this is. It is not to my credit that I still kind of want to buy it. But I am not going to. It�s just the troubling thought that I wanted it. I gotta get a grip. Meanwhile, Baxter is settling in and kind of becoming part of our little pack. He is a tender-hearted dog, and it is obvious he was not played with very much. He gets his feelings hurt pretty easy and seems confused with any type of roughhousing. He is a big dog and maybe the people that had him before were intimidated by him. He is a very large dog. He�s coming along, though. I wrote two articles for my church newsletter. They were pretty revealing in a spiritual way. Now I wonder how my little church family of judgmental Christians will take me after they read my stuff. Ah, well. It�s my own fault. I did not have to write anything. And, hey, Jesus loves me even if nobody else does! heh Countdown to in-laws: 3 weeks, 5 days. 9:02 a.m. - 2003-05-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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