All you or I or anyone else can think about right now is this god awful weather and when it’s going to let up. But isn’t this a tedious topic to rehash day after day, hour after hour, layer after layer? Yesterday after stepping out of the car into a freezing puddle disguised as a snow bank, running across the street in gale force winds while trying to save my umbrella from death, some guy at the elevator was like, “What a crappy day, eh?” or some variation thereof. I nodded in agreement, but what the fuck – I can’t think of a single thing to say about the weather anymore. Yet I’m sitting here rambling like your aunt Peg about it. It’s these kind of quirks that keep it fresh and interesting here at Nil by Mouth and we sure are glad you stopped by.

Since I can’t cull together a whole post these days (see emptiness of the last two weeks), I’ll cull together several paragraphs of half unfinished posts. In reverse order. Try to keep up okay.

2 -25

I’ve been having a hell of a time overcoming Saturn in retrograde this week, seeing as Saturn is my ruling planet. Shit’s been out of wack and I’m finding myself sobbing at the slightest change in the wind. Also I’m starting to cook up a theory about how news is bad for health. Sure we can all lament how ill-informed most of us are, and how if only more people knew the truth about things (the state of the world, the ingredients in a big mac) a more peaceful and better smelling world might come about. But if you actually set out to inform yourself about the world and it’s events you’d do well to get rid of most sharp objects and corrosive cleaning products first. I always thought I didn’t read enough news etc etc, and now since I’ve found myself with a touch too much time on my hands and a fear of leaving the house it’s all news all the time. And I’m pretty sure it’s bad for me. Skin problems, insomnia, general malaise. It may seem silly to bring this up in response to wars, fires, rebel skirmishes, etc but I disagree. Knowing about so much fucked up shit but feeling powerless to change any of it helps how?


It was supposed to be a dedicated work day. I made a list, something I haven’t done in over a month. It’s no wonder I’m not getting anything done. Well, I get some things done, but not the kind to write all over the web. But let’s see, last night I got my ass kicked on the tennis court by a guy from craig’s list. I’m used to all these dudes that I play with via the CL totally sucking. Ok, it’s not that they totally suck it’s that they overestimate their ability (a lot). So last night, it’s late, I’ve forgotten a sports bra and a T-shirt, but what do i care cause I’m expecting a somewhat chagrined dude who’s surprised to be getting buried alive by my backhand. Instead I’m all out of breath by the ten minute mark and can barely get my racket on most of the balls. It was great. By the end of the hour I was totally in the game though. The unfortunate thing was that we finished playing around 11:30 pm and I came home all awake and, eventually, starving. I drank like a gallon of water and gave myself a stomach ache. It took me until 2 in the morning to push past my soaring endorphins and my whining tummy to sleep. I woke up at 7 am hungrier than I’ve ever woken up in my life. All I could think about was one of those breakfasts on the menu that I usually shake my head at: pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast. Barely awake I somehow got to the diner around the corner and ordered my dream breakfast (I skipped the eggs actually) and watched this very nice snow falling in the sunshine and all the little kids on their way to school. Remember when you had to be on the way to school by 7:30?

Anyway I came home expecting to start my day and my list, but instead fell back into bed for four hours. Not good. Already I have to make up for lost time. And already I feel kind of sick for no obvious reason. The only cure I can think of is a trip to the coffee place in my dark shades and big hat. Cause it’s that kind of day.


Here it is, another year running down the street at top speed, like the two kids I saw when I peeked out from my bedroom window last night, scared from the loud booms and double and triple booms from the midnight fireworks. I’ve never been scared by fireworks before, and actually I mostly really like ‘em. But what was it? Maybe that I couldn’t see anything so the rumbling just filled the sky on it’s own. Maybe that after the news and such on the radio every morning, and the recap at 7 there’s a rock in my stomach that just doesn’t go away anymore. And this dream I had a few weeks ago that there was a firestorm in Manhattan and everything was bloody. In spite of those persistent feelings of doom, I spent the evening just as I needed to, with my sleepy dreamy-eyed boyfriend watching home movies (not *that* kind you pervs), listening to music, and feeling right.

No New Year’s resolutions this year.

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