Suitcases of Memories...

I woke up from a bittersweet dream, crying a little and singing bits and pieces of American Pie.
I think I figured out, and can account for all the pieces of it.
It was okay. It was well worth the dream for the all the other feelings in it.
Anyway, I sang it all out, and got dressed and took a fast hike down to the burrito place about a mile away. I brought stuff home. Tortillas can fill a person up quick.
It's wonderful to have breakfast in the evening. There's so much more choice.
The walk always makes me feel better too, especially at night. I'm still being a night owl.
Now I'm back home and comfy and in the mood to do some sound making and editing.
I wish we could get that reality show about the trek thru Nicarogua here in the US that BBC OUCH has been talking about on the message boards. I'd make that a link if I knew how.
I'll guess I'll be learning how.
Today my plan is to try and stay up through the whole morning and get some errands done on the first bus out.

Up All Night

The spinning forward sleep cycle continues to plague me. One day I'll get some melatonin and try it. A friend of mine swears it works for her.
The beautiful thing about navigating on foot at night is that you can hear everything and don't have to worry about being sun burnt to a crisp while waiting for traffic breaks.
I'm turning into Boo Radley, aren't I?

So, after searching for a sightie, to read the unscreenreadable, I now have a blog of my very own.
Now, I'm off to forage for celebratory food, at one of the nearby joints.
Where else, but along the side of the road?
Well it turns out, just as I write this, my neighbors have decided to start shooting some type of ammo off the balconies and in the breezeway.
Lovely!
I can't tell if it's a paint gun, pellet gun, bb, or C O 2.
I think I can scratch C O 2 off the list. Sounds more like beebees or pellets.
Just a couple of months ago they were somehow shooting cubes of ice, long distance, with quite a lot of force. I heard a couple of windows smash two buildings over from the shooter/possible steroid pumped thrower, (we have a baseball scholarship guy upstairs) during the ice cube incident.
Of course the downstairs neighbor with a child is egging him on.
It may be just caps. I hope, since I'm hearing the toddler running out some of the time.
Not that the guy left in charge of the kid has ever protected him.
An hour and a half later, the shooting has momentarily stopped.
Now being more ravenous than ever, I'm thinking of caning further away in the opposite direction for green burritos at Rosa's Cafe and Tortilla Factory.
Yes, I'm on my way!
Audrey