Hello, februarurary

There is something special about a new month.
I typed moth, which is precisely what I want to talk about
an uncommon, and overlooked element of all februarys.
In highschool I dated a boy named Dillon Morris who screen printed shirts for a company he and his friend blake had invented one boring sandy egg-an non beach day. The first, was called LOPE-IT and the second INter active apparel. Both were pretty silly and spawned a smattering of silk screening rubbish all over campus but the best selling product by far was the tye dIE februebruary shirt.
To this day I have a degree of difficulty saying february as well as spelling it.
Hence the twelve (days of christmas) (30 days of feb.) types of sleppping spelling? wow I am sleeping, SPELLAGE that will spill onto this poor blog. I went into work today to talk to Heath about planting the tree branches that are growing in my kitchen. He said it would be best if I introduced them slowly into a watery dirt first to become accustomed to the new nutrients and then to ease in a dirt mix and fert. every two weeks. I've decided that this recipe for growth is applicable in more than one way and if you have a half of a figurative brain then I am certain you'll understand.
The newer elements of my life are uncomfortable, unsettling, and sometimes I look at those brown seemingly withered branches mirroring and mocking my self confidence.
How I would rather be frozen out in the snow with my other roots, safe until sunshine, sure until spring.
I've developed the system though, to create my own tree, stem by stem and the I am grateful for the process.
Last night char decided halfway through the evening that her friend and I were meant to be together. Tonight I made the executive decision that we
are
not.

I woke up this morning and ryan was calling me to tell me that he had cut off his finger.



I had to take a test (I did alright 82% without the written which I am counting on...) for humanities (isn't living an art?)
so he went to the ER alone... to have them (in my mind) re-attatch his finger. The camera phone made it look... legit? Can I say that about a deep cut?
Ryan wants to be a dentist, so this put kind of a damper on my day- thinking about this poor guy who had so aptly and admirably (belly) balanced a big jud's burger the night before in the right hand, so casually and comfortably (now resting on his belly. blehcky)...reduced to a stub in someone's mouth. Probing for... plaque.
Oral Hygiene is an uncomfortable subject excluding... limbs.
Teeth- make me shiver.
I'm pretty positive that in the night I grind my teeth, perhaps when I'm old and have stubz for teeth ry and I can open a store called STUBZ AND NUBZ
a tupperware place or something.

I called my mom to talk to her about it,
she ooohed and awoughd the whole conversation.
ten minutes after I got off the phone
who should pull up but ryan with his pointer finger completely wrapped in a giant white cast... ey thing.
Turns out he was only wasting my worry on ... the TIP of his finger.
Which he cut with a razor,
big (stupid?) baby.
I've decided I'm going to change my attitude to one of acute attention,
and in the nearest possible instance
who should axe I den(t)(f)ly slam his finger in a door but
...me?

Also, since I am taking my position in the ward as greeter very very seriously, I've decided that tomorrow I will become left handed, and make sure that everyone coming in is greeted with my left hand, and subsequentially (spell?) (slepp?) my left wrist which happens to have the most white trashy animeashy doubledragonnogoodflamming fake tattoo on it.

I can't wait.

to sleep.