hello sinister. perhaps i have posted too often of late. i suppose i say that and hope you all think 'no, lindsey, we love you!'; and saying that, i'll go on. i have become minorly obsessed with a few things recently; the one i think i'll tap on about tonight is time. or rather, more accurately, counting. the existence of the phenomenon of continuous counting and why people count to begin with struck me after i covered the three-abe festival. when i was walking that path back to the paper, and noticing just how many pebbles they really do dump on icy sidewalks, i realized i knew exactly how many days (and subsequently weeks) it had been since i met The Boy. and i knew, too, exactly how many days (and subsequently weeks) were left until his return. i knew the day we met, and the day he left, and every day i have talked to him. and that got me thinking further. my roommate has been talking about how she is bored with life and the world, and feels like she is waiting for something to happen, rather than preparing for something to happen. and i, in my shallow understanding of the cosmos, told her i thought the waiting and the preparation for things to happen were inseperable and constant, though i think the waiting, at times, is, in fact, the preparation. and i think perhaps that has something to do with the counting. we count from the day we are born until the day we die; we chronicle each year and event and day, and the more we have, the higher the number gets, the more we have to celebrate. which is a bit odd, it seems, for the higer the number gets, the longer a person has lived, and the less time he has left. the higher the number gets, too, the bigger the celebration, the milestone and the congratulations on another year of waiting gone by. hmm. i don't like waiting. and i really hate counting. but i realize now, too, that i have no choice but to do both, always, until i understand why i have done it for a lifetime. and then i will have prepared, i suppose. two weeks. fourteen days. and then i will begin a new cycle of chronicle of anticipation of celebration of wait for xxx your lou ps. i promise no more spastic posts after this one for a while. pps. i also feel as though i should include that i noticed something at the newspaper yesterday. sitting on the arts and entertainment desk was the bag of my ex-boyfriend. and spilling out of the bag of the ex-boyfriend was tigermilk. the only b&s cd i do not own. and the only b&s cd he has, bought after i lent him iyfs. fuckhead. _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+