coming to a theatre near you.

hey butterfly, where you from?
why do you look so glum?
your pretty eyes are on the ground.

Today was lovely poetry club with strawberry frosted brownies, which I still have several of to share with parents at home. I ended up reading us Rime of the Ancient Mariner because I found a copy of it under Nicole's desk in psychology.. I didn't know what it was at first but we figured it out afterwards. Weird. It really lightened my mood, as today was kind of a shitWednesday. Like, shitWednesday v.1.1.9.3. I downloaded the patch.

Things can only get better from today though! Nicole's dinner party is Saturday for which I will likely get to bake some tasty bread. Sadness though, as I was going to invite Emily but she'll be in San An.

I shined my boots today. That really doesn't make them shiny--the leather is way too beat up--but they're black and bootsy again. I put new soles in them too. Beautiful. I love my boots. I also gave my trenchcoat some much-needed attention, re-attaching buttons and hand-stitching the pocket back together, as well as cleaning it up some. I also think I'm going to begin an embroidery project on this navy blazer I've got. If it's actually something I see through to its finish, I'm going to stitch roses and stars and neat things on it and it'll be all color-tastic. I've got wonderfully colorful embroidery thread.

I put this on the poetry club lj, but since not everyone reads that, it will go here as well. I really don't write much poetry; poetry club is half a good excuse to bake things every week and half a great excuse to see people, but occasionally I come up with something:

not really any need to worry,
tomorrow morning there'll be sunshine and waffles.
it all comes together
even if it rains, love.

when your feet feel like rusted metal,
and your legs are sore as life,
it's still good.
keep on walkin'. faster.

and sometimes when you feel like givin' up,
buy a pack of buttons for your old coat.
the renewal of that friend
will be your own.

'cause you cares if you don't get what you tried for?
man, when you come short of it all
and feel like you've failed,
you still breathe.

I felt like writing a poem today (one not about food) but didn't really have a central idea, so I just took a few recent events--waffles in the morning, sore-as-hell feet/legs, hand-stitching the pocket on my trenchcoat back together and putting the buttons back on--and joined them under one theme.