Grass is Greener
C.A. MacConnell
2/24/2018
Photo: Dark Horse
Dark Horse
This guy lives in a quite expansive yard along a walk route I frequent. Sometimes I talk about my walk routes like they're necessary for the survival of the globe. Indeed. So I call this horse Sam. Not sure what his real name is, but he's lovely and regal, and he seems to like the name. Part draft, and I'd tell you the breed, but I don't want to brag about my extensive -- so far unmatched -- horse knowledge. Joking, there are plenty of experts who surpass my level of expertise. Well, maybe one. So Sam likes me. Not once has he taken a shit when I'm around. Now that's love, when it comes to horses.
I think he has a crush on me, to tell you the truth.
Hope you dig the photo. I love the shot. Reminds me to keep on truckin', fuck the haters, that kind of thing.
It's almost five a.m. here.
So I'm attempting to get into an upcoming workshop that takes place down south this summer...applied and waiting. Wish me luck. Should give me a leg up on getting this third book out there, if I get in and get a scholarship. :) Dayum.
I'm hungry. Time for brekkie.
At the quickie mart, people were talking about dimples and "booty" chins. I don't have either. What is something interesting and unique about you? I have a small, horizontal scar on my nose. When I was little, my brother was chasing me around the den, and I fell face first on the fireplace. Then, later, before bed, Mom told me not to mess with the stitches under any circumstances. So what did I do when she left the room?
I pulled out all of the stitches.
That right there sums up the entire reason why I've been in therapy for 18 years.
Well, I hope Wes Anderson comes to visit me at the coffee shop today. That would rock, because I've been waiting a long time. I'd say, "Wes, where the hell have you been? I wrote you a query letter on my blog years ago, and I've been waiting all this time." I'd act annoyed and nonchalant, all the while conveying my mood with extremely subtle facial expressions.
I aim to be in one of his films one day. Just me, C.A., obsessively speed walking in the background, a cameo. No lines, except I may say a few words to the chicken who walks beside me on a leash.
C.A. MacConnell
