taxing.

so i've been waiting for my turbo-tax to save my W-2 info. for like ten minutes now, and all I keep thinking is that someone over at turbo-tax central is on the phone with the IRS reporting me for some miniscule mistake, reporting it to someone named Bob, someone for whom miniscule mistakes is lifeblood, and the punishment he gets to levy on the offender is the sole source of all his joy.

no. seriously. 15 minutes. wtf?

i think i'm a fan of hand building. i have no grace with it really, but i love all that mess of clay between fingers, love the awkwardness of it, and that as you work it both your hands and the clay is changed. made tougher by the encounter. seriously though -- no grace with it at all.

i'm also a fan of dancing in the car. i'm a fan of it because of these brief silly connections with passersby, when they'll throw up their hands and wiggle their backends and we're all just having fun. i like to think that their day acquires a kind of glow because of this mutual stranger dancing, that they're nicer to their server, or put a nickel in some benevolent jar. i like to think that ridiculous girations of the body can cause lasting impressions of happiness.

errrr, i'll climb down off my rainbow now.