Thursday, 6 December 2007

Houmous has a lot of O's and U's in it

Tonight I’m wine drunk. It’s a good kind of drunk. I’m still in control of all my faculties, but I feel like dancing and singing. I should drink wine more often. Sometimes I really like to listen to a song on repeat. I am doing that right now. The song has a double bass in it, that makes me feel like I am in the ’50’s, and I am at some secret dance hall out in the woods somewhere. My housemate is obsessed with the ’50’s, and I really wish he was in right now. I would probably have a lot to talk to him about. And I would enjoy the weird jazz he listens to. I hear it extra loud when I go into the bathroom, or when I stand in the corridor outside our rooms. The jazz he listens to doesn’t really have the same feel as this, though. He listens to the drum type of jazz. It is not great. But I would probably think it was right now, if he were to play it loud enough.

I went on a work’s night out tonight. I like the people I work with. We got a bottle of wine each, with our meals. The food was okay but not great, although the houmous was amazing. The houmous made my night. When I look at the letters in the word “houmous”, it’s reminds me of a set of letters I have in one of my Scrabulous games. So now I am wondering if I have any available M’s. I am not going to do any more Scrabulous tonight, though.

There is a line in the song that I am listening to that goes,

“I found a woman who’s soft but she’s also hard. While I slept she nailed down my heart.”

It’s a good line. I am trying to imagine nailing down someone’s heart, metaphorically. Would it mean that they couldn’t move in the morning? Would it mean that the nailer is in control? All I can think of is a massive long nail. Six inches, I think. It’d still get lost somewhere in the ribs or the shoulder-blade, if it even passed through. It’d have to be something like a ten inch nail to do the job properly. But then, it’s not actually meant to kill. I’m getting away from the subject, because it’s meant to be a metaphor anyway.

I want to write a story about hearts and nails and secret dance halls in the woods. But now it feels like those themes would be a Tori Amos song or even album, which is not what I am going for, even though I don’t have anything against Tori Amos, per se.

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