Poetry n stuff
Oct. 17th, 2004 10:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charliesmumTaken from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
camwyn
When you see this, post a bit of poetry in your own journal.
"Oh, Rose!
Thou art sick.
The invisible worm
that flies in the night
in the howling storm
has sought out thy bed
of crimson joy
and with his dark love
does thy life
destroy."
Keats. The Rose, or something. Can't remember the title. Wrote it from memory so I may have missed a bit.
Job. Good. Busy. Have my own office. V. Cool. Fortunately the person before me set the bar rather low, so I don't have that much to live up to. Pretty much anything I do, apparently, is going to be an improvement.
Also got my own laptop. Feel like such a grown up. This is the first company I've ever been with that is actually really up-to-date with equipment. Everything is new. or new-ish. Windows XP, Outlook 2003, cool, streamlined lap-tops. Wireless, remote access to the network. It's dead cool, really.
I promise one of these days really soon I am going to visit everyone's journals and make sure all is well in your lives. Meanwhile, it's Sunday morning, I just got out of the shower and am sitting at my computer in my robe, and my hair is still wet. So I'd better go.
One funny thing first though. Yesterday Charlie and I went pumpkin picking with his friend Devon and his mommies, and on the way back we stopped at a diner. English was the waiter's second language, which would have been fine, except he was really rather rude, causing a few comments among us. The food took forever to arrive, and Charlie was getting hungrier and hungrier. He kept asking where the food was. Our waiter had stopped by the table with another drink, and as he walked away, Charlie looked after him with an expression of exasperation on his face and asked, "Why is that man so dumb?"
Which was innapropriate and rude and I told him so as soon as I could stop laughing.
camwynWhen you see this, post a bit of poetry in your own journal.
"Oh, Rose!
Thou art sick.
The invisible worm
that flies in the night
in the howling storm
has sought out thy bed
of crimson joy
and with his dark love
does thy life
destroy."
Keats. The Rose, or something. Can't remember the title. Wrote it from memory so I may have missed a bit.
Job. Good. Busy. Have my own office. V. Cool. Fortunately the person before me set the bar rather low, so I don't have that much to live up to. Pretty much anything I do, apparently, is going to be an improvement.
Also got my own laptop. Feel like such a grown up. This is the first company I've ever been with that is actually really up-to-date with equipment. Everything is new. or new-ish. Windows XP, Outlook 2003, cool, streamlined lap-tops. Wireless, remote access to the network. It's dead cool, really.
I promise one of these days really soon I am going to visit everyone's journals and make sure all is well in your lives. Meanwhile, it's Sunday morning, I just got out of the shower and am sitting at my computer in my robe, and my hair is still wet. So I'd better go.
One funny thing first though. Yesterday Charlie and I went pumpkin picking with his friend Devon and his mommies, and on the way back we stopped at a diner. English was the waiter's second language, which would have been fine, except he was really rather rude, causing a few comments among us. The food took forever to arrive, and Charlie was getting hungrier and hungrier. He kept asking where the food was. Our waiter had stopped by the table with another drink, and as he walked away, Charlie looked after him with an expression of exasperation on his face and asked, "Why is that man so dumb?"
Which was innapropriate and rude and I told him so as soon as I could stop laughing.