(8:39 am)
Fig Newtons!
(8:24 am)
So I was looking in my sister's trunk to see if she had a thing to use to
brush snow off her car, seeing as how it snowed last night, and seeing as
how my car is broken. And the trunk closes on my head.
I think I said something, but I really can't recall what.
Now it hurts to move the topish leftish (leftist!) part of my face. Ow.
Also, again, I hope there is a package for me when I get home.
There was no one at fencing! The one time I go!
So I came home, took generic nyquil, drank a beer, and went to sleep. I kept waking up because it was that nyquil with stuff that makes me feel funny. I woke up at midnight, 2 am, and 4 am. and 6.
My stomach still feels funny.
(2:42 pm)
I hope there's a package for me when I get home.
(10 am)
Can I say how much I am looking forward to days off from work?
I mean, I don't think I can say how much I'm looking forward to it.
Actually, it's not a big deal. People are generally pretty mellow this time of year. At least, people who are calling in.
But. How about this:
I have to drive through Virginia. Twice.
I am so not looking forward to it.
On the other hand, they've been showing Looney Toons for the entire weekend on Cartoon Network, which gives me hope that not everything in the entire world has entirely turned crummy. I'm not sure why 48 hours of cartoons in particular gives me that hope; I mean, the Cartoon Network's entire schtick is that they only show cartoons.
My next theory is that I'm just deluding myself.
With what in particular, I'm not sure.
Blah blah blah, blahblah.
Like, I mean really. What the fuck is so bad with my life that I'm bitching? Seriously. Christ.
Sheesh.
I also need to update the random stuff about steph page. The 1999 version! YEAH, BABY!
I mean, I was out of place. But reeeally out of place.
Anyway.
On the other hand, my wristwatch, broken these like 3 years is back!
Um. Not that I think it compensates, but it's good.
"If God is your co-pilot, switch seats"
Whether it's making a religious statment (if you are going to put a sticker on your bumper about God, why is he your fucking co-pilot?) or a yo-mama type statement (your driving is sooooo bad....), I like it.
That is all.
Went shopping as usual with Greg (heh). It's a girly thing. As girly as I admit to getting in public. Or something. Or not. Either way, we go to Columbia mall and ogle stuff and buy stuff for holiday gift-giving or, at least as often, for ourselves. I actually got most of the confounding shopping done today, though.
Anyway. Not horribly insightful. As usual, Greg wants to be dating someone and I'm not horribly stressed to be single. Though, that seems to be coming up a lot, so maybe being single is getting to me. But yeah complications hum hum blah blah blah.
Blah.
Sucking the life out of me, I tell you.
Honestly, it is not too bad, except I really wish I had slept in later this morning. Urg. 5:30 is not a pretty sight sometimes. Heh.
You'll have to excuse me. I'm still waking up.
(11:50 am)
So, went down to DC on Friday to see a movie. We rode bikes down there,
the Nighthawk (750cc) and the VFR (800cc). I rode with Trey on the way
back. Now, Trey does this driving really fast on his bike thing. We hit
New Hampshire and he started going very fast. I almost lost my grip, and
had a moment where I envisioned myself flying off the back of the
motorcycle, and hitting the road on my ass, then bouncing comically along,
a la Yosemite Sam, until coming to a halt. When, of course, I'd probably
just have been very injured in my assal and backish regions. Which
wouldn't be any fun at all.
But, anyway, I didn't fly off, so it's a moot point.
(12:11)
I want to go back to Canada.
(11:12 am)
I don't know why, but i'm thinking about egg nog.
(9:31 am)
I am filling up my desk with Diet Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper cans.
Unfortunately, they are empty cans. Feh.
(8:47 am)
Unfortunately, this looks like it's going to be a long day. Blah.
At least my hair is still blue.
(11:34 am)
Cybersquat. Squat. S. Q. U. A. T.
Also, there is one thing i think of when i think of my hair at the
moment.
That thing that I think is "damaged". Heh.
Also, I need a QuickCam. That is all there is to it.
And to learn how to spell.
Today is not the day I should've come to work.
Even the sound of laughter is grating on me. UGH.
Ugh. Sick.
But besides that. I now have a computer working and stuff at home. So, like, now's the time to do something productive, like list all the CDs I own. Or something. Wheeoooh!
That explains that hovering sense of doom.
At some point, my thoughts will be interesting again. Really.
And I'm not sure if this counts, but "If You're Feeling Sinister" is oddly compelling. Freaky.
No. No insight.
(3:30 pm)
Foolish heart, hear my waaaaaarning
You've been wrong before, won't be wrong any more!!!
It's the return of painful hold music
(8:13 am)
I'd like to thank all of you without whom I could not be tardy.
And my eyes are a very strange color today. Or maybe it's just the bathroom mirror at work here.
I'm drinking too much soda.
(12:23)
Dang. I have The Who's Baba O'Reilly in my head. It's in a commercial for
a movie, and it's been haunting me all weekend.
I know that's probably not the way The Who spelled O'Reilly, and I feel geekily ashamed. But THOSE DAMN OPENING CHORDS TO THE SONG OH THEY ARE DRIVING ME MAD THEY ARE DRIVING ME CRAAAAYYYY-ZEEEEEE!
Um, yeah. It would be crazy in the good way if I had the CD in my car. (*sniffsniff*)
(10:10 am)
Toga party: Success.
So how much did I owe this parking garage?
One Dollah.
Yes.
That's right
(10:41 am)
Actually, this isn't too bad. I am boggling.
(10:37 am)
Oh golly, I'm on a conference call with Bay Networks.
(9:29 am)
Dammit, I have to get sandals.
(The fortune was "Suppose you can get what you want....", not "You are never misleading, bitter, or petty". So at least it's not outright wrong...)
(10:18 am)
I get the feeling this is going to be a long day. Or, at least, I am going
to be on the phone with this guy for a long, long time.
(9:42 am)
I had a very strange thought last night.
I got a hole put in my ear with something that punched a little hunk of skin out yesterday. It was pretty cool. Unfortunately, it's in the ear that I have been using for the last year to listen to people tell me their leased-line woes. Which means that I can't use that ear at the moment. It's disorienting to be listening out of my right ear. Dang.
The used grounds will fly
Like seven thousand sparrows
Stain their oxford shirts.
What I want to do even more is dye my hair blue. Actually.
But so anyway, I got this way cool jacket over the weekend at a thrift store. I really wish it had the liner, but oh well. It's a suede jacket, and it mostly fits me, only the sleeves are maybe a little long. It smells like a baseball glove. It's soft and suede-y. I'm wondering if it will get fucked up if I get it waterproofed. I have this feeling it will. Dammit.
And even if it doesn't, it should make it easier to get to sleep.
Arg arg.
yes. that is about all.
No, wait:
woohoo!
Heated leather seats are kind of disturbing. Like. Leather. And warm. Not dead. It would be more disturbing if it didn't feel like electric heat, like an electric blanket. Maybe I mean it would be more disturbing if the leather on my seats was of better quality or something. But as it is. It's still kinda funky.
Huh huh, I said "equipment."
(9:42 am)
I just thought of another of the thoughts I was thinking last night.
(hee hee)
This has been the summer of sunburn for me.
Hell, this has been the summer of generally increasing cancer risks for
me. Woo.
(9:20 am)
I have been using the word punchy a lot recently.
I am not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing or um neither.
Let's see what Lynx does with it.
That could almost be haiku.
(11:20 am)
Now it's the Bangles, "If She Knew What She Wants".
Oh, deliver me.
(11:17 am)
On hold with BA-PIT.
The hold music is "Baby, Come Back".
Wearin a mask of false bravado!
Baby come back! Any kinda fool could see!
There was something! In everything about you!
Baby come back! You can blame it all on me!
Any kind of fool can see! I was wrong!
And I just can't live without you!
GAAAAAH PIT PIT PIT, I say.
(11:04 am)
This hold music is horrible. It's a local (to the customer) easy-listening
station, and I just sat through a cover of Buddy Holly's "Every Day" by
James Taylor, only to have the customer hang up on me. Gaaah!
(11:00 am)
So: to do:
* Get leather jacket
* Register misanthropology.org
* Finish reading
* Nap
I'm really disturbed that most of the things that I'm doing these days involves buying things. It's really kinda not cool.
But....at the same time....I really kinda want a leather jacket. Heh.
(9:41 am)
I'm tired.
I have to make my dress for the plastic party.
Whether to sleep or make the dress will be my big decision when I get home today.
I am leaving out the witty commentary. That is how tired I am.
ghoti:~ >whois malcontent.org
No match for "MALCONTENT.ORG".
ghoti:~ >whois misanthropology.org
No match for "MISANTHROPOLOGY.ORG".
(1:11 pm)
I went to CDepot on Saturday, and listened to the new Beautiful South CD.
Erm....I'm not sure what I thought. Also, they didn't have the specific
Housemartins CD I wanted. Dang. I almost bought "Girlfriend" but didn't.
When I bought it with/for my sister, it came with a keychain, which broke
after like 3 years. I want another one.
Hmm.
(8:34 am)
I was clenching my teeth very much last night. I tried to bite down on the
right teeth today, and it hurt very much.
Ow.
Ok, I'm ready to go home, now.
Not that this makes me different from anyone else in the world, but I just felt like saying it. Piss off.
I went to Georgia this weekend to be the pit crew (!!) for a friend who was racing his motorcycle. Luckily, being pit crew entailed helping (when I was there) put his back wheel up on a stand, and, um, timing his laps. Heh.
But so I think I didn't drink enough water the first day. I got kinda dizzy. Bleh.
I went through 2 books over the course of the weekend. One was really good, or, well, at least I enjoyed it. I picked it up randomly, something I rarely do with books I'm paying full price for. It is called "My Year Of Meats". I was finished all but 10 pages when it got too dark to read on Sunday. Argh! I say.
The other was a travellogue-type thing. It started off funny, and that really didn't change. I just disliked the author/the author's voice more and more the farther I got into the book. I was left mainly with the impression of, "Hey, what a ginormous prick this guy is." I think the book was called "The Lost Continent". I don't remember the author at this moment.
So, anyway, why does Virginia have to be such a long state? I mean, really.
Plus, all of the "CRAZY ED'S MILLIONS OF FIREWORKS SHACKS CHEAP GAS CIGARETTES FIREWORKS PEACHES" places in South Carolina were closed on Sunday. Go figure.
Last night, Trey graciously let me dump his bike a few times.
And, no, that's not a euphemism for anything.
Really.
But, so, yeah.
How very something.
Blah blah.
(8:20 am)
So I bought this little make-it-yourself mouthguard because I've been
doing horrible things during the night which make my teeth and jaw hurt
all day.
ohhhhoho yeah.
Anyway. I'm sitting here, drinking some of the worst coffee I've had, outside of coffee from truck stops in the middle of the night in Wyoming. Ugh.
(5:57 pm)
By the way, I was dead right on Monday, about this being a long week.
If you would, please imagine me screaming that at the top of my lungs.
'Preciate it.
(8:20 am)
so. tired.
I was thinking of something else, but I've forgotten.
Yesterday's suck was also good
Oh, and: fucking fuckety fuckfuck.
No. Really.
And. How. To. Use. Dir. In. DOS.
Yes. That. Is. What. I. Love.
(8:32 am)
I just realized it was August.
Goddam.
So I spent Friday moving, eating sushi, then moving some more, then drinking. Then sitting around with my new roommates, talking about guns and motorcycle saddlebags (I think. It was 3:30...).
Then, Saturday, Todd moved my mattress over for me. It was very good to sleep on a bed after sleeping in a slippery sleeping bag on a hardwood floor. I have to say.
Oooh, and Sunday, there was MuchMeat at the fabulous Malibu Grill.
But anyway. I still have unpacking. *&^(%#)*&(^#%$*&#(*& !!!
And. The bee-yew-ti-ful blue (!!) 2002 that is parked in a driveway on my drive to work has its windshield shattered. Tragedy.
So I take a call, and whoever had called had put the call they had into our queue on hold. So I am sitting here listening to "I Put A Spell On You". SIGH
Oh God, shoot me. Now it's "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds". Kill me now, kill me quickly.
The easy thing to do would be to hang up, of course.
Elsewhere, my strengths lie. mmm. Yes.
Or, well, it makes a difference, but more in the sense that I think, "Why am I being such a retard?" a lot more often than I might otherwise.
(8:10 am)
I've been recently rediscovering my loathing of introspection.
My own particular brand, which is rarely actually useful, and usually just old perfectionism bullshit coming through, asking, "What could you have done differently, how could you have made it work. You have obviously screwed up somewhere. You cannot let this go until you figure out how you did it, so you know next time." Which would be fine, except, well, it's just not true. Sometimes, things just fucking happen, and while you could do one thing or 100 to have changed details of the outcome, you, in the way you act and personality-wise, really couldn't've reacted any differently unless you were precogniscient or actually listened to logic rather than the evidence in front of you.
I have discovered that I have an enormous protective ... not quite
instinct, but maybe that's the best word ... tendancy? ... protectiveness
towards the people who mean a shit to me. More of one than I thought.
Also, that being dicked around really really makes me angry.
Being made out to be the fool also makes me very very angry, even if I don't fall for it (but for reasons other than I see I'm being jerked around for someone else's plans).
b.l.a.h.
Even if you know they are not.
Because otherwise, your head may well explode.
What was not cool was the opening band. They sucked. A lot.
What was most interesting about Cracker was that they came on and the whole band at least seemed to be in a good mood. Then, after a few songs, the lead singer looked really annoyed and mad, and was saying things like, "This is one of the big hits, and it's going to sound as fake as we think you are" (at least, that's what I heard). Then they played through some songs that I didn't know, and so must've been off of the newer albums.
Then he perked up a bit, and the last 30 minutes seemed to be having a good time. Plus, he led into "Sweet Home, Alabama" in a really excellent way.
PLUS they played something from FSK's "The Sound of Music", which was most excellent. It was very exciting.
But, yeah, so. Irritated and alienating people who paid to come see you on a horrible July night. But I understand and all. Even.
Stomach grumbling, too:
Teeth clenching with spite and rage.
Tech support at noon.
Arg. My haiku have been in the toilet for weeks.
I mean. Not like literally.
That is all I have to say about that.
Also, I do not have the tolerance I had for alcohol back in college. I need to stop forgetting that.
Which is not to say that it wasn't fun.
Which is kind of strange, to not realize that's why I was thinking I was ashamed to like something when in fact it merely didn't fit that which I see as something I can like or should like.
Oh, yeah, and: WANK WANK WANK.
Anyway, the things I was surprised to like include:
Also, I am in nigh-super-slob mode today.
But I am going to a baseball game tonight.
I finally am getting a hold of a Bentley manual for my car. Unfortunately, it's because my car died an hour outside of Pittsburgh.
Only 2 tow truck companies are allowed to tow on the PA turnpike. Monopoly is a beautiful thing. Think Nynex.
Foo. Ey.
(7:55 am)
Oooh. I left a bottle of water on my desk over the weekend, and the
condensation on the inside (or whatever it is) formed away from my
monitor. Mmmmmradiation.
So it was pretty pathetic on Saturday, sitting around, doing the self-absorbtion thing, getting still yet more pathetic until we come to the most self-pitying part, where probably just to make myself feel worse, I started thinking: what if this is as good as it gets? Of course, while at the time I did realize it was pathetic (and even embarassing to admit, even given that this was from special time dedicated to self-pity--and it's kind of strange that during the self-pity, I was trying to make myself feel worse, but that's a whole nother thing that needs not getting into), thinking it mindlessly did help with the whole empty catharsis thing (....at least a little).
But on Monday morning, after a couple of less self-pitying hours to think about it (and this includes the hours during which I ended up flushing my contact lenses down the toilet), while driving to work, without even really thinking about it, part of my mind that is tired of this bullshit answered that if this is as good as it gets, then it's your own damn sad sorry fault.
And that's the way the morning has been.
Did I mention I've been in a really foul mood since um like Saturday?
There you go.
The worst part about it is that I'm in this horrible mood, and it's stupid, but knowing that it's stupid isn't helping with giving up being in a bad mood. Because even though i know I'm being stupid, these things are still pissing me off, and making an effort to get over being mad feels like a loss.
Told you it was stupid.
Maybe.....Taco Bell!
No, no, not that.
So you think you're in love/well, you probably ain'tWhere I got the idea that there was, I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure there should be line like that in the song, though. Pfeh.
Saturday was a listen to baseball and drink beer kind of day.
Yesterday was a day of thinking about how there's no limit to the amount
you can delude yourself. And this was thinking not just about me.
Exciting.
Thank you, that is all.
Mmmmm-hmmmm.
(11:00 am)
Asking someone who knows makes all the difference (in other words, thanks,
Noah).
And so I got my hair cut last weekend, as well. It looked about right for the first time since then this morning. Bleh. I think it was because I slept on it.
Give me insert and command modes.
There really is no good diplomatic way to tell someone you don't trust them, is there....
Didn't think so.
oh well.
It wasn't so much that the zombies were evil, just had this mission to zombify everyt hing.
On a completely unrelated note, I need to get new contacts.
(12:40)
I have to wonder why the hell it's been so busy at work of late.
And to that, I have to say, I don't really care, and I would like to go on
a vacation
.
Helpful, no?
And by the way I still hate pico.
I don't really have anything insightful, other than I'd like to go to
lunch.
And be away from other people for a while. Whe-e-e-e. E-e.
I have several thoughts, but they all sound really pretentious and/or
stupid.
I think it's the irritation getting to me. The irritation of, say, people
falling asl
eep or
constantly talking at work. But hey. Whatever.
Where whatever is an attempt to forget how much this slackness irritates
me.
Yoinks.
Judy said that she also woke up thinking that on Saturday.
Arg.
And in case you were wondering, I'm feeling pretty ill today. Otherwise, there'd be a much more involved rant about Scott Adams and Dilbert and why I become more and more convi nced that everything (well, almost everything) becomes a crock of shit.
(11:30 am)
I bought a car on Sunday. Unfortunately, it's not the pimpmobile I was
considering fo
r
a while, but a 1993 Saab 900S, black, 88K miles.
On Saturday, I saw a Mercedes SLK with the tags, "NO TAGS". Judy thought I should get custom plates that say "CAR". I think that if I get custom plates, they will read
CAAR
I know it's pretentious and wrong, but I am not sure I can resist...
Anyway, it's a rockin car, and I am waiting to take delivery. It still has some work to be done on it. Unfortunately, it has leather upholstery, but, after I drove it, I figure d I could learn to live with it...
ps the car I thought I might have found on the 21st is indeed this car.
I am aware of exactly how wrong that is, but um....like, it's
not actually
that bad.
Scary
Damn.
(~1-something pm)
Go see The Faculty. Go now.
BWahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! ha! ha ha!
In other exciting news, I had off on Monday. Wooooooo-ee!
Exciting, I'm sure.
3rd cup of coffee.
Believe it or not, I'm feeling incredibly grouchy at the moment. Wheeeeeee!
(10:41 am)
Oh, yeah, and, from the bottom of my greedy little heart:
(8:22 am)
Though I can't feel all bad when I have coffee and am listening to a
good CD.
(Wasteland, The Jam. Though I still think I like Sound Affects better..
..)
(7:58 am)
I had this bad dream where I was cold, wet, tired, in the dark, left for
dead, then
killed
and eaten.
That about sums it up. Woohoo! Second cup of coffee!
(1:38 am)
And anyone who says something about enriching one's life through asking
oneself the meaningful questions blah blah blah can get stuffed. I am
in fact asking questions I am not sure are pointful (meaningful is
another thing, but if the question has no point, does it have meaning?),
BUT, as an extra bonus, my trains of thought are not leading to
meaningful, insightful, self-knowing answers. Or. Um. Maybe that is
self-knowing, but it's not exactly HELPING.
Main point being, my life is not being enriched, just mired down further, and frankly, I'm getting pretty tired of it right now. I do not need to be a) composing self-righteous speeches (that will never be delivered) in my head b) asking large stupid leading questions of myself that lead to these oratorical nightma res c) losing any more goddamn sleep.
I could go on, but I will leave it at that for now, thankyouverymuch.
(1:20 am)
Wow, that sure is a lot easier to type...1-9-9-9.
I would like to cash in some of the time I have spent in the past week
or two thinking about large, pointless issues for sleep.
Thank you, thank you very much.