Sunday, December 24, 2000

I've got a paintbrush in my hair...

I'm actually starting to care about football, and I'm making dinner for my family. What a strange day.

Granted, dinner only had 3 ingredients. And Mom helped.

And granted, I'm painting ceramics, not oils or anything.

Nothing to grant about the football liking. That's just whack.

Saturday, December 23, 2000

In case any of you had a high opinion of me...

"Home Alone" makes me laugh. Hehehehe...

Well, although I swore that I'd never ever ever work there ever again ever, tonight I heard that one of the cool ladies who used to work there but moved to California is moving back and starting after the first of next year. Whee! Yea!

Well, being home is almost over. And now it looks like I might actually be getting back before my Other. Huh.

Wednesday, December 20, 2000

Winter damns all things electronic to ineptitude.

Time crawls, but because it leads to my love, I am resigned to follow it.

I watched _Magnolia_ tonight. In case you're not paying all that much attention, I'll just let you know that I am seeking to dull the slicing edge of my lonliness with movies that I've been wanting to see for a while. About _Magnolia_: Phil kicked ass. Long movie. Deeper Biblical meanings lost on pagans like me.

Sunday, December 17, 2000

so I just finished reading

A Clockwork Orange, and its language is in my head, and I kept trying to use words like "veck" and "von" and "slooshy" in Scrabble. but they don't work.
*gasp*... **wheeze**... need... creative... outlet...

Well, family time took all of a day to descend into general hatred, bitterness, and dissent. La la la. Really not enjoying being home. Haven't heard from *anyone*, the weather and my car's broken heater prevent escape, and I don't have anywhere comfortable to hang out without being in public (read: around one or more of my family members.) Fucking marvelous.

My other's supposed to fly in tonight. To his home, not mine. Perfect day for air travel in the midwest, I'd say.

Not feelin any e-mail love, people. NO LOVE.

Got e-mailed fightin' words masked in a tight-lipped smile and 400 miles... Responded rather cooly, but with no fightin. Bloody hell. Why does it always have to be this way?
I started my new journal last night while Mom was on the phone with her sister, who called 4 minutes after her (Mom's) birthday had ended. Wrote a lot, finally. Have even more to say today it seems, but the words that will come out later are all tragic and depressing and not really any big revelations - just the progression of this funny life I'm stuck in that I hadn't seen beforehand, but it makes too much sense and is too obviously obvious... But still sad. And I'm not even talking to anyone anymore, not e'en myself, really, just my journal. My journal now, not me in the future, because someday I won't care because I'll have a minivan to get to the repair shop and errands to run and soaps to catch and meals to cook.
Sometimes I get sad just about how much of life is transient work - laundry, cooking, shoveling sidewalks and driveways... It's here, it's now, it's so limited and infinite together, which is annoying and frightening. Einstein folded socks. Everybody folds socks. Or at least puts them in the washing machine. And then I think about what I want to do, and the things that I would value would get lost in some fucking rigamarole over tenure or publishing or whatever else adults who try to stay idealistic have to deal with. They get lost in the schema of the sock-folding.

but i don't wanna fold socks

i don't wanna pay to have my socks folded, because i'll have enough trouble paying to fill my stomach

guess i'll go sockless.

It's snowing outside. Hard. And the wind is coming through the not-well-sealed back door, and since my mattresses are gone I have to sleep where the wind whistles and where the cat can walk on my head.

Saturday, December 16, 2000

Today was boring. Work hours c r a w l e d past. It sucked. And there's nobody around - who's bothering to call me back, anyhow - and I spent a couple soulless hours wandering through the mall, purchasing things. Things things things. To bestow upon people on Christmas. And I'm alone, in the spiritually global applied locally sense.

Hrm... Rented American Beauty tonight. Every person I've talked to live said it sucked, and every review I read said it was great. I think it's funny so far. Is there really something so tangible that separates people like this? Some quality? How odd.

Thursday, December 14, 2000

I came back to Indiana tonight. The drive was blissful... foggy, and the roads were clear, and in the middle of a construction zone my left contact begged for an emergency removal. Fun. I got lost in thought almost the entire way home. Can't remember what those thoughts were, but they were probably deep. Rest assured.

Oddly enough, this break seemed to have come out of nowhere, whereas usually it's a point that's looked forward to as a rest and some weird sort of anti-school salvation. Now it's rather sad. Sad to be apart for the holidays. Apart and together, depending on who you are I guess.

It's back to the grind tomorrow at 9. Greeeeaaaaat. I can't tell you how happy I am about this.

Wednesday, December 13, 2000

I'm siiiiick. Blegh. At least my temperature's down from last night. I thought my face was going to burst into flames.

On top of that, it's snowing here (still) and through most of Ohio, apparently, which worries me because my loved one & co. are on the road. And I'll be on the road tomorrow, and my loved one (sans co.) will be in the air. Maybe. That or we'll both be sitting at the airport.

This is a boring post. Sorry. Maybe merrier later.

Tuesday, December 12, 2000

Okay... I know that I should be amazed that, in the first place, I can hear something that anything alive on this earth had time to craft and sell the instruments for, and the genius to put together in a rhythmic sort of order and then take the time and technology to record, and that I don't have to fly to Europe to hear this, and that I can get it *in my very own bedroom* using *the phone line* and *I don't even have to pay for it*... but nonetheless, the sample tracks sound like they were recorded in the bathroom of a gas station.
So, okay, if *anyone* out there might know where I could get my hands on a tape of that old Sesame Street classic, "There's A Bird On Me," I would be eternally grateful if you would let me know.

That's all. :)

Monday, December 11, 2000

So last night we sat down, guitars in hand, and tried to talk. We ended up picking out Mazzy Star then Nirvana tunes using my ear and his knowledge of about 7 times the number of chords that I know... It was fun, and distracting, but I guess it didn't pull us back together enough to land us where we once were. It has rained all day today, and I worked in the freezing warehouse trying not to think about how much I was inhaling the plastic fumes from the shrinkwrap machine that are at this moment probably giving me cancer. Thought instead about how we parted on slightly bad terms (bad/frigid) this morning, though I came home to another shot. We take breaks, from each other, and float back to the top... but as soon as we're back together, the air starts leaking out of our little life raft of civility. We take turns causing the sinking. [Mental image: one of us furiously stabbing the floor of the bobbing bright yellow raft with a steak knife.]

Transcending the boundaries of normal human relationships is difficult.

Whee! The first and most (extremely) likely best grade has just been reported to me by my kind philosophy professor: A-. We both knew my paper stunk, (STUNK) but I guess I aced the final. Sa-weet.
***note*** I have to gloat about this grade because my other two are bound to be embarrassingly low.

I have found that I like some blog titles better than the actual corresponding blogs. Hum... And seeing the obvious default page disappoints me, even though it's pretty much a lot better than my own crappy from scratch layout. Perhaps it disappoints me because it's so close to my own layout... except, hey, hey, I have 3 columns. Three. Ha.

Sunday, December 10, 2000

Well, this file I'm downloading is about thirty baskillion bites, apparently. Had I known it'd take this long, I wouldn't have started it. But now I'm convinced that if I stop, it will be right before it was about to be finished. It's taking up our phone line. I'm impatient to make a call and get out of here to a more company-filled destination - weeehooo, it's done! Aloha, suckers!
Much as I hate to admit it, Malcom in the Middle kicks arse.
Little suicide wax guy isn't going to stop until he's broken! (dead.)
Hey, if you have time to drop me a quick e-mail, will you answer this question?: Does this page appear to you with a purple or white background, and what browser do you use? e-mail. C'mon, it'll be good net karma.
Well. Someone needs to remind me that the amount of money I'm spending needs to be at least in the ballpark of the amount of money I think I should be making.

I wanna be someone else... just for a day...

Friday, December 08, 2000

Word. My roomies and I (kinda) had a dinner party tonight. Saw some old acquaintance/friend type people from last year, which was nice.

It's been a rather discombobulated week. Finals... work... transcending the normal boundaries of human relationships... you know. And I haven't finished up this journal. Usually I hit a nice break in my stride during which to transfer my flow of consciouness from one composition book to another, but this time it'll just be a whammo kind of thing. I've barely written all week, and as a result, it feels almost as though I didn't live it. It's just gone. The fear of losing the past like I've lost this week keeps me returning to those identical blank pages. This will be book #8. (Not counting a steno pad and two store-bought "journal" journals that housed my brain for about a year and a half.)

So anyhow. Blah? Blah.

Tuesday, December 05, 2000

Whee! Not worse than before!

*****PLEASE NOTE*****

chances are, if you're hitting my blog at the moment at which it looks more fucked up than usual, it doesn't... usually look like this. Wow, that was profound. Anyhow, the way I learn the html skills I need to do stuff w/my blog is to hack around until it looks right. So I apologize if this is incredibly screwed up at the moment. Check back tomorrow, and if I haven't improved it, it will at least be back to "normal."


On Saturday at 6:25am my boss, the hip one for whom the baby shower previously mentioned was, had a baby girl. That kid's going to kick serious ass.

Yesterday was a good day. Solid. It's working out, knock on wood.

Well, that Linguistics exam was a joke. (On me.) Ouch.

I'm going to go screw up my blog a lil more. Buh-bye.

Monday, December 04, 2000

Hellooooo. Things, things have changed since we last talked. The flux is fluxin' like mad, like it's it's job, but everything will settle down here soon, god I hope... Maybe now that we really mean it...

It's funny how everything's so hard but you have to just keep trying.

This is supposed to be a happy entry, despite its mournful tone. Happy happy happy. Today - I am happy. Today I get to set up shop in a new journal. (Real world, not online.) It's going to be college-ruled. A Mead Composition Notebook that is *college ruled.* How cool is that? Weehoo!

Tin and I are back to hatin' the world together. Back where we belong. Thank god. It was almost a year. It hurt. Now it's good. Happy happy.

Sunday, December 03, 2000

"I've given you everything I could - everything I had. I'm dry, except for tears, which you will *never* see. You know all that I am, you know what I'm not and you hate me for what I lack. I know. I try. But now you have to decide, fucking *decide* already, and let me move on. But if you promise, once you promise, you can never do this again." -M.J.

Phew. Day without weblogs saved my Linguistics report. It would never have gotten finished if I'd been allowed to blog. I stayed up all night and as it was I finished it during the first 15 minutes of class.

So I drove home Friday night, after taking a pit stop for sleep and what I thought was affectionate behavior. (Note to self: pity ~= affection.) Silly me. Now I'm going to go intentionally confuse new possesions with happiness and try to look badass and sexy and depressed.

"Negotiations and love songs are often mistaken for one and the same..." -Paul Simon

Friday, December 01, 2000

aaahhh, i don't know w/the time zones if it's technically dec 1, but today no weblogs for meeeeeeee.... (a day w/o weblogs.)