Monday, April 30, 2001


Link ganked from: And I agree with what she has to say. The article is about the happy laptop hugging top o' the heap overworked-but-don't-seem-to-mind Princeton students who are someday going to beat people like me out of corporate jobs, if they actually exist as described. (The students, not the jobs. Did you know that Gaelic has a syntactic system that avoids the ambiguity of such sentences as that one? The word "they" in the last clause would carry a marker specifying which noun it pro-s for. Cool, eh? The fact that I learned that recently is very closely tied with the reason that these people will be beating me out of corporate jobs. I decided to learn stuff like that rather than how to write a business plan or use colors in a television commercial that will make people more desirous of the product of the company that I happen to be whoring my mind out to.) Ha, as if I'd ever even apply for one of those jobs.

My father would be so proud to read this. Oh, no, wait a minute...

Sunday, April 29, 2001

So I'm sitting there sewing, and it hits me:

We live in a country where a game show that gives away hundreds of thousands of dollars to people with decent jobs and cable for answering questions about pop culture and the commonly-known intracacies of the English language, while over half the world slaves to feed our Pavlovian-instilled desires for expensive tennis shoes, cushy toilet paper and glossy pictures of half-naked half-starved androgynous women in magazines designed to hock frivolous shit to a frivolous nation.

How fucking sick is that?

Saturday, April 28, 2001

Damn, doo,

I'm tired.

Bolivia and Paraguay are the two landlocked countries in South America. Remember that.

Friday, April 27, 2001

Whored my labor out

to the Man today. I'm just a cog in the wheel, man, a cog in the wheel.

Everything's still contingent, everything's still confused and blurry, and everything's going by so quickly these days.

Thursday, April 26, 2001

It's as if God

announced a contest between the days of the last week to see which day could make my life suck the worst. Today is winning. Although yesterday threw some pretty mean punches.

Saturday, April 21st: Enormous fight with sig. other, coupled with enough estrogen to make Mr. T, upon seeing an old dog, weep like a newborn babe.
Sunday, April 22nd: Continuation of enormous fight, other baggage dragged in and used to beat both parties over the head, with enough estrogen to make Mr. T, upon realizing that he forgot his new pack of gum, weep like a newborn babe.
Monday, April 23rd: Familial pestering for favors, realization that I'm a whole hell of a lot broker than I thought, in a really terrible and consequential way.
Tuesday, April 24th: Bad grade (well, a B) on philosophy paper. Cancellation of an appointment that I'd been looking forward to. Realization that finding an apartment that lets tenants have a dog (even a small one) is going to be HARD. Grandmother obsessing over weekend family visit. Reassurance offered.
Wednesday, April 25th: Paper turned in having almost nothing to do with question asked. Happy e-mail from old friend. Sad dog movie seen (for which tickets were won by virtue of sig. oth's intricate knowledge of writers of scripts of old noir films) and disliked intensely. Not only bad movie, bad experience. (Amor es Perritos - Love's a Bitch.) Potential lead on apartment. Deposit required for dog, which means dog is allowed. Phone message from mother - grandfather has had minor stroke.
Thursday, April 26th: Interview for job I've already had for almost a year. (They interview everyone every year.) Interview goes well: "Well let you know by May 14th that you've gotten the job." Phew. Girl found to sublease hems, haws, and backs out. Ground Zero? Probably. Can't find receipt for $50 potentially reimbursable cab ride.

I can't keep track of all this.

Wednesday, April 25, 2001

Oh yeah. Went to see Memento, and it's definitely worth a watch, and once I got the semblance of figuring it out, I decided that the people who've reviewed it have, for the most part, misunderstood it. Go see it and then tell me what you think of it.

For those who haven't heard of it, here's the hook: A guy (and not a bad looking guy) is avenging the murder of his wife, who was raped and murdered. He, during her attack, got a head injury and has a condition in which he forgets everything he experiences or learns in fifteen minutes. He has facts tattooed all over his body to remember them and has to write everything down that's important for finding her killer. And the whole story is told backwards.

It's marvelous. Go see it.

I am to be writing

a 3-5 page paper about the authoratativeness of dictionaries. I am in the second paragraph of the third page, and have not mentioned the word "dictionary" yet, or anything even remotely related to word-books for that matter. Hmm.

Sunday, April 22, 2001

Riots, riots everywhere-

Lucky am I, their non-witness. Apparently 27 people were arrested. Wish they'd gotten more. Assholes.

Thursday, April 19, 2001

As I was parking my car yesterday

I this cat ran across the street ahead of me. Then, when I went to get my car last night, the same cat ran in front of me headed in the other direction, only this time she was limping. I thought about stopping to see if she was okay, but it would take me forever to do so because I'd have to go once around the block and find somewhere else to park. So I went home. Last night, around 9:30, I decided that I'd better go look for her. I found her behind the houses that line the street I'd seen her on. She ran under a car, then, once I'd backed away, came out to sniff the plastic cup I'd picked up and tried to lure her out from her hiding spot with. Then she went back under the car and I lost track of her. The next hour was spent looking.
I found her again this morning. In the light I noticed that she's a kitten and that she has a *huge* stomach (not a good sign). I left her some tuna, which was gone when I went back there after classes. Now I have a ton of work to do before 5:30, so I should go. I'm going to look for her again after class. I'd like to take her in for a bit, get her to the vet, and try to foist her upon my family. Because what my family needs is another cat.

Wednesday, April 18, 2001

Word of the day:


Close Second:

Tuesday, April 17, 2001

It was 83F last week,

and it's snowing today. Rrrr.

Well, let's see... Easter was a disaster, classes both yesterday and today were beyond mind-numbingly boring, and yesterday one of my roommate's coworkers walked into work and said "do you know of anyone who wants to sublet for the summer?" And indeed she did. Me. I AM SO FUCKING HAPPY WHEN I KNOW I SHOULD BE PATIENT AND MAKE SURE THIS WORKS OUT BUT INSTEAD I'M GETTING MY HOPES UP AND THINKING ABOUT MOVING IN WITH MY OTHER AND GETTING A DOG WOOOOHOOOOOO! So, as soon as I can lure my roommate's friend into signing something saying she'll sublet my third of this apartment, I'm home free, baby. Home free!

As for my story, if it were a person I'd have to sit her down and tell her that I need some alone-time. Instead I put a bunch of books on top of all the copies and am ignoring her.

Friday, April 13, 2001

Man, I should *not* find this as funny as I do... Oh well...

Getting your car towed by the city

a second time is a much less harrying experience than getting your car towed by the city the first time. Trust me, I know.

The class workshopped my story yesterday. Notice how I haven't killed myself. It was a lot nicer than a lot of the workshops that I've witnessed. The Head Bitch actually defended some of the things in my story that the Prof wanted gone, much to my astonishment. Anyhow, it's back to work on the old story-o for some much-needed revision.

I'm thinking about making a t-shirt that says "You are not monkeys" on the front and "fight the man" on the back with iron-on fuzzy letters.

Wednesday, April 11, 2001

The next person who tells me to

"work like I don't need the money, love like I've never been hurt, and to dance like no one's watching" is gonna get such a forking.
AND I worked an extra 45 minutes to make up for it. Okay, 30 minutes...

The Sweatshop Protest Spilled

out onto the South Oval, right outside our classroom. Our windows were open, so the incomprehensible yells plagued the classroom the entire period. That, combined with the most boring class to date, made me incredibly nervous after about an hour and a half. All I want is silence, but everything around here is noise noise noise. Think about it - taking into account white noise, when's the last time you were surrounded by complete and utter silence? And to top everything off, I'm sitting in my slightly more quiet apartment, when the most evil truck in the world, the ice cream truck, comes up my street, jingling a nameless little tune from everyone's childhood that is now in my head.

I was 45 minutes late to work today. Nobody noticed. 45 minutes! This shouldn't make me hate my job even more than I already do - it should make me happy because it means that I have the easiest job in the world and could totally take advantage of it. Instead, I'm insulted.

Tuesday, April 10, 2001

Well, my story is finished. For now. The class gets to rip it to bloody pieces with their fangs of pretention and heartlesness on Thursday.

All of my classes now pretty much blow. I dread going to two of them, and probably actually three, depending on how I end up liking this writing class. I don't think much of the people in it, needless to say. They seem pretty cruel. I will refrain from saying the remaining philosophy class blows, because I really like the prof. But so much of the material gets convoluted by people who don't really understand it yet, but don't think that comprehension is a prerequisite for criticism. Silly me, I do.

Monday, April 09, 2001

Hey, I'm in the presence of the famed "Boban," who our new cat is named after. What a coincidence. My brother would drive 3.5 hours to murder me if he knew that I had been in his presence and didn't get his autograph. Hehehe, oh well.

I'm also technically at work. But the 4th floor is even hotter than the 3rd floor, which is where I am. 83 degrees in April doesn't bode well when the Man doesn't turn on the AC until May. Mmm, global warming.

Saturday, April 07, 2001

Well, with spring come riots. Seems that the rabble was quite calm last night, though. I saw no burned remnants of couches and no more broken glass than usual. Whoopee for last night, but it's Saturday now and they may have just been resting up and carbo-loading for the big night.

I have three papers due this week. Yipes.

Wednesday, April 04, 2001

Well, that could've been really bad, but I didn't panic and it resolved itself. I was, one could say, eerily calm. And I retraced my steps and found the keys in the last place I would've looked before panicking. Yea for aversion of disaster.
What else can I be strangely calm about today? Perhaps that was a portent...

Tuesday, April 03, 2001

Today's topic: the wax grocery stores and fruit sellers put on fruit to make it look shiny (unnatural) and for some reason appealing.

When I first heard about this, I heard that it was Ralph Nader's first big cause. Actually, I had been asking about Ralph Nader himself, but that came as part of the answer. So I figured that that sort of thing had stopped. Apparently it hasn't. Try peeling a storebought orange with your bare hands. It's nasty.
One of my sources says that he has found that the green peppers from Meijer's are absolutely nasty to try to cook, because all the wax melts off and mixes with the rest of the food, and that they put both wax and space shuttle fuel on fruit. The space shuttle fuel has been fought against, and I have no info other than this hearsay, but what the hell? I guess I just figure that they stop once people figure out that it's all an illusion, but disturbing further consideration indicates otherwise. Sellers haven't stopped saying $1.99 instead of $2, so apparently even though we know that they're doing this just to be shady and get us to buy more, it still works. That's fucking disturbing, people, think about it. I wish I didn't need anything (in the nourishment/vital life functions sense). I'd go on a big fucking strike.

I bet apples aren't even red, and they color them so they catch people's attention. Bah.

Getting up this early blows, but I'm actually wide awake and functional. Work will probably bore me to sleep. In the words of a severly unknown funk star, "somebody better cool me down..."

I had a conversation with the voice in my head this morning, who has proven quite knowledgeable and friendly as the local phone operator. "Devil's Haircut" is in my head, and I don't know all the words, so it's a nonsensically spliced version with about one line from each verse. Orange juice probably doesn't have caffeine in it, so I should be crashing here in a few minutes. Wheeee...

Monday, April 02, 2001

Oh, yeah, cleaning out my e-mail box today made me realize that we are not nearly creative enough with subject lines. The one that won was, "and we thought the cat was stupid," submitted by none other than Mom. Congrats, Mom.

I think Beck said it all with

"I'm glad I got my suit dry cleaned before the riots started..."

Today I've eaten half a box of Thin Mints (tm) and 4 Reese's Bites (tm). Notice neither of these things contain meat. Notice also that neither of these things contain redeeming nutritional value. Give a little, take a little I suppose. Someone hand me a box of cereal and some legumes before I die.

Vegetarian: Day 9.

A humorous little story involving sea monkeys. And keep an eye on this blog, it looks promising.
Randy, you never fail to make me laugh. :)

Also, check out Erasing if you haven't recently done so. I love the way this guy writes.

Well, I'm contemplating an open e-mail to the two parties who are making my personal life hell this week. I don't really get why this is happening... I hate tension and would never do some of the things and say some of the things that these people are doing and saying. Maybe I'm socially retarded, but Christ, people, stopit. Rather than deal with things, the accepted path of action has become "lash out at me." If anyone else would like to lash out at me while everyone I know is at it, please, e-mail me and really let me have it. Maybe I can be my own Pavlov and learn to associate pain with pleasure. And I'd really like some e-mail. Write me a sentence about what ways in which your life is currently sucking, and then another about how it's my fault.

Things are coming along, otherwise. La.

Sunday, April 01, 2001

My computer is making this "whumwhumwhumwhumwhumwhum" noise that's getting really annoying. It is very much like my car.

Definite story progress today. Close to done? No. The family came to town, took all my energy, and left. Looooong weekend. I have nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no money to do anything with, so I might just go to sleep. The visit could've been better... the separate realms wherein I am usually comfortable clash and fizz and throw me off. I know not the correct boundaries and fall way short in order not to transgress. I mistake even in this. I am so tired of the arguing, and so might just sit out for a while. Double-plus-un-fun relationships.