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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2002-04-22 ... 11:28 a.m.

Formula, recipe, alchemy: take one loose-knit group of boys and girls determined to feel something interesting. Add the steady, constant application of cheap domestic beer (like a windless low-pressure system, like a middle-C drone) punctuated by tequila shots (like solar flares, like timpani entrances). Overlay with an increasingly shrill manic cheerfulness and punctuate with a 4-am downpour. Let's hear it for Saturday night. (I may sound jaded and sarcastic, but it's purely a defense mechanism; I've been suffering from that grateful/weepy thing this morning and if I think too much about how lucky I am to have friends at all I will get all overemotional again. I'm a bit prickly and difficult to get to know so it always feels like a miracle to me.)

I had to walk quite far to find a taxi home in the rain and that combined with all the immune-system-destroying fun made me all achey and feverish and sniffly. There's no way I can stay home from work this week, not unless I want to get even further behind in The Stack, so hopefully my mystery illness won't get any worse.

Now I'm at work and of course trying to do about sixteen things at once. One of those things is to pack up all my crap, in preparation for moving to my new, kick-ass office down the hall. I am moving up in the world, at least in the limited realm of office space. My new office is bigger (plenty of space for kung-fu kicks), more private (low-traffic area and big thick door), on the same side of the building so I won't lose my lovely view of the transient hotel's fire escape, and it includes a napping couch, 24-hour sex slave service, and a wet bar. Okay, no it doesn't. Do you think I could get Building Services to install a wet bar, though? If I faked an official-looking invoice and work order perhaps it could actually happen.

Today's Sun-Times Weather Word is CRUEL. Poor Chicago, victimized by its weather.

I am weirdly craving protein but there are only starchy breakfasty snacks in my emergency food drawer. (What, you don't have an emergency food drawer? You should.) I kind of have a yearning for a hard-boiled egg, actually. Is there a hard-boiled egg store anywhere in the Loop/River North area?


Egg tricks. And remember, grab the membrane. I like how that was important enough to say twice, apparently.

The one about the bear and the hard-boiled eggs.

LT and I once ate at this sketchy restaurant in Cairo that had a charmingly mistranslated menu, and their list of breakfast dishes went like this: Fried Egg, Boiled Egg, Mashed Egg, Mixed Egg, Eggs Eyes. I don't think this is what they meant though.


Cube egg! You don't know how happy this gadget makes me. I ran into it at a weird kitchen gadget store and I bought several. It really works, too. There needs to be more cube-shaped food.


The 5-dimensional cube makes my head hurt a bit.

Math fun with the Ramones!

I need a security cube of my own. Maybe I can get one installed in my new office.


A short list of some things that I have had a deep-seated NEED to do while under the influence of liquor (yes, for all you fans of narrative threads, it does indeed seem like we've come full circle today): bake little quiches, take out my contacts, kiss girls, rearrange the limbs of sleeping people, toss an empty tequila bottle into Lake Michigan, lick each crayon in the box, order another, dance like a maniac, make long-distance phone calls, drop a pumpkin out of a three-story window, and order a special high-tech mop from home shopping television.

---the unflappable mimi smartypants


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