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
MY SCIENCE BE TIGHT LIKE YO MAMA'S PANTS Why stand up? To find more food. Nun facade or loins. (Uh, sorry. That's an anagram for: Linear A confounds!) How to be a philosopher. "Stacking spheres" sounds so dirty. Or maybe that's just me. Baby, I'd like to stack your spheres. Oooh! Oooh! Alphabet synthesis machine. It's the kick-assiest. Have you read about the ice worm? I wrote a song about the ice worm. If you come over I'll sing it for you. It kind of requires Depeche Mode-style uberdark synthesizers, though. I am an ice worm/ohhhh icy cold/two centimeters maybe three/below freezing and so lonely/I'd like to give in/to the fire within/but ice worms disintegrate/so easily/love me/know me/ohhhh tiny fragile ice worm/I fear the lukewarm/death is everywhere (You know I'm kidding, right?) DOMESTICITY I have been horribly negligent about opening the mail and paying bills. I really hate opening mail. I need a mail-opening secretary. I think I'm all caught up now, in just enough time so they (you know, they) won't cut off my internet access or turn off my lights or revoke my Nordstrom's card. (Hopefully I'm through with the Nordstrom card now....I mostly just used it to buy myself grown-up clothes for that conference.) Last night I made lentil salad with feta cheese, diced red peppers, and balsamic vinegar. It's like a protein, vitamin C, and acid bomb. I am hoping it gets rid of this sudden sore throat and stuffy nose that came upon me literally all at once, within a single hour. One minute I'm lying on the couch watching the Simpsons and the next minute I am swallowing with pain. I've been taking vitamin C and echinacea, too, working on the theory that it can't hurt. I have shit to do this week and thus I want those germs on the run, run, run. Ka-zow! Stress and strife is running rampant in my social circle. I know five people with headcolds (and either they have transmitted their germs to me or I'm just a pathetic joiner with a need to belong). I know two people who are about to lose/have lost their jobs (damned floundering economy). And then there's my Morning of Minor Annoyances. MORNING OF MINOR ANNOYANCES: OR, MORE THAN YOU EVER WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT HOSIERY 1. I had gone a long time without public transportation crazies, but my streak was broken this morning. A fairly normal-looking guy (clean, shaven, no tinfoil hat) sat next to me on the El and then kept up a running dialogue with himself, all angry-like, and then he starts to gesture a lot, and I try to ignore this because, as you know, the golden rule of city life is NEVER PROVOKE THE CRAZY. I'm trying to just be cool about the violation of my personal space, and even after his gestures actually make contact with my arm I am still trying to be cool, but then the second time this happens I have had enough so I loudly say "DO NOT TOUCH ME." The really funny thing is that he gave ME a weird look and got up and moved. 2. Pretend you are me. Because it is warm (or rather, according to the Chicago Sun-Times, it is AIRY), and because you have a meeting of some importance today, you decided to wear your Purple Dress. Your Purple Dress is more on the grown-up side, and requires proper stockings rather than schoolgirl tights. Of course, there is some universal karmic rule that says that all will be fine when you put on the proper stockings at home. La la la, you will think, look at me, I am a grown-up lady with proper stockings. Then you will get to work and immediately acquire a huge run in said grown-up stockings, and you will say "Oh FUCK ME" quite loudly in your office (today is all about the outbursts, I guess) and probably alienate the eXtremely Christian (or eXtremely Xian, if you will) coworker in the office next to you. You will briefly consider shredding the stockings further, deliberately, and rocking a sort of Nina Hagen/Siouxsie Sioux/Cyndi Lauper nihilist punk look, but that would defeat the purpose of the Purple Dress. So off you go, first thing in the morning, even before the tea, to purchase more leg coverings. White Hen will turn out only to carry queen-size stockings, and since you are more of a princess or lady-in-waiting or scullery maid size, you will have to walk all the way to Walgreen's. There you will purchase not the expensive-but-worth-it-for-the-sensual-payoff silk brand that you prefer, but a brand that promises to "gently hug your legs to create an incredibly vibrant tingly feeling that goes nonstop throughout your busy day." You will wonder how they knew your day was going to be busy. How do they know you are not some throwback June Cleaver lady, putting on a dress and pearls just to down a bunch of amphetamine diet pills and vacuum really fast? You will also decide that, if you wanted an "incredibly vibrant tingly feeling," in your legs or elsewhere (ahem), you would not fuck around with a pair of stockings but go right to the battery-operated source. As it were. MUSIC Finally, someone mentions the Prima Donnas in the same breath as the Faint. I am not a huge fan of either band, but I never thought it was fair that the Faint got all the press for the same schtick. File under Best Caption Ever: "The Faint, as should be obvious from this photo, come from Nebraska." ---mimi smartypants lights another cigarette, speaks in secret alphabets.
Back to Diaryland
2002-05-15 ... 10:24 a.m.