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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

2002-05-28 ... 1:34 p.m.


1. Don't go. Seriously. Just don't.

2. I noticed when getting dressed this morning that the underwear I am wearing today was manufactured in Macau. Perhaps my underwear was once handled by a swarthy Portugese longshoreman. (There are a lot of dirty comedy directions I could go in here, but I think I'll pass.)

3. Later, I walked past a bus bench and underneath it was this black plastic garbage bag, and I thought: Oh I hope there is a human head in there. But I was already half a block past it and I didn't want to backtrack and check. Wouldn't that be interesting, to find a human head in a garbage bag on LaSalle Street? The police station is only a block or so from there, although it probably would be proper protocol for me just to call them on my cell phone rather than scooping up the head bag and walking it over. No matter how much more efficient that would be. Disturbing the crime scene and all that.

4. So I scrolled all the way down and just about had a heart attack, because how nice is that? Aw shucks, Kymm.

5. Tomorrow I have my first violin lesson in years and I am feeling very squinky and nervous and weird about it. This guy seems nice on the phone, and said many of the right things (such as that he prefers teaching adults because he can get all "theoretical" with them, which was very much a good thing to say from my perspective), but I am skeptical and worried that he might be too high-powered for me. He plays at Ravinia (CSO's summer orchestra) and in the Indianapolis Symphony. I haven't exactly worked anything up for our first meeting either. The last concerto I studied seriously would be a real stumblefuck if I tried it now, so I think I'm just going to bring some basic stuff from Suzuki books etc. Also, between now and tomorrow at 6 pm I will be reminding myself every few hours that everything is OKAY and that I no longer have to be some sort of FUCKING PRODIGY and remember when music was ENJOYABLE? (Which I think it can be again. As long as I remain calm.)

5. Is this kind of simplistic and glib, or am I just cranky?

6. Oh man oh man oh man I did not require this knowledge.

7. The weirdest thing is going on here computer-wise: I can't always get my browser to close. It happens about seven times out of ten, and when it does, nothing works. The close window button doesn't work. File, Close doesn't work. Alt + F4 doesn't work. Here are the two things that do work: minimizing the browser window and then mouse right-clicking to close, and giving up entirely and doing a ctrl/alt/delete to forcibly quit the program. Isn't that odd?

8. So sleepy today. Even multiple cups of Irish Breakfast tea (the baddest of the bad-ass high-caffeine black teas) aren't helping. I went to yoga class and it was like moving through thick oatmeal. The simplest of straight-spined poses seemed like way too much effort. Today is about being curved, curled, curlicued, whorled like a nautilus: I am too sleepy for straight lines.

9. The minutes from the Saturday (grrrr) meeting I had to attend recently came out. This meeting was held in the giant star-chamber conference room where there are little microphones as if you are testifying before Congress or something. (Digression: Dude. I love this photo. Check out the giant ashtray next to him. Different times, indeed.) If you want to say something, you press your button and a little thing lights up until you are called upon. Also, everything that is spoken into the microphone goes on tape, where it is then transcribed for the minutes into that weird flat business language, and this is the first year I've attended the meeting that I truly realized that. I think next year, if (when) someone says something stupid, I am going to lean forward, turn on my microphone, and say, "Don't jive me." Then a few weeks later the minutes can say something wonderful, such as: Mimi Smartypants requested not to be jived. That is my plan.

10. Most beautiful palindromic number.

11. Just got some interesting news: LT has been invited to present some software he invented to yet another company, this time out in Phoenix. If I end up married to the next Bill Gates I am going to be very freaked out.

12. Do you have a personal policy about homeless handouts? Do you give money to everyone who asks? No one? Women with kids but not vodka-smelly stewbums? My policy is this: I put one dollar daily in my pocket, and it goes to the first person who asks. Sometimes no one asks, and that's fine. But after I give the dollar away, it is gone: other homeless folks will get the benefit of my sympathetic smile and that is all. I hit upon this system because it seemed grossly unfair that I should decide based on no information whatsoever which people are worthy of my dollar; this way whoever gets to me first wins, and can do whatever he or she pleases with the money. (It's the OCD again. The random systems that aren't really random.) HOWEVER: today I got hit up right outside my building, on the side where there is a little kiosk that sells juice and candy and stuff, and I gave the guy the dollar, gladly. Gladly, that is, until I witnessed him go directly inside the building and buy a lottery ticket with said dollar. That pissed me off. I would have had more respect for someone buying fortified wine or crack rock than a fucking lottery ticket.

---mimi smartypants needs to straighten up and fly right.


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