In which I almost lose my mind because I am stupid, part 2.

Worky worky, no big. I didn't take a lunch break because I'm a bit impoverished and I'm meeting Matt for din-din later. Oh Montage, I can already taste the scrumtrilescence of your spold mac (perfect combo of spicy and creamy and garlicky sauce smothering large, ribbed, elbow noodles).

Around 4:30 I went outside to feed the meter and sneak a peak at the end of my book and smoke a cig. When I got back at 4:45, I realized that Alezah wasn't there yet. She's never ever ever late. Uh-oh. The bacteria in my guts took a sudden joyride on a 'coaster and I realized that I had forgotten some very important things about today...

1. Alezah is in Hawaii visiting family and liberating papaya for me
2. The library planner reads: SN 2 - 9:30
3. Alezah's out of town and I had court, so how perfect is that for me to take a snoozy after court and then close for her...

Shit.

Bill came to get me at 5 and took me to the LowBrow for some sustenance (beer and burger). Blake covered the library for over an hour and then chatted with me until he had to go. Jason listened to me babble like a crazy person while I sipped tea and twitched. Thank you, you dear sweet people.

My eyes are bloodshot, my brain is mushy, but I've actually had quite a fun day. I'm sad that I missed the MOntage with Matt and that I have now missed 2 (two!) America's Next Top Models, but over-all it's been a good day. I am currently listening to Xanadu and I think that there's some liquor left at home from the Ho 'n' Gigolo party.

In which I almost lose my mind because I am stupid, part 1.

thanks to bill, blake, and jason my exxxxxxxtremely long (not pornographically of course) day is 45 minutes away from ending.

here's the rundown:
7 am: wake up (anyone who knows me understands the evisceral experience of me in the wee hours.)
8:10 am: run out the door, coffee in hand to go to court.

8:11 am: shit, out of cigs, stop by astro where creepy dude gives me the schmarmy up-n-down.

8:13 am: on freeway, traffic looking good.

8:25 am: downtown, nice, nice. i can see the courthouse on the other side of the massive bronze elk statue that splits the street. awesome.

8:28 am: no parking on the street, no big, there's a garage.

8:29 am: said garage charges $4.25 per hour or any portion thereof. crap. i have no cash and might have to max out my credit card if 1) my ticket isn't reduced from $355 and 2) they won't let me set up a "plan"

8:30 am: found a spot on 6th floor, run to courthouse

8:35 am: in line for Traffic/Criminal windows after removing my shoes and checking my keys which hold a mini-leatherman tool.

9:35 am: speak to nice Eastern European lady about speeding ticket which gets reduced to $206 because, after all, I am guilty and I was in a construction zone. I sign a paper and then I'm done.

9:49 am: leaving courthouse. could make it home in car and then hop train to work which will make me late about one hour. OR can drive to work, be early one-half hour, pay $6.25 to park for five hours, and smoke a cig. I choose option 2 even after paying $8.50 for one hour and 20 minutes at garage across from courthouse.

10:00 am: work. aaah. slow day in the library, boss in good mood, got a bagel.

To Be Continued...

The last Scribbled Renjitsu, for now.

Scratchety Scribble page 3.

Scratchety Scribble page 2.

Scratchety Scribble page 1.

Accidental Art on the Clock

I made this. Accidentally. But what a perfect image to summarize my feelings about work today in that I feel completely insane and high:



The batch slide scanner was all effed up, so I was messing with the arm that pushes and pulls the slides into the scanner. Lo and behold, this is what happened.

I love the "Save as Draft" feature!

Ha hahahahhahahahaha hahahhaa hahaha. I wrote the following in June. Oh, the melodrama! Oh, the cheese!
p.s. Check out my bestest of the best friend's new blog: The Year I Turn 30. I'm turning 30 this year too which may be why I wrote such hideous drivel last summer. Plus, I was really really unhappy.
.........................................

Stupid Tree, by me

Why don't you respect me

Is it the question that starts your blood boiling and your contempt
rising in your throat like burning bile?
The scent of waxing self-doubt draws you to me like a vulture to stinking prey,
but sends you caroming as if the scent has gone sickly.

Fuck you.

I am slow to mend and slow to forgive but far too
quick to love, some say. Haughtily.

"Stunted little bird with stumps for wings,
can't even fly
or eat"

The sun is coming
and when it sears the horizon with redness you will not be anywhere
in the landscape.
A barren, desolate, dry and frightening place.
But the sun is coming.

I wonder...

...if I could get telekinesis to work for me, would things like aerodynamics and wind-resistance make a difference?

For example: I can imagine sitting here in my chair in the library and summoning the latest issue of Bust magazine to my hand. But. When the power of my mind begins to pull the mag toward me, would it matter if the pages started flapping? Would I lose bits of concentration and drop it, or is it enough that my mind is facilitating my laziness?

Wind-resistance would surely be a factor in the speed with which I receive the magazine, but because I don't really understand the powers of telekinesis, I have no basis for a hypothesis. Yoda tells us that it matters not the size or weight of an object, that one must channel the force and use it to move matter. I always thought similarly, but also that if one understands the make-up of an object one might be able to control it.

Either way, the magazine is not budging. I try and try to move things with my mind, but to no avail. I guess I'll just have to walk over there...