May 31, 2005

ms. clean

all i blog about now is my sink, but it is literally most interesting thing in my life at the moment. no, shutup! really. har now i can say i write about everything. har. so the landlord and maintenance man came by this morning to fix it and to supervize fixing it, in reverse order. i was in bed. the progression of events as i heard them, half asleep, through my wll were: stand around and discuss liquid plumber, run disposal, pause, mutterings, run disposal, pause, mutterings, run disposal. at this oint i got out of bed, put on pants and went to see what they were doing. they pointed to the drain and told me it was fixed. sink was running, no water was backed up. i just stared at it. they left.

so, my sink did just miraculously fix itself. my wanting that to happen, my periodic wandering into the kitchen and staring at it, willing that to happen, my whining that i wished it would happen, it seems were not childinsh, then, but oracular. i went back to bed for a bit. woke up again and did my dishes. scrub, scrub, scrub. cleaned my counters. the inside of the toaster oven. the inside of the microwave. the cabinet surfaces. stovetop. burner area beneath stovetop. floors. took the rugs outside and shook them. everything is clean. everything. it only took 4 1/2 hours.

i know not all of that was strictly necessary, but i can't do anything halfway. very ocd. and now that the voices in my head have finally shut up, i can take a shower and eat breakfast. maybe watch a spot of tv, and then get back to studying and learning and all that. well, almost. i do have to run to the store and pick up some steel wool so i can scrub the last remaning crusted dregs of burnt rice out of my pot. it took me about 5 boils with soap, water, and baking soda and then a lot of scraping to just get it this clean. so my world has not been entirely righted. just enough so i can stop obsessing so hard. thank god.

May 30, 2005

my ocd receptors are going into burnout mode

maintenance has the day off. the kitchen must remain festering shithole until tomorrow. they must take apart the sink and fix everything. liquid plumber eats away at the fixtures and, evidently, i should have known better than to put too many peels down the disposal. (it's a disposal, frankly, that's what i thought they were for.) but now the entire main room of my apartment is disgusting and guilt-inducing and i'm still disinclined to eat. at least i don't have class tomorrow so i can clean as soon as everything is fixed. oh, and i woke up at 8 today to try and get everything worked out as soon as possible. apalling, right? i am going to chalk this up to a learning experience or something, maturity bullshit. god, why won't you let me clean??

May 29, 2005

filth

i hate everything so hard right now. my kitchen is a mess. but beyond the mess, the sink is backed up. backed up and beyond the help of liquid plumber. dishes are fucking everywhere, caked and crusted with old food. burned-on-the-bottom food. the counters and stovetop are filty. all i want to do its clean. i want to clean so badly, all i can do is obsess over how badly i want to clean. it has become a physical need to tidy my surroundings. yet i can't. can't because of the fucking unfixable sink. i'm obsessing. i'm going to have to talk to the landlord tomorrow, and a plumber will need to be called and the sink will need to be fixed and only then, then can i clean. i am going crazy now. i just want the entire thing to be done with. every time i see my kitchen this way, something inside me dies a little. and i haven't eaten all day. i had a pita and a couple bites of ice cream (out of the carton with a fork). i'm just going to go to bed. become unconscious until i can deal with the problem again and have it all fixed. i swear, though, if i dream about dishes, i'm going to start injuring myself. good night.

May 27, 2005

the essay evolved

was getting ready for bed when i began thinking about the aquarium. i would really like to go this weekend. and, as a natural thought progression, i started thinking about sea cucumbers, one of my (many, many) favorite sea creatures. i am so very fond to the cucumber because of its remarkable adpatation to escape predators: it vomits up its own intestinal tract. this is not an intimidation technique, or even a reversible process, it is placating its would-be devourer so that what can only be described as "the rest of it," meaning the cucumber, is able to escape as its innards are being devoured. the cucumber, blessed with remarkable regenerative powers, eventually regrows its intestinal tract and is able to live out its life normally, likely not even sensible to the trauma it just experienced.

which got me to thinking about a non-scientist's or even a non-biologist's reaction to this rather extreme form of predator evasion. one might ask, is it really even worth it to the cucumber, going through this remarkable sacrifice, to live? a sea cucumber's life can't be terribly dynamic to begin with, it is a rather lengthy process regerating tissue and during that time, the cucumber would be unable to eat, and so would be sustained entirely by its body's stores. one would imagine that the poor creature would, if it recovered from the ordeal at all, be severly weakened and more likely to become some creature's prey anyway. is life really worth living if you haven't got a stomach?

but the answer to that is, of course, completely obvious. of course the cucumber would do anything within its power to remain alive. the longer it remains alive, the better chance it has to mate. and by "mate" i mean spew all sperm or eggs into the sea and hope they connect. the sea cucumber is merely a slave to its dna, burning to get passed along as many times as possible, and on, and on again.

that is the endgame. for every other species on the planet that is the whole of life. step 1. grow big and strong. step 2. mate. and possibly step 3. ensure offspring grow big and strong. and it's not just the males who are sex-fiendy in the animal world, it's just that the females have a different angle on it most of the time. as a general rule (that is reversed a LOT) males will mate with anything. females want the best sperm. so choice becomes an issue of shiniest coats (healty), longest tail feathers (good provider), best nuptial present (ditto), or mate with them all and let the sperm decide. my favorite has to be some species that can choose whether a specific male's sperm will be the stuff to impregnate her, after she's mated with several fellas. but this is what it's all about for every other species on the whole bloody globe.

and we have to wonder how neurotic we really are, we humans, with our birth control and pollution and little social will-she-won't-she games. from a biological standpoint, we're completely nuts. consider the complaints of plebophobic victorians: the smartest and wealthiest (because to victorians these were equivalent) reproduced at a lower rate than the poor degerates. but really, statistics for decades have reflected that sort of inverse education/fecundity trend. notwithstanding, with increased standards of living, now darwinism is trumped. the weaker are surviving to reproduce and pass on genes.

though you'll never see me complain. progressive-minded always, i can't complain that people are living. how silly. and i'm wildly grateful to grand mechanismic scheme of society that i did not die in childbirth at the age of fifteen in a cave or mud hut. for that matter, i'm thankful to evolution that my children were not bitten to death after a new alpha male ascended to leader of my family-group that i might come into season sooner and father the new leader's kids. i imagine that that might suck. poor apes.

evolution is, frankly, a remarkable thing. and just think, had we not evolved from harem-type (or less-likely, monogamous) ape species, men might have colorful, textured penises, the varied sizes and shapes to rival the selection found on any of good vibration's shelves. but back to the cucumber, shall we?

it's...astonishing to notice how easily we forget that we are little more than dna dispensing machines. truely a biological anomaly. all the silly little social games we play. existential crisis or identity issues, deep down we're all here for one reason. of course, there's more to life that just that. but remember, there wasn't ever meant to be.



additional information on the cucumber can be found here and here and this book, which i have not yet read, but plan to, more or less covers the rest of it. or at least, i am lead to believe.

peace, folks.

May 24, 2005

costume store of my dreams

let me tell you the tale of my first real job. the costume shop nestled between a tattoo parlor and a strip club. it's been about a year since i've been there and i'm beginning to miss the store and the people. i had meant to go back during spring break but didn't have the time, or alternately, the volition. was reminded at elissa's party about some great tales. it all started here:

she had a rosette made out of a palm frond on her dresser. i have three pinned to my bedroom wall back home. souvenirs from my first and only renfaire, which i went to with the girls from the shop. they were dressed as fairies and i was a sort of swashbuckling vixen with a knife on my hip and adana's bodice. nicole bought a pair of yummy sheepskin handcuffs, which she and adana put on and became my fairy captives. an older man in a leather mask and loincloth became enamored of me and handed me a palm frond rosette he had just made. i think he did it because i had been staring, intrigued by the mask. well, for the rest of the day, i would bump into him around the faire. he would follow me, throwing his rosettes at my feet from a few paces behind, or from nooks where he was lurking. i picked up a total of three but there were more i either failed to notice or was too bustling to stoop to get. i loved mask man! totally made my faire. also got my bosom nuzzled, giving a waiter his "tip," a dollar bill stuffed into my (even with a bodice on) minimal decolletage. nicole teased me for blushing, so i directed his to start at her ear, a know weakness of hers, ha ha!

a brilliant story of how stupid some people can be. every year around christmas, there is a dickens faire, which is what it seems, a victorian version of renfaire, essentially. our store ads say we costume for many events, including that one. (there was a lovely victorian high-collared black shirt with maroon ribbon and lots of prim tiny buttons that i love, but can't fit my broad shoulders into, alas.) well, late one evening, a woman calls the store asking about our inventory and adana takes the call. the woman asks, "do you have and rabbit costumes?" and adana describes the big furry mascot rabbits we keep around for easter, but that doesn't seem to wax the woman's fancy, so she asks, "well, how about costumes of that the rabbit wants?" and adana, a bit confused replies, "you mean a carrot?" evidently not. what rabbits want is "a costume shaped like giant penis?" which we absolutely did not carry. adana explains that we are a family store and really not into that sort of thing, thank you, but the woman might want to try our competitors, the joke shop down the street as they have no shame. and the woman replies with wonder, "but i have one of your ads here, and it says you do dickens faire!" *groan* we couldn't make this up, folks!

we write all our best customer stories in "the book." i only got to write in the book twice since starting there. both very noteworthy events. the first was a brilliant woman who wandered into our midst most likely entirely unawares. she walks into the store normally and glances briefly at our racks (of clothes, jackass), but then looks over her shoulder as if waiting for someone. but this was perfectly normal, we would often get people meeting at the store to pick out costumes together, or give approval for a play or the like. a pity with the perilously narrow parking lot and competition for the limited spaces with the titty bar next door. the woman comes to the counter and asks me, "did you see anyone follow me in?" no, of course not. and she was watching the door, as well. i tell her, politely, no she was the only customer in the store. she hovers around a bit and i go around the counter into another part of the store. she follows me, saying, "i'm glad he didn't follow me in. he's been following me all day. don't you think it should be illegal for people to stalk you with their minds? i mean, mental stalking is stalking, but the police say they can't do anything about it and i think it should be illegal after all...." woo, a crazy! i smile and nod and agree that mental stalking is wrong and wander back into the main room to flag one of my coworker's attention. shooting furtive looks at karsten and adana, i continue to listen and nod. she then tells me that she has george bush and al gore in her head (possibly cheney, too, memory grows fuzzy) and that they tried to get out and into mine, as they like pretty girls like me, but she stopped them because i really wouldn't want them in my head. and all the time, i kept glancing at my coworkers to see if they were listening, but they were glazed, not caring for the political talk as it was just before the 2000 elections. after she left, i, of course, recounted the entire story and they regretted missing it deeply and insisted i write it all down for posterity.

frankly, some of our best customers were homeless or crazy or a bit slow. one...ah, challenged man, "our favorite customer," knew our stock so well that he'd come in and just ask about the new products. a huge buffy fan, he'd corner karsten in his work and chat him up for hours, always wearing a black backpack high on his shoulders, with the sweetest earnestness. then there was the well-dressed homeless man (off-white leisure suit, rather southern looking) who would come in and buy our military hats, towing a rolling luggage cart that he would then leave in our aisles. he would insists we show him the entire inventory, removing all the hats, one by one, from the precariously stacked shelf. after looking at them all, he might buy one or place a special order, but more often he would declare he would come back at the end of the month to make an actual purchase or check our new hat inventory, and we would all grumble like mad. because, aside from his rather tedious needs, he smelled. he was a right ripe old fellow. and the closer to the end of the month we caught him, the worse he smelled. the first time i helped him, he was so foul, that my eyes were watering and my nostrils twitching in agony. i had to go sit in the stock room for a bit afterwards to collect myself.

and i saw more men in drag, then, than i ever did during middle school. (we had a very strange theater department.) one day, adana and i were talking behind the counter. i looked up and saw a hairy man in an arabian nights costume looking at rack. went on with conversation. shortly thereafter, we both looked up and saw the same man just standing there, dressed like "i dream of genie," and continued our conversation without missing a beat. about forty seconds later, though, we burst simultaneously into laughter, not at the random apparition, but at how blase that sort of thing had become. i've helped drag queens pick out tights, and shown punky transvestites our inventory of skirts. i once sold a transsexual some fake blood to cover the blue haze of her five-o-clock shadow, because we didn't carry the real stuff, and mac was too far for her to get to that evening. warned her that i didn't think it would work very well. sticky.

with the location of our store, we did attract some of a less desirable element. mostly drunken customers from next door who wandered in around closing time. the best at dealing with them was the arthritic but sparky diana who helped out as a special favor to our boss (or more likely, was hired as a special favor for the extra income) around the holidays. we bonded and discussed the military and tattoos. we'd get in some of the dancers from next door, but they were cool. "which gloves go better with pink g-string bikini and a fishnet bodystocking?" "well, i couldn't say for sure offhand..." "oh, well, here (lifts shirt, holds out arm)." more obnoxiously, would be twentysomethings who asked sixteen-year-old me to try on lacy tops for them and asked my coworkers my name. actually, there was only one of these, but boy he creeped me out.

none of those things went in the book, though. what did was my porn proposal. man walks into store. karsten, the quintessential salesman accosts him with hilarious sleazy grin, timbre, and energy - you want costumes? we got costumes, we got 'em by the truckload, so what can i do you for? the man wanted wizards. i half-listened from behind the counter, bemused. the man wanted robes...cheap...disposable...making a film...harry potter...porn. what?! now karsten is a pro when it comes to innuendo, but when someone starts talking about sex in all seriousness, he becomes a bit more shifty and reserved, and in this case, amused. he shows the man the wizards talks about special orders and generally humors the man with his sense of humor. and i'm giggling silently to myself behind the counter in a top hat. i have to assume he was in the area visiting the adult bookstore couple doors down or the titty bar next door. as the man leaves, and i casually try to catch a glimpse to put a face with the story, he spots me and sort of sidles over to where i'm standing. "well, hello there, you're a cutey, are you 18?" **wee-oo wee-oo** *asshole alert!!* "yeeess..." "do you model?" *asshole alert asshole alert, grade 3!! man ironic detachment stations!* "haha, no." (no.) by this time, karsten has noticed the man has not left and his radars are beeping too. *switching to: protector mode.* "ah, i'm a photographer, i'm always looking for new models. would you like to see my portfolio? it's actually just in my car...." (little smile) "alright." he leaves to get it and karsten swoops over to land in the crook of the counter just in front of me and to my left. gives me significant look. the man returns, he's left his proper portfolio at home and just has the little one. starts flipping through it. it's mostly uninspired shots of strippers with the naughty bits expertly covered by little digital swirls. those pay the bills. and then there's his "art." naked women in front of sort of psychedelic universe computer-generated backgrounds. there are several shots of a particularly busty asian woman, who he identifies as his "muse." karsten and i make appreciative mutters. he couldn't show us the last few pages as they were a bit more...risque. darn. and it looks like he's about to leave when...our boss steps out from her office. and he shows her his portfolio as well. my former boss is an intimidatingly tall matronly woman, with a take-no-gruff attitude, and a one of those thin-lipped stares that's reminiscent of legions of angry librarians and history teachers. and i get a bit anxious that she'll yell that we're not working, but instead she looks through his portfolio as i look on in bemused horror. she leaves us to our customer, then, and he writes his contact info on one of our cars for me in case i or one of my friends is interested in posing for him. fat chance, but i keep the card as a token. of mr. photographer "techno eros."

it was an interesting place to work, i must say. the low pay and often dull afternoons offset by the absolute hilarity of a few glowing moments. and despite employee friction, hearing the chronic gripes of one hypochondriac with ibs, and generalized fear of my boss, i had a brilliant time. i'll never forget going back there for an afternoon during my holiday, my first year into college and being set hard to work unpacking a box of pirates and rubber chickens. damn, good times.

May 22, 2005

star wars spoiler alert

things happened this weekend but i'm going to forgo all storytelling blather to give my very own, and needlessly redundant review of star wars movie: new. i read olympia's review here, which is scathing and full of hate, and thought, eh, she makes some good points. but, when asked about it, myself, i pause and squelch out a sad little, "it wasn't bad," which is far from rave, but here goes.

it wasn't bad.

not to say that it was exactly good. like luke would desperately like to believe that leia is not his sister, i would have loved it if the movie were remarkable. but she is, and the movie was far from magic.

my vast favorite of the series is empire strikes back, as it should be yours, and if you have any taste, i imagine it is. hoth, yay hoth. yay big furry llama things. yay paternal revelations (that was this one, right?). yay carbonite. but even in the original series, you can see lucas' creativity just puff out with return of the jedi. ewok party anyone? ewok songs? and is anyone familiar with the ill-received christmas special? frankly, it is evident lucas' ability to write a quality star wars franchise ended with empire. and so, seeing the "first" episode all those years ago, i was a bit irked at the asinine characters: blue arab beetle trader, jar-jar - they're ewoks made with computers. at least the newest one because it had no gratuitous child-amusing fluff characters that made me want to bleed from my head.

olympia complains that general grievous (seriously, what's with the name? sinestro taken?) was a skinny 5th element guardian, the tentacle robots, matrix sentinels, etc. i'm not sure that i would go so far to accuse lucas of ripping off those characters if i didn't notice that the tall tentacle-headed jedi chick was shockingly similar to...luxans, i think...from farscape. and obi-wan's lizard/bird mount? the exact same cgi used to make harry potter hippogriffs, just flattened out and set to "spaz."

the cgi, as usual annoyed me. i'm almost always annoyed by cgi. it feels like cheating. such a fan of ray harryhousend, you can understand my total reverence of painstakingly crafted special effects. this whole highly-rendered, entirely computerized background, and all the little spookily liquid-jointed characters grate on me. when something can be created in real life, please, regardless of cost, go that way. i'm still pissed that they make jabba fully cgi in a new hope, when he's a puppet in the other two films. and yoda. new yoda makes me want to pull out a giant flyswatter, as much as i love him.

besides, as part of a trilogy, shouldn't the technology used in the films be at least similar? even the technology within the film (another of olympia's gripes that i share), should that have been scaled down a little bit? i know, modern audience expects dramatic swishy fights, robots going zoom, and all the rest, but come on. anakin, fought so much more dynamically than supposedly more powerful vadar. yoda became hobbly. and luke fought like he was wielding a broadsword. now, yoda is tiny flipping absinthe fairy. that is not the yoda i love.

and they did push his silly little yoda-isms too far in this one. less wise little cackling bugger than foreigner in desperate need of berlitz tapes. on the other hand, i don't have much complaint with the dialogue in general. it wasn't brilliant, but at least the love scenes didn't make me gag. and i think i did actually get little shiver when obi-wan yelled at melting anakin "you were the chosen one, dammit." it was nice they broke out james earl jones to do vadar's voice in the end, i can imagine that anakin's vocal chords were seared or something during the whole jedi-costumes-need-asbestos-lining scene, but the effect was spoiled by the fact that he still sounded a bit like a whinging teen. "what, i like totally killed her? no, i couldn't have, like totally out of the question, man. yo. noooo!!"

and does anyone else thing it was almost amusingly easy to make lukedaddy switch sides? i can cheat death? sweet, yo! sign me up, nucka. but speaking about "too fucking easy" - the ending? yoda going, "i have plan for you in the desert, we can talk to the dead, wow"? that was so fugging unnecessarily pat.

but, no, it wasn't bad per se. can't be worse than its merchandizing. going to have to start referring to him as george "putas" lucas. i swear, darth vadar-inspired slurpee makes me want to injure myself. it's depressing, really, watching lucas continue to ass-rape his cash cow. but i'd buy a set of the dvd's if he re-re-released the origingals without his edits. i suppose that makes me a punter, then.

May 15, 2005

life, and something like it

oh darling, what is wrong with you?

life. ah, yes. life. i've been happy the past few days in that genuine, back-to-normal sort of way. but i've had the urge to write enigmatic, slightly philosophical and deep brain dumps everywhere i can. i've been wearing black eyeliner and no socks and keeping myself very well hydrated. my makeup was inspired by a pretentious scandinavian short film from the 60's "the perfect human," in translation. the bare feet are the result of finally warm summerish weather hitting la. and the hydration is probably some brain stem compulsion.

i have been slowly re-reading pattern recognition, starting thursday or friday at the pool. after having discovered that i have midterms wednesdays of the next two weeks, rather than monday and wednesday of this week, i began slacking off again. that, as well as wednesday's apartment find, my parents' cheque in the mail, and the blood donation have put me back into high spirits.

wednesday i donated blood. i may have flirted with the phlebotomist who pricked my finger and made sure i had never had sex for drugs or money, though i really don't know when casual conversation turns into flirtation, so it might not be a worry. went to see maqbool alone, as i could find literally no one to join. but the movie was interesting and i ran into the same "prick" as earlier coming out of it. we talked walking up bruin walk and parted ways on gailey. had to think i never would have seen him again had i gone to the film with someone else, but i hate those "alternate reality" lines of reasoning.

in another reality, that of home during the summer, it seems that my home group will be going camping on the beach. sounds like a good time, but being such quintessential intelligista children of the suburbs, only one of us (suegol) has ever done this sort of thing before. so the group (as loyalties lie): sadaf, suegol, megha, shahin, clarence, yen, myself, and possibly one or two others will be living on a beach for a couple of days, and i can almost hear the agonized cries of "ugh! i got sand in my sleeping bag!!" if i close my eyes.

sadaf and suegol don't want mat to go. i do. frankly, i'd feel a bit more secure with a male there who is, apologies to clarence and shahin, more butch than i am. though i wouldn't go so far as to call mat a "man's man." we really must introduce other men into the group, as the prospect of intradating is just depressing.

mm, but speaking of butch males, friday night at sadaf's and then back in my own apartment, i watched aussie rules football. the game, a strange combination of soccer, rugby, football, and who knows what else, i absolutely amazing. beautiful muscular men wearing shorts and tank-tops to better show off their perfectly muscular limbs run, jump, kick and hit to get a rounded football through a goal on each end of an oblong field. it is perfectly amazing to watch a man running down a field, bouncing an oblong ball on the grass every few steps, to pass the ball along just before being tackled, and to see that man then kick the ball an absurd distance with perfect accuracy, through two uprights that constitute a goal. mmm, and to see the men doing all of this in knee-high striped socks? oh, perfect! it seems i have a rather large weakness for men in striped socks.

the rest of friday night was spent either drawing on steve's ceiling (and my own chest) in blacklight pen during my visit with sadaf, or drooling with kat over televised men.

saturday night was actually spent in quite a similar manner, with kat and i watching one of the next generation start trek movies (insurrection) and making eyes at picard and riker. this was after spending the late afternoon in santa monica wandering around. we ate hot dog on a stick for the first time since prepuberty, to our collective amusement. and ran into cynthia and her boy in the 3rd st. victoria secret. it was a bit awkward, as, technically, she does live with us, yet it was the first time seeing her in at least a month. of course, i've run into mark at least three times in the past week, so it was inevitable that we meet, having left our respective apartments.

another person it's awkward: been talking to kim in a friendly way for a couple of months now. this morning she told me she was feeling depressed, etc. didn't really know what to say, but it was such an absurd de ja vu, as i spent most of the last two years of our friendship before the big split discussing her depression. i didn't want to be put into the role of cheering her, but really, it turned out unnecessary. frankly, i half expect our renewed friendship to be some elaborate set-up. as if at some point, i will see her again and she will have several large men emerge from bushes to beat me up. but i am trying to act like a normal person and i must say, it does seem to be working.

apart from that, everything is more or less normal. last night i dreamed i was in a play, my hair is in pigtails, and i'm still vaguely pining. ah, well. such it is, such it is.

May 11, 2005

le sigh

unhappy a little. stress of apartment hunt, schoolwork, making a lesson plan, money (or rather the total lack of any of those things) is driving me a bit crazy. i'm either scary and walled-off, or there's a little core of panic with tendrils extended through all my limbs. i've been getting these pangs of loneliness and the stress dreams are returning. i did poorly on my genetics midterm yesterday, rather to my shock and horror. one test is dropped, though, so i'm not completely disheartened. but i'm behind in all my readings, and i way behind in listening to the lectures for my bonus final. with the security deposit for the new apartment, i'm even more broke than i had previously thought. the end of the quarter is quickly looming. and i have hardly begun preparing fot the summer teaching. my baseline state is rather numb to this all, even almost happy, but if the slightest things tips me towards unhappy, i tend to spiral into a gloom pit worthy of an afi fan. there's one thing i'm kind of excited about, and that is a free movie tomorrow night - "maqbool." bollywood rendition of macbeth. purportedly very violent and about hindi underworld bosses and intrigue. it sounds so cool i could just die. must.go.see. i just need to find someone to join. or go alone, like sad girl with no friends, but i will see it. though, with my current disposition, it would be more appropriate if they were showing hamlet. ah, well.

May 07, 2005

end of the week

things i saw:

crow picking at a dead squirrel in the middle of the street. i was a bit scared that a car would run over the squirrel and then the crow would be unhappy, deprived of his picking rights.

single ladie's shoe (black strappy heel) wedged beneath the back tire of a car.

lucía y el sexo por la cuarto vez. teehee. todavía me encanta paz vega. canté suavamente y tomé ron.

life of brian because i didn't remember it, and i toasted and ate a bagel. giggled slightly tipsy and threw my arms over my head in joy.

about 500 newscasts about runaway brides/bridegrooms. why is this news? why? first there was the fake kidnapping and then, as backlash, an la man who was missing for like a year. evidently, he was so unwilling to wed he lived as a hobo on venice beach all year. pity he was ever found.

lucky charms commercial in which "lucky" goes to his secret places all happy no one knows of his covert cereals. but of course, the children always track him like bloodhounds and discover new marshmallow shapes and cereal flavors. (now it's chocolate, as if it weren't sugary enough before.) but shouldn't lucky realize that he's always betraying his own hordes? he should just stay away from those places and maybe get a restraining order against his multicultural young stalkers. though, actually, with the rate at which he revels his secrets, he probably has some passive-agressive need to betray himself to these children. lucky, you bastard.



happy girl.

May 05, 2005

633|( speek

i've been having very long conversations with mat (i've dropped the extra "t" from his name as i find it superfluous, it will now be spelled and pronounced accordingly) the past couple of nights. they have been delightfully amusing (omg, lol), especially the one i promised not to repeat to anyone (is that not how it always goes?). but here is the other, from about 2 am last night. comments are in bold parentheticals...enjoy.

mat: i could regale you with tales of our heroic struggle against the fire god, Ragnaros (yet another WoW boy i know)
me: is that who you were fighting last time?
me: final boss?
mat: yep
me: and is his name based on ragnarok? (yay norse mythology!!)
mat: mehidunno
me: one of the creators of that game was in jim frat
mat: well regardless of where the name comes from, we got him down to 73% of his total life!!!!
me: horray
me: and still going?
mat: you only really get three tries every 5 days
mat: and only get 2 hours to do it
mat: so no
me: yow
mat: yeah it sucks
mat: used to be only 1 hour
mat: but you get him down to 75 ish percent
mat: and then he spazzes out and becomes immune and spawns a ton of guards that rocked us
me: yow
me: hehe you got pweened
me: that's a geek word i learned(yeah, i suck)
mat: please
mat: it's pwnd
me: i spell it with e's
me: like i speel leet with a 4
mat: nono
mat: 4 = a
mat: 3 = e
me: i know
me: i'm not leet.
me: i'm late (i'm sooo funny)
me: har
me: :D
mat: harhar
mat: so in this game, you can't communicate with the opposite faction
mat: it just gets garbled
me: "you bad"
me: "i wining" ?
mat: but numbers didn't used to get garbled
me: har
mat: so peole would have lengthy conversationgs in "leet speak"
mat: consisting of numbers and punctuation (i love the geek history lesson, 4 realz)
me: and now, i just use it to piss off my geek friends
mat: haha
mat: but yeah, ben erez and all of us
mat: our guild was the Beard of Zeus
mat: so
mat: we'd yell |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!! after pwning someone
me: it's gonna take me a week and a half to translate that into normal people text (i'm so not as cool as i thought)
me: i...
me: thingie
mat: |= 3 4 |2 = Fear
me: e...a...r...t...
mat: + |-| 3 = The
me: ooh
mat: |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!! = Beard !!!!!
me: i got some of that (shakes head sadly: no)
me: howja make a W?
mat: \/\/
me: those are real letter, though
mat: no
me: oh, no
mat: \ / \ /
mat: slashes
me: n?
me: |\| ?
mat: yep
me: 1 \/\/1|\|
me: har!
me: much shorter
me: no double enteande (i'm thinking "beard")
mat: yeah except you'd just make a macro so you press one button and it says it and you can spam it
mat: sorta like
mat: |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!!
mat: |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!!
mat: |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!!
mat: |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!!
mat: |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!!
mat: |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!!
mat: |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!!
mat: |= 3 4 |2 + |-| 3 |3 3 4 |2 |]!!!!!! (i really never realized mat was this geeky)
me: well, it's good you write it a lot, so that they have time to decipher it
me: now how do i make a macro thingie? (the prospect of push-button insults really appeals to me)
mat: thats within the game
me: you just cut and paste here, then?
mat: although you can get plenty of 3rd part programs to do it
mat: yeah cut and paste
me: cheater
me: and i was all ready to be impressed about how much better you use macs than i
mat: i could prolly whip something up
me: oh yes?
me: you might (against all seeming) be scary gamer boy, but you haven't convinced me you're that 1337 yet
mat: ok my server has a few thousand Horde characters (my faction)
mat: horde vs alliance
mat: i'd say maybe close to 8000
mat: i'm ranked 171 in amount of alliance killed
mat: so i'mm the 171st best pvper on my server
mat: out of about 10 thousand
mat: and thats without trying too hard (hahaha, woooo fancy.)
me: no, within the game, i'm willing to acquiesce that you scary rawk
me: but in the rest of the world
me: i am not convinced
mat: haha neither am i
me: haha, ouch
mat: i could lift some really heavy things
me: that's not what i meant
mat: would that impress/convince you?
me: lol
me: it would be a start...?
me: i was still referring to computers, btw
mat: oh well i suck at computers
mat: all i know how to do is play games
mat: ask sadaf if you want fancy shmancy computer stuff
me: though i suppose heave lifting is good skill to have. kudos.
me: yeah, her and kat
me: they know things
mat: and i can kick things good, to boot
mat: hah, get it
mat: to boot
mat: i kill me
me: i'm gonna wait till sadaf gets all super-scary programmer and then i'm gonna make her program me a mind-control program which i will spam out in hordes and all clueless microsoft users WILL BE MINE!!! (yes!)
me: (har, mat. har.)
mat: can i be yours in a non possesed way? (mreh?)
me: (actually, "to boot" teehee)
mat: :P
me: how good are you at opening jars?
mat: oh man
mat: i make lids wish they were never born
me: i need a cupboard-man to keep around to open my tomato sauce when i can't
me: kat and i had difficulties last night (fucking tomato sauce)
me: but she used her brain and stuck a rubber band around the cap for friction
me: she's my hero
me: but i long ago decided i need a fella to keep in a cupboard againt that sort of crisis (no, seriously. every so often, i'll talk about my dreams of owning a "cupboard man.")
mat: haha

here it just devolves into more bored useless interjections. nothing too exciting. the end.

May 01, 2005

moods swinging with slight chance of rain

long week of manic mood swings. happy, not happy, stressed, depressive, angry, apathetic. the exact order of all that is irrelevant, and a very complicated story. but the main driving forces are stresses about money and the lab internship. i fucked up in the lab and will probably be assigned to a new, less expensive project. but that won't pay. and my savings have momentarily dipped below $100 to my extreme panic. i have a check i can cash, but i'm going to have to call home and demand money for june. but i'm still very full of stress. and i'm a bit upset about the lab thing, i'm a bit sad. there's also...two more things. that i'd rather not talk about as they involve various friends. stress-wise, big bads. mental demons, so to speak. but i've accepted one rather quickly, the other is still...bad bad bad. visceral, and it's something i should have gotten over ages ago. me and my fucking brain. i'd rather talk about the good things.

last friday, went to blaize's roommate's birthday party. drank quite a bit and threw up when i got back to my place. made it to the toilet in time, but it was unfortunately closed. laughed about his later, but at the time, all i could do was clean up as best as i could and go to bed. the next day i scrubbed thoroughly and properly, with lots of antiseptic. spent the first bit of my week studying for a pair of midterms monday and wednesday. went in on mon to see the lab people about what i was going to do, and found out i had mislabeled some samples as positive and wasted a bunch of their time in re-running gels and things. wednesday watched blade: trinity weds with kat, blaize, and jim. i was feeling a little down, but had done nicely on my midterm that morning and had been looking forward to hanging around the apartment drinking and watching a movie with kat. instead, blaize came by and sort of co-opted the evening. we had overcooked steak at his place and went to jim's to see the movie. it was absurd. kat and i mocked it all the way through, as we do. until jim, much less fun, snapped and started yelling at me, "yes, we all know you're smart. oh so much smarter than the movie. now could you just shut up!" which was absurd yelling, as he thinks it's a ridiculously bad movie as well. i flipped him off calmly and continued. went through bout of depression later that night and read myself to sleep with my lovely book, a sequel to eyre affaire, and just as charming. thursday had another meeting with the lab people. i'm on a bit of hiatus after the last faux pas as mentioned before. the stress about the meeting had me dreaming horrible anxiety dreams about pipetting and pouring gels in some sort of carnival. actually, all my stressors were there to torment me in proper uppity subconscience fashion. went to see hitchhiker's guide friday with the same movie group as earlier. bonded with a young girl (seven years) in the theater before everyone joined me inside. sat happily giggling at the film and the mood i had been carrying the past couple of days dropped away. nice movie, well done apart from the overdone sappy love bit. ib's birthday party was later that night and i met two entirely new boys and spent most of the party chatting up. how uncharacteristic. i also spilled sangria on a boy's shoes, kat knocked a drink out of my hand and onto the carpet. come to think of it, the guy i spilled on helped clean that first mess up, too. he left and i moved on to a pole vaulter who had been in one of my classes last quarter. hehehe, pole vaulter. best part of the party was definitely the massive cooler full of mixed drink. fruit wedges floating in dark red pool nearly up to the lip. yesterday, watched shaun of the dead, which i thought was very amusing until the sad bit and then amusing again, and watched dune. was disappointed as usual at the missing scenes (from television movie versions) not in the dvd. (dvd!!!! arg!) today did masses of laundry, including clothing with wine splashes, clothing with soy sauce splashes (dropped soy sauce tub on myself), bathroom rug with vomit splashes. spent the rest of my time utterly unproductive and still in a bit of a panicked funk. it's been sunny but cool all week to my consternation. all i need is a good heat wave to pick me right up, i think. but forecast predicts showers. so if you see me this week, bags under my eyes, thin lips, and haunted stare, be kind. i'm probably trapped in brooding mood. hugs appreciated.