September 16, 2005

wtf, yo, wtf

i'm not really great with dates and times. i often get the hour or even day of the week confused. networks are fond of placing ads, "watch *this show,* tonight at 9:00." and i'm often surprised, "oh yeah. it's today today." actual quote. also, i'm late to everything. everything. even if i leave with seemingly enough time to get there, even if i wake up early, even if i run - i'm late. i'm like a gas, i expand to fill all the time alloted. in stark contrast i woke up from sleep this morning. wasn't sure what time it was. flashed through my mind, "feels like 11:10." pried my eyes open, kinda flopped onto my stomach, craned my eyes upward toward the clock, squinted. it was exactly 11:10. wtf?

September 14, 2005

mindfucker

i used to believe in fakirs. or yogis. you know: lying on beds of nails, slowing their heartbeats and burrying themselves for months, sticking hooks through their skin and not bleeding. and i thought: wow, how cool that these men can become so enlightened as to rise above the physical needs of their bodies and control their physical impulses with their minds. then i watched chris angel: mindfreak. and it ruined all the wonder and mystery of life for me - if that giant jerkoff is doing those stunts for real, then i wanna stab my own head (it'll bleed by the way) because i refuse to believe that that fuckhead is in any way posessing powerful mind...powers. no! it cannot be!! he has to be a fraud, because if he had prescience he would have realized his head is so far up his ass his producers have had to install flourescent lighting. (okay, i'm bad at metaphor.) my point is, he's a giant fungal growth and i hate him. raaaargh!

September 08, 2005

i've got an itch

they never tell you about the itching like mad stage of the tattoo healing process. we all know that they hurt to get, and they scab over while they heal (or at least flake), but the itching is like an insider secret. it's gotten pretty bad. last night, my tattoo was even itching in my dreams. which brings me to the big weird, again - the second back licking dream in a month. it was in an elevator. i was terribly itchy, so my friend started licking it, i guess as a less abrasive alternative to scratching. my shirt was off and i was making it tickles gleeful squirmy noises when the doors opened and bunches of people i the hallway saw me in my bra all giggly. did i mention it was a girl doing the licking? two guys walked into the elevator, and i grabbed her hand and we ran into the hall giggling and pulling on my tanktop. later, back in the elevator, i pulled a specialized medicated disposable scratchy wand (like one of those clorox disposable toilet scrubbers) off the wall and relieved my sufferings with that. it was actually fairly enjoyable (as well).

now, my dream brings me to two points: 1) how bad do you gotta itch before your subconscious starts to feel it? and 2) what's with all the back-licking dreams, eh? it's turned into a thing. like a weird little fixation. kink, we'll call it? probably more exciting in my mind than with the actual stickiness and wet and slobber. but i'm gonna just dwell on the other thought, nmm. (oh, but i don't think the girl thing means anything really. surely not.)


p.s. alex trebeck trash talking on celebrity poker? never been more attracted to a canadian.

September 06, 2005

temp

oh my god, worst workday ever.

it began at 6:30 when i hit snooze. and again at 6:39 when i hit snooze. also at 6:48. i finally got up then abouts and grogily sat at the foot of my bed and stared at my laptop for a bit in the dark. mom came in whistling and told me to get up. i scowled daggers and thought violences at her. then i blogged. after that, i left my room, headed for the bathroom, where i saw the toilet spider. as of 2:30 am last night i loathe the toilet spider, and prio to that we had never even met! this is my first experience with the toilet spider.

*wavy flashback vision*
i am sitting on the toilet...toileting. i get up, wipe, turn to flush, and, what is that clinging to the back of the inner part of the rim? a ginat brown spider??!! aaah! it was inches from my bare ass. it could have done horrible things, it was perfectly poised! yucky! yucky! yucky!
*end squiggles*

this morning, the toilet spider had left it's wattery commode and wandered disturbingly near my towel. i envisioned returning from a hard day of work and showering. i grab my towel and there is toilet spider!! aaaugh!! i didn't kill toilet spider, but i hated him an awful lot. then i showered. in the shower, i though of all my morning ire and realized what it would take to get me to fight war. all one would need to do is deprive me of sleep enough, and then convince me that the enemy was guarding a giant bed. i would be ripping through human flesh and bone within minutes. and the carnage wroght by my bezerker rampage would increase exponentially if the words "down" or "two comforters" were used. i knew then that my pascifist ways would fall to the wayside - i would slaughter my way through ranks of nuns - if i were sleepy enough.

the day didn't really get much better from there. i got dressed after two aborted attempts at business casual and ran to the car. then i ran back inside for driving directions and some cd's. back to the car, drove, dropped mom off, got stuck in traffic, took exit in directions, realized the directions were crap, backtracked, took exit i thought i remembered was correct, arrived at work a half hour late. bugger.

at work: felt super sheepish walking in, having to be lead to my seat, shown how to do things all on my own, etc. typed slowly for about an hour. then, it was break time. ran into a friend. realzed i had been working in the wrong department - shit. told the same people i had just been sheepish at about the tardiness thing that i was in the wrong place. more sheepishness ensued.
got properly positioned, trained, etc. proceded to spend the rest of the day (excluding brief lunch break during which i forgot to punch out - more sheepishness) identifying whether numbers were the same as one another.

-simulation of my day-
same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* not same...*other click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* same! *click* etc.

my eyes went all bleary, my already tired brain went catatonic, i didn't even get to listen to my ipod, and it was cold in the building.

finally, i got to leave, and i braved traffic again to pick mom up and get home. where i promptly got on my laptop to share my horrendous day. there's a moral here, but i can't see the screen anymore and my shoulders are cramping, so i'm just gonna go.



(oh, bright spot, however, was kat's message in comments portion of blog. yay to hearing from her! but mostly my day was like the first day of high school. boredom punctuated by stretches of shame and horror.)

mother just opened my door

mother fucker. i'll stab you in the neck - don't think i won't. i will fucking bleed you, bitch. i will shove a pait of salad tongs sop far up your ass, your duodenum will rupture.

...*sigh* i hate mornings.