Putnawa's Blog

Post #767

2010-03-26T13:28:00.000-07:00

Today is my blogiversary, and my last post was six months ago. I've been thinking about recommitting to blogging, but wonder what I should write about. Your thoughts and suggestions are welcome, but I'll be writing more regularly regardless.

Until next time....

A friendly request

2009-09-27T13:07:00.001-07:00

I've been approached to provide a sample advice column for a friend's tiny publication that, IMHO, could actually grow into something interesting. She's looking for something a little snarky, but with true advisory merit. I'm hoping I can pull it off and become the next controversial syndicated advice columnist from Seattle.

What I'm having trouble with, unfortunately, is coming up with questions to which I can respond authentically. Obviously, when I make up the questions, I'm doing so with an eye to how I'd like to respond. This isn't working for me creatively, nor do I think it's likely to result in good product.

This is where you come in. I would love, love, LOVE it if my dear friends (you) could send me some advice-column-worthy questions -- real or not, yours or not -- that I could use as a starting point for my teeny, tiny endeavor. Please email me or post in the comments.

I'm not sure how this is going to go, so I'm not going to make any guarantees about actually getting back to you with a response, just so you know.

Thanks for your help!

Heartache

2009-09-10T02:50:00.000-07:00

My most recent relationship has come to an end. I had high hopes, but it's clear to me now that it was wishful thinking.

In many ways, she is exactly what I'd want. It would be difficult to find someone who has so many of the qualities I find both attractive and necessary. Unfortunately, there's also a handful of things that I just don't know what to do with.

I thought I could provide the loving and supportive environment she would need to be her best self. Perhaps I fooled myself into thinking I know what her best self could look like, but I think it's more likely that she's interested in other goals. I suppose I could've changed my thinking about how I could be loving and supportive to better match her ideas, but many of the things she wasn't interested in "improving" were, ultimately, hurtful.

Sadly, I reacted to the perceived rejection of my love and support with my worst self. Jealousy, anger, control, and other self-destructive goodies bubbled to the surface, and are now tainting our friendship. At least on my end. She says she doesn't care, and I think I believe her. "I don't care," is a horrible thing to hear from someone you love.

So now I find myself needing to do the impossible: move on. Somewhere I have to find the part of my brain that wants to fix things, to save things, and turn it off. (I was going to type "kill it," but decided that may have been too dramatic and self-indulgent. As if a break-up post isn't self-indulgent enough.)

I feel diminished not having someone to care for. My self-image has taken another knock as I objectively evaluate my behavior in our relationship. I'm angry about the slights I've tolerated during our relationship, and those I'm experiencing now.

Two years ago I was going to take some time off from dating. I wanted to focus on work and graduate school and myself, creating the life I want for myself. And while I was thinking about all of this (and preparing to blog about it, of course), I browsed through the personals on Craigslist. And I saw her ad. I recognized her as someone I'd had a crush on for years, but who always dismissed me when I tried to talk to her. I think she had her sights on someone else at the time. Regardless, I talked myself into taking one last chance. What could it hurt, just one date to see how things might go? They went well. They were great. For most of the next eighteen months, they just got better. I miss those days, and regret that things have ended this way.

Now I grieve for what was, and what could have been. I put the good memories aside for better days, and try to learn the lessons from the difficult times. I get back to focusing on career and graduate school. And, eventually, I'll heal.

Change of address

2009-03-04T10:25:00.000-08:00

My favorite part about reading -- or at least browsing -- through a happy ton of news and information each day is the discovery of sweet little gems like the Micronesian island of Niue. I suddenly have a desperate desire to live in a place whose name translates as "Behold the Coconut."

Google’s Digitized Book Project Hinges on a Retro Kind of Search - NYTimes.com: "So far, more than 200 advertisements have run in more than 70 languages: in highbrow periodicals like The New York Review of Books and The Poetry Review in Britain; in general-interest publications like Parade and USA Today; in obscure foreign trade journals like China Copyright and Svensk Bokhandel; and in newspapers in places like Fiji, Greenland, the Falkland Islands, and the Micronesian island of Niue (the name is roughly translated as Behold the Coconut!), which has one newspaper."

Simply the Best

2009-03-04T09:40:00.000-08:00

BBC NEWS | Entertainment | Tina turns back time in UK return

I'd sell a kidney to see this amazing performer live on stage. I MUST find out if she's planning a show with 300 miles of me!

No surprise to me, but according to this review, she's still got it, too!

My recommendation

2009-02-25T16:33:00.000-08:00

If you're not already following the White House blog, I encourage you to do so. For those not aware, the Clinton White House had a great website, and provided mailing lists on a variety of topics, which was a good way to keep on eye on the happenings in D.C.

The Bush administration was practically covert in terms of their direct communication with citizens, which I feel is counter to the spirit of democracy.

It is refreshing to have this sort of daily access again. The more of us who use this tool during this presidency, the more likely, I hope, it will be that future administrations choose to provide direct communication channels to the people.

Here's hoping.

The White House - Blog Post - Overhaul

No official berry for Oregon.

2009-02-24T13:27:00.000-08:00

Best quote: Given stickier economic issues to deal with, she says, she's "not going to bat over internal disputes in the berry community."

Never get involved in a land war in Asia, and never go to bat over internal disputes in the berry community. Good advice for us all.

Local News | Not enough sweet talk: Ore. state berry squished | Seattle Times Newspaper

Books, books and more books

2009-01-03T12:46:00.000-08:00

The move from Boston to Seattle was traumatic. I had been laid off from my favorite job ever, my relationship of more than six years had ended, and I had to find a way to ship something like 15 boxes of books across North America without spending the entirety of my meager savings.

Three moves later, and I was still hauling boxes of books from apartment to apartment, rarely even getting them unpacked and on the shelves, let alone organized. Or read.

Looking through one of these boxes one day a couple of years ago, I realized I had only read one of the books in the box. And that wasn't technically a "read," as it was a Japanese-English character dictionary from college. I realized then I had an addiction, and that something had to change. The addiction to be addressed, obviously, wasn't my compulsive need to read everything, but was instead the foolish acquisition of dozens of books each year. (Ah, Powell's, you sweet, sweet temptress!)

The books were literally weighing me down every time I needed to move, so I started to trim my collection. College textbooks and weird -- but thoughtful -- gifts were the first to go. Then books I'd read but had no intention of re-reading. Finally I was down to a few signed books, books I love reading again and again, a few sentimental attachments, and a couple of dozen of books I'd yet to read. And even then I decided to make a list and get rid of those and get them from the library when I finally get around to reading them.

I've been reminded of this oppressive sense of attachment and weight these past two weeks, as I've been responsible for moving two -- yes, two -- libraries. The first is the private library of my employer, and the second is an LGBT community library that recently lost its home.

The employer's library is mostly reference books, and is housed in the office. It's moving floors to a more accessible and interesting location. I'm appalled by the subjective and poorly-executed organizational system in use, and I'm trying to refrain from offering to re-organize the whole thing so it makes sense and becomes more usable. (With fully searchable catalog, of course.) But more on that later.

The community library used to be housed at the LGBT community center, but financial troubles has forced the center into restructuring. The services and the library are now being provided through another community non-profit, and I've joined the board of the center to try and get the organization back on its feet and into their own space. It's going to take some work, but it's definitely do-able.

[As an aside, being on a board is hard work, and involves a great deal of responsibility. If you are ever asked, and can't hack it, please don't get involved. Having seen the mess made by the neglect of formerly involved individuals, I know have much less respect for folks I use to consider community leaders. I'll say no more here, but my friend-confessor has heard an earful.]

If anything, both of these experiences has reaffirmed my commitment to maintaining a pared-down personal library. I love books. I love reading. The last two years have been "slow" reading years, in my estimation, and I read 50 and 97 books, respectively, in 2007 and 2008. But this is why I have a borderline erotic fixation on the Seattle Public Library. (Well, really just any public library. I'm a library slut.)

But I love touching books and looking at books and arranging books and cataloging books and searching for books. And this made me think that I also love answering questions and searching for answers and finding new sources of information. So maybe what I really need to do is work at a library. Of course, I can't just work at a library, I'll have to run a library. I guess this means I'm going to have to get that Masters in Library and Information Sciences degree after all.

And I guess that's the point of all this.

Toodles.

I Call BULLSH*T: Detroit Edition

2008-11-18T18:18:00.000-08:00

I'm calling bullshit on all of the reporting I've heard about the Big 3 automakers' panhandling on Capitol Hill today. The criticism that the Big 3 have failed to remain competitive are always balanced prominently by the same fact in both the newspaper and radio stories I've read/heard today: the Big 3 have forced healthcare concessions on the UAW. BULLSHIT!

Remaining competitive would've involved looking forward far enough to realize it was time to move away from the internal combustion engine as we know it to a true 21st-century technology. Before we run out of oil.

If the only way U.S. automakers can think of to remain competitive is screwing their employees on healthcare -- which should be a right for all people everywhere, IMHO -- then I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN they don't deserve $25 billion. Let's use that money to cushion the blow to the workers when these long-past-saving companies are finally cut away from the far-too-close-to-gangrenous body economic.

Fail Blog

2008-11-06T23:42:00.000-08:00

Well, more like a fail post.

Today I failed at my relationship. Maybe it was already over, and I just didn't know. Maybe I'm entirely to blame. Maybe I don't know what's really going on inside someone else's head because we haven't talked in two weeks.

Regardless, I pushed when I should've waited, and now I've failed.

F***, feeling stupid only makes the heartache worse. Lesson learned, I guess.

G*d, I'm sad.

UPDATE: Things seem to not have been a total failure, although I thought otherwise.

Election Night

2008-11-05T21:09:00.000-08:00

To be clear, Obama was never my candidate. He doesn't inspire me, but I'm happy that he inspires so many. Hopefully he'll live up to his potential/expectations.

Last night, after listening to Obama's victory speech, I walked up to Capitol Hill. I wasn't disappointed. People were celebrating in the street. I wish I had continued down the hill to see the party down by the market; that would've been something else entirely.

It was fun to see, but I wish I had been able to connect with some friends or something to celebrate with. For perhaps the first time in a long time, however, I didn't really see many people I knew. Well, not that I could get to, at least.

Anyway, I've been thinking about last night all day.

Creepiness continues

2008-10-07T18:59:00.000-07:00

Sen. McCain is also creepy when he tries to utilize humor. Could he seem any stiffer and more uncomfortable? Someone should've slipped him a drink to loosen up the poor guy.

In fairness, I don't like Obama. I'm voting for him, so keep your hair on, but I don't like him. I'm not inspired. In fact, I continue to be disappointed with Democrats across the board.

To me, Obama seems like a condescending schmuck. I like his ideas and his approach better than McCain's, but I'm not happy to be supporting him. It's taking the fun out of democracy for me.

An open letter to Sen. John McCain

2008-10-07T18:44:00.001-07:00

Dear Senator McCain,

I am not your friend. I do not want to be your friend. Calling us "my friends" is really starting to get on my nerves. Knock it off.

Not voting for you regardless,
Putnawa

I'm watching the debate

2008-10-07T18:23:00.001-07:00

John McCain is creepy when he tries to get close to the audience during this town hall debate.

Al Jazeera English - Americas - US bail-out rejection stuns markets

2008-09-29T14:19:00.000-07:00

Al Jazeera English - Americas - US bail-out rejection stuns markets

I'm interested in hearing what other people think.

A) Is there going to be a bail-out?
B) If there is a bail-out, will it shore up the U.S. economy enough to stave off disaster, or will the economy continue its bumpy ride until it eventually self-corrects years down the road?
C) Will the bread-and-butter issue reflect negatively on Republicans and cost them votes even among social conservatives in November?

Driven to post by this interminable campaign

2008-09-04T20:20:00.000-07:00

A volunteer for the Obama campaign called me this evening and was appalled when I stated that I was no longer interested in volunteering and that, furthermore, I would not be supporting Obama's candidacy.

Everyone assumes that means I'm supporting McCain, but that's simply ridiculous. Seeing photographs of McCain and Palin standing next to each other, it looks as though some demented senior has been photographed next to his indulgent nursing home adminstrater. They both sound like poorly scripted ventriloquist's dummies in their speeches. (I suspect it has something to do with the fact that neither of them ever actually say what they think or feel about any issue, but instead parrot whatever it is they're told to by Republican party hacks for the play it will get on Fox News or talk radio. Or from conservative pulpits.) It doesn't help that her political career in Alaska requires no media savvy whatsoever, as the standards in the last frontier have almost reached Nixonian standards.

Truthfully, if I abandoned myself fully to cynicism and relinquished my belief in the ideal of competent and sound government, I could happily volunteer for the Obama campaign. It's a thought that I'm still kicking around. I guess I could put my thoughts like this: the Bush presidency is an example of malfeasance. I believe an Obama presidency would be an example of misfeasance, or even non-feasance. More simply put, Bush did wrong on purpose; Obama will either do wrong accidentally, or will do nothing. I'm not sure which of those is worse.

What it boils down to is that I don't see Obama as a leader, a policy wonk, a champion, a fighter, an inspiration or a servant. It requires some combination of those roles to be the sort of president I think we need right now. However, as the adage goes, we don't get the government we need, we get the government we deserve. Clearly the same can be said of candidates.

Marketplace: IRS making sure your rebate gets spent

2008-04-01T20:52:00.000-07:00

Marketplace: IRS making sure your rebate gets spent

Be sure to read/listen to the entire story. Outrageous!

All in the family

2007-10-17T11:32:00.000-07:00

MSNBC reports that Lynne Cheney, wife of Vice President Dick Cheney, revealed Tuesday that her husband and Democratic Sen. Barack Obama of Illinois — who wants to be the nation’s first black president — are eighth cousins. She said she discovered the two were related while researching her ancestry for her latest book, “Blue Skies, No Fences,” a memoir about growing up in Wyoming. “Every family has a black sheep,” Obama spokesman Bill Burton told The Associated Press.

Order of operations

2007-10-08T21:55:00.000-07:00

I forgot to call my friends Stacie and Kyle for dinner tonight. They're in town from Oregon; Kyle is attending a conference. Nuts.

Perhaps if I hadn't left my cell phone at the office I would've been reminded that I was supposed to call them. As it was, I did leave my phone at the office, and when I got home I changed out of my fancy three-piece suit and into jeans and a hoodie. I grabbed the library books I needed to return, and put them in my fancy reusable shopping bag. (Despite not being the member of my household who is procreating, apparently I'm much more concerned that human life be able to sustain itself on this planet for more than 50 more years. Whatever.)

Anyway, so I walked north several blocks just for the fun of it, and then west straight up a vertical wall, which is known here in Seattle as Capitol Hill. I returned my library books, and then went to the grocery store.

At the grocery store I purchased sugar, sweetened condensed milk, aluminum loaf pans of a semi-disposable variety, a box of organic unsweetened soy milk that is related to an as-yet-unused 2006 Christmas present, and some facial scrub. I also eyeballed seriously a large bottle of pumpkin ale from a local brewery, but that's none of your business.

Then I walked home. Round trip: 2.8 miles on the conservative estimate.

Once home, I baked my second batch of zucchini bread, producing three fresh loaves to augment my remaining second loaf from the first batch. I've frozen one of them, and will take another to work tomorrow, so I suspect that the remaining two loaves (Keep up. It's sort of a nightmare word problem from third-grade math.) will last approximately 23 hours from now.

While the brhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifead was in the oven (My sister is pregnant, by the way.), I stir-fried some chicken in my easy stand-by: stir-fried chicken and garlic with soy sauce over rice. It's an easy way to deal with a couple of chicken breasts, and it makes a nice dinner and a good couple of lunches. Also, I love chicken and rice. With dinner I had two glasses of wine. Then I had another glass of wine while cleaning up the kitchen.

Fancy.

During the walk, the cooking, and the cleaning, I listened to podcasts of various public radio programs. I am now addicted to public radio podcasts in the same way I'm addicted to ItsYourTurn.com
. I download them through iTunes and listen to them at home and on my iPod Shuffle to and from and at work.

Moving on from the podcasts, I decided it was time for a hot toddy while I caught up on my e-mail and such. My e-mail didn't last as long as my hot toddy, so I decided to continue a little project upon which I embarked last night: organizing two playlists of my Christmas music. I want one for a quiet evening enjoying my Christmas tree/lights, and another for when I have guests over for a holiday party. Of course, in order to organize playlists of Christmas music one must listen to Christmas music, even in October. So now I'm on my second hot toddy and my third Christmas album.

Thank God I have headphones.

News to me

2007-10-05T08:14:00.001-07:00

I just found out that the NHL suffered a strike. In the 2004-05 season. In 2004-05, I heard more about professional poker than I did about the hockey strike. The NHL has a problem.

From A Man for All Seasons:

2007-09-20T11:32:00.001-07:00

Sir Thomas More: Not so. Not so, Master Secretary. The maxim is "Qui tacet consentiret": the maxim of the law is "Silence gives consent." If therefore you wish to construe what my silence betokened, you must construe that I consented, not that I denied.

Cromwell: Is that in fact what the world construes from it? Do you pretend that is what you wish the world to construe from it?

Sir Thomas More: The world must construe according to its wits; this court must construe according to the law.

Duty

2007-08-01T12:24:00.001-07:00

Fifty-four percent of the people called for jury duty make me cranky. I've never been called, but I have always wanted to serve. Granted, I may not make it through voir dire, but at least I would show up when called.

Dead Men Tell No Tales

2007-08-01T12:17:00.001-07:00

Unfortunately, dead novelists can publish forever. I'm all for a writer making money in the publishing biz. It's certainly difficult enough, so I can't say they don't earn it in some fashion. But this is ridiculous. I just can't see an author as a brand. Everything that goes into a writer's work is uniquely "them" in some way. Even a talented imitator isn't "you", no matter how much of your material - characters, settings, plot continuations - they use.

Could Picasso have done the same thing, so we'd always end up with new Picassos?

I don't like it, to say the least.

Al Jazeera English - News - Rwanda Abolishes Death Penalty

2007-07-27T10:25:00.000-07:00

Al Jazeera English - News - Rwanda Abolishes Death Penalty

Rwanda. Does it take a genocide for folks to decide they don't want to give the state the power to do something that cannot be undone? I hope not.

From our open letters division

2007-07-26T11:16:00.000-07:00

Dear Assholes,

You're not funny. Please seek some sort of assistance in developing better decision-making skills.

Thanks,
The Entire World.

E-mail: More stupefying than marijuana

2007-07-25T11:02:00.000-07:00

From an article on e-mail from The Independent newspaper:

One study from Hewlett-Packard, for instance, found that workers constantly distracted by e-mail and phone calls suffer a temporary 10-point fall in their IQ – more than twice that found in studies of the impact of smoking a joint.

Minimum Wage Goes Up

2007-07-24T09:09:00.001-07:00

That's $12,168/year, or $1,014/month. Before taxes.

Sent to you by Matthew via Google Reader:

Minimum Wage Goes Up

via NYT > National by THE ASSOCIATED PRESS on Jul 24, 2007

The minimum wage rises 70 cents to $5.85 an hour today, the first increase in a decade.

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Wanderlust, Again

2007-07-18T12:58:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's the rain today, or maybe it's because I haven't been camping yet this summer, but I really want to be here. Right now. Mm, mountains!

Billy Tipton's Accordion

2007-07-18T12:56:00.000-07:00

This accordion, purchased from the estate of jazz legend Billy Tipton by the previous owner, is now mine.

I shall learn to play the accordion shortly.

Escape from Seattle

2007-07-15T14:23:00.001-07:00

My role at work yesterday was to take photos of our event. I suppose I was successful; I took 646 photos. The trick will be going through them on Monday to determine if any of them are worth anything. The odds are good, but I'm not that great a photographer.

The original plan was to head out of town after the event ended with some buddies to go camping. That plan turned into an overnight road trip to Portland, which ended up with a quiet night in the world's crappiest Holiday Inn in Gresham. (The customer service wasx rubbish, but the hotel was nice. Although the "heated" pool was frigid.)

We're spending a few minutes at a coffee shop in Gresham, and then we're back to Portland for a little pilgrimage to Powell's, probably a meal, and then back home. It's been nice to be out of Seattle for a bit. I needed a little break.

Absent

2007-07-13T22:06:00.001-07:00

I've been hunkered down this year. Maybe I can pretend that I'm adjusting to the new job.

No. Not really.

Most likely my life hasn't been very interesting lately, and I've been spending all my time with my friends or taking care of business.

I've also been retooling my goals to better reflect what I'm interested in right now. I have to say that of the two projects that are underway (and are mostly top-secret), I have more support for them than I ever did for my writing.

I suppose that's partly because I never shared much of my writing, but some of my other skills are more easily on display in everyday life. (Oddly enough, now that I'm writing every day for work I'm not at all interested in completing the few odd projects that I have started. I thought at first I was just worn out after eight hours of writing, but I finally realized I am just more interested in my new goals.)

I also bought a camera recently, so look for some photos soon. The downside is that Picasa doesn't work with my iBook, so I'm going to have to upload from some other machine, but that is only a minor issue. I am looking forward to finally being able to share the strange and wonderous things that I see whilst out and about our fair city.

In friend news, Sheesh was in town early this week, and we had an inadvertently pretentious drink and a tasty and pleasant dinner. It was good to see her again after five years, although I think our friendship could've been maintained better, a situation I take the responsiblity for. Sheesh is from the era when I kept myself to myself mostly, and did a poor job of being a close friend.

That may be awkward to write about someone who reads the blog, but that's what I was thinking at dinner.

Anyway, I'm getting picked up at 6:30 a.m., so it's off to get some sleep now.

Damn, it's been a long time since I really bothered to post something. Nuts.

Sad news - Lady Bird Johnson dead at 94

2007-07-11T15:38:00.001-07:00

Sent to you by Matthew via Google Reader:

US former First Lady Johnson dies

via BBC News | News Front Page | World Edition on Jul 11, 2007

Claudia Alta Taylor Johnson, the wife of former US President Lyndon B Johnson, dies aged 94.

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The Big Harry Potter News This Week

2007-07-09T15:36:00.001-07:00

I am totally going to this free concert at the library.

Sent to you by Matthew via Google Reader:

The Big Harry Potter News This Week

via Seattlest by MvB on Jul 09, 2007

Oh, snap! That should read "The Big Harry and the Potters News This Week." The authors of songs such as "Save Ginny Weasley" and "Gryffindor Rocks" are touring the Northwest, and Friday they end up in Seattle for a performance we hear will be "AMAZING!" Hear more of their indie-HP geek stylings MySpace, then make plans to catch them live. Seriously. A friend of our says they really do rock.

July 11th, Wednesday Tacoma Armory 7pm, FREE! 715 S 11th Street, Tacoma WA 98405 Our show in Tac-town last year was ABSOLUTELY WILD! Let's do it again! Come smell the aroma of ROCK!
July 12th, Thursday
Olympia Timberland Library
9:30pm, FREE!
313 8th Ave SE, Olympia, 98501
Very special after-hours show in the library! We're gonna TEAR IT UP!

July 13th, Friday
Seattle Public Library
7pm, FREE!
1000 Fourth Ave, Seattle, WA 98104
WOW! YES! AGAIN! THIS WILL BE AMAZING!

Like us, you might be surprised to learn that Harry and the Potters are not the sole members of their wizard rock niche. There's also The Parselmouths and The Remus Lupins -- check out the shameless pandering here to prep for the next and final book's appearance. Oh, and some movie opens this week, too.

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Peace in our time? No, never.

2007-07-02T15:34:00.001-07:00

Sent to you by Matthew via Google Reader:

Bon Soir, Hamas Mickey

via Slog by BRENDAN KILEY on Jul 02, 2007

A Palestinian TV station has killed off a controversial Mickey Mouse lookalike that critics said was spreading anti-US and anti-Israeli messages to children.

The Hamas-affiliated al-Aqsa channel aired the last episode on Friday, showing the character, Farfur, being beaten to death by an "Israeli agent".

(Via BBC.)

Farfur's ostensible martyrdom (though his shrill voice might drive anyone into a homicidal rage) here:

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Can't get enough CBC

2007-07-02T15:02:00.000-07:00

I love me some David Suzuki:

Colour

2007-07-02T09:29:00.001-07:00

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Colour

via Slog by MEGAN SELING on Jul 01, 2007

Yeah, it's just a commercial for a television that I'll never be able to afford, but it's really cool!

Watch it.

Our latest TV ad - featuring massive paint explosions - took 10 days and 250 people to film. Huge quantities of paint were needed to accomplish this, which had to be delivered in 1 tonne trucks and mixed on-site by 20 people.
The effect was stunning, but afterwards a major clean-up operation was required to clear away all that paint!

The cleaning took 5 days and 60 people. Thankfully, the use of a special water-based paint made it easy to scrape-up once the water had evaporated.

Keeping everyone safe was also an important factor. A special kind of non-toxic paint was used that is safe enough to drink (it contains the same thickeners that are sometimes used in soups). It was also completely harmless to the skin.

(Thanks to Colin for the tip.)

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I love Bob Fosse.

2007-06-27T09:51:00.001-07:00

I really, really do.

If you're not "in the know", note the stylistic difference between 2:35 and 3:51 and the rest of the craptastic choreography.

Olbermann on MSNBC

2007-05-24T10:18:00.000-07:00

Sweet fucking Jesus, are you kidding me?!

2007-05-23T16:38:00.000-07:00

Nominee to Head Consumer Agency Withdraws. Maybe it has something to do with him receiving a $150,000 departure payment from his previous employer, the National Association of Manufacturers. Maybe.

fuck.

2007-05-23T16:30:00.000-07:00

Why is David Suzuki's head so damn big down there? Nuts.

Missing something?

2007-05-23T16:26:00.000-07:00

Today is Wednesday, but it feels like it's been the longest Monday in the history of time. I'm a little ball of stress. I perked up a little bit with this story about a piano. I suspect the real story is a clandestine attempt to get rid of a family heirloom nobody in the family really wanted, but then I'm a bit of a conspiracy nut.

Now back to the tiredness and the stress. (Never fear, it's temporary.)

Sweet the vindication of history

2007-05-21T08:36:00.000-07:00

Vandals

2007-05-14T11:45:00.000-07:00

Attorney Generals ask MySpace to locate sex offenders

2007-05-14T11:40:00.000-07:00

From my understanding of this letter from the story, these AGs are asking MySpace to not only to figured out the names of all the registered sex offenders in the country, but then cross-reference them with their membership lists, then provide that information to states. Seems like a blunt instrument to keep pedophiles away from kids.

If, as part of the conditions of their release, sex offenders are forbidden contact with minors, it would seem that it would be easier to approach this issue through the sex offenders. Supposedly we know where to find registered sex offenders. Although I suppose there is some difficulty if they aren't using private computers. Libraries and, to a lesser extent, internet cafes aren't too keen to turn over usage logs.

2007-05-11T09:46:00.000-07:00

Dean at M.I.T. Resigns, Ending a 28-Year Lie - New York Times

2007-04-27T08:11:00.000-07:00

A real-life Thomas Hardy tragedy, which is what the director of the M.I.T. program in writing and humanistic studies called it.

Dean at M.I.T. Resigns, Ending a 28-Year Lie - New York Times

Earth Day

2007-04-22T21:19:00.000-07:00

In honor of Earth day, here is a picture of my favorite environmentalist.

HP Hates Trees

2007-04-09T10:01:00.001-07:00

This feels like five steps backwards. Are we really in a race to destroy our environment and somebody forgot to tell us?

Science is Cool!

2007-03-13T12:10:00.000-07:00

Lunar Eclipse From Space | Slog | The Stranger's Blog | The Stranger | Seattle's Only Newspaper

Daylights Saved, and Pineapples Expressed

2007-03-11T22:59:00.000-07:00

I've been in bed for an hour reading and listening to the rain fall against my window. I've had six distinct thoughts and finally had to put down my book and post them.

I miss my crazy grandma. I can trace my appreciation of the sound of rain to her. Spending the night at her house - a trailer - on a rainy night is sort of the quintessential memory of spending time with grandma.
I want to go camping. The best camping trips are the ones that are objectively miserable, but are saved by sharing them with good friends.
It's warm enough for me to want to go out and lie down in the mud and let the rain soak me to the bones. Were it not for my nasty neighborhood I might have done it.
Being so into someone that you can make out with them in the rain and not even notice is one of my favorite feelings. At least, that's how I remember it.
Three places I love to be in the rain: the mountains, the beach, and the city.
I also like to be snuggled on the couch with a lover and a warm beverage with the window open just watching and listening.

Good night, Mr. Humphries

2007-03-08T17:36:00.000-08:00

Independent Online Edition > Obituaries

Well, no shit.

2007-03-08T17:33:00.000-08:00

Truly, one of the most obvious conclusions reached by a study. Therefore, it will have no appreciable impact on policy or behavior.Independent Online Edition > Health Medical

chasing my tail

2007-03-06T20:08:00.001-08:00

months have gone by and i've done nothing but chase my tail the entire time. let me tell you, the view sucks. nobody should have to look at their own asshole so much.

my heart's been broken five times in about as many months. three times it was my fault. the other two, well, let's not point fingers.

everyone has an opinion, so they're sort of like assholes, too. at least that's what i've heard. maybe it's because most of the time they stink? the opinions, i mean.

i've been told to write. sometimes i do. it hasn't been coming out right, except in my journal. i'm not one to confuse my journal with poetry, though, so i'll spare you the most of it.

lies. i'll spare you all of it.

but i'll write some poetry, too, if that makes you happy. mostly because i miss the stage. the microphone does incredible things to my voice; at least in my head. sometimes i wish i had one at home to practice. in fact, i do have a microphone at home, just not an amplifier. perhaps a future purpose. the roommates would love that.

words to live by: make a plan and make it happen. early stages on that front, but at least there's an idea of a plan. clarity of thought comes from journal writing, too. i measure my journal in megabytes. it's sort of like counting sit-ups by minutes. in short, it's the wrong way to do it.

the dogs are barking, but nobody's punched me in the face. i take a gut shot now and again, but there's padding there so it'll be okay. unless my spleen ruptures. the spleen takes a great deal of abuse. i hide my secrets there, but i think they're leaking out.

and when everything else feels dark and dreary the thing to do is sit down with a laptop and a bottle of red and write cryptic thoughts for public consumption.

what happens next?

Seattlest: This American Life, Seattle Edition

2007-02-23T09:11:00.000-08:00

Seattlest: This American Life, Seattle Edition

The week has been full of news, which I thought was capped off by yesterday's revelation that the den of iniquity near my house has lost it's liquor license. Then there was this.

It's like the icing on the icing on the cake.

Al Jazeera English - Europe

2007-02-14T10:22:00.000-08:00

Al Jazeera English - Europe

You know how some people say they're not that into kids? Apparently neither is anyone else.

BBC NEWS | Science/Nature | Large squid lights up for attack

2007-02-14T10:00:00.000-08:00

BBC NEWS | Science/Nature | Large squid lights up for attack

Life is amazing.

F.B.I. Lags in Securing Its Laptops and Weapons - New York Times

2007-02-12T21:52:00.000-08:00

F.B.I. Lags in Securing Its Laptops and Weapons - New York Times

I suspect we'll soon be reading about how the F.B.I. has come up 160 short. Please be on the look-out for eight-score federal law-enforcement agents. They'll probably be wearing cheap suits and sunglasses.

Vulnerability

2007-02-11T21:23:00.000-08:00

I was going to write a post about an incident related to a wound I inflicted upon myself and the subsequent panic and overreaction that resulted in being nursed by three people, but I can't get past the first paragraph without making myself woozy.

Sort of I disgust myself with this weakness.

Man's jewels stolen at gunpoint

2007-02-08T13:11:00.000-08:00

Man's jewels stolen at gunpoint

A colloquial interpretation of this headline would lead to a much more interesting, albeit tragic, story. I'm just saying.

Read more about it here.

A Little Break From Work

2007-02-07T14:37:00.000-08:00

Apparently if you camp out 300 meters from your house, the RCMP won't be able to find you. Silly Mounties.

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Recently, a Seattle newspaper had this to say about the weather: "Enjoy the clear skies and sunshine, because the weather probably won't stay this nice for long." They get downright perky, don't they?

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Should you find yourself trapped indoors, the webmaster at Powells.com has some tips:

INTERMISSION WITH BROCKMAN, BLOGMASTER:
BROCKMAN'S 10 THINGS TO DO WHEN YOU'RE TRAPPED INSIDE FOR THE WINTER

This past week, Portland was deluged with snow for two whole days. Most of us didn't make it to work the first day, and found ourselves wondering what to do for an entire day. Snowball fights and snow angels are fun for about fifteen minutes, but then what? If you should find yourself in a similar predicament, here are a few suggestions:

1. Read a book. (Obvious, I know, but effective.)

2. Eat a book. (Not as obvious, but still quite delicious when boiled to a soft texture and basted with something tasty, like a fine chipotle sauce, or catsup.)

3. Go online for a Wiki-splosion. (Start with a random Wikipedia entry and jump from one to the next until the entire day is finished and your head is full of possibly inaccurate, most likely obscure, but almost definitely awesome factoids, innuendos, half-truths, exaggerations, and outright lies.)

4. Start a blog. (Everyone's doing it.)

5. Go on a quest for MySpace friends. (Set yourself a goal you can achieve say, 1,500 friends and don't stop asking random strangers to add you as a friend until you've reached the desired goal. For an advanced challenge: don't eat, use the bathroom, or pay bills until you've reached your goal. And no cheating.)

6. Living room luge. (All you need is a small sled, lots of furniture, a vivid imagination, and many, many, many cushions.)

7. WarWindowCraft. (Draw your own fantasy character on a window facing a neighbor's window, on which his/her character has been drawn. Write your hit points and other stats next to your character (use a 20-sided die to determine these amounts, naturally). Cross out the appropriate numbers after each hit; whoever gets to zero first loses. This only works with neighbors who are equally bored and/or geeky and/or are too cheap to pay the monthly fee for World of WarCraft.)

8. Unsnark Hunt. (Page through reviews in a newspaper or magazine and cross out all the negative adjectives, replace them with positive ones, and mail that page to the author whose book was torn to pieces.)

9. Read aloud with music and sound effects. (Even the best novels are rendered more vivid when the reader supplies his/her own soundtrack. "'Call me Ishmael.' Dunh-dunh-DUNH!! POW! BAM! VRRRRR...EEEEEEEEEESH!" (Don't ask me what that last sound effect was, but it sounds great when hollered at top volume at passing coworkers.))

10. Do anything naked. (Just keep your blinds shut. NOTE: "Anything" excludes WarWindowCraft.)

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Here's a paragraph written by F. Scott Fitzgerald shortly before he died. It has been argued that in this paragraph you will discover all you need to know about writing and about life is in this paragraph:

Of course all life is a process of breaking down, but the blows that do the dramatic side of the work—the big sudden blows that come, or seem to come, from outside—the ones you remember and blame things on and, in moments of weakness, tell your friends about, don’t show their effect all at once. There is another sort of blow that comes from within—that you don’t feel until it’s too late to do anything about it, until you realize with finality that in some regard you will never be as good a man again. The first sort of breakage seems to happen quick—the second kind happens almost without your knowing it but is realized suddenly indeed.

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Grumpy workers are the best workers. So they say. But I really dig the grumpy idea-bulb. It's pure graphic-design genius.

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This corner is cursed.

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The Independent reported on cuddle parties crossing the Atlantic. Here's what you need to know:

How to heal with a hug

To give a proper heart-warming cuddle, you need to grasp the body language of hugging. The most common hug among the British is the shoulder-clasp. This involves leaning forward, politely touching the huggee's shoulders and kissing the air on either side of their cheeks.

"With the vast majority of hugs, people hold their bodies back," says Mike Skilbeck, a teacher of biodanza, a dance therapy with an emphasis on hugging. "The lack of contact doesn't make you feel appreciated."

Be daring the next time you contemplate a hug. Once in the hugging position, stay there. Enjoy the cuddle rather than try to escape it. For a proper "therapeutic" cuddle, keep hugging for at least a minute. Notice how it makes you feel.

Hugging like this makes some people feel uncomfortable. But once you get used to it, most find that it eases tension, and encourages positive emotions.

The power of touch

Research is confirming that affectionate touch is a good all-round medicine. So what are the benefits?

* HEART DISEASE A 20-second daily hug improves heart function and lowers blood pressure by triggering the release of the hormone oxytocin.

* IMMUNITY Hugging lowers levels of cortisol, a stress hormone that weakens immunity.

* STRESS Positive physical touch has an immediate anti-stress effect, slowing breathing and heart rate.

* MOOD A good hug rapidly induces relaxation and wellbeing. The raised level of oxytocin counters negative emotions and boosts feelings of bonding.

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There's a Wonder Woman film in the works. I put $20 on a cameo by Linda Carter.

Raise More Hell

2007-01-31T20:55:00.000-08:00

It's rare that I choose to write a post through tears, but this is one of those times. One of my all-time favorites, columnist, liberal, and Texan hell-raiser Molly Ivins died today. It is a tragedy her life didn't outlast the Bush administration. Nobody wrote about Shrub with more clarity and insight than Ivins.

The chorus of reason has lost a voice.

Disappointed King

2007-01-16T09:48:00.001-08:00

I generally avoid television news because they do so many things that I dislike, but I came across a story about <a href="http://www.mediathatmattersfest.org/6/index.php?id=2 ">this documentary film</a> while searching news clippings for work today.

I have issues with some of the things in the film, but I don't feel like taking up my workday with a nuanced dissertation on racial identity. I will say, however, that the kids in the doll test in the film absolutely break my heart.

Winning is everything when you play against yourself

2007-01-15T23:33:00.000-08:00

it's time for me to live alone again. I really hope neither of the roommates comes home and catches me rocking out to the iPod.

Picture it: me, hoodie, jeans, slippers, iPod. I cooked and ate dinner, made tomorrow's lunch, and cooked a stir-fry in advance, just to get ahead of the game. The entire time I'm groovin' to the eclectics sylings of apparently every artist that touched my heart during all 31 of my formative years.

[I need to re-size my other photos so I can get some more posted here.]

It sounds all energetic and exciting and fun, doesn't it? It's a sure sign that I'm 100% freaked out.

This is one of those watershed moments when one runs right up to the limits of one's current ways of living and realizes there's something on the other side. Sadly, I'm a big 'fraidy cat, so I'm going to job away from those limits thirty or so yards, and then run as fast as I can to get enough momentum to break through to the other side.

Sounds dangerous, doesn't it? I'd rather engage in a more literal activity, like jumping through plate glass windows at the Safeway.

I admit it's difficult and scary, but I am also committed to the end result. Growth and self-awareness are worthy goals, even if the way to get there goes through the ugly territory of not lying to myself. [The last thing I want to hear the voices in my head saying is, "I can't trust you."]

So I'm sitting at this threshhold, or entry way, or junction, or whatever it should be called were it known by it's own name. Looking at I see these new fears that weren't overcome in the last watershed-ish event, and I'm girding myself for the internal battles that will have to take place to succeed.

It turns out the football coach was right: Win, or die. Who'da thunk?

Words From My Mouth

2006-12-25T11:54:00.000-08:00

"I'm a man of many sides. I'm a puzzle. I'm a Rubik's cube with pants." --Tim Allen, in Santa Clause II

Media Trained

2006-12-21T12:51:00.000-08:00

Good samaritans rescue Greyhound passengers; Washington State Patrol spokesperson is exceptionally dramatic:

"Fire personnel and troopers responded to the scene," State Patrol spokesman Jeff Merrill said in a statement. "Upon their arrival they confirmed that the bus was a raging inferno." [Emphasis added.]

Squirming With Delight

2006-12-18T20:40:00.000-08:00

...and wriggling with pleasure is the reaction I have while reading Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events. The opening paragraph of Chapter Two of Book #7, The Vile Village is a prime example:

Of all the ridiculous expressions people use -- and people use a great many ridiculous expressions -- one of the most ridiculous is "No news is good news." "No news is good news" simply means that if you don't hear from someone, everything is probably fine, and you can see at once why this expression makes such little sense, because everything being fine is only one of many, many reasons why someone may not contact you. Perhaps they are tied up. Maybe they are surrounded by fierce weasels, or perhaps they are wedged tightly between two refrigerators and cannot get themselves out. The expression might well be changed to "No news is bad news," except that people may not be able to contact you because they have just been crowned king or are competing in a gymnastics tournament. The point is that there is no way to know why someone has not contacted you, until they contact you and explain themselves. For this reason, the sensible expression would be "No news is no news," except that it is so obvious it is hardly an expression at all.

See what I mean? Lovely.

Broken Hearts

2006-12-14T22:22:00.000-08:00

Stormy nights do it for me. They always have.

Windstorms, lightning, blizzards; I love 'em all.

Cat and Iowa came over for dinner tonight. I made a good effort on dinner and am fairly pleased with the results. We had the most garlicky potatoes I've ever had the privilege to absolutely savor, and they were reason enough to celebrate.

The wind is blowing like nobody's business tonight, and my guests have gone. I would rather have someone to snuggle with tonight, but I'm going to settle for a nice winter brew (Pyramid's Snow Cap Ale), some fudge-stripe cookies and Nutella (Don't knock it 'till you try it.), and some melancholy tunes from Vince Guaraldi's soundtrack from "Charlie Brown's Christmas". It doesn't quite beat a warm body and a loving squeeze, but I can make do in a pinch.

It's been a long four months, but that's another post for another day.

Just remember I love you.

Hiatus.

2006-08-11T11:56:00.000-07:00

Hi.

I'm taking the blog offline for a while. Well, it will still be up and available for viewing, but there won't be new posts for a bit. Let me know if you find something interesting to read and I'll link to it.

Thanks!

I Got The Blues

2006-07-30T22:28:00.000-07:00

...and not just on the radio. They were also in a book I just finished, Saturday. SPOILER ALERT!!I know the protagonist/narrator is a surgeon, but did I really need to read a graphic description of a surgery? No.END SPOILER ALERT!

But they don't seem to be in the book I'm reading now, which is just some fluffy mystery while I wait for the "real" books to get in at the library. I've managed to catch up with my new releases reading list and, with everything in boxes, I can't find my ever-growing general reading list. Although there's little hope that I'll make considerable headway, barring the achievement of immortality.

I was going to write more about why I'm in a funk, but every time I do I realize that it involves more personal disclosure than I'm comfortable with, especially as prospective employers have been known to Google potentital employees. I've been tossing around the idea of shutting down the blog altogether, which would be a disappointment to me as much as anyone else.

Of course, when I feel threatened and vulnerable I generally hide, and this is probably just a reaction to that feeling. (Although it should be noted that I am not so naive as to assume an expectation of privacy. I am choosing to publish on the World Wide Web, effectively giving every yahoo with a connection access to my endless blatherings.)

Blah. I don't want to think about this anymore. I'm either going to read my mystery or watch my Netflix and wish for a miracle. Or pray for one. I'm not certain which verb is appropriate, really.

Scorching

2006-07-21T16:06:00.000-07:00

There are times when I feel I moved directly from fetus to sage, with no childhood, adolescence, or adulthood between the two states. Born perhaps from an over-developed sense of propriety and professionalism, my default response seems to be paternalistic and patronizing. It doesn't help matters that many people seem to expect more of me than I've ever promised to deliver. It is a strange dynamic.

I could've finished it during a cold winter month, but I couldn't get more than half-way through Happiness: A History. Mostly it is a preference for scholarly work to be written more like a textbook and less like a story, especially a story with obvious narrative interjections. Now I have moved on to Mary Doria Russell's The Sparrow. It is sci-fi and Jesuits in the most perfect combination imaginable.

The story is, apparently, continued in the next book I'm going to read, Children of God. Cat's assessment is that Children is more accurately a continuation than a sequel.

But my real point is that I highly recommend everything Russell has written. I first read A Thread of Grace, and fell in love. Russell writes beautifully. That's all there is to it. That she tackles human nature so successfully in the process is, more often than not, breathtaking. (And I mean that quite literally.)

I Don't Like My Attitude

2006-07-18T22:11:00.000-07:00

I really don't like my attitude when I'm in the mood to get into a fight. Maybe I just need to be wrestled to the ground and slapped around a bit. That's probably it. Sometimes I get too big for my britches and need some re-education. Sam was sometimes the Hobbes to my Calvin and would occasionally jump out of a tree and knock me around a bit in fun. It was a good way to burn off some excess emotional energy that didn't otherwise have an outlet.

I seem to be incapable of winning a game of Scrabble. I game as close as I've ever come and only managed to lose by 30-odd points. On the other hand, Eli is a Scrabble wizard and could knock the socks off a nun with his mad skills.

My current job search has brought me to the point of considering an inter-city move. (It is unlikely to bring me to Chicago, Sheesh, unless there's a hell of a job. I can't move from vegan-friendly Seattle to uber-kielbasa Chicago in one step. Talk about your culture shock!) Truthfully I haven't given much thought to it, so I guess most non-Texan towns are on the list of possible locations. If I do move out of Seattle my goal is to fit all of my belongings into a Geo Metro. Not that I'm going to move with a Metro, but I'm going to borrow one and only take with me those things I can cram into it. (Plus room for a driver with adequte sight lines. There are rules to the little games I play with myself. Challenging rules.)

I need to get a haircut. I'm tempted to just take the clippers to it myself and call it a summer 'do. I am one grouchy-pants these days. Maybe I should've signed up for the boxing gym when my friend Cat did. At least then I'd have a chance to wear myself out each day. Burning off some energy can only be a good thing.

This coffee shop closes in 90 minutes and I don't know if I'm going to go home now or when they close. I wish I had a coin to flip.

Bloggity-blogging

2006-07-17T20:51:00.000-07:00

I've done a lot of bloggity-blogging since I started this bidness all the way back in two-double-aught-three, in the wet, dreary month of March. I have nothing more to add to that statement at this time.

Today I am a raw, gaping wound of emotional need. It isn't pretty, and it makes me want to cry. Or throw up. Maybe both, but definitely one or the other before I sleep. I suppose the good news is that I'm seeing a counselor. The bad news is that it keeps my emotional mess on the surface while I work through it.

Life is like the most frustrating video game ever. Every time you get past a level a new, more difficult level rears its challenging head. And, if you're doing it right, you're gaining skills along the way, which means that each successive challenge is going to tax your newfound -- and well-earned -- skills. If you reach a plateau, yuou've probably died.

So I guess the good news is that I'm not dead yet. The bad news is I may end up crying or throwing up before I get home, as I'm writing this in the coffee-coffee shop shop.

I also didn't get to go to the lake today because the weather became cloudy and cool. Seattle summers are a bit of a tease that way. I still like the weather here better than elsewhere. It's weird, I know.

Is it ironic that the next book I'm reading is Happiness: A History?

Sometimes I Read

2006-07-17T12:33:00.000-07:00

I just finished Norah Vincent's Self-Made Man: One Woman's Journey into Manhood and Back Again. I didn't like the book, and it made me not care much for Vincent. Vincent comes across as dishonorable and incredibly self-involved, and she never seems to fully comes to grip with her professed feelings of guilt to take ownership of the deception necessary in her "experiment". It should've been a useful insight into the masculine world from an outsider's point of view, but it wasn't done as well as others have done it.

2006-07-15T15:31:00.000-07:00

In many, many ways, playing Super Mario Brothers would've been a better use of my time last night. Today, on the other hand, has been more productive. I've managed to get a fair bit of writing done, and even did some chores this afternoon. I have a busy evening and it will be more enjoyable knowing that I did enough with this day to maybe deserve a break. Beats feeling like a slacker.

Something Completely Different

2006-07-14T21:44:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted while intoxicated in a while, so now is my chance. I've just cracked my fourth beer, and I'm determined to get through the last two in the fridge as well. I suspect a rapidly deteriorating post. No, wait. Predict, that's what I'm doing. I predict a rapidly deteriorating post.

Did you ever know that person who was so incredibly not nice by nature that whenever they started acting like a human being you couldn't help but suspect their motives? Yeah, me, either. But now I do.

Why did I put slow songs on this stupid mix? How am I supposed to keep up my tipsy energy if Simply Red is putting me to sleep? Although this is one of my favorite songs. I'm having some trouble finding direction.

Today was a wonder. All I managed to deal with was coffee with Karen & Eli, and then I sort of freaked out at the next stop with Cat and had to run away home. So I did, except for the running. And "home" might be a bit of a misnomer. This apartment is not shaping up to be my home. I think I'm disappointed by that.

If there is anything worse than looking for work that doesn't involve crimes against humanity I don't know what it is, by the way. Every job is either dead dull or pays $5 a day. How they can manage to pay only five dollars a day when the minimum wage here is seven-something I'll never know, but I saw the damn job that paid $5/day and it was something that required a college degree. And I'm not talking associates.

I had a horrible dream the other night that I was hired back to work for the Breast Cancer 3-Day, but when I got to my first day I discovered that my salary was only $23,000 per year. I actually cried in my dream. There were tear dots on my pillow.

Today the paramedics asked me if I was an elderly person with breathing difficulties. No, first they tried to take me away (this was on beer #2), and then they asked if any old 'uns with breathing trouble lived around here. I said, no, just us and the damn kids upstairs. Then I thought maybe I was elderly, after all.

It's difficult to get loaded when you can't reach your beer. That's beer #4, still. See, it's interesting when I keep you posted, isn't it?

Once again all the things that happen in a week have to happen on one day. Tomorrow I am going to a birthday party (7pm), then a dinner (8pm), and then an improv show (10:30pm). It either makes me tired thinking about it, or I'm not quite the drinker I think I am. I'm not, really. I think I can really drink, but really I can only say "really" a whole bunch of times in a sentence. Really.

It's Shane's birthday. He must be a Cancer. I was supposed to have a date on Monday with a Cancer, but it had to be postponed. I was disproportionately disappointed, as it was only a first date, and more of a hang-out thing, really, but (there's that word again) I was bummed nonetheless. Luckily Eli and I got to hang out because it was his day off and so we had lunch and played Scrabble. Both activities took place on a beach that is a long way from my house, as well as the other place I used to live. Boston. Yeah, that's it. It was a long way from Boston on Monday.

Monday was also a long way from Saturday, which is when I went to the zoo with my mom and that make my sister a little cranky. She wasn't invited, but not on purpose.

Then Mom called on Tuesday, because she always calls on Taco Tuesday. (It's true. Nine times out of ten she does it. Freakish.) Mom asked me about my date and my doctor's appointment. It is rare that she asks about things, so I was happy. Unfortunately she wanted me to ask the doctor about the intermittent bump in my mouth, but I really went to my counselor instead, and she wasn't at all interested in my mouth-bumps, I'm sure, so I didn't ask her about them. Then Mom asked what I was in counseling about. I think that's rather personal, don't you? Anyway, I told her I was trying to figure out what I could blame her for. She parroted my line: You're thirty-years-old; get over it already. If I wasn't already seeing a counselor I'd be seeing one now.

But the real reason I'm seeing a counselor is because it's nice to talk to a stranger every now and then and get a grip on things. Like the handlebars. Always keep a firm grip on the handlebars. Especially when you're playing the piano.

I think Charlie Brown cartoons made me love jazz. David Benoit, however, doesn't play Vince Guaraldi worth a shit.

One frustrating thing is that we have an original Nintendo Entertainment System in this house sans power cord. I ordered one online today, it was bugging me so much. You're lucky, though, nosy britches, because if I was playing Super Mario Brothers, or Legend of Zelda, you wouldn't get to know so much about whatever is flitting through my neurons this evening. You lucky devil, you.

I may have to have a gay disco in my living room if I keep listening to this mix. "Ring My Bell" always makes me want to boogie-oogie-oogie. Ironically, so does the song "Boogie Oogie Oogie". Is that ironic? Maybe it isn't.

The night is young and full of possibilities. So come on and let yourself be free. These are clearly the words of a seductress. If I had my sequined dress and flashy pumps I could totally pull this off.

SHH!

That's a secret.

If I walked out of my apartment and stood on the sidewalk right now, I would be offered drugs three times and sex-for-pay at least once before I was bitten by a mosquito. I tempted to test that hypothesis.

Please imagine a pause here, as I'm going to finish beer #4 and adjust the interior lighting to better suit my power-conscious and mood requirements. I hope you understand what I'm saying, because that was a poorly constructed sentence, and I don't care enough to sort it out.

Oh, before I go, Israel's going to get pissed off and nuke somebody. Don't say I didn't warn you. If you think you've seen the shit hit the fan, my friend, you ain't seen nothin' yet.

'kay. Right back.

Hello! And welcome back to beer number five. This beer is a little different than beer number four because it is one more than four. Thus, five. Otherwise it is exactly the same, unless it was brewed on a different day, then it is entirely likely that there are subtle differences. But that is unlikely, because then all the labeling would be fucked up. I know Alaskans are lax about some of these things, but I think they're serious about beer. And also fish.

I don't know what song this is. How did that happen? Nevermind, it is that one band singing about being a girl. Something like that. "I'll Be That Girl". Is that the Barenaked Ladies? It's been a lot of months since I've seen any sort of barenaked lady, capitalized or otherwise.

[Get it? That means I haven't seen an actual naked lady or one of the Canadian band members in months. Do you get it? I hope so, because it's funny in my head.]

My poor typing posture is contributing to heartburn. I'm against it.

The guy I was scheduled to have a date with on Monday is very, very, very cute. Very cute. And also charming. Shh.

Dammit. I can't reach my beer again. Stupid adjusting for heartburn prevention bullshit.

I wonder how loud I can turn my music before the hipster neighbors get fed up and call the police?

My roommate appears to have a pile of X-Files tapes. I am tempted to watch them, for the entertainment, but I am also afraid that it will scare me. Either because it is scary, or because I will have engagement flashbacks because my fiancé and I used to watch X-Files together a lot, back at the beginning of college. [Seriously, April Fools' Day is the wrong day to ask someone to marry you. I promise it will always be a bad idea, so just don't do it. Okay?]

Also, her roommate often watched X-Files with us. She was from Oregon, but then moved to New York City, where she may be now. We tried to reacquaint ourselves, but it didn't take.

My Gmail account will ping me when I get a new message. I am always disappointed to find that it is some stupid mailing list or another. Just now I got all excited that I was going to have something interesting to read, but it turns out that it's just the headlines email from Al-Jazeera. They're going to say Israel is going to nuke somebody, too, I bet.

If ever I see Blondie walking down the streets of Manhattan I'm going to run up to her and give her a sloppy kiss, not because I'm gay, but because it's gross. But if I ever see her in Brooklyn I'm going to laugh and point and duck (because everything's a fight in Brooklyn).

I've run out of steam. I'm going to wander off for a minute and regroup. And probably return to with beer the sixth. (Five went fast. Apparently he was in a hurry. He also might be in a hurry on his way out again, but that's gross to think about.)

Here's something interesting to keep you occupied while I'm away. It's one of my favorite videos from my youth, probably because it is one of the few where I got all the references. I was apparently well-versed in the televangelist scandals of the day. I have strange pockets of knowledge. I swear, the things I paid attention to should've been better regulated. I remember one time I read this book that I really shouldn't've read. Mom said I shouldn't, and she was probably right. But I read it anyway because I had free-rein of the library and they are my favorite people, ever, librarians, especially when they don't release library records on pain of imprisonment.

Okay, now I really need to pee. (SHH!)

I love piano rock, so I'm going to sing along to this Billy Joel song now. Please be patient.

I can't sing along with this song. This futon is the most god-awfullest uncomfortable thing I've ever sat my arse upon. (I'm on beer #6 now and it is getting remarkably difficult to catch the mistakes. I am probalby missing dozens, but now is not the time to tell me about it, because I just don't give a damn about that.)

There is a game for Mac called Bubble Trouble and it is the ever-lovin' devil. I can't seem to stop playing, even though it is more frustrating than learning Japanese, which I did one time.

Whoa! This song is way louder than Billy freakin' Joel. Now the neighbors will be up in arms and will chase me like I am Frankenstein's monster. Picture it, Seattle, 2006, pitchforks and torches, just like old times. Good times.

I've been writing this post for many minutes now. It is getting close to being 11pm, and that is close to the time when I should go to bed if I don't want to be unhappy when I have breakfast with a co-worker from that awful job I had a month ago. She was just fired, by the way. It's a disaster over there, but apparently only I am the one who cares about that.

Harvey Danger was a failure of a band, and I don't care who disagrees with me. If you think they were great you are wrong and you can go sit on a flag pole.

Tu B'Shevat is the Jewish new year for trees, which is important in the rules, and is my favorite Jewish holiday. Everyone should give cards made from elephant dung for Tu B'Shevat so no trees have to die in celebration of their new year. (Although Mom and I agreed when we saw it at the zoo store that elephant dung paper seems kinda gross.)

Seriously, most uncomfortable ass-perch ever.

The second time I saw Moulin Rouge in the theatre it was in Davis Square in Cambridge, and it was gay sing-along night. Not on purpose, just everyone there was a gay theatre student and they were singing along. I suspect I wasn't the only one in the theatre that evening who was there for a repeat viewing. I must've been lonely if I went to that movie twice in the theatre. Hell, I must be kinda lonely now if I'm rambling on and on about absolutely nothing on my blog right now.

Anyway, did I mention that that boy is cute? And that he has a cute dog? And he owns his own business? And that he's cute? I'm going to look at his picture again. Hold on.

Yup, definitely cute.

I love Tina Turner. That woman can sing, and she's got legs for days.

Definitely read this book. It is so very good. It is as good as that boy is cute. Okay, I'm going to stop looking at the cute boy with his cute dog, and move on. No, seriously.

The next book I'm going to read isn't going to be as good. I think it might even irritate me, but I'm not going to tell you which book it is because I'm a tease. Ha, ha!

*sigh*

That amuses me far too much. Beer #6 is clearly doing me in. I'm going to have to curl up in my bed soon and snore the sleep of the drunken and not-so-bright.

When I went to the bathroom a while back my zipper was already down. I don't know what I have such trouble with my zipper these days. Maybe I'm becoming creepy?

Speaking of creepy, I sure do wish people would stop looking in my window when they walk by. I'm going to have to argue for a curtain for the living room window. Apparently passers-by feel entitled to a show while they wander off to conduct their drug deals or engage in sex-for-pay. I should put a condom dispenser on the abandoned house next door. I'd make a million, if any of them happen to be the responsible sort.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this intoxicating, er, intoxicated, post. I'm just about done with my final beer for the evening, the call of nature is becoming insistent again, and I've run out of things I'm willing to type about. So, I guess you're out of luck. Now you'll have to return to your regularly scheduled lives and maybe even get something done. You poor slobs. I pity you, I really do. I'm going to sit on my arse again all day tomorrow and not even think about applying for jobs. Maybe I'll head to the appliance store, though. I need to find a refrigerator box to live in when I move to the warm grate underneath the freeway.

'Night.

Grand Theft

2006-07-11T15:56:00.000-07:00

Blogger's going down in just under seven minutes for some sort of damn maintenance. It's too bad, too, as I was getting ready to write the best post ever. You were so robbed.

2006-07-09T12:53:00.000-07:00

But if you do not find an intelligent companion, a wise and well-behaved person going the same way as yourself, then go on your way alone, like a king abandoning a conquered kingdom, or like a great elephant in the deep forest. - Buddha

Drinking Tea

2006-07-07T17:26:00.000-07:00

I was drinking my morning tea on my front steps this morning. There was a very young bird that I think had fallen out of the next hopping about on the parking strip. It's parent bird was feeding it, and that was sad because it couldn't get back to the nest. But then I noticed that the crows were gathering on the power lines, clearly waiting for a ripe moment to make their move. And then there was a cat who hadn't spotted the weakest prey, clearly was hungry as he was lunging at all the other birds. It was heartbreaking, but my belief in the circle of life prevented me from intervening. Also, I wasn't sure the mom would accept human-scented babies. Cue Elton here.

Hurtling

2006-07-07T16:51:00.000-07:00

The theory is that the closer to the speed of light one gets the more time slows down. On an experiential scale this is not true. The faster I get through tasks in my life the faster time seems to go. And the more I try to accomplish the faster the clock moves, so it feels as though I'm losing ground even when I'm making more progress than might be expected. It's an observation more than a post, but there you have it.

Untilted

2006-07-06T16:16:00.000-07:00

I bought new running shoes today. Mostly they are for exercising in general, but I may even run in them. I will run fast, almost like the wind. Hopefully if nobody will chase me I will run into them and it will be a story I tell our grandchildren. I will tell it because I am a story-teller. No, I'm a teller of tales. I will make yuou laugh so hard milk with come out your nose, even if you're vegan. But I won't run and run and run like Forrest Gump, because that would make me tired, and I don't like to have a beard.

Reading As Procrastination

2006-07-05T17:26:00.000-07:00

I've been reading some good books lately. I thought Love & Other Impossible Pursuits was written beautifully, even if it didn't have the richest characters I've ever read.

A rather dark and chilling read was the murderous Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. I didn't find it to be well-written at all, but the character was fascinating. It was a book I could discuss for ours, arguing vehemently about what it all means.

I'm also part way through A Thread of Grace, but I've put it aside for the moment because I have three books due back to the library before it. Now I'm reading The Good Life. Part Two opens on 12 September 2001 and, as I've just gotten there, I'm not prepared to comment yet on any of it.

What I should be doing while I'm at home is unpacking and organizing, but that doesn't sound like any fun at all. Also, I don't know where to put a pile of my furniture. (Although I must decide today because I'm certain my housemate is as tired of looking at it stacked up in the living room as I am.)

Explosions
I watched the fireworks with Cat and Kirstyn (and a brazilian homos) on a roof last night. As usual, the Lake Union fireworks were spectacular and the Seattle Center fireworks were lacklustre. I think next year I want to scout out a location to watch the pyrotechnics somewhere on Queen Anne. I think that would be a neat change. Either that or maybe somewhere on the north shore of Lake Union that is not Gasworks Park, as that place was overcrowded as ever three days before the event. (Or some other ridiculous period of time prior to the start of the explosions.)

Death Garden, Part One

2006-07-04T13:49:00.000-07:00

Marek, one-third of my new house, has been putting in a garden in the back yard. It has been an adventure of the highest order. He has done his research, for the most part, and certainly is willing to put in the blood, sweat, and tears necessary to reclaim a garden patch from a neglected yard, but this is a project I would've abandoned long ago. (He might have, too, had he not purchased the plants prior to clearing the garden.)

The upshot is that I realized that I know more about gardening than I thought I did. I'm certain growing up with gardening parents and grandparents has contributed to this tiny little store of knowledge, and it has been helpful-ish for this project.

I'm mostly concerned that the ground is toxic. Marek has pulled out of the ground half a ton of garbage and a full ton of broken glass and, for some reason, bathroom tiles. He had to clear some of the most tenacious blackberries I've ever seen, and they were being choked out by the morning glory. The soil is so sandy it could be a California beach. Oh, and the drunken neighbors could fall asleep on all of it at any time. (Not to mention the danger of urine-soaked veggies!)

Anyway, we made some significant progress last night (gardening in the dark for extra fun) and put the tomatoes, cilantro, and lettuce into the ground. Zucchini, beans, and some other sort of something are also on the agenda. I'm hopeful that it will work out, though. I think this project has the favor of G*d, as it rained last night for the first time in weeks. That Nature should already be cooperating is surely a good sign.

UNRELATED
Parents who mistreat or harm their children are very much on my shit list.

Life, Rightly Considered

2006-07-03T13:35:00.000-07:00

On the Google homepage today is a quote from GK Chesterton that sums up how I've been looking at life lately. (Well, for the last three years or so.)

An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is an adventure wrongly considered.

I've been on quite a few adventures over the last three years. I like to think it's fun.

NO!

2006-06-28T19:14:00.000-07:00

I feel like a five-year-old.

I don't want to go back to my messy, in-the-middle-of-being-packed apartment. I don't want to continue packing. I don't want to do my dishes. I don't want to do any more laundry. I don't want to clean. I don't want to take anything to the thrift store. I don't want to carry boxes. I don't want to dismantle furniture. I don't want to sort through my wardrobe for the thrift store. I don't want to do anything at all except maybe crawl into bed with my book until I fall asleep.

I also don't want to retrieve the FlexCar Element I'm using for the move at midnight, but if I don't it will be too easy for me to be lazy tomorrow morning. I'd rather get an early start and power through the actual transportation of belongings as early in the day as possible. My drive to accomplish tasks peters out after about 1pm. It's kind of rubbish, and I need to make sure I have "lazy" tasks left in the afternoon. Although maybe brute-strength tasks will be okay. But packing, sorting, and other "brain" tasks are not okay for the afternoon. My brain shuts down after lunch, whether I eat or not.

Silly brain.

We Become That Which We Resist

2006-06-27T17:22:00.000-07:00

I was going to write a post about someone I know, but I think I won't. Instead, I'll just say that one of the lessons that is being reiterated in my life right now is the one about resistance. I've learned, often the hard way, that resistance to a concept or a feeling adds fuel to the fire. Acceptance is the way to get through something, a concept for which water is always a good metaphor. I think I'll practice being like water this week.

Still Not Proud of the Gays

2006-06-26T14:42:00.000-07:00

Gay Pride was this past weekend and I spent it working at the lesbian bar. By closing time last night I was physically exhausted, emotionally raw, and inexplicably cross-eyed.

I thought I had a lot more to say about that, but I don't think I do. Unless, of course, it's to say that I realized recently that I'm not interested sexually or emotionally in gay men. It's been a little disconcerting to shift my thinking after being out as "bi" for almost eleven years now, and it will probably continue to be an adjustment.

But don't ask me to define myself just now, if you please. I'm experiencing a significant transitional period at the moment. There are a lot of things up in the air in terms of self-definition. I'll probably figure it all out by talking with a stranger.

That's just sort of how things these work out.

I Hate A Parade

2006-06-23T15:39:00.000-07:00

I have to report to the bar in seventy minutes to begin the Pride Weekend festivities. Actually, I am not beginning festivities, I'm beginning a weekend of grueling labor. First, I shall take charge of the gate to the beer garden this evening. Inside the bar the annual wet t-shirt contest will take place. In the beer garden, the contest will be projected on a huge screen and everyone will see wet t-shirts.

The I spend the rest of the weekend catching sleep when I can between pulling beer and fetching ice. That's it. That's the whole weekend. If you end up at the bar be sure to tip well or I'll be living under a bridge in August.

And if I end up living under a bridge in August, I'm moving in with you in September, stinky britches and all.

I didn't get enough sleep last night and I am tired and I'm going to try and catch a nap before the hour is up.

I See Newscasters

2006-06-23T11:14:00.000-07:00

It just doesn't get any better than drinking stout and playing Scrabble with Eli at the Stumbling Monk while Rich Marriott plays four-player Battleship at the next table. This is my seventh random newscaster sighting in the last twelve months. I see these people everywhere, but never the people I want to see. (I am not counting events where they are scheduled to appear.)

Eyewitnesses report Mr. Marriott is a nice guy, even when accosted by passers-by when they recognize him from the nightly weather report. I promise, however, that it was not I, your faithful blogger, who was the accoster.

Promise.

Post 678

2006-06-22T17:09:00.000-07:00

Good day, and welcome to blog post number six hundred, seventy-eight. Today is a sunny day here in summer-y Seattle, and it's great to be indoors procrastinating the job-search process. I've done just about everything one can do online today other than apply for jobs. Or look at porn. I don't understand those folks who look at porn in public. Are they saving it for later? Or have they never heard of masturbation so they don't know that porn can lead to some serious onanism? I used to have some porn, but then I got rid of the porn. There's a story behind that, but it's not that interesting and it doesn't have an ending yet, so let's skip that for now. Also now let's start a new paragraph.

Today is a cranky food day. I have been hungry since lunchtime, but nothing has seemed particularly tasty. I had a few nibbles of a California roll forced on me not against my will, and then I went home and had a not-so-tasty version of a veggie burger, but that had more to do with a lack of condiments than anything else. Let's face it, that situation is not going to improve because I'm not going grocery shopping between now and next Friday, by which time my move must be completed. I guess. I don't know for sure, because we're not talking about it. It is a case of assumptive responsibility. Everyone assumes everyone is going to be responsible. When I am involved they are most likely correct in that assumption.

Today at the coffee house of computers I am drinking drip coffee. It is gross, and I don't like it at all. I also don't want to spend money on anything else, because it will also not be satisfying, although perhaps not gross. The good news is this crazy place has unlimited free refills on the drip coffee. Clearly they've been dropped on their heads once too often, because that is crazy talk her in Coffeeville. (Also known as Seattle. Oh, by the way, Coca-Cola has unveiled a coffee cola beverage here. Do you have this at your house? Or are we a test market for a really bad idea? Let's see some action on those comments, people.)

Or not. Ever since I got rid of the hit meter business I haven't really cared who is reading my blog. It has been liberating.

What has not been liberating, however, are my new panties. They make me uncomfortable. So much so I have retained the almost completely worn-out panties from the last batch. At some point purchasing new panties is going to have to be a priority for me, because I'm not going to last long if this state persists. Very few things are worse for one's prospects for a good day than unsatisfying panties. If you don't believe me you should give unsatisfying panties a try. You will hate your life for the duration, I promise you.

Today would've been a good day to spend in a pool. I think swimming would've been the best use of my time today. I have forty minutes before I have to leave for my next scheduled activity and I have absolutely no intention of finishing my job application in that time. How pathetic is that? I may have to force myself to get it done before I go to bed tonight. Either that, or I'm going to have to set my alarm for hella early to get it done first thing in the stinking morning. I saw stinking, because it is the Friday of Gay Pride, and I failed to leave town this year. I am tired of the gays. Sick and tired of the gays, if you must know. I can't believe I decided to work this year again. Actually, it is entirely believable, as I need the money to cover the gap between the end of the last job and the start of the next, whenever and whatever that may be, but I really would rather be out of town until the gays go to sleep for another year.

It's worse than that damn groundhog business in February.

When I have one jillion dollars I am going to get laser hair removal treatments on my face so I never have to shave again. The only thing worse than having to shave is having to live with facial hair. Sometimes I think people who want facial hair are dumb. Since that thought is terribly judgmental I try not to say it out loud too often, because that would be rude. Also, I don't really care if other people have facial hair, as long as I don't have to. Someday....

Today I played myself a mad game of Bubble Trouble and scored 68,341 points and made it all the way to level thirteen. I was rockin' the aquarium, my friends.

I have accomplished absolutely nothing on this day. I blame the rutabagas, as should you.

When you garden until dark on the longest day of the year you have gardened for a very long time. And that's all I have to say about that business.

Really, that's all I have to say about any of the business today. Although I may say something about some sort of business later. You never can tell with the quiet ones.

SUMMER!

2006-06-21T15:05:00.000-07:00

Ah, summer. Now you are here. I was up far too late last night working off the rush of super kick-ass fun-time spoken word foolishness. Sadly, at 9am I was lying in bed staring at my ceiling wishing I was going to fall back asleep. I did not fall asleep. I didn't even doze. Which was stink because I was tired. Then I started to do a chore, and when I was done with that chore I started to do another chore. But that is when someone called me for chicken time. I didn't want chicken, or anything else, even though I was hungry. I did want to take a shower before chicken time, but it wasn't allowed, so I had to have stinky chicken-but-no-chicken-for-me time. After chicken time I got to have a shower, and then I went to the coffee shop. But when I arrived at the coffee shop I had to take a phone call. and so now I'm finally sitting down to do the little computer chores that I wanted to do and am over an hour off my schedule and I don't feel like it anymore. You want to know why? Because it's summer.

Nothing To Spit At

2006-06-20T23:55:00.000-07:00

Tonight was awesome, and I totally knocked 'em dead. I spent most of this afternoon freaking out about my poem not being good enough. There was some serious flaw and I couldn't place my finger on it. Luckily I figured it out at the last possible moment and, while the performer before me read her (thankfully long) piece, I worked up a last-minute edit that saved the piece. (But only I know that for sure.)

My piece was laugh-out-loud funny, and I nailed it. I even got a compliment from tonight's headliner, Seattle's spoken-word superstar Tara Hardy, about my "marvolous comedic timing". But more than that, I made my friends laugh, and that's all that ever counts.

The adrenaline from my god-awful nerves should subside sometime next Tuesday.

Can I Still Go To Pride If I'm Only Proud Of Me?

2006-06-20T16:08:00.000-07:00

Tonight is the night of my big spoken-word debut. The poem isn't good enough, and I haven't had enough time to rehearse it adequately, and the middle section was cut entirely about thirty minutes ago. Other than that I'm feeling pretty good about it.

Although I really do wish the poem was a lot stronger than it is. I can do better than this.

I had a happy fun-time lunch with my friend Amy today. She was unexpectedly in town and available so we met up downtown. She's head of the Jews now, and we had a nice time catching up. She also said maybe I should convert. It would mean that I would totally rock Tu'B Shevat, but I may have difficulty reconciling my non-faith in the Big Jew God.

I need to rehearse this poem some more, but I think ultimately it's only going to get so good without a microphone. Someday I'm going to decide to stop punting and implement my really good plans properly. Today is clearly not that day.

Whatever problem my lunch is having on my guts needs to sort itself out in the next two hours if I'm going to do anything on a stage tonight.

Holy Lobster-Face, Batman!

2006-06-17T21:36:00.000-07:00

Today I went to Bat 'N' Rouge, a fundraising softball game between the Dykes and the Drag Queens. Great fun, but too much sun on my face. Also, it was confirmed by this event that I need to take my goal of being a stand-up comic seriously so I can be Seattle's undisputed best-ever emcee. I am one entertaining motherfucker.

It is as though Seattle is enjoying a second sunset with my face illuminating the underside of the clouds with an ominous red glow. I'm not kidding.

Tuesday is coming. As it does every week, as I'm certain you're aware. This Tuesday, however, is different from other Tuesdays because this Tuesday I am performing at the special Gay Pride edition of Seattle Spit, a monthly spoken-word poetry event that takes place at the wonderful Wildrose bar, Seattle's oldest and undisputed sole women's bar. I'm feeling a little bit of pressure to actually finish my piece this weekend. It would be best to have some rehearsal time before I make an ass of myself.

Of course, I'm gonna rock the joint. I say, "bring it," you spoken-word pansies. I'm going to kick your ever-lovin' poetic asses.

Right after I vomit up a little stage fright. Merde.

My last day at the horrible, no-good, awful job was Friday. As soon as I walked out the door I could feel the stress melt off my body. It is ridiculous how much I let that place, and those people, get to me. It was entirely unacceptable.

It is nice to remember that I am one lucky bastard. I have a comfortable existence, and my life is chock full of people who love me. And, better yet, more great people enter my life every year. I'm also pretty good looking. For a dude.

Eerie.

2006-06-14T08:51:00.000-07:00

I've read my horoscope from three sources today and all three say the same thing. First of all, that's just eerie, because when you ask 100 astrologers for a horoscope you usually end up with 3,452 completely unrelated readings. So clearly the advice for the day really is: Don't do what you don't want to do.

At least for me.

Earlier. Than. Ever. Before.

2006-06-13T19:08:00.000-07:00

Marek was over at my place on Saturday night and wanted to hear a couple of tracks on a new Christmas CD I purchased months ago. In order to entertain him while I took a shower I unwrapped the CD and let him at it. Perhaps had he not been still listening to it when I got out of the shower the horrible, awful thing wouldn't've happened. But he was. And it did.

Now I'm sitting in a coffee shop in mid-June listening to damnable holiday music. Even for me, this is some sort of hell.

Solidarity

2006-06-11T15:18:00.000-07:00

Of the many and uncounted reasons why I love Cat: often the words in my head come out of her mouth. Do you know what today's word was?

Too bad. That's just the way it is.

I feel as though I've been at this coffeeshop for a brazilian hours and have accomplished none of the tasks I'd set for myself. I think I'm going to purchase a second beverage and work on my piece for spoken word open mic. I challenged myself and now I have to pull it off. See you on the 20th at the Rose for Seattle Spit. I'll be entertaining; you'll be drunk.

I'll remember so well.

I'm Batman

2006-06-11T12:38:00.000-07:00

Well, apart from not being a multi-billionaire who dresses up in fancy pants at night to fight the criminally insane. The truth is I would love to have no economic constraints to so I could travel around doing odd little projects for people. The sort of projects that affect one's quality of life but which involve considerable obstacles to implementation. The sort of projects that you'd never really ask someone to do, but that linger in your little pea-brain like the grit of sand frustrated out of ever becoming a pearl. I'd be like the oyster that comes along and turns dirt to ornament.

But that was just a fleeting thought for the moment. Besides, I freak out standing on top of the damn buildings of Gotham late at night. I'm afraid of heights, you know.

Slumber Party
I like having sleep-overs. Not in the adult, getting-laid sense, but in the warm-body-in-bed-and-breakfast-companion-the-next-day sort of way. I was going to say it's just because I like being a good host, but the truth is I much more enjoy not sleeping alone and have developed superb hosting abilities as an incentive for folks to stay over at night. [Sunday mornings are especially fun because they include the Sunday New York Times, which goes well with Earl Greyer tea.]

If I ever get around to figuring out who it is exactly I enjoy dating they're going to be one lucky non-gender-specific son of a bitch.

Non-consensual Disclosure
Three people are having a conversation. People #1 and People #2 are well-acquainted. People #3 has non-joint, minimal prior experience with People #1 and People #2, and only a general sense of how well People #1 and People #2 know each other. It is in this circumstance inappropriate for People #3 to remark upon a consistent character trait of People #2 [People #2 does have a taciturn tendency to smile and nod.] that was first noticed in a shared group-therapy setting. I'm fairly certain it's against the rules of group to run around blabbing about it.

Lunch Break
I'm hungry; eat something.

Offensive

2006-06-09T10:10:00.000-07:00

Batwoman is coming out of the closet. Can you find five offensive things in this article: http://www.animationmagazine.net/article.php?article_id=5493

IcelandReview - Online

2006-06-07T17:40:00.000-07:00

IcelandReview - Online

This made me smile today.

Apocalypse?

2006-06-07T17:37:00.000-07:00

Did the world just end? I can't reach anyone on their cell phone with text messaging, and I keep getting "all circuits are busy" whenever I try and make a call. Or maybe a satellite malfunctioned and crashed into the ocean. Anyone? Does anyone know?

These events took place hours ago. To add to the freakishness, Blogger was also down. Neat.