Wednesday, September 27, 2006
I’m curious about the guy on the bus every morning with the long wet hair who is always writing furiously in his Moleskine. Is he crazy, brilliant, pretentious? What the heck is he writing about? Is he taking careful study of everyone on the bus? Or perhaps writing down his detailed Alice Cooper fantasies? Mysteries.
Oh and really, there are few things quite as bothersome as waking up to find an angry e-mail written to you in Spanish from your ex. Okay, yes, I’m sorry I didn’t make it to see your band play last night. But I had other plans and besides, maybe I’m not ready to see you yet. Maybe I’m not ready to see you yet. Quizás no estoy listo verle.
It is a tiresome life I lead.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Both remind me of how I used to sit in eighth grade algebra and stare intently at some symbol in the textbook, trying to merge myself into it. IF I FOCUS ALL OF MY MENTAL ENERGY ON THIS BETA I WILL SHRINK SO TINY SMALL INTO AN INK DOT AND THEN I CAN SLEEP FOREVER AND BE TINYSMALL AND NO ONE WILL EVER BOTHER ME
Those who know me well may recognize this sort of thinking from a time not too long ago. Ah, me! But all those people are gone.
Today during my lunch break I lay down under a sugar maple and thought about home.
(but it seemed the way men and women did and we had not made the world.)
My throat feels bee-stung. I’m starting to feel again like I should leave this place.
I also feel as if I could cry but I think instead I will make a list, read for a while, sleep if I can (I can’t), then go to work and do simple calm things.
Don’t take everything so personally, Emily.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Double sided black and white
So very boring
I have a question
It’s: what the hell is toner?
What the hell is it?
The copy machine
Hates me. It knows I’m coming.
It will jam again.
Quit eating all my papers
I will kick you hard
Today I am writing haiku in my head whilst doing tedious tasks.
Gotta put that English degree to good use. : (
Party at the House of Awesome tonight! Get pumped!
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
So I got in about two hours worth of work in before resigning myself to the office toilet for some quality heaving. I finally gave up and went home. (And really, I was and continue to be very put out by all this…I had one beer, one admittedly potent gin and tonic, and five sips of an LIT. I blame the bartender. I blame the “beer before liquor” rule. I blame twenty-one years of relative sobriety.) On the walk back to Carrboro, some idiot drove past and made kissy noises at me. Pity he hadn’t been driving a bit slower; I could have thrown up in his car.
I was pleased to find a sleepy Neil on the couch when I got home. Among his many other fine qualities, Neil is an exceptional generator of comforting body heat and cuteness. A few hours of napping and a lot of water later and I was pretty much back to normal. But poor little Jess is still a sickly, starving thing, and Holly and I did our best to ease her suffering with the healing powers of Star Trek, Wayne’s World, and Wendy’s. A strange man who turned out to be my dad showed up at the door while we were watching House to report that my car-beast is functional once more. (Felicidades!) So today was, at the last, a good day. Bed!
First, a word about the weekend:
I think I’m getting to the point where I find Lincolnton quaint and adorable rather than stifling and vaguely depressing. And really, nothing is cuter or more representative of small-town kitsch than the Apple Festival. The fam and I made our rounds at the festival and then the lot of us went out to dinner at Fox’s, which has the best seafood ever. Ever. I found out the secret to why their baked potatoes are so damn tasty: they boil them in salt water a little before putting them in the oven. Genius! I was reminded of how when we were kids my dad would always order the seafood platter and give mom his deviled crab (her favorite). I used to think that this was the most romantic thing ever. I guess that I now think the most romantic thing ever would be having “International Small Arms Traffic Blues” sung to me, but what do I know about how the world works? Nothing, nothing.
Oh god, today. My only consolation is that eventually I will get to go home, eat a baked potato, take a nap, and go to Bryan & Andy’s to watch movies.
P.S. Holly: your head scratches so good make-a grown man cry.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Remember to unlock the car tomorrow. Remember to buy peanut butter. Remember to call everyone who needs calling. Remember to remove summer skirts. At the last of it, send out the following psychic message: Please don’t let me down. Please don’t let me down. Please don’t let me down.
I am going home today to see my family. The Lincoln County Apple Festival is this weekend, so hurry and get in all your requests for apples, apple tarts, apple pies, apple cider, apple butter, and apples covered in candy, caramel, and/or nuts.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Tonight Bryan and I were driving into
Bought a bunch of books today at the used bookstore downtown, including some old Faulkner, Graham Greene, and a book of Vonnegut essays that I had never seen before and which I am pretty excited about. Certain people who owe me thirty dollars better be glad that I was occupied in sharing an umbrella with a very dapper Will Walter coming home from the comic book store and that I didn’t have a free hand to ROB and KILL them.
Starting with my next paycheck I think I’m going to begin setting aside cash for travel adventures, the first of which will be a trip to
I have big plans involving a down comforter and rain on a tin roof, so goodnight.
Monday, September 11, 2006
So I quit the cult in a fairly amusing manner and after that my weekend just kept on getting better. Nothing like free will to make your bed comfy and your food taste good. My car broke down and I continue to be lousy with ex-boyfriends (I mean that in the “covered with, as one might be covered in lice” sense, not in the “terrible with” sense) but these things are vaguely hilarious and I’m having a great time.
It’s almost autumn. I’m knitting ugly yellow legwarmers. People kept winking at me today, what’s up with that?
Friday, September 08, 2006
I forgot to mention that at the end of each session we have to close our eyes and listen intently to Tim McGraw's "Live Like You Were Dying."
I HAVE BEEN TO HELL AND THE COFFEE IS TERRIBLE.