hedrinksalot, the blog

Friday, April 29, 2005

you learn something new everyday.

in my case, you learn about 80 new things everyday. i've noticed recently that i come home everyday knowing so much more than i did the day before. i'm going through an incredible period of self-discovery. i've been learning things about myself lately, that for the better or for the worse, i hadn't known before.

i account this sudden time of self-understanding not to my move or the new-soon-to-be-old job, but rather to the fact that while everyone else was finding themselves during college, i was going through puberty. while everyone else was having teary, drunken heart-to-hearts, me and doogie were cautiously discussing our "new hair". when everyone else was hopping from relationship to relationship and bed to bed, i was practicing hiding my octave-hopping voice. while all the other 18-21 year olds were changing majors as often as they changed their underwear, this pseudo-pre-teen was changing his pants as often as he changed heights. others worried about exams and late-night study sessions; i worried about acne and late-night emissions.

now, that i'm at the ripe old age of 22 and through with collegiate puberty, i'm entering the phase of my life where i get used to my new body and my new self... though i am still waiting for my voice to drop.

here's to being a late bloomer... or in this case, boomer.

i.f.o.t.d. - considering that i'm more or less celibate, i find my fear of h.i.v. incredibly silly.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

i should have taken a class.

this is going to be a quick post. maybe i'll make another later... not sure, as the company's internet has been a little moody today. speaking of things cyber, i'm technologically retarded and need not to be. i have a very specific problem involving me trying to get a new job while working at the current one. yes, i know i've only had this one for 3 weeks, but that's a whole other can of worms. the point is my office is my only connection to technological machines, i.e. copy machine, fax machine, printer, etc. furthermore, the job i'm applying for requires me to use one of three methods to submit my resume: email, fax, or snail mail. faxing is out of the question, as i refuse to use my current office's amenities to apply for a new job; so thus, the snail mail is out, too, as this would require me to not only use the office printer, but also bring in special paper to accomplish said illicit task. now, i'm left with emailing my resume to the would-be-new employers. however, they only want it in ascii format. i don't even know how to say that much less what it is. "ask-y, ass-y, ask-eeee... oh, a-s-c-i-i, maybe?"

now the problem: how do i take a .doc resume and make it an asky (read: ascii) resume?
please assist.

i asked jeeves, and he didn't know anything. doesn't seem to know much of anything. then again, he is just a butler. i'm sure he knows how to make napkin swans.

i.f.o.t.d. - i'm often afraid that when standing on the "l" and holding a pole, that the train will jerk, i'll lose my grip, and i'll punch some short woman in the face with the full force of my 135 lb. body.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

unsure. my anti-perspirant seems to work fine on everything but the small stuff.

though i know i'm not supposed to and even really try not to, i'm obsessed with the little things. i say obsessed because really i don't sweat. even when it's like 90+ degrees outside, my brow is dry. i'll run a couple miles, and certainly be out of breath, but i won't perspire a drop. put me in a sauna, and it's really just a small, warm room with nothing to do... well, at most gyms. i just don't produce h2o through my skin. maybe that's why i pee so much. man, i even need to pee right now.

anyhow, to get back to what i was writing about, i spend too much time fretting the insignificant. i attribute so much meaning to even the slightest of nothings. maybe i'm just an over-thinker. i do remember taking stadardized tests and totally obsessing over certain questions where the answer seemed too easy. nothing should ever be that easy, and anything that is becomes highly suspect. i can think and rethink something for hours. my roommate often finds me standing in our living room, staring at the wall for minutes on end pondering something. honestly, about 85% of my day is spent on the little things, but really, don't the little things eventually all add up to one big thing - mostly, my life.

certainly, i could spend my days really thinking and worrying about the meaning of life, the origins of life, or any of the other "big" things, but where's the fun in that? i mean, i'm certainly not going to figure them out; c'mon, i'm bright, but not fucking solar. to me, it makes much more sense to obsess over what i'm going to wear to work tomorrow or where my keys went or why someone didn't call because these are questions i can answer... well, in most cases. the small stuff is small for a reason because even though it makes us sweat (well, most of us), we can handle it.

i'll leave the big stuff to bill gates and stephen hawking, who i think look strangely alike. maybe it's a smart thing.

...and needless to say, he's written back, and a second is in the works, though i'll admit i was not-sweating it there for awhile...

i.f.o.t.d. - everyday when i go fetch some yogurt from the market near my office, both coming and going, i have to cross an alley's access to orleans. each time everyday, i gingerly peak around the corner before crossing, as i am deeply fearful that i'll get mowed down by some motorist who failed to sound his horn.

Monday, April 25, 2005

i've always been a charlotte york, but i've never read "the rules".

due to some unforeseen complications involving my cell phone, i missed "take me out" on sunday. the unforeseen complications being my drunk ass leaving my phone in the backseat of one of chicago's many taxicabs. luckily, a very nice driver by the name of parvesh found the phone and returned it to his managing office. i was lucky enough to locate it, and some other cabbie drove it over to my apartment. i am still shocked that they didn't charge me for the cab ride my phone took. however, this whole situation took until almost 4 o'clock in the afternoon, causing me to miss my 3 pm curtain call. i'm hoping some nice person at steppenwolf will understand and help me reschedule. i'm seriously doubting this, however.

with all the freetime i, thusly, acquired, i had a few hours to mentally and physically prepare myself for the dinner date i had yesterday evening. at 7:30, we met at a nice, latin establishment (latin being the culture of central america and the caribbean, not the dead language of yore). the conversation wasn't as easy as with my last date, nor was the instant comfort there, but it was good. it was nice to have to work at it. it was nice that we both were working at it. the two hours we spent there passed quickly... too quickly, and suddenly, i found myself standing on the street corner, hailing a cab and very protectively moving my cell to my inside coat pocket.

i went home and gushed to my roommate about how great it all was. how he looked just as i imagined, how the initial uneasiness was very nice in the end. she and i both noticed i had a problem with saying his name over and over again.

"when charlotte really liked a guy, she said his whole name -- it helped her to imagine their future monogrammed towels."

finally, someone i not only liked but was pretty sure liked me as well. as is my typical practice, i waited 2 or 3 hours, then sent the "thank you, i had a great time" email. i was pleased that i meant the words... i really was thanking him and really did have a great time. i spent the rest of the night thinking about him, which in my opinion, is always a good sign.

today, as any gentleman would, he replied saying that he also had a good time. now, i found myself in a tricky situation. how long do i wait to ask him out again, afterall it's my turn? do i ask him to do dinner again, or do i try to be different and inventive, attempting to make a date of some other activity? when it comes to dating, and even moreso, when it comes to being the dominant partner in dating, i'm lost. i don't know any of the social norms or customary progressions. several of my past fears are surfacing as realities -- i really didn't date enough in college, i really don't know what i'm doing when it comes to relationships, i'm romantically retarded and sexually absent. when it comes to dating, i don't know any of the rules, or for that matter, if there even are any rules. is honesty really the best policy? is being candid about feelings and overall impressions truly wise?
i guess we'll find out soon enough. i sacked up and asked him out later this week.

"the reality was, the only thing that went down with any regularity on charlotte's dates was a gold american express card."

guilty as charged...

and i will accept compliments on the pun.

i.f.o.t.d. - see below

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7616142/?GT1=6428

definitely today's i.f.o.t.d.

Friday, April 22, 2005

wtf.

why does no one want to go see cock with me on sunday? http://www.steppenwolf.org/boxoffice/productions/gallery.aspx?id=322

bogus.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

watch out, anna wintour; there's a new bitch in town!

...so i'm applying to write for a local fashion mag as a monthly contributor. i don't really have any work to give them, so i'm writing some things up especially for them.

the magazine is currently only online, but is making a shift to paper publication this summer. i figure it's a good way to get my foot in the door to mass media while still being able to hold down a fulltime job. if they pick me, my contributions for the first few months would be voluntary, but the editor mentioned that compensation could be discussed at a later time for future columns.

let's keep our fingers crossed and pray to the fashion gods. baby is finally coming home.

i.f.o.t.d. - being impaled by something... anything... at anytime of day or night. the whole full puncture wound thing is super scary.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

love's got a lot to do with it, tina.

i find myself uneased, today. maybe a little dissatisfied. see, last night, i met up for a few drinks with someone. a someone with whom i've shared a great number of emails and a wonderfully witty reparte. we gelled via the internet and determined it was time to meet, and after navigating our divergently meandering schedules, last night was the night.

so at a tiny, hole-in-the-wall mexican establishment, we chatted, at length, over beers - mexican beers, of course. our conversation was delightfully fluid and easy. laughter was frequent and lulls were nonexistent. we had never met face-to-face, yet we exuded comfort and history. we were good.

then, about 30 minutes before we parted ways, the other shoe dropped.

he's moving to the west coast in june to take a new job.

now, this is why i'm... whatever it is i am. disappointed, uneasy, dissatisfied, whatever. it became clear throughout the remainder of our conversation that this move was something he's known about for awhile... maybe not when we first started talking but certainly prior to us negotiating a meeting. i guess what i'm getting at is why did we meet at all, if he's leaving. i mean, it's sort of obvious i thought this was going somewhere while clearly he did not (at least that's what i'm assuming), so to have it derailed so unexpectedly has me a little off balance. i feel like i'm juggling while standing on one foot. do i continue to try and hang out with him or go for the clean break? do i hope that maybe he just doesn't want to start something before he leaves or take things at face value and assume he just wanted someone to have a few drinks with him?

i don't really know how to proceed from here. i like him. he's an amazing person, but i don't want to set myself up for defeat. i've done that before, and i've learned from the past.

he may introduce me to some people around here, which is greatly appreciated being new to the area and all, but i just can't understand why he started all of this knowing the situation. as i learned last night, he doesn't need more friends (he has hundreds, if not thousands), and i certainly need ones that are local. i just don't get it.

already, i can tell the tone of our emails has changed. the back and forth isn't there. maybe he caught on that i was taken by surprise. maybe he's thinking the same things. maybe he knows what i'm thinking and is turned off. i don't know.

wtf.

i.f.o.t.d. - per an article i read today on msn.com, i'm totally afraid of getting stuck in my bathtub.

not today's official posting... but i saw this and had to share.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7546770/?GT1=6428

"After she was lifted to safety and donned a warm robe, Fromal didn’t ask for food. She wanted one of her Parliament 100s and a Coke."

i want to meet this woman.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

a small person meets the small screen.

for some time now, i've wanted to be on tv... not like an interviewee on the local news, but like in the cast or as the host of an actual show. unfortunately, i have never been in the position to accomplish this goal... until recently. with my move to chicago came an increase in chances to explore the wonders of being a regular on everyone's favorite mass medium.

it is a specific want, though. i do not want to be on a gameshow (though i did audition for teen jeopardy when i was in 8th grade). i do not want to host a talk show. i do not want to be the project on a makeover show. i would host a gameshow. i would be on a travel show or sitcom. i would be on reality television that doesn't involve dating or competition.

thus, i've decided that this sunday at 10 am i will be attending an open call for mtv's the real world. now, now... stay calm. while i've never really had aspirations to be on the show and i do realize that being on the show is pretty much the kiss of death for any other career in entertainment, i mainly want to experience the audition. one time in college, dave eggers returned to his almost alma mater and told a story about his shot at the real world; it sounded fantastic. furthermore, friends who do follow the series have told me time and again (especially right after i graduated from college and did nothing with my life) that i'd be great for the show, and i'd love the validation, if i were to get asked for even a second round interview or whatever. it'd mean i'm pretty enough for tv, and who knows more about that than mtv. besides, being put up in a phat pad for 6 months with 6 strangers, being asked for nothing but to get drunk and be filmed in return, has got to be sweeter than working 9 hours a day and paying rent.

how could they possibly turn down someone who quite possibly could be paris hilton's long lost, younger brother?

...stop being polite and start being real...

if anyone else wants to go with me, just give me a shout. it could be fun, fun, fun.

i.f.o.t.d. - clowns. everything and anything involving clowns. i still can't watch "it" to this day... i can't even read "it" to this day. actually, the book/dvd/video cover to "it" scares me.

Monday, April 18, 2005

winter must be cold for those with no warm memories...

i watched "sleepless in seattle" like 3 times this weekend. tbs had it playing on like a continuous loop. i'm not sure why i watched it every time i caught it, but i did. i guess i'm a hopeless, romantic fool. it has a nice soundtrack for a romantic comedy... some good old standards on there. maybe i watched it because i believe in magic. i do think we can feel little sparks when we meet someone that tell us they're important. i don't think it always has to do with soulmates and love and all that hullabaloo, but i do believe in them.

molly and i had sparks the first time we met. it was at a meeting for work. as an ice breaker for the group of some 50 employees, we had to break into pairs and make assumptions about each other based on looks alone. i, of course, was completely wrong about her, and she seemed to know me from birth at a glance. but before all of that, when i first sat next to her, i knew. i knew i'd know her forever. now, 4 years later, we're still friends... best friends, even. we have a bizarre ability to understand each other without words, without seeing each other's faces, without anything really at all. we get each other, and getting someone that gets you has got to be one of the best things ever.

mols and i will never be lovers, we'll never be married, but we certainly will be roommates for at least the next year. she has officially moved into our apartment - our lovely, lovely almost-harborside apartment on the way northside - and it's good to have a roommate. it's nice having someone to come home to and talk and give hell to and tell all the stupid stories from my day to. it's nice having someone to eat with, to gossip with, and share a couch with. it's nice having someone around who appreciates the black and white kitchen tile, the popeye's chicken down the street, and the importance of the west wing as much as i do. it's nice to get all of this and not have to put out in return.

on a random sidenote, a friend gave me two tickets to see "take me out" this sunday at steppenwolf because he and his "friend" can't go. i planned to take molly, but she just remembered she has a first communion to attend. anyhow, i now have an extra ticket, so if anyone wants to go, let me know. i'm not sure how the seats are, but whatevs... the show's at 3. oh, and it involves full frontal male nudity. what better way to spend a sunday afternoon?

i.f.o.t.d. - when i was like 8, my dad's friend's wife died of an aneurysm, leaving behind her 5 year old daughter and husband. she was like 32. i have forever since feared that at any time i'll just drop dead from an aneurysm.

Friday, April 15, 2005

today is a wonderful, wonderful day.

the sun is shining. i'm wearing a sweater that is totally hawt. i saw a woman with a beard. lunch was eaten in the company of a delightful, old acquaintance. no strange, black men have propositioned me. the rest of my bedroom furniture has arrived. my roommate begins her official move-in this evening. a friend is visiting from out of town. two kids were playing "cece my playmate" on the l this morning. i got to come in late to work. my mom called to say she loves me. i deftly handled a small crisis at work. i got paid. i might get laid (yeah, right, but i couldn't resist.) the hair is looking good. i'm buying new jeans after work. i have a new crush.

oh, and it's friday.

i.f.o.t.d. - whenever the weather gets nicer, i often remember that there is a large hole in the o-zone layer, a juicy news story from years passed that does not get nearly the play it deserves today. anyhow, i fear that the hole will find its way directly over me and fry me to death on the sidewalk with deteriorating and harmful uv rays.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

britney's having a girl, and i'm having a cow.

something happened at work today that totally disturbs me... even makes me a little mad. some guy tried to pick me up... like for a date, not like off the ground.

now, all the waiters and bartenders and strippers are getting huffy like these sorts of things should be expected, but really, not where i work. honestly, it'd be like hitting on the guy who does your taxes at h&r. you just don't do it.

job aside, everyone here knows students and staff are not to be fraternizing. like i'd risk my new job over some... well, let's get to that right now.

here's where i get a little snobby... or maybe i'm offended... i'm not sure.

so this guy is older... like in his late 30s (which is not uncommon for our student body as the culinary arts are often something people turn to later in life), but unfortunately for him, he's the bad kind of older. you see, i do have a reputation for preferring finely aged products, but it's the finely part that is most important. he's not terribly attractive, and by that, i mean he's not. he was short, i.e. too short, black, and had less-than-orthodontured teeth. furthermore, his game was hideous.

he came in, pretended to look at shit for like 15 minutes (moving the merchandise around clearly without an intention to buy anything), then comes sauntering up to the counter. he begins chitchatting about something or other, then says, "now that we know each other a little better, i'm gonna ask you something and you can tell me shut up or leave or get the hell out or hit me in my face or be quiet." (1. never a good way to start a convo with someone you intend to ask out 2. don't provide answers to the question... this is not the ACT 3. way to repeat 2 of my options for answers)

i say, "uh, ok."

and here's where it goes from bad to fugly.

he makes an attempt at suave and asks, "what's your preference?"

in my head, i say "YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!" see, for starters, i never saw this coming. i never ever ever ever would have pegged this guy as the guy who asks you to out yourself at work. for second string, i couldn't believe this was happening. i hate this sort of situation. do i lie and say straight so i don't have to look over my shoulder in the parking lot, or do i sack up and be myself.

so i played it coy to give myself a moment to think.

"preference in what?" i say, doing my best to flash the teeth and some naive looking eyes.

as evidence of how smooth he is, he says, "relationships".

in my head, i barfed.

sack is up.

"i'm gay," i said, already second-guessing my answer.

now, comes the part where i literally almost puked on myself... not just in my head.

"oh, really," he says, clearly thinking he's in like flynn, "well, you go up or down?"

now, i can only assume he meant to ask about t/b, but used up or down as euphemisms - ones i'm completely unfamiliar with. like for real, you don't even know my name. wtf.

instantly, i reply "that's none of your freaking business," and was really tempted to make a shooing motion to get him out of my sight.

"okay, okay, well you guys close at five, so maybe i'll catch you later, and you can answer my question then... you can stop sweating it now." he spews as he leaves.

i was dumbstruck. for a couple reasons.

1. do i really look so approachable that someone is comfortable asking me such questions in a professional setting? do i really look that gay?

2. did he really think i was gonna be like, "yeah, let's go hook up right now"? do i look that easy? do i really look that gay?

3. does he really think that i'm going to cave in a matter of hours and change my mind about this? did i not say it was none of his business? do i look that flippant? do i really look that gay?

4. the kicker: he then brushes it off as though i had been hoping he'd come over and talk to me. like i was wishin and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'. does he think that really remedies the situation? did i look that sweaty or perspire-y? (damn, the gay thing doesn't work this time... unless i'm shirtless and dancing) do i really look that gay?

he really got under my skin. the whole thing just made me so uncomfortable. i don't like to think that i look like someone who would think his behavior was a-okay, and at first i wondered if it was only because he was unattractive. i do have the propensity to be quite the snob, but that wasn't it. he could have been anybody... josh wald, frodo baggins, your brother, even my current crush... and i'm pretty sure i'd still be hot and bothered. it's that to him, it was completely acceptable to put me in such an awkward position. we were not in a bar. we were not on the street. we were at my place of work, and i'm not a hooker... at least not at this intersection.

the audacity.

just think, somewhere, britney spears has a small person inside her... and i'm not talking about kevin.

i.f.o.t.d. - i'm afraid of chivalry because anytime someone closes a car door for somebody else, i think they're going to lop off their foot from the ankle down.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

i want to meet craig.

since moving to the city, i've become unheathily obsessed with craigslist. i used to peruse it from time to time for shits and giggles, etc. etc. now, i literally leave it open in a browser window and hit refresh about every five minutes or so... and honestly, it just feels like every 5 minutes in my head, which means that it's probably actually every 2 minutes. i'm sure the tech guys here at the good ole office love seeing that one in their reports. i know i'm gonna love it when they fire my ass over it.

(sidenote: i also love that we have blocked website categories to prevent unnecessary surfing and that different websites fall under really odd categories. for instance, friendster, a site i use for correspondence with several friends, is filed under personals/dating/sex. i get the first two, but the sex one just doesn't connect. oh, and i also love that i'm sure those blocked pages get logged somewhere, and i keep popping up as trying to access sex sites. lovely.)

to be fired over craigslist has got to be one of the coolest - or saddest - reasons for termination ever!
my favorite part of craigslist is, of course, the missed connections page. everyday, what feels like hundreds of people make little posts about the hot girl they were too shy to talk to on the train, the guy in the elevator who made them smile, or the jackass who drove by and splashed them with a puddle while they were harmlessly crossing the street. admittedly, i love this page because i so badly want someone to be looking for me. it'd be such a thrill to find out after the fact that you somehow made someone else's bus ride sublime without having really done anything but sat there riding it. it'd make my day to know i'd made someone's commute.

i'm beginning to recognize the signs of my own mental illness; today's sign: reasonably thinking i could ever date someone with the same first name. literally, like brett & brett. i'm on crack or something.
oh, and i think there's a guy who comes through here who could have easily been a serial killer if he hadn't decided to learn to cook instead. then again, what's to say one truly rules out the other.

i.f.o.t.d. - when walking past highrise apartment buildings, i often worry that an air conditioner, flower pot, anvil, window fan, etc. will fall out of a window and hit me square on the noggin, killing me instantly.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

something is out to get me.

the universe has been trying its best to get the better of me, but i'm not giving up so quickly. it's employing "the final straw" (also known as the "you're a camel; how's your back?") strategy. little things. tons and tons of little things, all going wrong. to culminate in me throwing my hands up in defeat.
i've had the sneaking suspicion something was up for awhile, now. little incidents would sort of make me take a moment and pause... noting the moment's strangeness and clear feeling of ulterior intention. the universe was trying to be subtle, but i'm one helluva gumshoe when it comes to things of this nature. they've been happening for a few days now.

some excerpts:

at work, we sell two different kinds of coffee - regular and then some other flavor that we choose at random. well, there's one random flavor i abhor - chocolate raspberry - because it smells a little too much like coffee-scented vomit. anyhow, the random flavors are supposed to come pre-ground so that we don't have to serve the same one everyday. needless to say, the last shipment came as beans, and a now-so-tender-to-my-heart patron requested chocolate raspberry. the last 3 business days have been vomilicious.

this very morning, i fell down in the shower. while my slender figure may suggest the skeletal structure of an elderly woman, i quite luckily escaped without a broken hip. only a fractured pride for this young buck. however, i am still haunted by the slight chance that someone either heard my bloodcurdling yelp and subsequent thud or caught a glimpse of the whole episode through the less-than-private ventilation window in our bathroom. believe me, i'm all shins and elbows when naked, and it only gets worse when wet. goodbye, peeping tom.

while going to get lunch today, i had a small encounter with the wind involving my umbrella. apparently, the wind doesn't like the rain either. he totally wanted my umbrella. at first we argued like small children do for the tv remote or a favorite toy. he'd pull; i'd pull harder. i'd kick him in the shin; he'd flip the umbrella inside out. we did this for about 3 blocks, then for a brief span of time, the wind claimed the umbrella as his own, taking it away from me and skipping down the street with it. who knew the wind was such a fruit? i shook my fist and threw expletives at him, doing my best impression of a homeless woman i once met in miami but my teeth kept getting in the way of my attempts to properly slur. about a half block later, the wind decided it didn't like my umbrella so much, leaving it floating in a puddle. it was now raining both above and under my nylon canopy. i laughed heartily to myself and shook my head at that darn wind, doing my best impression of a man i met living in a cardboard box in london.

coming home early from work yesterday, i waited for my train at what i thought was an empty platform, and as i'll have a tendency to do when i'm alone, i began to talk to myself with occasional outbursts of song and dance, as required by whatever was streaming into my ears via headphone at the moment. there i am, muttering to myself about where the hell my keys are - "well... they're not in there... hmm... maybe check the outside pocket... but why the fuck would i put them in there?" - and doing a little side-to-side step in rhythm with jay jay johanson... you know, basically being a complete dork. so i'm sorta lost in my head, when i look up because it felt like the air had changed. there looking right back at me are two girls maybe a couple years younger than me. busted! i stopped talking mid-word and instantly ceased "dancing". while i have no idea how long they had been on the platform with me, i made a point to sit in a different car than them.

other things that have happened:

we ran out of quarters and nickles at work on monday; you try making change with only dimes and pennies.

i got completely sloshed on saturday, began the end of my evening alone at hydrate, and made semi-important decisions with the new best friend i mentioned in a post prior; let's just say people were definitely calling their friends sunday afternoon telling stories about the fucking drunk guy at hydrate, i was the drunk guy, and the story was ugly.

sunday, i tripped over a rise in the carpet at best buy and fell down smack in the middle of the dvd section; i wasn't even there to look at dvds - it was just a shortcut to the remotes.

i poked a woman repeatedly with my umbrella while riding the train to work but didn't realize until about the fourth time it happened; she's lucky she wasn't one seat over or it would have been in her eye.

thus, i rest my case. the universe is clearly trying to best me, slowly but surely. day by day. one straw at a time...

but it's failing miserably because through some divine chance of insanity, i'm loving it all. i keep laughing it off, calling my friends immediately after each little occurrence and divulging every embarassing detail. i have to say that i'm beginning to think penelope cruz would have a crush on me because i'm turning out to be one damn good camel with a back made of steel.

the universe is so my bitch... and the wind is next.

i.f.o.t.d. - near my apartment, there is a small park - and by small park, i mean a vacant lot where a building used to be. according to what i've witnessed so far, this park is the coolest fucking thing in the world, if you're a bird. everyday, this little patch of gravel, weeds, and chainlink fence is chockfull of birds, seemingly having the greatest time of their lives. seriously, we're talking tons of birds. anyhow, my fear is that while walking by the bird park, a car will backfire or someone will get shot or they'll all turn evil and take to the sky in a massive flock. now, i'm not afraid of the birds themselves; no, i'm afraid that once in the air, they'll all poop on me.

Monday, April 11, 2005

weekends are wasted on the young.

i made absolutely no use of the past 48 hours. accomplished nil. i have officially lived in the new apartment for over a week, and no more has been unpacked than from the first day. the den is inhabited by a pack of seemingly-less-than-wild boxes. they lounge, haphazardly strewn around the floor, bellies full from a days old feast on my belongings. they stare back at me, strangely sleepy, but i am wise to their treachery. there is nothing good about those boxes.

it still smells like fresh paint, too. i've since become immune to the odor, but i know it's there. everything i eat has a tinge. my daily cologne is made by sherwin williams. my perception of time from the past week or so is slightly hazy, ever-so-altered from inhalation. perhaps, now that i have heat, i'll open a window and air the place out a bit. good-bye, free high.

while i may not be unpacked, that time spent otherwise did allow me to become fully versed in the 50 steamiest southern stars. thank you, e! for your neverending supply of television perfectly suited for killing an entire day. spoiler alert! beyonce took home the number 1 spot on the list, further proving that her thighs look so huge in the soldier video because she has an entire network living up her ass. i must admit i was shocked to see her rule over all the other deep-fried, "i do declare"-ing stars and starlets, as e! just finished following matthew mcconaughey around on his publicity junket for "sahara" resulting in an e! exclusive special, "matthew mcconauhey, uncut". mr. mcconaughey came in at number 2. it's comforting to see they haven't completely lost their minds.

the young are wasted on weekends.

living all by my lonesome for the past week, i fear, has intensified my already harrowing love affair with the drink. molly is yet to settle into the new homestead, so i've been left to my own devices, which mostly consist of jack daniels and e!. i've found myself turning everything into a drinking game that can be played with only one contestant. i, now, have certain commercials, catch phrases, jingles, and character entrances that require a shot. perched indian-style (still not sure if that's p.c. or not) on my makeshift couch - an incredibly sad stack of assorted blankets, sleeping bags, and floor rugs - i eagerly, hungrily even, watch the boob tube. awaiting an anticipated peter francis geraci commercial (for which i am required to drink from the beginning until he says his name), i find i'm cheering for myself and booing my competitors. i almost always win.

all this time socializing with myself has had an added benefit: i enjoy my own company so much more now. i found out that i'm pretty entertaining. for two fridays in a row, my friends have been late meeting me at the bar. late to the tune of 30 to 45 minutes. i found this delightful. i got to spend more quality time with a few of my favorite friends: jack, jose, and me. i've truly learned that i can be independent. i make myself laugh, i'm good at meeting people when by myself, and i pretty much never disagree with myself. i'm my own perfect friend. i'm my own bff.

...yet i long for molly to move in because my new besty and i can't be trusted to make my own decisions. i mean, it makes sense. of course my logic is clear and persuasive to me. me trying to convince myself that my decision is at least right for the time being is like convincing a dog that he loves snausages. all dogs love snausages. they're so delicious. likewise, my decisions are always right at the time they're made. it's the reviewing them later thing that causes me so much trouble. hindsight is a curse, and foresight is nonexistent. i really need someone around asking me the important questions. "is that really the best thing to say to her right now?" "do you really want to eat that?" "shouldn't you sleep in your own bed tonight?" "wouldn't it be better to call first?" "is licking that dog's back really the greatest of ideas?"
without molly around, i'd probably go with "yes" on all counts.

irrational fear of the day (from here on to be known as i.f.o.t.d.): while boarding the l, i am consistently stricken with the fear that i'll somehow fall into the gap between the platform and the train, dying much in the fashion of the stick figure on the signs warning about the electrified rails.

Friday, April 08, 2005

it's been a long time, baby, but we're gonna be all right.

anyhow, i plan to pick my little ditties back up here. i have moved, and now, have regular internet access. woot! plus, i have a job that affords long stretches of time at the office with nothing to do. and double woot!

as for my last post back in november, well... i'm gonna have to pull a st. elsewhere or dallas here, and jump the shark. it was all a dream... in many ways. i've reread the thing i was planning to share wtih everyone, and in light of the election's results, it's really no longer applicable.

regardless, like genital herpes being treated with valtrex, i'm back.

an undirected p.s. - i now live with molly, so how strange is that. the world works in mysterious ways, kiddies. indeed.