More fun than Mayonnaise... or at least equally fun... OK, it's less fun, but you're still reading...
More fun than Mayonnaise... or at least equally fun... OK, it's less fun, but you're still reading...
did anyone see wed night's sunset? one of the most amazing things ever. i was in the middle of dinner.... in the middle of a tv show... and i ran out the door to see it.... no camera... no sweater... just one of those spectacular nights you can only dream of...
once or twice a year i watch a movie that makes me excited to make movies. this year's lucky prize goes to "the science of sleep", suggested by dsplit. quirky, funny, real, absurd. everything made out of cardboard made me laugh. one on hand, i'm glad someone made it. on the other, i'm upset i didn't get to. i also ate ice-cream tonight.
straktospheric event proposition :: 43c
destination :: pedal.pub
cost :: $20/person (full pub assumed)
duration :: 2 hour evening
skirting the issue of whether you should pepper your university with advertisements promoting your university to people who already attend..... we can all agree that there is no reason tell people how to get to the university after you have already arrived.
all womens and mens new shoes must be crafted from italian woods by joseph debach. the world wide interwebs doesn't do justice to the fly in-person displays i saw....
i hate making people fill out stupid surveys about themselves, but i love the idea of visual dna [a string of pictures revealing your preferences/personality].
maybe it's all the cold medicine talking, but i'm posting a link to the survey anyway... at home sick.... slept all afternoon.... need a nap soon...
i couldn't fall asleep because my arm had the hiccups.... i moved it, i shook it, i rolled over, but the muscle continually twitched at average hiccup speeds until i fell asleep.... i guess this is the cross those of us with rapidly growing muscles need to bear...
12:02am :: culling my closet. broke down and got new spring shirt. one old shirt must go.
09:27am :: i went to my homepage because it links to other blogs i like. in the last 9 hours i had totally forgotten i was doing a running blog. there was a disappointing lack of email this'morn.
10:56am :: i vill video blog [decided, fri]. made my first comment on a friend's schmlog [endorsed].... then i realized i stole this "running blog" idea from her bf.... will i give him credit? never!
04:22pm :: just realized a running blog = a regular post, if nobody checks regularly. but then a lack of audience has never stopped me before...
08:51pm :: tried to read, but the beet lady sat behind me on the connector and i kept both ears glued to her conversation about an upcoming wrist surgery.... gupta softly mumbled in the background...
thank you to every package catcher in the great stuff free-for-all. today's stationwagon-trunk's worth of goodwill boxes hammered the final nail in this coffin of apartment reclamation! my life is back! tomorrow i begin doing what i was doing 2 weeks ago [candy chart, UB??].... time unfreezes.... as i wait for the next rainy saturday to tackle those obnoxious-but-livable projects like a 49er tackles a mute kimono dragon....
race :: for justice
distance :: 5 kilometers
status :: kompleted
time :: 26.53 [official]
cause :: supporting mn lawyers
stuff addendum :: i feel great. i stopped at four people's houses to unload stuff that had been encroaching on my life. here's hoping it will be useful to them. silly stuff.
i hate stuff.
this weekend i packed stuff, sorted stuff, stacked stuff, threw out stuff, recycled stuff, compacted stuff, rearranged stuff... only to find more stuff.... then i realized what a waste of time stuff is. it's seems important at the time.... it seems like something you'll never live without.... and then you come across a box of every geography assignment from 7th grade.
stuff wastes your time, wastes your space, and wastes your sanity.... i don't want it anymore....
April is still wet behind the ears. She came in like a lion instead of a liar. The one opportunity I had to make socially acceptable pranks is over and done and I never took advantage of her.... At least that's what I'm claiming when the investigations start-up....
national day of celebration
:: disstraktor honored with parades
:: children rejoice in streets
:: one cat seen wearing party hat
M: integrate childhood memories, tupperware, into apartment [CHECK]
T: mail assortment of packages awaiting postage [CHECK]
W: submit poetry somewhere to get published [CHECK]
Th: do a real cleaning [CHECK]
memories lost :: 4 garbage bags, 3 recyclable bags, 8 mall of america brochures, countless copies of old band programs.
memories retained :: binders of childhood art, old journal, school projects, awards won while i was still doing things i loved.
HAPPY PI DAY!
mandatory U holiday this weekend in honor of circumference over diameter.
3.14159-2653589-7932384-626-43 :: the only digits i can remember
delighted to see the little yellow key in my p.o. box, i knew an unexpected package was moments away. opening the 2'x2'x3' "train locker", i was surprised to see a simple manila envelope staring back at me.
walking back to my apartment, i shook the envelope with trepidation since this friend often peppers her letter with glitter or spangles of unknown genus. sure enough, this shook with tell-tail signs of "carpet-dirtiers".
inside was a beautiful macaroni scene of a hammock between two palms by the ocean.... and just as enjoyable was the little sign on the front, which the USPS actually headed.... reading: macaroni card. please hand stamp.
i am in love. seriously.
i ate at cosmos [downtown.msp :: $$$$$$$$]
i'm in love with the frosted glass ambiance.
i'm in love with the attentive staff [a toned-down andy dick sporting businessman hair]
i'm in love with the intermezzos they surprised me with between courses.
i'm in love with the spice garden they braised into my lamb.
i'm in love with the crunch of dark chocolate against a smooth raspberry sorbet.
i loved how she challenged me [raspberry & beet]
i loved how she held me.
thankfully, i'm no stranger to paying for love.
rodrigo station
winter defense through spandex.
snow, ice, sleet, or rain
i'm here to protect.
i carry a full list of oscar "best pictures" in my wallet.... if i don't know what to rent, i can always pick a classic movie of cinematic importance.
i have never used it.
i also never watch the oscars. they don't award my movies [little miss sunshine vs the departed].
sometimes every tree needs good pruning.
At 5:45 (Central Time) Snickers "Turkey Dog" Hanson passed away. She had been unusually somber the last day, so Dad tried to regale her spirits with Chicken for two. (People food, playing ball and walks never failed to delight her. ) After dinner, she quietly surveyed her backyard dominion one last time. The austere spring air coaxed her to stay out as long as nature would allow. Dignified and clear in spirit, she pittered back to her favorite hallway napping ground, where she gracefully tucked her head between her paws and heaved that peaceful sigh of contentment.
since i was born, the sheep population [new zealand] has decreased from 70 million to 40 million.
trains don't even account for 1% of passenger trips taken within new zealand.
sadly, sheep now comprise less than .0002% of new zealand train conductors.
existentialism: devoting all your time to arts and academics only to realize that future generations won't care because those people don't pass on their jeans.
SCAM.PREREQUISITS
* empty gift card
* recently thrown away receipt with timestamp you can point to.
SCAM.NARRATIVE
"I just returned this sweater... but they wouldn't give me cash, so they credited this gift card [sympathy]. I can't find anything I want [more sympathy], so would you buy this gift card from me at 75% of its value [the hook]. Here's the receipt [build trust]... if you want to use my cell phone, you can call to verify the card [impractical offer, but more trust]..."
SCAM.EXECUTION
scamee hands over $10. scammer heads straight for the door, but not suspiciously fast.
SCAM.SUMMARY
i immediately went to a cashier to verify the card after our transaction. waiting in line was the LONGEST two minutes of my life. luckily, everything was legit.... this time... but i'll never again hand over money without verifying the card first.... no matter how grisly and smoke-filled his voice sounds...
some days everything you should write will get you in trouble with someone... or fired...
so instead, i write about the terrible cold that drove enough bikers indoors that the janitors had to put up indoor warning signs about bikers.
sorry.
removed dead leaves from plants and emptied junk from coat pockets.
replaced coat nickles and pennies with quarters.
mourned my carnage before her final burial.
welcome to the council of dvds final report.
i had blockbuster totalaccess for 12 of my 14-day trial. in this time, i received 2 "wrong" dvds and 2 "broken" dvds. the shows i yearn to watch are demarked as "short wait" or "long wait" and never shipped. furthermore, the in-store free rentals[apparent perk] rarely provide what i want.
are these problems just as prevalent with american start-up netflix [up and coming]???
the council decision: no
code: 74ð
**UPDATE**
upon the unanimous advice of the council, i quit blockbuster and will enlist in netflix. thanks to all participants.
warning level :: § [smashed car window]
location :: uptown old chicago
incident time :: 11:00pm [central time]
theivery :: none
calling the police yielded no reaction since (1) there were no witnesses, (2) there were no suspects, (3) there was no hotwiring. insurance company [farmer's] procured new glass within 12 hours, to my amazement. upon first viewing the carnage, i feared the loss of my notes/writing binders. after verifying their safety, all else seemed petty.... but that didn't prevent the drive home from being cold.
** BEGIN OFFICIAL ENDORSEMENT BULLETIN **
on one leg, stand up straight in front of a chair or table.
keeping it straight, put the other leg up on said chair or table.
stretch.
this is the greatest physical pleasure known to god fearing men. do it daily and your jeans will fit better, you will earn more money and you'll finally find happiness. ignore this warning and a plague of locusts will eat your styrofoam latte cups for seven years.
stretch to be performed en masse at my wedding, child's baptism and funeral.
** TRANSMISSION COMPLETE **
*** NEWS ALERT ***
update your bookmarks and interweb habits to comply with new zoning:
» http://www.generationbob.com
feature set:
† photoblog [3-5 new pictures/week]
† quoteblog [1-3 new quotes/week]
† movieblog [2-4 new movie reviews/month]
† midnight urban style [aka "stratosphere @ dusk"]
† plus all the regular generation[bob] posts you love
don't be sorry, go to: http://www.generationbob.com
***************
my apologies for the recent lack of posting, but i've been doing a lot of re-calculating. 2007 is the year of change[life, all aspects]... this new eDentity is step one. hey gb, i'm whiny and afraid you'll stop posting just when i start relying on you for my daily happiness. have faith. many weeks of photos and quotes have already been uploaded to prevent such droughts.
happy birthday generation[bob]... you just hit 365 posts.... that's one computer year!
next.generation[bob]
status :: re-construction
new.feature :: photoblog
new.feature :: movieblog
new.style :: urban[nightfall]
grand.relaunch :: monday january.15[2007]
is it more amazing that i keep writing entries or that you keep returning to read them? either way, we are in an unhealthy relationship. thank goodness change is hard. we can continue indefinitely... just don't tell me how i've become more like your mom and i won't tell you my dad leaves comments like that. sure, i may someday add a photoblog or fix my stylesheet, but i'll still be the same jerk... leaving obnoxious posts like this one...
[one plus one]
the new year will hopefully bring about a generation[bob] photoblog. i want it to start with a pink bead necklace that broke in our parking lot... spilling all over the charcoal asphalt...
[one plus one plus one]
paranoias can be quite different. a good friend has general anxiety... all the time. i have small, bizarre worries... like how many squares of toilet paper i use versus my roommate.... if we prorated tp on a per square basis, does our usage warrant a 50-50 cost split???
bond: gritty, sobering, real [for a bond film]
driving from bond: hearse, headlights off, man in brisk overcoat, straight posture, neighboring apartment complex. i keep the conversation going, but really am wondering how life changes in a second.
best buy has terrible service. best buy has bad service. problems with best buy. can you tell where this post is going? answer: nowhere, i blew my wad in the opening.
i bought a warranty (PSP) from best buy (geek squad) for my home computer. the CD/DVD burner stopped working, but everything else was fine. what should have been a simple 1-day part swap, turned into them stealing my computer for a month and never fully resolving the problem.
i will not shop at best buy.
i will not buy a warranty from best buy.
... to end on a happier note, i highly recommend: Penzey's Spices [fresh delicious spices, reasonable prices] and Ing Direct [banking, highest interest rates around, get $25 if i refer you] best buy has bad service. best buy has terrible service.
actual cnn black frydai article dokumenting:
car maheim in tennessee...
crazy macy's manhattanness...
and three shoppers sitting alone at some mall in north dakota.... dontchaknow.... could ya pass dat dere cinnabon, betsie?
DISSTRESSOR bought google and is using his financial might to tumble the straktosphere [run on google technology]. His unstoppable troops are making headway into Generation Bob's playground. Defeat looks inevitable, which is why we begun diverting resources from electronic shields to establishing a vast network of underground resistence. VIVE LA DISSTRAKT</communication>
since the guessed vanished, i obviously can't ask them how vigorously they stirred... and we'll never know whether the knife (a giveaway of how deep they mixed) was hand-washed in a selfless act of giving back to the hosts or a hostile pb-cover-up.
in summary: does anyone want a free jar of natural smucker's chunky peanut butter. buying a new jar is the only way to free my mind from this investigation.
i tried to unlock my car door [front, driver] but instead of putting the key in the lock, i somehow pushed the entire locking mechanism deep into the door.... where it fell into the hollow, steel depths of my car. the lock still works [auto-unlock-button, other side], and the lock is still there [rolls and clinks when i turn].... but i'll be giggered if i could essplain what just happened....
today, the day after halloween, is actually the best shopping. wigs, capes, hats and other forms of tom-foolery are on sale.
be there.
but i often wonder what she is up.... if she still has the same soft, flaxen hair. aside from beautiful straktospherian headlines and anonymously poetic signatures, she never made it big. never got discovered. never played broadway. but she still manages to find work.... as long as there are travel, food and home improvement channels on cable...
most recent: friday, a co-worker convinced me to watch "notorious" and then roomie came home an hour later with a rental of notorious.
coolest: late night link hopping the day before spring break, i found and got tickets to a week-long conference on dream symbolism.
why? it's a delicate swatch of idealism, perfectionism and cockynessm pulled taut over the sadistic cannon of anti-hedonic tendencies with a chaser of moderate-to-low self-esteem.
in another words, why hold hands when you can write a poem? why make banal dinner conversation, when you can make an audience laugh? why steal bases when you could watch beakman's world... get your ham radio license... bake croissants... embrace unfettered possibility.
super duper double dog tired. can't sleep. woke up dreaming that i put my upstairs neighbors in burning quicksand... just to make sure the job got done.
creative acts (like blogging) require creative energy.... but you have to pamper yourself and relax in order to recharge your batteries. i am out of snoose after 5 shows this weekend. tonight i recharge with a movie and grilled hamburgers.
this fall, beakman's world returned to syndication and i now have hope that the rest of my life will fall in place.
anyone wishing to understand how my mind works need only watch one episode (or montage clip). beakman's world is the externalization of my brain: penguin puppets, men in rat suits, lime green lab coats, stupid puns, viewer mail and bad dancing.
fox. saturday mornings. 9am and 10am. (particularly 10am... "the later seasons").
note: all comments reflecting bill nye in a positive light will immediately be deleted and the author will be shot. consider yourself warned.
for those of you who had not noticed a difference in quality, please look closer at my posting history. there IS a subtle different between a well polished turd and a turd.
recharging my vibe between songs, my only friend in the room left me to my own devices where i struck up a conversation with a local cheese saleswoman.
we talk.
we laughed.
we talked more.
i awkwardly begged her for her sassy sandals, claiming they would complete my ensemble....
and as she got pulled away, she invited me to her cheese shop where i would "learn the secret to amazing grilled cheeses."
so now, a la sarah jessica parker, i type, alone, on my bed: does a relationship need to be based on more than just cheese?
[introduction of problem]
i haven't had time to wash them and they've been burning a whole in the pockets of my other pants... so i did it. i wore used jeans without washing them. all day long my legs have itched. i have felt spiders crawling into my socks. i check myself for ticks every hour. i've googled diseases/infections/infestations that love denim. and i throw-up a little each time i smell their pugnant vintage aroma. in fact, i may be typing this in my office, pantsless.
[a surprising, yet inevitable resolution]
anyone care to mambo? i need something to wisk my mind off her feet.
I generally don't like you tube because I'm an old dial-up-er at heart who lives for streamlined, quick-loading pages. Cozy internet armchairs like youtube make me nervous. However, today's menu features a brilliant little video that delights me on so many levels.
plus, it is only 4 seconds long....
I tried picking on people in person.... on the phone... via email.... and everybody ignored me. I guess you're all too good to punch old GB on the arm. Fine. I didn't want to fight anyway.
Singing "diamonds are a girl's best friend" at the top of my lungs on 94 westbound, I realized that two of my favorite movies (and CDs) feature lounge singers (technically 3 do, but I don't consider Annie Hall a professional musician)... not only that, but I like these movies because they're about lounge singers.
So where do you get to know them? Why do I only see them in movies? Is it true that if you look around a room and don't see any lounge singers than you are probably the lounge singer? Do any of you have BBQs and invite your lounge singers friends? Someone must because everyone love burgers.
i'm surprised that i actually liked lentils. i guess they are more than a cool bean to glue to mother's day cards.
started playing an online government simulation in an attempt to connect with polisci co-workers on a personal and meaningful level. in five days, my policies lead 12 million citizens into anarchy.
i want to blow my nose right now, but i've got nothing to blow out. i just really want to blow my nose, but not in a cold way. in a dusty-post-sneeze way. it would be very satisfying.
I just want to go home. I have grocery shopping, other shopping, cleaning, unpacking, reading, relaxing and many other gerands that I want to accomplish. But my sister is dragging her feet.... wanting to watch videos, wanting to bake pies, wanting to sort through old toys. I would go outside and smash an apple in the driveway out of frustration, but there are so many bees that I would be stung to death walking back to the house, sucrose and blood dripping from my shoes.
What's the deal with posting emails? I had a really fun email I sent someone, but I felt dirty and unloyal also posting on a blog. It was much more interesting than this post.
We met at the gym. My normal 25 min routine stretched into 45 min because we had such great conversation. But at the restaurant she only had one-word answers. I tried to talk about travel, movies, art, music, cool local attractions, shared college experiences. However....
"Do you watch a lot of TV?"
"Don't own one."
"Without TV killing your time, you must have a lot of really cool hobbies."
"No. I watch lots of DVDs on my computer."
"Cool, is there a genre you really like? Favorite actor? Series?"
"Nah."
"What did you just watch recently?"
(long pause) "Old School."
"Did you like it?"
"It was fine."
"I thought it was funny, particularly when they were regifting the bread maker... but a little too much naked Will Ferrell for me."
"I guess."
She also looked better at the gym than in the gray hooded sweatshirt she wore to dinner.
Our conversation was disjointed at the gym (pause to exercise to watch something on TV)... but those same gaps stayed at dinner and were painfully long without an activity to distract us.
She physically reminded me of a friend's woman who I have never found attractive, so that was creepy when I looked at her.
Perhaps I went to a bad restaurant since this is my second bad experience. (Last one was meeting an old kindergarten accquaintance)
It was the first time I ever blurted out "no" when the waitor asked if I wanted dessert.
A caped crusader with his sidekick of rhymed couplets, who exactly is the Anonymous Poet? He is a friend and guardian of Generation Bob's playground called in by the telltale signs of comment-dearth. Equipped with the brilliance of Mark Twain, the wit of Ambrose Bierce and the signature mask of a grandmaster ninja, he assaults boredom with sais of motif.
Your secret is safe with me. It's the least I can do.
night(s) 1, 2: loud neighbors until 2am. complaining only yielded that she has guests who will be gone after night 3.
night 3: stay out until 1am since neighbors would keep me up. went for drinks with a really famous national improver. just being around him inspired me to be a better performer. improv is a way of life, not a 2-hour show.
night 4: dead tired, i went to bed early, took a sleeping pill just to be sure, and slept like a baby.
night 5: normal sleep. dream of visiting a magical germanic castle a few hours north of minneapolis. the front gates of minneapolis had a fountain but hidden in the fountain was a beautiful soap mold. if you brought soap mix, you could have a magestic sea-shell shaped bar. riding around town in carrage you could tell a lot about the buildings in town (all shaped like warehouses) by the varying colours of blue that were painted on them. later at a fancy-pants restaurant, i got up to go to the bathroom.... walking through the "bathroom" door was a maze of stairs, swimming pool, elevator and escalator... all amounting to an additional 10 minutes of travel to actually reach the toilet.
Quietly transfering mail for an even quieter faculty member, a high pitched scream reverbates through the 12th floor of my office complex. STEVE, HELP. I come running out, with a shoe-less colleague to find a book case falling on top of a pregnant faculty member. She and her husband are doing all they can to keep the bookcase from teetering harder than the town drunkerd. We help push the bookcase back against the wall and the adrenaline slowly wore off.
Later that day, I got a free pencil. I love how the universe rewards good deeds.
when was the last time you got soap in your eye? it almost happened to me tonight. after the sudden rush of fear, i was over come with memories of tear-free johnson and johnson's shampoo. why did i ever switch? i don't think this conditioner stuff is doing that much for me.
Unhinging the Press-and-Seal crinkles like a roll of fresh packing tape. I move to the kitchen because my roommate is trying to sleep for the bar exam in the bedroom next to mine. Suddenly, the packaging bursts open and I am overcome with the fragrance of graham cracker. It's actually butterier than graham crackers, but my nose never figures that out. I pour 2% chocolate milk into my cow coffee mug and walk back to my bedroom.
Admiring the matching "fork marks" on the cookie and chocolate it's hard to tell exactly what the proportions of chocolate to cookie will be. The words "coco leibniz" are etched in between dimples on the cookie. I take my first bite and am immediately amazed by the crunch of this sturdy bar. An initial sting of bitterness hits my tongue as the crisp chomps slowly melt into a rich wave of milk chocolate. I take a second bite and don't notice the bitterness, just the primordial dance of butterfats and cacao.
The bite mark reveals the cookie is 80% biscuit despite the balance of flavor with his oft overpowering brother, cacao. I take a drink to clear my palette and dunk the cookie. The biscuit is impenetrable by liquid and the crunching is only exacerbated by the suddenly cooled chocolate. Another sip of milk washes away the straggling shards of biscuit. With one sixth of the bar left, I take a big sip of milk and simultaneously crunch the bar as if Kellogg's had finally based a cereal off my input. The final bite was disappointing because I loved the bipolar change from bad cop crunch to the good cop salve of chocolate. Perhaps, this is why they are best eaten in pairs.
Why yes, there is stuff on my cat [.com]. What can one say when they come across this site? I am without words. My favorite was the cat-as-placemat.
i feel as though a posting is necessary, but i haven't done much that's blogworthy.... been mostly keeping to myself. our chimeny got swept yesterday. now we won't start fires while we aren't using our fireplace. roomie is studying hard for the bar next week. got rid of old books. threw out old boxes. reorganizing the office. excited for m. night shamalan's new movie. wish i had eaten more ice-cream. had forgotten how much i love summer thunderstorms. don't know what to do with monopoly money i keep finding as i clean.
The sun rises over the deep green hills of Southern Minnesota. The shadow of a loon silloettes the burgeoning red fireball and I turn my attention to comforting churn of white propellers. Each rotation drains another quarter penny out of the wallet of one foolish blog owner who just agreed to power his apartment with wind.
It's only $1/week, but part of me feels like I've been taken for a ride.
the week without reading is over and it was tough.
downside of the week: interesting people i missed emailing and fun blogmasters i missed interacting with.
upside: learned how frequently i went to cnn and other junk sites just as a way to pass time.
verdict: hope to use that junk time more efficiently.
(nothing to report about giving up tv. it was easy and i didn't miss it much)
Experiment One:
I am on a reading deprivation diet because my arteries have become clogged with transfatty cnn.coms and high cholestoral economist.coms. As a side-effect, I also won't be reading blog comments or your blogs.
Experiment Two:
A week of unfettered, unmoderated commental freedom.
In the comments section, introduce yourself to others (for real or fictitiously)... introduce yourself again how you really are... if you're having a bad day, write "i feel rotten" and don't sign your name.... if your bored, write what you'd love to be doing now.... start a story.... write a poem.... journal... relax... laugh.... live.... vent.... interact... just be you....
The only rules are: no profane comments, no junk comments (that goes for you too mr. junk commentor) and don't belittle other people's posts. What happens when people are given a blank virtual space to interact freely and safely? Please write. If you're stuck, write about these random internet people:
Are you ready for the graffiti of life?
Update 07.13.2006
Experiment one is tougher than I expected, and I find myself accidently reading quite often.
Experiment two is done and was a bust. Thanks to "not a muse" for playing along.
I made a friend pick between reading my blog and giving me his grill. Now I've got a charcoal weber sitting on my back stoop and I don't really know what to do with it. I'd love to make perfect burgers, but betting odds favor:
[a] burning down something taller than 6 feet
[b] food poisoning within 48 hours
[c] a spontaneous game of scrabble
Walking along the Mississippi, I strayed from the cement path, following well beat-down grass for thirty feet so that I could get a view of the sunset while sitting on a stony alcove. Unsure if I was trespassing on Federal land, my palms sweat for a few minutes until I ran into a barefoot middle-aged man drinking Mountain Dew, two couple with guitars singing like John Mayer and another couple watching the sky from a blanket they brought with them or made there... I don't know which. I was suddenly surrounded by more people in these bluffs than the sidewalk along river road.
The sunset was beautiful, I saw real fish flopping around in the Mississippi and a pair of birds fluttered around the bushes. Was I actually in St. Paul proper?
This may sound like a rhetorical question, but I'd really like to know "where does life go?"
The way it slips through your fingers quicker and quicker must have something to do with the molecular structure of white castle burgers, but I just can't put my finger on the exact connection...
What a week! One day I was reveling in my loneliness, the next I realized I had been fornicating every night for a year, then it hit me it wasn't much more fun than watching TV and finally everything returned to "normal"
Roomie is studying the bar and had the legal definition of fornication on a flashcard. There's the obvious definition and there's a second test: "a man and a women cohabitating openly and notoriously".... which I did my first year in Minneapolis! I immediately notified my former roommate and her husband reguarding the state of her purity.
Then it hit me that fornication wasn't any more fun than watching TiVo all night. So what's the point of continuing life? How is this helping my species? How do birds and bees do it without electricity?
Finally google told me that MN does not recognize the second test... so I actually hadn't been fornicating for a year.
What an emotional week.
1. 5 oz bag of dried cherries, roughly 4 cherries remaining
2. Simon & Schuster's Guide to House Plants
3. Green pen with cap chewed up
4. Sticky note with last half of a URL (/~webtrn11/)
5. Travel brochure to South America
6. Letter opener with another room's number taped to it
7. Piece of chocolate wrapped in multi-colored foil to look like a finger
8. Wacom graphics tablet
9. Chinese for "You Know Dog Farts"
10. A sticker with the mystery number "2110925"
12:46PM
Receive email picture I find funny. Want to post it, but it doesn't seem to apply to my life.
2:14PM - 4:48PM
Receive news all afternoon about things I like scheduled to change (and in opposite ways than I'd like them to change). In another word, lots of bad news.
12:26AM
Post a picture that now seems appropriate.
12:30AM
Wonder why I stay the same, when the world around me wants to change.
Think about combating change with change of my choosing.
Excited that I finally have an excuse to do things I have been afraid to.
Sorry for the cripticity of this entry, but the nature of the changes do not lend themselves to public record. (Sex changes never do.)
What's even better than budgeting? Running reports on financial data you've been collecting over 5 years....
Food
63% - Spent on Groceries
25% - Dining at Restaurants
12% - Dining out, while on vacation
Grocery Stores
82% - Rainbow Foods (the closest)
16% - Cub (on the way home from most places I go)
1.3% - Lunds (expensive chocolates)
Gas
Over 4 years, the amount I pay has trended from $14/fill-up to $17/fill-up.
I have always believed that I would wait to buy gas until I found a good deal... and then buy a lot of gas.... however, running regression analysis on my checkbook shows that the pump price only explains 1% of my purchasing behavior (R^2 = 0.11, F=.706). Days-between-fills is a much more powerful indicator, but still only explains 5% of my purchases (R^2 = .056, F=4.022). Thus, since both variables are very low, I conclude that my gas purchases are fairly inelastic and affected more by personal whims than market changes.
The density of dots in the first third of graph show the massive amounts of driving I did while living in South Dakota (until Jan 04). The the density of dots then shrinks when I moved to Minneapolis and started riding the bus. Finally, the density increases slightly (April 05) when I start driving to uptown to do Comedy Sportz.
South Dakota = 7.5 fills/month
Minneapolis, while riding the bus = 2.75 fills/month
Minneapolis, doing Comedy Sportz = 3.75 fills/month
Addendum (6/15/06):
I couldn't sleep because I know that the price pump has more of an influence on me than just 1% of my purchasing habits, so I began thinking about my methodolgy. Comparing Total Spent and Pump Price is a bad comparison. When the pump price increases, I will buy fewer gallons (lowering my total spent) but it also costs more per gallon (raising my total spent). What I really want to compare is pump price to gallons purchased. When I run that regression analysis, pump price has an R-squared of .078.... which means the pump price explains about 8% of the GALLONS I buy.
I went to a fancy-pants restaurant (St Paul Grill--made sure to wear regular sneakers, not orange laced ones) for a birthday dinner and ended up doing vallet parking for the first time. (Normally I would have avoided it, but all of the hourly parking decks had a jacked-up "concert rate" because the Boss was in town).
Valet was very confusing and I had no idea who we were suppoosseed to tip.... the guy who takes your car? the guy in the top hat who you give your car-retrival coupon to? the guy in gray shorts/shirt who actually drives your car to you? all of them? none of them? Do I really trust any of these people with my keys?
given my minor interest in all-things-sugar, my parents had to be extra careful to warn me against taking candy from strangers.
this week i got a seemingly-trustworthy message that cookies were in a hidden mailbox awaiting my consumption. without giving it much thought i savored a ziplock bag filled with delicious chocolate chip home-bakes. after i finished, i wondered if someone had hidden other cookies in the building and started looking around. i never found any, but i suddenly realized that someday i will die from a poisoned chocolate chip, left inconspicuously on my front door step.
but in the mean time, i shall continue to eat every mysterious cookie i can get my hands on.... particularly if they are as scrumptious as the last batch...
i've never been a big fan of children, but i saw one of the worst behaved children/most apathetic mom while i was at the post office. the postal lady went back to get apathetic mom a package. mom sets full-of-dirt obnoxious child on the counter. obnoxious kid tears the postal stickers off of all the pens and throws the bits of sticker and naked pens on the floor.... all the while, apathetic mom was saying, "you really shouldn't be doing that... oh really... no..."
conversation i wish i had had with the mother:
me: they put those flags on the pens for a reason. tell your kid to knock it off.
a.m.: have you ever tried to raise a kid? there's not that easy?
me: no. i was planning on waiting until i was mature enough to handle the responsibility.
conversation i ended up having with the postal worker (while standing way to the side of her register so that I didn't have to use the counter top where the dusty kid had been sitting):
her: i wish parents could control their kids.
me: that kid was really obnoxious
her: we put these flags on the pens for a reason.
me: you probably don't want them to be stolen.
her (in true civil-service fashion): i could care less about that. without the flags, they roll off and i have to bend down to pick them up....
my friend ramando went to best buy to try out a camera that was on sale at bestbuy.com.... he loved it and wanted to buy it, but it wasn't on sale in the store. the clerks wouldn't price-match their own corporation, so he sat at one of their test computers and bought it over the internet at bestbuy.com...
now how's that for a good chunk of americana.
site note: tomorrow begins my travel log, updated on an as-computers-are-available basis.
Walking home, I stumbled across a leather bag near my apartment. It looked like someone had left it on the top of their car.... took the corner too quickly... and then it rolled off and down the hill, spewing its contents everywhere. Pawing through the wreckage, looking for a phone number, I was amazed to unwravel this guy's life:
- Real Estate Agent commissions on pay stubs
- Covey Planner with daily checkboxes for "exercise", "walk dog", "prayer", "reba time", "reading".
- Does he like the TV show Reba? Her music? Actually, a "Rebecca" was listed on an emergency contact slip.
- Banks with Anchor; Phone through AT&T. Lives in the metro, but his family is from Hudson.
- Carries a picture of his dog in the front cover of his leather planner.
- came off as very professional. leather. nice pens. well organized. expensive looking
It made me wonder, what's in my friends' bags? what would someone think if they found my bag?
- Toothbrush, toothpaste, fingernail clipper, aloe klenexes, lotion, vitamines, aspirin, lactate, vitamin c, zicam (to ward off colds), cough drops
- Metro Transit map.
- Calendar (3 months), filled with "shows" and "rehearsals"... about twice a month, someone's name is listed on a box.
- arm strap about ready to break.
- Inside composed of two plastic grocery sacks (to "waterproof" my stuff). One sack contains my writing journal with strange stories and ideas scratched here and there... along with 4 plays, pages of poetry and other stories I have printed out in really small font. (2 pages per sheet, duplexed to 4 pages/sheet... most filled with corrections...)
- The other sack has my improv notebook with rules for 60 improv games.... notes for me.... lists of shakespearean words.... lists of words that begin with different letters.... lists of relationships people have... random sequences of letters scrolled across the top...
- ipod headphones (but no ipod)
- plastic fork, empty ziplock bag.
- a finance book critically evaluating modern portfolio theory and asset allocations.
Once a year, I fall in love with a movie. Last night, it was LA Story. It had a beautifully suspended magical realism, like Like Water For Chocolate; a wit only Steve Martin could bring to the table; and masterful weaving like Annie Hall. I can't begin to express how much I enjoyed it... instead, I find myself obsessing over when I can watch it again.
- The profundity of Harris being unhappy, but too busy being happy to realize...
- The insanity of the El Pollo Del Mar five-star hotel...
- The quest for any sort of sign to save you from your boredom beyond belief.
At the risk of insighting UB, I shall make this brief: I had my first cannolli today. Excellent! With my eyes closed it reminded me of a Krispie Kreme doughnut.
Watched an old B&W hitchcock: disappointing ("secret agent").
Watched The Muppet Show on DVD: what happened to good tv like that?
Fell in love, all over again, with the Swedish Chef: Looooooo de looooooo de loooooooo.
Also decided to keep the old men in the theatre box around. May I some day be as acrid and turse as they.
We wait for:
busses, a red light, the bathroom, lunch, the microwave, the dishwasher, inspiration, just the right time, computer installations, checkout lines, mail in refunds, grand openings, test results, medical diagnosis, transplants, Mr. Godot, retirement, bananas to ripen, checks in the mail, sequels, paint to dry, people to catch up, tables, the truth, our day in court, coffee to cool down, things to bloom...
I have always considered myself an excellent waiter...
Perhaps I have never waited for something I really want....
Vitorin (cholestoral medicine) does commercials featuring people who look like food. What's the casting call like for that? "Do you or someone you know resemble meat entrees? Come down to 84th and Broadway for your change to star in Vitorin's latest comercial."
I spelled commercial two different ways in hopes that one of them is correct.
After years about hearing about the muppet "Mah na Mah na" skit, I finally found a copy of it online. Very funny. Catchy music. I sang it loud and proud in the stairwells at work.
i have no idea where my head has been. i think officing with joonneekkee has rubbed off on me :)
twice i have left my ipod playing in my car for over 4 hours before i return to it.
twice i have lost my ipod. once, my cell phone.
today i forgot my debit card in the ATM and it got sucked inside. wells fargo is shipping me a new one. but at least i have a good excuse for today: i was thinking about the mint chocolate chip ice-cream and sugar cones sitting on the passanger seat of my car.
over an 18 month period, i have 5 offers for international travel. a mediterrainean jaunt with my roommate fell through, but i just book tickets for barcelona with my sister this summer! we nearly killed each other at times when we shared a roof in fargo, so i'm interested to see how this works out. other int'l offers still on the table:
this weekend, i got pulled aside to talk about my "foul language" on stage. yes, me, the guy who won't even write the b, f, s, or a word on a blog entry. i guess i said "crap" and "damn" on stage, both foul-able offences. in order to avoid talking about the whopper junior i had for lunch and the lasagna for dinner, i pose this question, devoid of all side-dish references such as onion rings with zesty dipping sauce, grapes and sherbet: what do you consider swear words and how would you rank them as far as vile-ness is concerned:
Not suit-able for all audiences (i.e. elderly relatives):
hell
Officially swear words:
a
b
The inner ring of dante's swear circle:
s
The judas of all swear-words (barring recent discoveries):
f
Harumph!
I ate pizza at the University Dining Service today and being a rational mieser, I eyed every slice of pepperoni before picking the largest piece with the most cheese and pepperoni. As I was spatulaing up my 'zza, a corner fell off... taking some cheese and thinly-sliced heaven with it.
"No problem," I thought. "I can always go back for a follow-up scoup since it landed on the empty half of the pan...."
NO, A dining service worker grabbed my chunk of pizza with his hand, threw it in the garbage and then walked back to the pizza oven. What the frick is happening here?
It's 2am. Aside from unwinding from tonight's show (and wondering how I got messed up with such a life-style), I am MOREamportantly killing time. My bread machine's timer can only be set 12 hours into the future.... and I'd really like bread in about 13.
After years of proposing a holiday free of large meats (ham, turkey, pigme), I finally get my wish in 13 hours. The menu: Lasagna and other 'talian fixin'(s).
i usually fall asleep on my stomach facing my right and wake up on my back facing left. last night i did that about 3 or 4 times and felt like toast.... popping in and out of a toaster.
this isn't making any sense. i'm tired today. i'm depressed because i'm mailing my tax forms. one of my perenials flopped over on itself during the weekend.
but on the upside, i had lemonade for the first time in years. excited to have more with dinner.
Here I was beginning to think that I could make it through a whole cold season with no ailments. That changed Sunday with a nasty sore throat (my least favorite part of your common cold). Been eating OJ and toast.... watching lots of DVDs.... having really lucid dreams (none of which I remember).... I woke up excited to write this post because I thought it would be tremendously interesting..... that must have been part of teh lucid dream too....
Addendum: Remembered a dream about getting a worm-sized snake as a present. I was keeping it in a 4 cup tupperware and it would coil and spring out.... which was a problem since it wouldn't stay worm-sized for long.
Best part of being sick: Afternoon of cookies on Food Network. How they are mass produced.... why we love them... how to make them.... good times.... did you know that chocolate chip cookies are #2 in America behind the Oreo?
Overheard conversation snippet: two elder-geeks.
How to scare theifs on Lake Street...
"Carrying a broad-sword is much more intimidating than stuffing an uzi in your pocket."
"You want me to walk down Lake Street with my board-sword."
"Seriously, I doubt you need a permit or anything... I mean that's how people used to scare criminals..."
"Well... they [sword] do say intimidation...."
In the shower I tried to figure out why I shower the way I do... why start with the hair? why use Pert Plus? why start drying with the hair? I wonder what percent of showering habits is environment (the layout of your particular shower) and what percent is nature (your personal showering preferences). I'd say it's 50-50.
But more interesting than that is the question of do you face the faucet or the back wall when you shower? I'm a back wall man boy myself.... [sigh].... what happened to this blog?
An irate jogger complained about her deadbeat son/boyfriend/daughter’s boyfriend via cell phone as she ran past me:
“…anything can be a book. A man and his shoe is a book! No… what he lacks is motivation… ambition… he’s got no money, no apartment, no car…�
That irritable runner inspired me to go back and work on my memoirs. Every story has been told before: just not by me.
I hate Loveograms. You email your crushes anonymously and the psychic at Loveogram (read: simplistic computer spreadsheet) tells you when there's a match.
They don't mean someone likes you... they don't give you hope.... they mean someone thinks you like them just enough to not actually say something.
Attention all work and Comedy people who use that email address: I think they're cowardly and I refuse to play. Why don't you drive down to Rainbow on Larpenteur, hang a right into the produce section, pick out a handful of crisp yet slightly tart Braeburns and suck on them apples. Yeah, you heard me.
Walking home along Como avenue, a deep-fucscia probe pulls onto the street coming towards me. As she turns, the passanger door of her car swings open towards me (for no apparant reason). Realizing the folly of driving with one door open, she slows down near me. As the driver asks me to close the door, I slam it shut for her. We both go our separate ways.
Only later, do I start wondering how her door swung open as she made the left turn? Why was she on that frequently empty street? Who buys a deep pink car? How do you spell fuchchsia?
I walked to Como park today because I really wanted to see water. Sitting by the lake for 45 minutes I watched the Robins.... they jumped around pecking at the ground and would fly back to the oak tree when a pair of Nike shoes or cockerspaniel came running by. I realized that 100% of a Robin's life is survival. They don't worry about finding the perfect bathroom rug... they aren't upset when their book from eBay arives a day late.... they never grumble when gas spikes to 2.45.
They eat.
They find shelter.
They pass on their genes.
I would say about 5% of my life is survival.
The rest is fluff.
Driving home tonight at 2:30am, I looked to downtown MSP for guidance and all the fancy building lights were turned off. The buildings were naked and I felt really saddened... like when a good friend walks out on you or your new puppy is lost in the rain.
Then I got home, had 2 new messages and they were both spam comments on this very blog. Comcast's "abuse" section got a letter about it. It's 2:30am, what else can I do with my time?
No new email from an artist I inadvertently offended with e-Sarcasm. I'm trying to win them over with a picture of a baby lamb. If this doesn't work, any suggestions?
Walking to my bus, I saw a car circling the fair grounds at about 5 mph. Someone was too lazy to walk their siberian husky on a nice 40 degree day.
Last night I watched Fun with Dick and Jane because it had been ages since I had time to go to a movie. Escaping from myself in a darkened theatre, I finally felt like myself again.
1209: The time I woke up three days in a row to use the bathroom.
7: days since my last free night.
0: times I have thought of posting since my last post.
1: professional massage scheduled this month
25: cents I earned in tips my first hour of concessions last night.
6: Age of the boy who give me the tip after trying to decide if he should buy one more airhead for himself or give me a tip.
Last night I ate dinner and then fell asleep on the couch watching cable news... my dad's favorite activity between 7-9pm....
It usually takes me 30 minutes to fall asleep, so I was surprised when I woke up and realized I didn't even make it to the first comercial break.
Plagarissismo
I love the Monday Morning Report, so I decided to rip it off from Sherman.
Weekend Science Update
I used science to overcome my physical ineptitude!
I got a new pepper grill that had to be cured in the oven... but you had to remove the wooden handles first... as you could probably guess, I was too weak to pull them off... instead of calling some girl or my roommate, I threw the grill in the freezer. The metal shrunk. The wood stayed the same size. I successfully pulled off the wooden handles!! Hazaah! Cockeyed eat your heart out!
(un)Employment Report
Got a bill for my March benefits (if I want to keep them).
Was unable to fill out a simple U form (because I was on leave).
Looks like I am no longer an employee here.
My accounting friend is fixing everything. (She agreed that reducing your 40 hr workload by 5 hrs does not equal 0.)
Leading Economic Indicators
At Cub I bought 10 of my favorite Lean Cuisine lunches at 50% and Cub threw in a free pack of ice-cream sandwhiches. Does life get any better?
Spring Break Rock Out 2006
Spring break is a few weeks away. I have a 3 day weekend... no Comedy Shows... so I think I am going to do a big writing session. It's been ages since I worked on any of my plays/essays/poetry.
The Good Times Grill
Threw Jalepeños into my Spaghetti. Wonderful! It's like a beanless cross of Chili and Spaghetti.... Spaghilli.... even bought garlic bread to accompany the tastey delight.
My parents went on vacation and got me a beautiful, hand-made ceramic cup. Blue waves swirled in the glaze before rippling along its clay body.
Holding the sturdy handle, I could no longer recall how I got out of ceramics. I just knew it was a mistake.
A warm (almost) spring morning.
My view of downtown, crystal clear.
Pure blue sky, an innocent heart.
Trapped in my moving jail,
I drive by a jogger.
She’s free:
no worries, thoughts, schemes,
broken hearts, unresolved questions.
No panic. No anxiety.
There’s just running.
One foot after another.
Peace.
Been looking more seriously at buying a place near the U.... but the prices are amazingly high! Just started waiting for bird flu to pop the housing bubble with a 25% fatality rate.
It's the age old question of: (a) settle for a crappier place with less features, (b) get what you want but live further away or (c) forget the whole notion of home ownership. I have never been one for settling.
I'm also on the brink of a new economic theory: working less so that you can devote more time on comedy is directly proportional to how hard it is to find a home in your price range.
Days like this make me want to work even less. It's just not worth it. What I wouldn't give to make some more pottery.
Trying to decide which grocery store line would be the quickest, I chose the left most lane since it had the fewest number of items in the grocery carts and the fewest number of people. The line moved quickly until the person in front of me. Then the cashier picked up his phone and paged the manager. She arrived promptly and just stood behind the cashier. As far as I could tell, she came for no reason.
Then I walk up to the cashier.
"Do you work at comedy sportz?"
"Yes"
to the manager: "Dude. I told you."
manager: "You were totally right."
[beeps as he scanned my items]
"Remember when you guys kept carrying [imaginary] VCRs from the back room?"
"Yes" (actually meaning "no")
"I'm still laughing about that today! Ah ha ha ha! And that scene about Cheers?"
"Yah" (actually meaning "yes")
"That was totally my suggestion. They were all 'What's your favorite Christmas gift' and I was all 'Cheers Season Two'!"
I only wonder if he's a Sybil for some other blog...
For V-day, some friends (and a poor, blogless soul) went out for steaks. It was a great evening, but not particularly romantic. Walking home, I thought of some romance-inducing tips to keep in mind for next year....
*Not if.
Watching the final three episodes tonight, I realized that I lost. The fight is over. No army of letters can save the dead once she has been seduced by death’s cold scythe. There is no more Arrested Development. Yes, plot holes are open for a continuation on Showtime, but the story arc I knew and loved resolved itself tonight. In a frenzy of self-reference, everything came full-circle the way it had to in an idyllic intersection of inevitability and surprise... just 3 years earlier than I would have liked. All that’s possible now is a Siddharthan river-crossing into the mother-world with repetition and variation guiding her re-debute (the good captains of Ground Hog’s Day).
Success is a two-edged sword. The same prowess that gave Arrested Development her power, stole it in the night. She was bold, smart, creative and empowering… With a watchful smile and slanted eyebrow, she let you laugh when you wanted to, but forced you to justify your outburst since there were no pre-canned laugh tracks to guide you to safe waters.
Americans don’t want to be tricked by their art. We shuffle uncomfortably past Soup Cans in museums (and flip over Arrested Development) because we’re not sure if it’s a trick or genuine art. Is it a documentary? reality tv? comedy? When do you laugh? Is incest funny? Do housekeepers live in buses? Why is there a little bit of me in every disturbing character?
Worse than any cancellation, however, is my loss of hope. For years, I have dreamed of a woman as smart, witty, sublime, complex, brash, creative, absurd and challenging as Arrested Development. Tonight I realized that the harshly practical and pedantic cultura americana leaves little room for any such flowers to bloom.
Been vacationing in Illinoissssss:
Dream Snippet: I was going to lounge around home and go to work "a little late today." Ended up going at 11am.
Sad truth: I came in at my normal time.
Snow at the wrong time yesterday increased my roommate's commute from 15 min to 1 hr.
Snow made my bus ride last 5 min longer.
It's nice to be back on the bus.
Tonight we see the (potentially) last 4 episodes of Arrested Development.
AD's inane replacement, Ice Skating with the Stars brings in triple the ratings.
This fact has made me question why I even watch TV since broadcasters aren't targeting me.
I hereby plan on not watching anything other than Family Guy and Seinfeld.
After two weeks of being away, I was ready to get home! I felt like a guy who had been in a coma for years and suddenly got a second lease on life. I ran from thing to thing.... smelling the laundry detergent I'm used to.... touching the silky fabric on my pillow... looking at pictures of Minneapolis I had taken and hung on the wall... eating tacos I made with real jalepeño, garlic and onion chunks in the meat.... and listening to the water fountain gurgle in my bedroom....
I didn't want to leave my room when the alarm rang, but I was equally excited to take a brisk morning walk to the bus, where I could close my eyes and let my mind wander for 20 minutes while the bus driver worried about lines of backed-up cars stuck on the crowded interstate above us.
Preface: I can think of obvious counter-examples... and I have no hard data or society-wide info to back this up.... however: it seems like most of my friends who are smarter, well-educated and interesting to be around have no interest in nesting and familying-down... and if they do, the instinct hit them much later in life. There are also occasional reports that the population of western europe (it's highly educated!) is down because they aren't reproducing above the replacement level. Many philosophers, like Aristotle, talk about training your mind so that you can overcome "base" (read: "sexual?") instincts and live a well-reasoned, well-measured, pious life.
But what does all this mean for Darwin?
Should I be worried that none of my smart, interesting friends are nesting? Are the comforts of the 21st century reverse-evolving us for the first time in history? Is reason really a "weaker" trait than reproduction? Does reason require you to follow some animal instincts for the betterment of society? Or is my small circle of friends an anomaly in the larger scheme of progress?
Old Joke:
* What's worse than finding a worm in your apple?
- Finding half a worm in your apple.
New Twist, concockted at lunch today:
* What's worse than finding a sticker on your apple?
I'm dog-sitting this week and driving to work from a different direction. Along the route, I found a condo that looks perfect and it's even for sale (boy do I have good tastes!).
Last night I drempt that my parents and I toured another set of condos I liked.... but we were all disappointed with the helicopter ride, so we decided we would look at the "perfect" condo. I missed the initial turn and we ended up getting all confused with one-ways, dead-ends and strangly-shaped parking lots. So we got out of the car and walked the rest of the way.... it was a maze through restaurants, stores, townhouses, parks.... I knew how to get there, but I never made it before waking up....
I think there must be a metaphor in there somewhere....
Last night I hoped to make a quick trip to grocery store. However, the Rainbow on University was sold out of the first 3 of six items I wanted.... and I really did want them, so I abondoned my cart (the second time this winter) and drove to the Cub 1 block away. I had to pay 10c more for my milk, but they had all my items and my lunches were reduced to 50%.
The pay-by-fingerprint machines are now operational and there are terminals where you can register your fingerprint. I kept my gloves on and quickly buzzed through the checkout line. I thought I'd be able to make it in the express lane, until I realized how many candy bars I'd be adding to my cart upon checkout.
Everyone I have talked to today seems to be stressed out, so I leave you with this scene of cliche, picture-perfect happiness. Please use the comment section to make your own sickeningly cute scenarios:
Four 3-week old kittens sit in a brown wicker basket playing with multicoloured string before yawning and curling up for a nap.
ADDENDUM: Monkeys On Ice
I have a bunch of strange clippings and notes on my desk. I don't quite understand what a lot of them mean, but I thought I would share them with you.
Quote I liked: Western laziness consists of cramming our lives with compulsive activity, so that there is no time at all to confront the real issues. -Sogyal Rinpoche
Chart for mailing 37c in change to someone
All Pennies = $1.06 in postage
7 Nickles, 2 pennies = $.60
3 dimes, 1 nickle, 2 pennies = $.37
1 quarter, 1 dime, 2 pennies = $.37
14 dimes =$.37
I'm sorry, but this doesn't factor in the recent price increase
Disappointing Movie of the Weekend
Wallace and Gromit. Barely worth the $2 I paid. It was clever, but I was bored during the whole movie.
Longest Dinner Wait
Saturday, I tried to go to Cafe Havanna at 8pm.... the wait was still 90minutes. Went to Machu Picchu instead. Authentic Peruvian Food = Mexican Food + Potatoes.
I've always had an interest in Eastern Religions... zen... being in the moment... meditation... relaxation... simplicity...
When I started doing improv, I gave a lot of that up because I needed more and more time for rehearsals.
Now, improv has lead me right back to where I began.
I've realized that improv is the ultimate in being in the moment. There is no time to fret about past "mistakes" you may have made.... there is no time to plan future moves like a game of chess.... all you can do is react.... like a quick flick of the wrists in ping-pong...
Last night was restless. Kept waking up. Little dream fragments scattered, mashed about in my mind. Sheets/blankets in complete dissaarraay.
It feels like a Mon, but it's tuesday. I was also one off while counting elevator floors this morning.
Depressed at the story that movie theatres may die. I love going to the theatre and would watch ALL movies in the theatre if they replayed the old ones I want to see. I imagine myself as a thirty-year-old, sitting in the one theatre left in Minneapolis with a bunch of septuagenarians watching Annie Hall, while they snack on popcorn and I refuse because I just brushed my teeth...
I had lists of personal, professional and other things that needed to get done by the end of break. Break is almost over and I have barely cracked the list. Hence, yesterday and Wed will be "get stuff done" days. Upon completion, I should be set until summer break.
Roomie backed out on our spring break plans to visit Roma. I guess 16 50-page papers to grade is too much to do while sight seeing.
Roomie and I both did a wallet thinning this week. I feel so fast and agile without all those receipts weighing me down.
Started eating breakfast last week at home. This week: it seems like too much energy too early in the morning. It was nice while it lasted!
I did not get a weekend. I don't feel relaxed. Therefore, I'm going to take Tues/Wed night and pretend they're my weekend. I will watch taped TV shows.... lounge around on the sofa.... perhaps even eat a few too many cookies.
Co-worker returned today. It's strange to use my voice again.
Had to make complicated excel formulas today. It really is a beautiful program.
Craft projects have been failing me and creating giant headaches...
Homemade Christmas Cards (nice thought, bad idea)
- exacto knife wasn't sharp enough to cut through pictures
- rubber cement was out
- paper was too heavy to run through printer
- Kmart tricked me into getting 2 minute prints instead of 1 hour prints... for double the cost....
Framed Picture of Central Park (Reason why the frame's been empty for 2 years)
- freshly windex-ed glass took splotches off of the picture. looks like snow in front of one building.
- matte got all scraped up by glass.
- glass proceeded to scrape off white-out, which was fixing said matte.
- frame took brute strength to pull apart and put back together (brute strength still missing)
- hanging on 2 nails, slightly to the right
Caffeine, my friend, my foe:
You saved me last night during my comedy show. I was fading, but together we prevailed. Little did I know the price I would have to pay as I lay awake at 1, 2, 3, 4am, with you cackling in my ear.
-Generation Bob
Every Christmas, my family has made gingerbread houses (technically Graham Cracker Houses). Above is mine, which was inspired by UB's casitas. I started with 2 little houses across from each other, joined them together in a "U" formation and then walled in the porch/added a gate.
I don't have photos of the other houses yet, but you can see everyone's houses from last year.
Eleven Months Ago, I was on a Pilgrimage exchanging Christmas Gifts because the towels I asked for (and got!) were extremely soft, but never absorbed water!
It was a 34-degree, sludgy, gray day. My CD player was on the fritz, so I decided to turn into MN Public Radio to see what it was like. The fates had everything arranged: I heard the most beautiful peice I have ever heard in my life. I sat in the parking lot for 15 minutes so I could get some glass slipper to track down this betwixing muse: The Concerto for 2 Pianos, Max Bruch.
I have thought about this piece every month since then for she's the one who reeled me back into classical music. Next to Arrested Development, Season 2, this CD was probably my favorite present this year.
Listen to clips 4-7... It's not the austere, mythical beauty I have lead others to believe.... but it's still wonderful.
P.S. In the last 11 months of listening to MNPR, I have only stopped one other time to hear the name of a piece. It happened 10 days ago and Interestingly enough, it was another Bruch. Perhaps I shall ask for it next Christmas....
Merry Christmas!
While I celebrate with Spaghetti and garlic bread, please enjoy this picture of a snowflake. I drew it because you didn't.
The other night I was a complete klutz (which is why I decided it would better to just go to bed than stay up).... I knocked over a water glass and then I dropped a bunch of tapes of my desk. After just about knocking over crackers, I dropped a glass Peanut Jar from waist height. I heard a smash, saw peanuts scatter everywhere and got upset that I'd have glass shards mixed in with my nuts. Amazingly, just the plastic top broke. Peanuts and peanut dust were still everywhere, but at least I didn't have glass on my kitchen floor. Kudos to Planters for making one hell of a peanut jar! It's as if they knew me.
Last night I felt chilled, so I took my temp (to make sure I wasn't getting sick.... the old fever/chills combo). My temp was 97.9, so I actually was chilled. I immediately (for other reasons) took my "normal length, normal temperature" shower and when I got out, I was 98.5.... I was amazed that I could raise my body temperature so quickly. (And I also wonder how much it increases if I start out at 98.6.)
I also made sure NOT to drink any of the hot water coming out of the shower head (because I figured that would heat up my mouth extra fast). I started to wonder is it normal to drink shower water? I guess I have no problem doing it... and I had to consciously stop myself... As George Costanza yelled, "It's all pipes!"
After under-blogging this week, I figured I had better dig through the depths of my brain for an unprecidented Saturday blog in order to fill my weekly blog quota. This is what I found...
FRIDAY COOKIE REPORT
Down to a handful of Spritz and most of my Sandies. Bets are 4:1 I'll be out by Tuesday.
SATURDAY EXTENSION CORD REPORT
The fire inspector left Roomie and I nasty notes about using extension cords. They are compleley illegal, even if you only have one devise plugged into the cord. This policy in conjunction with our outlet placement must be some kind of a joke.
EARLY EDITION SUNDAY SUIT REPORT
While I don't wear it as well as the Mannequin, the green corduroy blazer has been a smashing success. Work people comment if I go a week without wearing it.
This has been one of the most stressful weeks I have had in a while:
- My job was about to change in one of three ways and it was finally decided that I would keep my same duties, but only work 35 hours/week.
- I had my first professional comedy show last night. It was probably my worst personal performance, but the audience enjoyed the show and I didn't embarrass myself badly.... so I consider it a success. Only can go up from here. My second show is tonight.
- I haven't had anytime to go out looking for christmas presents, so I decided to shop online. Presents to be arriving in Fargo soon.
- 6" of snow thwarted my commute. Tried to avoid it, but ended up having to trudge through the blanket of snow by foot.
- Roomie's been studying feverously for finals and cutting into my sleep at both ends.
- Wednesday Jokes never got out. Seems pathetic to send now.
I took an hour nap last night and it was wonderful. Today I plan on doing the same.
I love looking at Peppers. Each curve and twist of their skin is as sensual and unique as any one of us. I guess that's why I spent a couple hours photographing them this weekend..... playing with composition... shadow... and trying to draw out their personality.
Then I made fajitas.
A run on sugar cookies left consumers demanding relief from record prices. Gingersnap futures rose 3/4 of a percert--great news for molases farmers worldwide. In the dissapointing pick of the week, Sandies' leveled off despite a vast marketing campain from Russian Tea Cakes to Mexican Wedding Cakes. Name changes aren't going to move those Snow Balls! Peanut Butter Buckeyes and Triple Fudge continue their slow, strong growth, always a good buy. A last minute rally in Spritz left forcasters scratching their heads. Are Spritz the new Sugar Cookies?
I visit the chaple of the blog, but refused to be baptised in Blogianity's holy trinity of posts, reading and comments for fear that committing to anything will reduce my individuality and self-reliance. I love the idea of frequent posts, but my deeply engrained prefectionism (as deep as my love for Airplane I) thrawts me at each mediocre post. (Aren't 31 "least interesting" posts to every 3 "comicly brilliant" posts enough?!)
This week I have been a bundle of anxiety. Change is in the air... you can only hold your breath for so long.... I had a wonderfully bittersweet final ice-cream with a friend who moves soon.... I watched a hillarious-as-always pen-pen-penultimum Arrested Development... I'm making the slow, painful metamorphasis into a professional comedian.... and changes at work are brewing...
Don't worry about your house. Everything ALWAYS works out the way it must... Plans F, G and H are wonderful, but you need to draw the line somewhere. Get Dutch hot cocoa. Read a poem. Listen for the beauty of Wilhelmena's 10 minute smile. That's what life is really about.
Cake it like a man
Mr. L. forced two people to go to lunch with him today so he wouldn't eat alone on his b-day. All alone. His birthday is so close to Thanksgiving, that most people smoosh them together and he doesn't even get a birthday meal from his family. I felt so bad for him, that I decided the only thing that could cheer him up was a real, live clown 4" tall, a helium balloon larger than a buick or a 2'x3' birthday card. The card was my obvious choice because I got to be a verbal cowboy again... (this time, I only held on to the conversation for 3:13.... but that's OK since I had a large-a## card to build!)
The card: nothing other than beautiful! A work of art!
(Inside: Mr. L's head with cake hat and candles.)
It's a snow day.... not officially of course... but I am making it one.... curling up by the warmth of the email server.... watching my cares drift up and away like tiny flakes of individuality. I really want hot cocoa, but I forgots me to buy it.
This is my first post with the new blog engine. It feels nice to only be half a version under underblog.
Been limiting myself to 8 Christmas cookies/day. May sound easy, but extremely difficult. (Yesterday was 9!)
Anyone ever made truffles? I want to make high-end truffles this December.
On Friday, I left the Rainbow Foods with 2 packs of butter, 2 packs of margarine, 1 tub of butter flavored crisco and a half gallon of chocolate milk. The clerk worried for my health, but the fats came in handy for trapping Christie Alley under a cardboard box. Once we had her, we forced her to bake Spritz, Sugar Cookies, Gingersnaps, Sandys ("Russian Tea Cakes") and Buckeyes ("Chocolate Peanut Butter Balls"). Aside from a sifter-less start, the baking went smoothly.
Here's hoping the 6 batches of cookies last me til Thursday-
This holiday weekend I shared a bedroom with my Dad. Snoring should be illegal. It's unholy. It's unnatural. It's ungodly. Even after he taped his mouth shut, the pre-snore snorts were enough to wake me up 4 times a night. I fully stand by my proposition that people should NEVER have to share a bedroom. EVER.
It's amazing to hear people's voices for the first time when you already know them electronically.
This week, I got to talk to two such people and the difference couldn't have been starker. They were both fun, quirky, interesting emailers... but their actual personalities were night and day.
Case 1.
Her voice was richer, fuller and much more polished than I had imagined. Everything sounded very professional and thoughtful. I was impressed not only by her voice, but her wit and intelligence. (Truer words have never been spoken by someone: "Trees don't naturally move on their own." If you think about it, it's quite profound as we run around potting/repotting and decorating with nature).
Case 2.
Very disjointed. Paused. Checked to see that I was following. But never said anything of value. Paused some more. Even mid sentence. Much less interesting. I Wonder. How much time she spent. Reviewing emails before sending. Drove me crazy. Short drive. Short sentences. Short friendship.
Dream Fragment:
I was waiting around my parent's house, looking for someone to take me to a doctor because it was going to happen at any moment.... I could feel it.... Nobody was really around to help, so I went to the bathroom. My water was going to break any moment. I squatted above the toilet because I didn't want it to break on the hard wood floors. Once my water broke, plenty of people came to my aid and I started to give birth. Thankfully, I woke up then so I didn't have an excruciating 8 hours of a birthing dream.... think of how tired I would have been this morning!!
At the grocery store I spotted a new item: Rolo Bites. At last, a bite sized rolo my delicate mouth can handle.
I recognize many people in the department by their purfume as they walk past my door. Today, I have smelled one girl ALL MORNING LONG. Her favorite purfume must be pretty similar to wet, white hallway paint.
I hate [sniveling, whiney, fickle] shoppers like me.
Sunday was my weekly Haul-O-Groceries and after 20 minutes of wandering aimlessly collectin' extras, I finally decided to have CHICKEN for dinner.... but Rainbow was completely sold out! Who runs out of chicken? I put my freezables back into the freezer, abandoned the rest of my cart and checked out with just eggs and motz cheese.
Then I went to Cub and recollected the accoutrements (and chicken that was 50% off!). Plus, they had bags of halloween candy for $1. {aside: I may or may not be in possession of five different types of candy.}
Checking out, I was wow-ed by a fingerprint reader... it seemed so space-age to pay with your pinkie....
Me: That is so cool....
Teller: Or it'll be a huge problem.....
Pessimism. Chickens. Eggs.
I have had some very good meals this week (and I have even dreamed about eating various foods three times this week). Since I know Underblog doesn't like posts about food, I'll spare you everything but the dream about a BBQ Chicken Pizza with garlic sauce, motzerella cheese, jalepeńos and onions. Gosh darn it was delicious.
I worked on my plays in Target for a couple hours this weekend. Was amazed at the variety of people who came. Poor, affluent, male, female, ugly, attractive, young, old. I was just about to write that I didn't see any cool people, but I forgot that I was sitting there writing all of this down.
After a month hiatus (crappy sports ruin my life again), Arrested Development is back for an hour episode tomorrow. Aaaaah. Watching that show makes me want to be a writer. (Just like Steve Martin's Shop Girl inspired me to go to Target to polish off some plays.)
Last night, I drempt that I found my blue pen and fingernail clipper in the washing machine. I was so excited that I finally found them and wondered why I didn't think of looking there earlier. I checked the machine on my way to work, but sadly, it was just a dream....
But not all was lost because I had coffee with Underblog. His visit was worth at least 2 blue pens and a finger nail clipper.
Made cupcakes that looked like spiders. (Pictures tomorrow.) My roommate has NEVER baked ANYTHING in his life. Is this normal? It really took me by surprise. I just assumed it was normal for a single male in his 20's to bake spider cupcakes for Halloween. Never even a boxed brownie mix?!! Sheeesh.
Depressed that I lost my blue pen and finger nail clipper. I've been relying on my backup purple pen, but it isn't the same. Watched the Suze Orman show on Sat and she also lost her pen... talked about it for a couple minutes. Nice to know others are as obsessive about pens as I am. I hate switching pens before a test because the old pen had learned with me.
My friend interrupted a meeting yesterday to answer a strange "612" number on his cell phone.... only to get a telemarker from the cell company pushing new "txt msg-ing" packages. Later that night, we used a different phone, called Tony back at his strange "612" number and then hung up when he answered. It's the little things in life.
Earlier today I tested my "verbal cowboy" skills.... I was able to keep a hardened-anti-phone-er on the tele' for 10 min and 41 sec.... pretty close to a wor'd record...
A third friend kept calling my home phone when his cell would cut out. Every time, I waited for the answering machine to answer before I would pick up. I know how much he hates its chorus...
Believe it or not, Steve isn't at home...
My life has been busy in the not-blogged-about-nether-regions, which is why the content hasn't been as free flowing as it once did. This blog recently hasn't been deserving of the "milk and honey" moniker it once received.
My peanut butter cup would not disengage from the wrapper. Drastic freezing methods had to be taken.... it turns out the peanut butter missed the center of the wrapper and the right third of the cup was solid chocolate.
"I like a simpul life"I oft' write about Danny K, the dentist who works in the Political Science main office. Today I drew a picture of him BY MEMORY.... The resemblence is striking. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so hasty to drop out of the police sketching program.
Hey Reginald, your laundry is ready.
and other spooky stories from Steve's BRAIN
My white laundry was totally sitting in the dryer for 2 days waiting to be folded. So roomie threw it on my chair, where it sat another 2 days waiting to be folded. I ran into a sheep waiting to be folded and then decided to was time to fold everything. I open the dryer door to TUMBLE PRESS my wrinkly, writhery whites..... only to find Nathan's whites sitting in the dryer.
MANy dream clippets the last few nights. Waking up a lot. Dreaming a lot. Eating a lot of cabbage. Getting tatoos. Running Marathons.
Dear Fox,
Your line-up currently features a Thursday night show about young, hip, attractive friends hooking up and hanging out in Orange County. However, I (and many of my 18-26 year old male friends) are unable to relate to their popular, flirtatious lifestyle. Might I be so bold as to suggest keeping the show's name and time, but changing the plot so that it follows the life and times of friends who have come together through Obsessive Compulsive tendencies. Imagine the drama of counting poppy seeds, aligning pillow cushions or washing your hands repeatedly. The best part of my proposal is that you would be able to save money on filming since OC youth are creatures of habit.... allowing you to stretch the same footage over many episodes.
Sincerely,
GenerationBob
Before you continue, what's your favorite snack food: Pretzels, Cheese curls, Potato(e) chips, Tortilla chips or Beef jerky?
I tried a new (?) Halloween Ice-cream flavor last night: COOKIES AND SCREAM.... aaaaaaaaAAAAAH... The oreos were hard and compressed!! Was Kemps so worried about oreal-disintegration that they mixed in 2 parts concrete? I am saddened, but will eat the rest of the carton.... tonight....
The ice-cream lead me to Alan Hirsch's research (last paragraph) and even more research (all paragraphs) that your personality correlates to your favorite ice-cream flavors.... thus, ice-cream can be accurately used to match compatible people. At last! I finally have a mechanism to understand women!
Anyone who's tried it knows that icecream psychology pretty quickly melts into a more general junk food fascination... hence, the opening question....
• Pretzels: you're a flirt, lively and energetic.
• Cheese curls: you maintain a high moral ground.
• Potato(e) chips: you're aggressive, a real go-getter, don't take "no" for an answer.
• Tortilla chips: you're a perfectionist. You need an A+, not an A.
• Beef jerky: you're outgoing and gregarious.
Well???
P.S. I like Cheese curls and DESPISE Pretzels. When forced to choose, I pick Tortillas over Potato(e)s 9 times out of 10. The personality seems to match up for me. Chalk one up for science.
My place as the dominant Steve at work is being called into question by a spryer, smarter, faster Steve a half decade younger than me. I may be able to hold him off for a while, but he cooks, is funny, rather strange and people seem to genuinely like him.
On one hand, I feel the masculinity I never had is being called into question by this self-taught ribbon dancer. But on the other, it’s nice to see all the improvements that were made with the next generation of Steves.
The first, of what will surely become many trials, was a race to create the best elegy for Bob(bi) III, a fish. I leave you with my entry:
To everyone within herring distance:
I write this, not for the halibut,
But to honor a great fish,
A fish who lived a porpoise-driven life,
Walleye floundered in the dark.
A fish who taught me the social moray
Of being less shellfish and thinking of otters.
May Cod have mercy on your sole.
The other night I was standing on a "hip" street corner talking with a new friend. Suddenly, a shiny SUV pulled up, parked in the cross walk and the driver approached us. He had nice, middle-class clothing: non-hole-y jeans and a solid-colour shirt sans collar. He told us his car is on fumes, he forgot his wallet and needs to make it home to Eden Prairie. Could we spare a few dollars?
I looked at my new friend and she (despite her lack of employment) is looking at her wallet, so I felt obligated to look in mine. I didn't want to help (because I have been approached by others trying to make it to Eden Prairie... aka the end of the world...) but I didn't want to appear super-thrifty in front of my new, generous, caring friend. Particularly since this guy (unlike the others) actually had a car to fill with gas.
He ended up getting about $6 from us, asked for our address to return the money (which we denied him), said "God Bless" (a trite line which reeks of compulsive panhandling). With that, he sped off... probably to buy drugs.
Walking back to my car, I wondered why I didn't ask to see his gas gauge. If he would have killed us if we got too close to his car.... why I succame to the pier pressure of donating.... what really happened with the money… what he would have done if we refused him (drove off, or continued looking for help).... what I would have done with those extra dollars... and why I hadn't brought mittens.
It turns out my friend ran out of gas last week, so she felt really bad for him. But we both decided to never fall for that line again.
Naaaaaaaah, Hello? I am N. Erving and I guess I can answer any questions you might be having. My friend slash (/) mentor, Pickie, is on temporary leave so I am filling in for the mean time. I am most familiar with computers, science fiction and nervous twitches, but I can try to tackle some of your tougher relationship issues... not only have I been to first base with a real girl (and further with my pillow), but I am quite familiar, if I do say so myself, with the OC and Sex in the City (when my parents aren't home on a Friday night... shhhhhh..... don't tell.... no, seriously, don't tell.... please....)
N. Erving. Transmission Complete.
Worst:
Last night I learned that many marathon runners finish the race with bleeding nipples from the friction of their shirt. Somehow, running just lost all of its glamour.
Best:
I had a fibrovascular-free banana WITH SPRINKLES today. Each colored sprinkle made me smile because it was made with real chocolate from Holland.
Food Recommendation:
Chipotle Tabasco Sauce. Same fire-eee kick of 'basco with a rich, smokey aroma that tastes like kissing grandma. Great for Fajitas, Spanish Rice or mixing in with your roommate's toothpaste.
A weekend, devoid of satisfaction and all reasonable facsimiles thereof:
The improv show was a success! In the green room before the show, I had a hard time believing I would be on stage for a WHOLE HOUR (that's two family guy episodes!). What would I say? What would I do? Jazz hands are only interesting for the first five minutes. But it felt like I walked on stage and then waved goodbye (something many patrons wished I had done). There was something really natural for me about being a golfer with a hook (a pirate's hook, that is). But I've always fallen for a heart-broken Yetti who offered to buy me a drink.
Tonight, I shall sleep like there's no tomorrow. I was wired until 1:30am. Too much sugar. (Peanut M&Ms, Reses Peanut Butter Cups, 7up w/ grenadine, regular M&Ms, mint chocolate chip ice-cream and a backup bag of Peanut M&Ms in case my blood sugar dropped.)
As a youth, I was completely crushed when Gary Larson stopped making Far Side cartoons. The world as I knew it came to an end and I quit consistently reading the comics. Why was he depriving the world of his wit, charm and humor? I never understood why the King of Comics would gracefully bow out.
Now I do.
New episodes of the Simpsons started last weekend and I have been dually unimpressed. Last night I found myself getting up during the show to make Tacos (a chore I had planned to do after the show ended). American humor has progressed.... Family Guy is the future of animated comedy and it's time for the Simpsons to bow out gracefully.... or be remembered like Gasoline Alley, Circus Peanuts and Tom Arnold.
The best part about having a cold is that you have complete immunity to pick, prod, poke all sections of your face. Usually I have to worry about getting sick if I touch my eye, but for the next 4 days I can go all out.
I tried having an apple for breakfast, but it was meal-y, so I threw out most of it.
Lunch was Quiznos (no Anthony), but I didn't have dessert or pop. I ate the food outside so there was no way to get refills... and I refuse to buy pop without refills... plus, I am trying to quit pop.
The TV dinner I grabbed was low-cal and far from filling. I barely had time to buy a cheap brownie on the way to rehearsal... which also left me yearning for more....
I came home tonight and ate 4 cookies, a handful of raisins, a spoon of hot fudge (intended for ice-cream) and a bag of peanut M&Ms.
So much for trying to cut back on my sugar intake.
I was at the water fountain this morning and as soon as I turned the faucet this stuff started spraying up towards my face. Has anyone had a similar experience?
Actually, I was standing next to the fountain (not even bent-over in drinking fashion...). I fill my glass in the water fountain so my head is rarely near the spigot. So, I turn the handle and a fly comes bursting out of the spigot area like a bat out of hell… straight for my eyes! I freaked out because I thought it was water, but then I realized the difference.
It looks like the beginnings of a good day: a delivery man and I bet on which elevator would appear first.... I won and he told me I was lucky. Then I sold a book on half.com (didn't want to sell it on Amazon because everything was $5 cheaper there). I got a gift basket, which I'll blog about later, and 2 emails from fun friends I don't email enough.
Yesterday, after seeing Batman for the 3rd time, I realized that I love watching movies on the silver screen.... the complete blackness, surround sound, the inability to pause the movie.... it's so much better than DVD...
In the name of the org chart of candy, I tried a Hershey's Take 5... caramel, peanut butter, peanuts and pretzels all enrobed in milk chocolate. It was too much. My mouth couldn't figure out what was happening (but not in a good way... like when you have a nice blend of italian spices on chicken). Thank goodness I kept the wrapper so I don't need to eat a second one.
I had a stylized dream the other night where Michael James Fox was playing Superman. He burst out of a building into the rain, looking for his love.... but she was gone. The scene repeated itself 3 more times with him bursting out as Superman..... but that didn't change the fact: she was gone. Not even Superman has the ability to bring back lost love. Such are the ways of the heart.
Reinforcements have arrived. After being marooned without entertainment for 3-4 weeks, my new co-worker started this week. It’s been too busy to tell if she’ll be interesting during the dry season but she showed hope with a story about wild gypsies that bamboozled her senses, stunned her arm with intoxicating pressure points and then took her wallet. She’s got extremely large shoes to fill, but I have been assured by many that she’s got the large, highly-bunioned feet necessary for the job. Only time will tell.
She made an obscure reference to reading my blog and it was tough to tell if that was a one-time perusal (in hopes of impressing me with knowledge of my life) or if it signifies the first stage of early-onset dementia. Either way: she’s refrained from commenting… it was her birthday today (for which she hung 2 different posters all around our floor)… she sleeps in late when claiming she “needs to go to the bank until 1pm”… and her books will all get wet the first time I water the plants. I am physically incapable of pouring water directly from a crevasse into a pot. Just ask Mayor Eric.
This weekend I was the official wedding photamagrapher for a friend. After accepting the gig, I got very nervous because every how-to manual said "leave wedding photographs to the professionals.... or your friend will hate you forever." I'm guessing a pro could have done a better job, but I took about 300 pictures and odds are one of them is nice enough to hang on the wall.
It also felt very strange being "in charge"... telling people where to stand, how to pose, when to smile.... but it was all fantastic practice for improv, where I need much more work being the commanding task-master than the bumbling, humbled buffoon a la Woody Allen.
I absolutely loved the latest Batman movie. It was an engaging drama that exposed the twisted and troubled psyche of Bruce Wayne. It was the prequel I had always hoped Star Wars I, II or III would be.
I was fascinated by the elaborate plan the villains concocted with the sole hope of making the city tear itself apart.
Sadly, Hollywood does not reflect real life: you don't need months of convoluted scheming to force a city to tear itself apart.... all you need is a flood....
Every week in a small town many hours from here, a friend of mine buys chicken from her local grocery store. As is common in smaller towns, the same gregarious, chicken lady helps her from the other side of the deli counter. Last week, the chicken lady introduced my friend to her young, attractive niece en route to Minneapolis.
“You’ll love living in the Twin Cities! There are so many young, fun people.”
-Like who? I don’t know anyone there.
“My friend, Steve. He’s going to be a comedian.”
-I love comedy CDs… send him by the record store.
“Certainly. [to the chicken lady] Can I get the usual?”
Today, I ventured to the record store and walked up to the chicken lady’s niece (according to the surprisingly accurate physical description). She was very friendly, but her eyes glazed over with mild concern as I detailed her Friday drive to Minneapolis and the infamous stop at the chicken counter. She had absolutely no idea what I was talking about! After 60 seconds of awkward conversation, I said my good-byes to the chicken lady's niece and let a paying customer approach the register.
Her parting comment proved why she, not I, is fit for sales: “It was really nice of you to stop in. Say ‘hi’ again if you’re in the neighborhood.” It was a polite lie, but it made me smile the whole run back to my car.
Dearest Universe Filled With Readers,
Attention Loyal Fans,
Friends, Family, and Countrymen,
Hey Guys
Underblog: due to an X.500 change I have been blogless for a while. But the Uthink people got me quickly back up and running after I finally reported the problem. Expect more frequent posts.
On Thursday, I ate in uptown before comedy bootcamp... and I loved being there. I walked from my car, to a restaurant, to a grocery store (to pick up Lindt's Lindor Truffles) and then to Calhoon Square. Everything was a little more spread out than NYC, but I loved walking from destination to destination.
The supermarket stock guy was really nice. We talked about candy bars and he told me that Ritter bars from Germany are the new big thing. He can't keep them stocked between weekly shipments.
The Lindor Truffles I chose were excellent. They start out with a light coating of oil that softens your fingers and lips. There is a delicate, semi-sweet "skin" (not exoskeleton) that protects the soft, luscious sphere of fudge. As you squeeze the truffle between the roof of your mouth and tongue, you can feel the skin pop as sweet, silky fudge spills everywhere.... saturating your mouth with chocolate.
I want to become a chocolate connoisseur and know good chocolates from waxy, brown globules. This weekend I picked up a bar of Lindt's semi-sweet chocolate and study the snap as I break off a piece.... the smoothness as it melts on my tongue… and the slightly earthy bite of the cocoa bean peaking through sugary milk solids.
This weekend I came home from an event earlier than anticipated..... and I laid down in the middle of my livingroom.... pitch black.... completely silent.... free of all smells.... and simply relaxed for an hour. It was probably the most contented I have been in ages.
Three consecutive weekends of houseguests/traveling can be tiresome.
Last week Underblog and Shermie were kind enough to take me out for dinner under the guise of trying bread pudding. Any dessert whose name starts with a non-sugared item (like bread) makes me a little nervous.... but I have to say that David Famoso whips up some fabulous sweet eats! It certainly doesn't hurt that the entire dish is steeped in a sugary, caramel sauce.... or that it comes with a symmetrical whip-cream/ice-cream spheres.
That night I dreamt that I was grocery shopping and ran into Shermie and Underblog. The eerie thing was we were buying the exact same ingredients because we were both planning on making the identical desserts that night: Scotcheroo Bars, Rice-crispie bars, fudge, cookies, etc. I was so excited that I had finally found someone who thought the way I did about sugar. We were brothers in sugar.
It feels like a long time since I posted. I have spent most of my spare time relaxing and vegging out. The audition was emotionally taxing and the lack of sleep from the rambunctious neighbors was physically taxing. The good news is the audition was successful and I got in! …which now makes me worried that my life will become to focused.... bootcamp is 4 hours/week.
Yesterday, Mr. Blog and I went to Quiznos for their new chicken milano sub (over 2000 hours of development went into it). It still doesn't beat their classic italian, but it's certainly a "sometimes sandwich". It's nice to see that other people invest 2000 hours into something and all they really have to show is another chicken sandwich. (This shared experience with Quiznos adequately sums up my dating life.)
Last night I was thinking about how Yoda and other Jedi Masters become more powerful only through death. My only hope is that Underblog and Shermie become more entertaining by moving further away.... otherwise I'll be really bored at work without their eSpirit keeping me entertained.
My friend cancelled my moving help. Her grandpa wanted to start moving before 7am and it's an hour drive for me to get there. So he called a temp agency and hired four beefy men. (Her grandpa fought in the military... worked as a construction worker... has been every other Village Person... a real man's man.... I think the universe realized that mixing us would be like bathing a cat in olive oil.)
Anyway, that means that I owe the universe a favor on the eve of my big audition announcement. In another words, I will be eating mint chocolate chip ice-cream and crying my eyes out to Annie Hall tomorrow night.
The universe needs to stay in balance.
Today the noisy neighbors willingly agreed to move to a 1st floor unit (without a messier battle between us).
Later today (after feeling a tad guilty about "evicting" them), I got a plea from a friend to help her move this weekend. She knows I am not a helpful person.... she knows that I don't "do things" for friends.... but luckily, this weekend I owed the universe a favor.
And so shall someone be moved as I have forced others to move.
Silver is the most psychologically damaging metal. If you had just tried harder... rehearsed longer... been a little stronger, you would have won gold. Instead, you were the first loser.
Bronze is much better because at least you got something. You weren't that poor schmuck in 4th place that went home empty-handed.
This last week I have been auditioning (for the first time ever) and it's really hard. The first cuts were fine because they were going from 40 to 20 people.... you were just a number. The line had to be drawn in the sand somewhere.
Now, the final cut is from 20 people to 15. It's no longer an ambiguous line... there are no more fleeting masses.... they've stopped promoting the strongest, and are now weeding out the 5 worst people in the room.
Since I can't identify more than two bad people, that means I am the third worst. There is no room for hope this week: I barely have enough energy to stay awake while driving.
I often pray that aliens (or professionally trained psychologists) aren’t observing me. The other night, roomie got very weirded out that I was preparing raw hamburger patties at midnight.
I was glad he was gone today because I found myself blow-drying my ivy plant for 6 minutes. I made sure to close the blinds before I started.
I also am afraid I will not get any work done tomorrow because a blog-less friend introduced me to the human clock. Do not follow this link if you have less than 30 minutes free. I have to agree with him that time is a very fascinating thing.
My coworker "Ron" and Alfred are "really into biking".... I had always imagined Tour de France, cross-state, Gatorade-commercial style biking. I was really surprised to see a video clip of his biking club.
Wanna buy one, they're only 9995 Euros?
Driving to the bus stop today, there was a faint smell of Maple Syrup along Energy Park Drive. I couldn't see where it was coming from.... no syrup dribbles on the pavement.... no crashed syrup trucks in the train yard.... and I'm pretty sure the Jiffy Lube guy replaced my oil with more oil. But ever since then, I have had this strange craving for pancakes.... with blueberries and gobs and gobs of gooey, rich, Maple Syrup.
From about age 12-15, I printed a monthly newsletter to all of my relatives keeping them up to date with my (and my family's) life. It wasn't just news.... it had coupons (which were usually scams) and corny one-liners. This week I started researching me (and writing down interesting stories from my life) because I would like to write memoirs ala David Sedaris or Steve Almond. Here are some interesting quotes from my former newspaper:
My parents signed on a new house today.... within 2 hours, they discovered a nest of fire ants in their front yard, why they are called fire ants, and what it feels like to be robbed in FL.
Bad News: Thieves took everything. Good News: They only took the fridge the developer had recently promised to replace after my parents learned the previous (& brief) owners returned it with pee stains.
My question: Is it time to sell? Many dreams of moving simply externalize a desire for internal change. Other moves (NM) reconnect people with their home-like-place.... which in my parents' case is the great Midwestern prairie.
Every year, I carve a watermelon for the 4th of July. (Ironically, I don’t like fruit.) I had no idea what to make, so I just started carving swirls. It turned out to be the least practical fruit basket ever… you had to remove the decorative top part eat the fruit… but if you lifted it off, the fruit spilled everywhere since it was keeping everything in place. It’s a good thing Susie wasn’t there to see engineering give way to art. (Hey, does anyone know how to play Finlandia?!)
Last night was my first ever improv show and I loved it. I think it went as well as any of us could have hoped... and I was very impressed with not only the quantity, but quality of my friends that showed up: thanks for coming!
Usually I get REALLY nervous before big events (upset stomach for days sometimes).... but I wasn't nervous at all for this show. That's because improv is subjective. Unlike a piano recital, there is right or wrong note to play.... and I loved the rush of having to make stuff up off the top of my head: it reminded me of directing live news.... however, I was paranoid all day long (will the sun wear me out before the performance, will "non-routine" food upset my stomach, are the illuminati somehow funding this event?)
All said and done, I'm going to take their next class and try out for their improv "minor league"....
Seinfeld was interrupted tonight with tornado warnings to my north, so I jumped in my car and drove to the grocery store (but no ominous, spiraling squall lines were to be seen). However, while I was checking expiration dates on carrot bags, the power went out. In those dark, 5 seconds, I plotted my course out of the store (through produce watching out for the cheese display), decided how long I would stay in the dark (2-3 minutes) and wondered if I had any essential groceries to buy (nothing urgent).
After the lights flicked on, everybody smiled at each other for the next 10 minutes because we all shared the experience of worrying in the dark. Nobody mentioned it, but we were bonded and wondered what the others were thinking/doing in the dark.
Shared experiences like this one explain why my kindergarten girlfriend and I failed… our lives diverged completely at first grade and it’s been 20 years since we had a remotely similar experience.
Shared experiences underpin my urge to break from a new group of friends (and people my own age in general): there is nothing we all want to do together.
Shared experiences lurk beneath my urge to study mythology. I want to tap into the fundamental archetypes of every Earthly civilization.
I crashed another neighborhood's block party this weekend (the smell of free sugar hung over Hamline like a dense, moist fog of cotton candy) where I ran into the childhood version of me. He was circling around the adults without interacting with anyone... he was the only child wearing a helmet even though the other kids were playing rougher sports than "independent, low-speed, recreational scootering".... his bottom lip was covered in chocolate... every second or third pass around the block, he would buzz by the refreshments table and steal a cupcake. His interaction with women was limited to one little girl who happened to have a cupcake. The interaction terminated when the cupcake was gone and he realized he would have to go elsewhere for his sugar fix. I have never seen someone eat so much frosting so quickly. To put it frankly, I was proud of the little tyke.
(1) My comedy class went late and I stayed up an hour past my bedtime.
(2) An old college friend (who I haven't seen much this last year) called right before bed to say she is in the third stage of alcoholism. You simply can't tell someone: "Yeah, excuse me... aaah... don't take this the wrong way, but it's my bedtime.... could we maybe talk about your life crippling battle tomorrow?"
(3) Huge, echoing thunderous claps woke me up and kept me awake. I was so mad I had to get up and look out my window to know who I could blame: the local train company or the clouds. Unfortunately, it was God and his clouds, so I guess I'll let this one slide.
For Heather, more Feng Shui tips from the article:
I just got back from “drinks” with a Kindergarten friend I haven’t seen in about 20 years. I always hate trying to gage how everything went and what protocol is necessary when. As far as I’m concerned, she could have been madly in love with me (as most women are when I wear a button-down shirt) or she could have despised every nanosecond she spent with me (like most women who know me better). I am completely unable to differentiate between those two reactions and uninterested in imagining any others.
Before we even agreed on a time, I would have liked a prelunchial agreement stating how the greeting, billing and goodbying would be taken care of.
I love movies like Adaptation because they teach us the importance of change.... one of the hardest and most rewarding things a human will face.
Today at work, I had to combat a technical dilemna and I realized that I would never be able to adaquately solve this problem until I stopped thinking about it "the old way".... As much as I hated the new way, it resolved my issue, was faster and more efficient. Damn.
I saw the latest batman tonight and it was by far my favorite... Christopher Nolan nailed Gotham on the head. Again, a major change of director/cast greatly improved the movie.
I changed the battery in my alarm when I got home.
Tomorrow I vow to repot some plants.
Due to the popularity of “10 Things”, I decided to make a list of stuff that happened to me today. But given my propensity towards pithy posts (and the looming summer malaise), I only wrote 9 things:
Recreating NYC is easier said than done. This weekend I was walking in uptown, which I had always considered “crazy and crowded”… but you would sometimes have to go a whole block before there’d be another restaurant. When viewed as a substitute for NYC, it felt more like the desolation of the Sahara Desert with punk hair mirages.
And today I made hot dogs for dinner… an entrée I wouldn’t have been caught dead eating a month ago. I made sure to get as close to all beef as I could. It was heavenly with mustard, ketchup and raw onions.
Summers are tough because they are too relaxed. I perform well under pressure (loved directing live TV news!) and I don't know what to do with myself when there are no deadlines and projects to do. I guess that's why I have been looking into (1) more summer comedy classes, (2) planning a trip to South America, (3) getting my masters in creative writing and (4) learning how to pilot a plane.
This weekend's highlights included:
I read a lot of "offbeat" news, but every now and again I run across some story so bizarre it makes me wonder. Today a woman tried to smuggle fish into Australia under her skirt. "Customs officers found 51 live tropical fish hidden under her skirt."
Wandering at night
Once busy streets dead quiet
Onerous with sweat
Eighty-six stories
I follow each little coooo
The rat of the sky
Soft droplets reflect
Steel and glass in a pool of
Water and urine
Five hundred people
go to little italy
to eat spaghetti
Downtown Manhattan
Cathedrals built to commerce
Block most of the sky
When I used to go scuba diving, it was important to return slowly to the surface and stop at 15 feet (below the surface) for 3 minutes. This allowed your body to re-adjust so you didn't die from air bubbles in your body or too much nitrogen in your tissue. I feel a similar safeguard is necessary for anyone leaving New York (unless it somehow involves a day in Jersey).
I got home last night at 11pm and my apartment was so large, quiet, dark and uncrowded. Just like that, all of the stimulation was gone. As much as I had complained about the hectic pace of NYC, there is a part of me that really misses it.
En route to "Two Boots Pizza" (Underblog's suggestion), I got lost in Little Italy and ended up having a fabulous italian meal. They close Mulberry St to traffic every weekend and it feels like you are on the streets of italy. People everywhere... pasta everywhere... more cannolli than you can find in the entirety of ND. My NY friend commented on how this evening felt like a little vacation for him. After dinner and dessert, we walked one block over and were suddenly in NY. Perhaps tomorrow i will actually make it to Two Boots-- third time's a charm....
If I could walk 10,000 miles, I would do it today while the sun is shining and the weather warm. I took about 100 digital pics today as I wandered across the Brooklyn Bridge and all the way down central park from the Jackie Onassis resevour, through the great field (boring) into the ramble (the best) and ending up at the lake (a close second). The ramble was my fav because it reminded me of the fjord land of Norway. This evening I wandered around Union Square since I hadn't done enough walking earlier. I miss public water fountains and bathrooms.... I think I got a little dehydrated.
There was a group of rollerblading 9-year-old school kids in matching plaid that stopped for water near my bench. After one drink, a little girl screamed, "Yuck. It has an aftertaste of Hobo pee!" Do people still use the word "Hobo"?
I have 6:36 to type this. Friend's computer died horrible death.... to bad there is noone around to fix it. Bought 10 min fro $2.50. Most gone checking my email.
Yesterday, I waited in line for about 4 hours for Spamalot tickets. SPAMTASTIC!!! It was a wonderfully fun show. I loved it and it was worth the wait. I lost my train of thought because a fire truck just drove by, got stuck in traffic near my ear and honked for 30 seconds. 4.19 Better save once so I at least get somehting posted. It was a fun, fun show... "setting musical theatre back 1000 years." Tim Curry stole the show. There were no witches (too expensive). I ate a restaurant under a large nose today ("nobody nose italitan like we know italitan"). On my way out I touched a sculptuer of a female butt as the sign insisted for good luck. The bronzed butt poke paid off and I got front row, center, mezzanine seats. Couldn't have asked for better. Thus ends my trip posts unless his computer gets fixed.
Went to the trade center rubble today. On one hand, it was amazing how big of a space was destroyed. On the other, it's amazing how small of a space has lead to such huge international missions. Space is relative.
Found my dream condo in Battery Park City, so I went in so I could get an apartment tour if they would give me one. The building was actually a Ritz Carlton. They've got good taste. At least it wasn't an old people's home... all my dream buildings in MSP and ABR have housed the elderly.
Ate a burger with Mango Pepper sauce. Very Tasty. I love eating dinner at 9:30pm. Go Blue 9 Burgers!
Today I went to Moma... during the first few floors I was contemplating what the nice weather in central park would be like, but I turned the corner and ran into the Persistance of Memory by Dali... a personal favorite. I was captivated and it was really powerful in person. It was smaller than I thought it would be (8.5x11ish) and I got in trouble for looking too long and too close... so I stopped by it again on my way out.... just as long and just as close. Similarly Starry Night by Van Gogh was AMAZING. I generally don't like it because you see it everywhere from coffee mugs to fuzzy toilet covers... but it's really powerful in person. Kudos to those artists and Moma, a top drawer museum.
This evening I went to Dylan's Candy Bar, a 2 story candy store and bought every flavor of gummy bear I have never tried. I also bought one of every chocolate covered ______ I hadn't tried. None of them made the subway trip home.
Finally, a Peanut Butter Frozen Hot Chocolate from Serendipity. I love the movie and couldn't resist going despite warnings of commercialism and success run amock. AMOCK I SAY! The drink was like a peanut butter cup with straw. Heavenly and sugary. I sipped the drink staring at all the beautiful couples who were obviously there because they girl loved the movie and what it stood for (more than the guy she was with). As for me, I was also there reminscing my first love... each and every sip of her....
Brunch in NYC is a scam. My friend took me to brunch (at the Life Cafe... From Rent) after 1pm and the menu claimed brunch went until 4:30pm. I'm sorry, but after 12pm, you lose all right to use the "br" of breakfast. 1pm is clearly lunch--4:30pm borders on early supper or at least lupper... just ask my grandparents... they have dinner at 4...
As the plane started its descent, I could see lots of lights off in the distance and I got really excited until I realized those lights were New Jersey.
I have never seen so many lights before. New York is great... even that first strong wiff of BO.
Today was the happiest day of a young boy's life: Arrested Development will be picked up for a third season. Life is looking up.
I woke up this morning in the deadly arms of V.E. .... eyes darting around the room.... unable to breathe… looking for my next hit…
It started simple, like most addictions. I religiously watched Arrested Development and made a copy of each episode so I could religiously watch them again. But I needed a bigger hit, so I obsessed over a full length movie... singing theme songs to myself for a month straight. Now, I have progressed even further and can't stop myself from video editing. I've been working for 2 weeks straight, have a list of 5 people to call back, 2 unheard voicemails, a trip that's going unplanned and a co-worker who's been ignored all week.
Thus, I decided I must stop working on this video! I will only allow myself to:
...that way, I will finally be done… so I can devote myself to making the trailer and blooper reel!!
A: [laughter] Oh, no, no.... I actually wash them in the dishwasher twice a week with Lemony Cascade. Any dishsoap will work, but I like the hint of lemon. (I used to put a little Irish Spring in my step, but now believe Cascade is superior). My roommate is more tradition and prefers the handwashing method.
Today I woke up and decided to blog about blogging. As of 09:13AM, the only interesting thing that happened to me was that I sat down on my blue, stained office chair, swiveled towards my computer, put the keyboard on my green pants and started blogging. It's unknown when I will stop blogging, but probably within one paragraph since I don't like reading posts more than 212 words long. I've got better things to do with my time like read CNN, stare blankly at my monitor or safely watch traffic gum-up from my tall, vertical window--a 12th floor slit into the reality which consumes me.
This next week I may be a little quieter (proving that there is a God to answer all of your prayers).... or my posts will be of lesser quality (yes, that is still possible).
Over 3 years ago, I started making a documentary about undergarments in the style of Christopher Guest. I edited the video together last summer and it was really boring to watch, so I never showed it to anyone. The script and my production notes have been sitting on my desk ever since then... waiting for some kind of miracle fix.
Saturday, I decided enough = enough, so I printed out a new copy of the script and cut, rearranged and revised. Today, I started re-editing the movie with the hope of a New York City premiere when I visit later this summer.... but I'll just be glad to be done with the project. After writing the initial script, I went to goodwill and bought all the old underwear I could find to use as props. I got a strange, perverted look from the clerk, but I didn't think saying "it's for a movie" would help my cause. If I don’t finish, all that humiliation was for naught.
In honor of Underblog's extremely boring dream, I share my dream from last night....
I was in a big city and wanted to try a fancy, new restaurant so I put my name on the list. There were some cute girls waiting, many families of four dressed to the nines, a couple of older gentlemen in brown plaid jackets. I nodded at a few of them, but never spoke. I waited for a few hours even after everyone around me had been seated. I decided I could wait for 5 hours and if I wasn't served by then, I would simply go home (and to bed) without dinner.
While eavesdropping, I heard some partying college kids mention the second half of a map their friends were bringing here tonight. When combined, the map lead to a great hall with records on everything. I got very excited because getting to this hall would be like meeting God.... then my alarm rang. Why do we need to work so early in the morning? I only have time to dream the boring prologue (which is probably related to Waiting For Godot, a personal favorite).
Last night was quite a night.... I pretended to ride a pony around the room... pantomimed making pancakes.... yelled at the top of my lungs.... said "bunny-bunny-bunny" (etc) as fast as I could before passing that torch to another willing shmuck.... took Franklin Ave west instead of I94 because the rain was making traffic go about 15 mph..... discovered free parking near Calhoon square with a 4 block walk.... stood in silence for one minute while a group of people studied me.... played catch with an imaginary ball and still dropped it twice....
Last time I go to Underblog's house for dinner! (8 more Improv Comedy classes until our big performance for friends and family.)
Last week I signed up for a tracking service to see who stumbles upon my blog and why.... These were some of the google searches that brought people to my page....
Or perhaps I'll contiue writing about constipated rhinos trapped on a spastic bus.... you gotta stick with what you know....
I've got a friend who is accidently dating someone. She keeps asking him to do things and he agrees because he is suffering from an excuse drought. Even worse, he pays because he doesn't want to appear like George on Seinfeld who micro-manage the bill the until everyone has paid the exact number of pennies they owe.
He also complains profusely about the frosted flakes he recently acquired. They are too sweet considering how much sugar-y juice he starts his day with (on the side, not on top of the flakes). He doesn't want to eat them any more, but feels bad throwing away the new box of cereal.
I suggested having the girlfriend sleep over until she has eaten all of the frosted flakes.
En route to ND, I stopped at a rural rest-stop. The toilets, sinks, hand-dryers, etc were all controlled with motion sensors... no need for paper towel. Near the door to leave the restroom was a large, blue garbage receptacle with bold, black lettering: OFFICE PAPER ONLY.
That begs the question: Who is at a rest-stop and suddenly needs to recycle office paper? Why don't they put signs along the highway saying, "This exit... camping, food, recyclable papers.... next recycling bin 60 miles..."
My roommate can't for the life of him figure out why he never gets his Bankruptcy Law reading done before class.... I ran some numbers and there appears to be an inverse relationship between the number of minutes he spends reading Bankruptcy Law and the number of minutes he indulges himself with the wild and crazy antics of Don Knotts.
Recently, Underblog tried to pass off these imitation Oreos for the real thing. What kind of monster does he think I am? The chalky black powder has obviously inferior milk-holding-capacities. And the gross frisbee of sugar-lard had an off-mint after taste. As he likes to say, "I am completely abhorred by this!!!!"
P.S. Thanks to Underblog for the title of this entry... what he lacks in oral hygiene he makes up for in wit... sometimes...
P.P.S. We've been working on an organizational chart of candy. Hopefully it will be available before the May Day candy rush....
I love certificates of completion. If I can take a test in something, get certified and then drop it like a fat girl with the plague.... I will! Throughout my life I have acquired many computer certifications, amateur radio certifications, scuba diving certifications, CPR certifications, swimming certifications and now I am looking at a 10 week improv comedy class, which would end, of course, with a certificate of completion.
Blogs, unlike books, never have a completion.... which is why I think I have a hard time posting. I did very well posting until I had more comments than Underblog's old site.... which in a way was a certificate of completion. Once I had as many comments as him, I knew I could make it in the blog world if I wanted to.
As for my excuse, I don't really have a good one. The best synopsis I can provide is that other projects have been draining more emotional energy than I have. One of many examples was a big screenwriting assignment. We had to pitch a proposal for the script we want to write the rest of the semester. It was only a 2 page assignment, but it would be the outline for everything I do the next 2 months.... not much pressure there!
Last night on the bus, I saw someone who had perfectly blended Eric's and my style.... with devistating results. He started with a white shirt (blue ringer-Eric) topped with a blue hoodie(me). That was all fine and dandy I noticed the blue suit coat (Eric) engulfing the blue hoodie. He had kahki pants (me) and an over-one-shoulder bag (Eric). Poor shmuck.
Today I stumbled upon the biggest damn turd I've ever seen. It peaked above the water a good 3 inches and sat down into the bowels of porcelain at least 5 inches. Its girth surpassed a D battery. It was the kind of turd you wanted to show a friend and wonder in awe about what kinds of food can produce such a beast. The last time I saw such a marvel, my freshman roommate was pulling me into the dorm bathroom, where we stood in silent deference more deafening than the strains of defecation that gave birth to Sergeant Firelog.
I may have lost the heart and soul of who I am. If there is one feature of me that is even more prevalent than my blue hoodie, it’s my black and white cow scarf. (I say “more prevalent than the hoodie” because it gets too warm in the summer to wear a sweatshirt everday!!!) Yesteryday, as I was rushing to the bus, I realized that the cow scarf had gone a.w.o.l.. I had until the elevator dinged to decide if I was going back to the office to form a search party or risk losing my bovine neck warmer forever. Since I had to go to my boss’ house after work to fix his computer, I decided to scurry down to the bus… and pray that Friday morning would bring the safe return of my cow scarf… and thankfully it did. Now I can continue to hear trite jokes about Gateway computers and how my clothing matches their boxes. What a great day.
I spent 2 hours on Monday trying on Jeans.... I started with 3 pairs to get a rough idea of size, and then the search ballooned into roughly 12-18 pairs of loose, relaxed, original, boot, super boot and sneaker cut jeans. I ended up with boot cut jeans (because they can be worn low or at your waist.... unlike sneaker cut jeans).... but I haven't worn them yet because I am not sure I want to keep them.
I wear the same pants for 3 or 4 (or sometimes 5) days straight because I am too lazy to take my wallet out of my pocket and put it into another pair of pants. It's not just the wallet--that might be do-able by itself--but the wallet, fingernail clipper, flash drive and pen are just too much work to move. I am fatigued even typing about all that work.... so that is why I was surprised to see that out of 1031 blogs, I have the 31st most commented on blog. Either everyone else at the U has completely fallen into the clutches of apathy or I have to thank Eric's entire family of go-getters for their diligent work. Word by word, they have probably typed more for Generation Bob than I have. I've been meaning to post this thank you for a few days, but last night I was too lazy to take more pictures of my apartment.... so it was either this or stealing some ideas from Underblog.
To adapt a line from Jack Prelutsky....
"Breakfast Oh Breakfast, I hate you. You stink.
I wish I could wash you away in the sink."
What's the deal with breakfast anyway? They say it's the most important meal of the day. But I have been avoiding it as much as possible and look how great I turned out. I have always avoided breakfast foods.... cereal, pancakes, waffles, toast, grapefruit halved with a gentle sprinkle of sugar, etc.... not only do these foods bite, but so does the dinnerware.... I don't like bowls (and pride myself in going through college for the most part without ever using a bowl or spoon)….. and don't even get me started on juice glasses..... in fact, the only good thing to come out of breakfast is BACON!! BACON!! BACON!!
As a kid, I usually made my own breakfast, so I would eat whatever we had left over from the night before (pizza, lasagna, chicken, hamburger).... or pie.... in Aberdeen, I had to 2 chocolate chip cookies for breakfast every morning. My sister has a similar disorder... in 3rd grade, the teacher dismissed them for lunch one day by the food they ate.... ("Everyone who had waffles can go now...." I think they use the same technique in police line-ups....) The teacher kept trying to guess until everyone had left, but somehow she forgot the ever-popular “hotdogs and potatoe chips dipped in ketchup” which my sister had consumed.
I think the reason I hate breakfast is that you have to be up before 11am to have it. I loath the morning with every fiber in your Grapenuts.... so when I am forced to get up, I eat as little as possible to tide me over until I can eat lunch.... which I consider the start to my day.
Since I got my new job, I have been searching for a good breakfast.... 4 Double Stuffed Oreos.... 1 Granola Bar.... 1/3 cup Trail Mix.... 6 oz Yogurt... A Banana (once).... and have finally settled on Pepperjack Cheese with a handful of peanuts. It gives me a protein kick.... I like the heat of the cheese.... and spicy foods have been shown to reduce cancer (in a recent study).
I personally thought this ought to be posted as a comment in my prior entry, but Eric insisted that this is a new and exciting topic. It's obvious that he doesn't get out much if he thinks a mantle is exciting, but without further ado..... my mantle.....
I have a 3’x2’ frame I have been moving with me the last 3 years even though it had no picture in it. When my roommate moved out a few weeks ago, I decided it was time to fill the frame (particularly since the area above the fireplace looked bare with only nail holes—a sad reminder of the floral print and nails that used to occupy the space). So I went to allposters.com and bought a 3’x2’ print. It happened to be printed in England which meant it was not only jetlagged but 1 inch too tall and 1 inch not-wide-enough, a surprising turn of events since the English are usually stout and portly. I tried a couple different ways of measuring, but there was no way the poster was going in the frame without a fight.
After surveying my options, a matte seemed like the best solution…. but making mattes is a skill I possess little of, unlike sending mail to strangers. Thankfully, I had a warped, bubbled, splotchy, water-stained old matte board that came with the forsaken frame. I got out my trusty exact-o knife (after rethinking the steak knife idea) and the matte was cut; despite it’s wobbly, uneven and jagged edges, it fit. Best of all, I only dropped the exact-o knife through the print once, a slight gaff that was easily patched up with a little bit of black sharpie.
When I had the entire ensemble assembled, I hated the gold frame. My apartment is silver and black. This was gold. Yuck! My mom had given me a can of blue spray paint from the basement for a different project months ago, so I decided this frame would be blue (a deep navy that seems more like a black, in the low romantic lighting I usually use to ironically watch full house alone.) Unfortunately, the can was clogged, so I used a tack and nail to get the paint flowing again. It wasn’t working, so I read the instructions on the back of the can, which said, “do not use a needle to unclog the paint can.” What kind of fool would use a needle? Figuring that persistence was the key, I continued to prod at the can with the veracity of a cockroach until the nozzle was free flowing and blue paint was all over my hands.
The frame got painted, my roommate complained about the paint smell in the apartment (the can also said, “do not use if under 50 degrees”, so I decided to do this project in doors), and I ended up getting blue paint on everything. After it dried, little flakes of blue would rub off on everything… handles to the refrigerator, scratch marks on my face, my signed oil portrait of Siegfried and Roy… if you have ever watched Arrested Development (the greatest show on TV), there is a character who was part of the blue man group with similar problems to me. I also thank AD for the glorious title to this blog entry, since I find it a matter of personal integrity to always give credit where credit is due.
But the important thing now is that the picture is done. The matte is on, the holes are patched, the frame matches the room…. it’s some of the shabbiest work I have ever done for non-educational purposes, but it’s done.
This is one of the first years I have ever had MLK day off and I really didn’t know how to celebrate. If it’s one thing I am good at, it’s knowing what party to apply to what situation… but I was drawing a blank. Last year I baked a chocolate and white marble cake, but nobody noticed my diversity since I coated the chocolate side with a fudgy frosting and the white half of the cake with vanilla—all that careful pouring of the batter for nothing! So this year I went shopping… I figure black, white, red or yellow we all have green at our core. It turned out to be a very productive day because I bought my first button-down shirt. That night I finally slept well knowing that my closet of t-shirts had been successfully integrated with button-downs.
Dear Spirit of a Generation,
I am now a happy owner of my own blog after mentally being pushed off a cliff by a friend's blog: today he thought he would write about a recent trip to Cabellas and describe all of the stuffed animals. I've got no problem with that.... everyone loves animals with fake eyes glued in their heads... but he failed to even suggest all of the wonderful ways the animals could be arranged in little squirrel tea parties, rabbits at the ice-capades, lemurs working the drive through at McDonals, or penguins folding pillow cases at a Chinese Laundromat. There comes a time when you can sit back no longer and watch all the e-injustices facing modern man. Today was that day and I am proud to say I stepped up to that plate and took a thimble shot of a squirrel's espresso--that bittersweet flavor of freedom.
Hellow and welcome to my extended entry. This is a place where I extend upon my entries.... which is something I personally feel quite shy and dirty talking about.
