September 2004 Archives

i think that today i will tell you a little story.

who wants to hear a story? gather round. get some milk and graham crackers.

i'll, uh, think of a story.

i been filling out these stoopid doctors forms since the eighties. you hand them your insurance card (you do have insurance, right?) and then they make you write it all out again in your completely unreadable handwriting.

except the in case of emergency part. that's not on your insurance card.

my father used to always joke that the correct thing to write in that blank was "a doctor." hah hah.

in the past month i've been to two new doctors (not as bad as it sounds) and had to fill out two of those forms. for the first time since i've started filling them out i've put in someone who's last name isn't kushner.

i will admit to feeling a bit despondent about the presidential election.

regardless of what the man is actually like, my impressions of kerry are as follows:

he's lame
he has no real ideas
he lacks charisma

that's pretty crappy since i read left-leaning periodicals, don't watch tv news, and am inclined to feed gwb to rabid stoats.

if i feel that way, and i'm pro-kerry, what about all those swing voters?

"That's the change I would like to see — that the news media take a more active role in arbitrating, in mediating, in credibility. The way I've always looked at it is, politicians are — When you go to a zoo and you see a monkey throwing its shit, you can't get mad. That's what monkeys do. But you want the media at some point to go, "No! Bad monkey!" And that's really the direction that it should be going in. Not for Republican desires or Democrat desires but for truth."

that jon stewart. he's pretty damn right-on. if only i got cable...

i'm also pretty into stereogum right now. it's a bit of a brittney fest, but i am amused. plus it has this blog entry title, which may be the best ever:

"And My Sister Likes to Fondle Swiftboat Veterans"

i'm almost in shock. walking this production assistant to the mail room he says from behind me, in connection with absolutely nothing, "blah, blah, blah especially if you're a lego maniac."

i cringe.

then he says "i couldn't help myself" and starts to softly sing, "zack, zack, he's a lego maniac."

*shudder*

how did i fall back into the third grade like that? i should have introduced him to leila so he could sing the clapton song to her. or slammed his head in the copier. either way.

is it just me or is every single "terrorist" and "spy" arrested in the past three years now being quietly released with the charges dropped?

last night i was kicked out of the house.

see, there was a "women's group" meeting there and i am not a "women."

so i decided to "not be a jerk" and go to the "movies" with "friends."

i've never quite understood the whole women's group thing. i mean, i understand wanting to hang out with the boys, and i understand needing to have close friends who are male, but i can't really picture wanting to have a group of men with whom i do manly things and talk about manly stuff. or i can't picture wanting to do that regularly.

i prefer to do that with a mixed group of men and women and undecided.

man, it's been busy today. so many little itty-bitty details to take care of!

but i took a half hour off to sit in the terrace (behind and above the orchestra) to watch the rehearsal of Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. and now that i've eaten some lunch i'm feeling better.

my doctor called me today and told me to gain weight. i am now accepting all donations of pie, butter, fried chicken, and bacon for the Fat Me Up campaign.

just take a moment and picture it. me. fat.
or maybe just not so damned skinny.

yeah. i can't do it either.

despite my heartiest wishes and sincerest attempts, today is not saturday.

today is tuesday.

i was reading an essay about tonga and giant clams. i think if i was in tonga counting the giant clams i would not be so woeful that it was tuesday and not saturday.

tuesday, i posit, is a state of mind and, what's more, it is a day of the week.

ask not what your tuesday can do for you, but what you can do on a tuesday.

right now, the answer to that is work. i can work on a tuesday. and this brings to mind the sage advice Evelle delivered to one H.I. McDonnough: "Oh H.I., you're young and you got your health. What you want with a job?"

now, with the force of our collective wills, let us make this saturday.

one. two. GO!

this morning, i read the NYT online, as usual, and it hits me.

it's stupid time again!

with the presidential election in six weeks there is no hope for anything resembling intelligence in the news. nope. we are going to see article after article about whether or not george w. bush showed up for national guard service.

as if that matters AT ALL.

madhavi is working in a junior high school now.

the other day she had to teach the kids how to use a ruler.

now, i know, sometimes we just don't have contact with certain things, certain concepts and grow up not knowing how to swim (like my jamaican landlord) or how to set up a wireless network (me) or how to sing the lyrics to Suffragette City. (sean, it's "This mellow fat chick just put my spine out of place" NOT "The smell of that chick just put my spine out of place" although granted, your lyrics are better.)

but a ruler?

i'm about to book a ticket to fly to vancouver. my friends Susie (N.Ire) and Patrick (UK) are going to be there on their way home from busking across Alaska.

yep. busking across Alaska. word is Susie walked up to the main stage at the Alaska State Fair and asked the dude if she could go up and sing.

they loved her.

i can tell it's busy here at the place of work because it's after 2:00 and i just realized i haven't even THOUGHT about blogging today.

goddamn work.

dinner last night was swell. our landlords made us chocolate martinis and we got the full tour of their place which somehow is three levels.

three levels!

we thought it was just one and a half, but nope. it's hugantic. they have a hot tub and a gym and wine celler and a garden and absolutely no fear of strong colors.

just wee bit jealous over here. although the martinis helped. and the bananas foster. and the apple salad.

i am now trained to stick myself with needles.

you are SO jealous! i know, i know. you've been sitting around at work thinking, damn. if only i was properly trained to stick myself with needles, then i could go around playing Dr. Quinn; Medicine Ball. i am wise to you.

my adventure started when i failed to be able to bend my right index finger for a month. at first, i just figured i'd wailed it playing punk rock kickball. but then it didn't get better so i performed this magical new operation called "going to the doctor."

okay, so here's the good and the bad:

my baby done left me.

i seem to recall waking up at 3:30 and hearing her rustle about some, but then i awoke again at 7:30 and she was gone. not even a note! (except for the really foxy note on the counter).

i'm both sad she's gone and kinda excited to have a few days to settle into our new place on my own. you know. adjustificate. and watch the dogificate.

and pick the dogificate up in a plastic bag.

today is Gala day. you know what that means, right?!

yep! free booze! and some classical music. the season is starting again! the summer is over! things will be insane! wheee!

this will be my second full season with the symphony. my second gala. let's hope this year they don't pull the fire alarm again, hah hah! boy. that sucked.

i'm reading another book by Redmond O'Hanlon. this one is called Into the Heart of Borneo. it's not as good as No Mercy so far, but it is cooler because i've been where he's going.

right now in booklandia, he's in Kapit. i've been to Kapit. just like Redso i flew into Kuching and took the ferry across the bay to Sibu and then the boat down the Batang Rajang to Kapit where i applied for my up-river travel permit. me and helen. helen and me. we went all the way to Belaga. there, the chief of the longhouse wanted to take me hunting for wild pigs with a blowgun.

i'm tempted to go back.

i love it when something makes me break out laughing at work just as my boss is walking by scowling.

this website is one of my new favorites. it's called Songs to Wear Pants To and chicken turned me on to it.

his theme song is pretty good, too.

now i need to go think up a good song for him to make up. time's a wasting.

boy. is that statement ever true.

it is officially busy here again.

everybody's back from summer vacation and riding my ass. actually, there is very little ass-riding (at the office). here, we prefer the term "mule riding."

as in, if you don't schedule an LOC meeting choppity-chop there will be mules to ride!

all this very important discourse reminds me of something i never thought of before. hell to pay. what does that really mean? if you don't get your fingers out of the fig torte there will be hell to pay!

how much does one pay hell? do they take dollars or just souls? are fig tortes really worth your soul? what happens to you if you give up your soul? all these important questions will be answered very very soon in a book i will not write.