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10/31/00 happy halloween, pumpkins! I spent a goodly portion of this evening handing out Christmas candy to trick-o-treaters. (by the time josh and I got to Rite Aid there was no Halloween candy left...) It was fun.
Bringing you up speed: Yesterday I learned that someone entered my name in some sort of raffle at an Outback Steak House. I figured this out because I won the raffle. I have won something like a 50 dollar gift certificate to any store in the related shopping mall and a 40 dollar gift certificate to the steak house itself. I cant say that I have ever given any thought to eating at an Outback Steak House, but if I can eat for free I suppose its worth my consideration. I have no idea who entered me in this thing. Come forward and you can be my dinner date! Last night I decided to rent the movie Legend. I hadn't seen it since I was 8 or something. I wanted to see if it was any good. I had strange and unsubstantiated memories of the movie. Basically I think I wanted to see if there was as much naked Tom Cruise thigh as I remembered. My conclusions regarding this move: this is just Ridley Scott's attempt of an hour and a half long Kate Bush video, which in itself is not such a bad thing, but with music by Tangerine Dream not the afore mentioned diva and that IS a bad thing. I add Legend to a body of evidence (also in this class such movies as Dante´s Inferno [Ken Russel], Picnic at Hanging Rock [Peter Weir] and many others titles by equally well known directors) which clearly shows that that american moviegoers now demand more cohesion in plot and dialog then they used to. Now, I didn't say better plots and dialog, I merely said easier to follow. (Please note, this theory was most recently challenged by the minimal success of Polanski's the Ninth Gate... shudder). And so all of this has me wondering if we have just gotten more discerning or more dull-witted. I really cant tell. (For the record there were many more Tom Cruise thigh shots then I remembered. I think as a child you block these things out.) And finally, let it be noted that gin is as good a cough suppressant as any. |
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10/25/00 As my cold slowly gets better (key word here is "slowly") I can now focus my anticipations on bigger and bawdier things. This Friday Pine is hosting a grande Halloween ball, actually its an "intergalactic office party" (better not to ask). I missed their bash last year and came to sorely regret it. I heard tale of this shindig for months afterwards. The antics, the costumes, the zombies... Saturday is my anniversary and I am throwing the Third Annual St. Jude's Stroke-off Extravaganza. In case you are wondering about the title, Saturday the 28th is indeed St. Jude's day. And as far as the Stroke-off part, well that should be self explanatory. Oh and St. Jude, for all you heathens out there, happens to be the patron saint of hopeless causes and in the case of a celebration of my brain, what could be more apropos? I realized today that daylight savings time is that night which happily means we get another whole hour to eat, drink, and be merry. yay. So suffice to say I am looking forward to this weekend a big bad way. I have given my flu ridden body full notice that it has until Friday after noon to shape up cause I am not taking care of or nurse myself past 10pm that evening. For the sake of all involved, it better heed my warnings cause nothing is gonna stop me form having the time of my life. Well, expect maybe another stroke... And finally, another cause for celebration, in one drop in a mail box today I eradicated all of my credit card dept. I R U L E. |
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10/21/00 I am so bored that I am gonna tell you alllll about my night last night, in ridiculous painful detail: So as you know, I am sick. For the better part of three days I was in a pretty constant state: a little achy, a little stuffy. But then last night around 8pm as I was preparing to leave the office, it all came down on me: cough, sore throat, achy back and head, fever... you know the drill. In a daze I packed up, locked up, was out of the building and at the bus stop where I waited with my head in my hands, moaning for over a half an hour. Of course when the bus finally arrives it is packed. I stand for 3/4 of my ride and by the time I am able to sit down I am completely miserable and coughing so violently that the lady next to me slides over in her seat as far away from me as she can get. By 9pm I am off the bus. The walk home is quick enough. Keeping my body moving seems to keep my brain off of the ache. I am walking down Hazel, approaching my house and I begin to dig around in my bag for my keys. By the time I have hit the front steps I begin to panic. I search my bag rather thoroughly, nothing. I ring the bell, nothing. I dump the contents of my bag on to the ground for my final search, nothing, I ring the door bell again.... The cats are in the front window quizzically staring back out at me. They ignore my instructions. This only serves to make me more dejected and frustrated. I attempt to be as pragmatic as possible given my distressed state. I try to come up with a plan, but every reasonable course of action involves standing up way longer then is acceptable. Now, I have been locked out plenty of times before and under some admittedly horrendous circumstances, but it was at this moment- pitiful, feverish, and tired, that I came the closest I have ever been to simply giving up and lying down right there on the porch to sleep. After about a 30 seconds of a pros/cons argument I thankfully convinced myself that such action would not do very much to help my cough. Perhaps, you know... even make it worse. So, the Plan. I begin the walk to Jim and Becky's. The entire time I am thinking about my lost keys. I have a distinct memory of fumbling with them as I locked the office door and that's it really it. I become convinced that 1) I lost them on the bus (a permanent irrational fear of mine) or 2) left them dangling in the lock of the office door. My head is filled with visions of stolen computers. I arrive at Jim and Becky's and cry about my plight. They are fabulously sympathetic and offer me a solace, a bed, and pain relievers, but I am at this point possessed with the idea of my missing keys and also as most sick people, the notion of collapsing into my own bed for that much needed coma. First I check the phone book. If I can find the number to the front desk of my building I can ask them to go up and check for my keys. The main problem is I am not entirely sure what my office building is called, so no luck there. I then break down and call Andrew, perhaps he has the number. nope. I then try information twice. The first time I am given a completely incorrect number. The second time I speak with the most foul tempered operator I have ever had the displeasure of communicating with. Our conversation ended abruptly with "there is no such listing" click. I call Andrew back and explain the situation fully. He sighs and agrees to walk over to the building to look for my keys. I am sick, an idiot and a jerk. It's true. Now to deal with my second desire: Home. Bed. I call Leah. She answers her cell and I learn, as luck would have it, she is across the street having dining with the surrealists. As I am taking my leave, Becky kindly offer to give me a ride home. Yes! We grab Leah's keys, hop in the car and I sigh with relief as I will within minutes be in bed. We reach my block and Becky turns and asks if I have any cold/flu medication. No, but that's fine I didn't expect to have any I am just going to go straight to sleep. "But what if you can't sleep?" she asks and I then admit that having some NyQuil would do me good. just in case. We drive straight pass my house (and my bed) and head for the nearest drug store which is of course... closed. Off to the next nearest, closed. The ThriftWay pharmacy, closed. The rite aid at 48th, closed. Mind you, none of these stores are too far from one another, but they are all separated by one way streets so navigating between them takes twice as long as it should. Finally after doubling back down Chestnut street for the second or third time, we head about 6 more block out of our way to reach the campus CVS. Its open. After a annoyingly long wait in line, I am purchase all of the over the counter drugs that will insure a good night sleep and some proper breathing through my nose. 45 minutes after our trek began, I am home. The phone is ringing as I enter the house. Its Andrew- He has found my keys. They were in the restroom. Its then and only then that I remember the fatal moment. During one of the evenings first cursed affairs, namely the burst catsup packet in the middle pocket of my backpack. I had discovered this disaster while preparing to place an earphone in my right ear. My! What is all this sticky red stuff? I then, after locking the office door, headed straight for the women's room to apprise the situation. I spent a good 5 minutes rinsing off and wiping down everything that had been in that pocket and then of course the pocket itself. It would seem that with the cursing and whining my keys simply never made it back into my bag. By this time its about quarter of 11 and I am dosing myself up on some lemon flavored TheraFlu. I begin to think about my plans for the weekend. It was a tough, and I mean a tough decision, but I decided in favor of staying in Philadelphia. There would be no NY for me. No Bloodshot BBQ. No Blacks. No Ryan Adams. No Pine Valley Cosmonauts and no as it turns out Slim Cessna or Arab Strap (!!!). The music would have done my soul so much good, but the train rides, the chilly weather (how was I to know that it would be gorgeous today?), and all the smoking and drinking that I would not be able to resist probably would kill me. My decision stuck when I woke this morning with a nastier cough and a torturously sore throat. So here I am in Philly in front of my computer, cataloging my misfortune. What does this day have in store for me besides a stuffy nose? I have yet to get out of my PJs (not even for the walk to Sam's). I am nervously wondering what the green party fund raiser which is about to take place in my living room will be all about and if I have to pay to drink from the keg. sigh. I am bored. |
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10/19/00 ok, so apparently all that anticipation I have been feeling, it was all me gearing up for this head cold. sigh. I am especially annoyed that I am sick right now cause I have been planning on heading up to new york on Saturday for the Bloodshot Annual BBQ (all my new favorite rock stars will be there!!!). I have no idea if I will be able to manage it. I am feeling soso at this very moment, just a little stuffed up, but I think this is just beginning. I am only one day into this shit. Yet again, I find that I have nothing of interest to relay here. You guys must be getting really bored. I am sick. that's it. oh god! is anybody still reading?! |
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10/17/00 This past weekend was swell. Mainly cause the weather was fucking great. Also the leaves have begun to turn so Hazel is under quickly dying canopy of yellow, red, orange and green. I had hoped to be in Toledo this weekend and was rather dejected when I learned that my ride had fallen through, but no matter: We got a lot done around the house (with our guest lecturer landlord's help). Additionally I wrote a lot and drank a lot and had some wonderful conversations. Sunday, in spirit of home improvement, Phil, Tammy, Leah and I overhauled the back yard. It was grueling work. Hard on my back, but I played in the mud, with the bugs and bulbs and that made it all worth it. While we were mid cleanup Guilhermie arrived home from his two months abroad in eastern europe. As far as I can tell he came straight from the airport to our house. I came out of the garden to greet him, my hands and knees and feet all covered in dirt, my hair full of cobwebs and he pays me the finest compliment I think I have ever received, "look at you" he says, "I wanna homestead with you" heh. I had no idea that would be such a charming thing to hear. Back up. Speaking of our landlord, his visit went well. The biggest debacle was our use of his fancy pants Magistretti GOUDI chairs in our backyard. We knew they were rotten lawn chairs. They held water and they didn't even stack. We just didn't know it was because they were expensive pieces of (plastic) Italian INTERIOR furniture. He was a good sport about it. How were we to know? This week is too much. I have so much to do and not enough time to do it. Sometimes when things are like that, time passes really quickly. But not this week. This week its only Tuesday and it feels like Thursday. oh, this entry is going nowhere... I'll have more to say tomorrow. I promise. |
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10/11/00 The cafe on the first floor of my office building started selling these grilled quinoa and vegetable wraps and if I never have to eat anything else, I will remain satisfied. yum. sweet quinoa. Last night a bunch of us went to 4040 for godspeed you black emperor (almost as good as quinoa!). Before the first band even ended, I found myself pounding Yuengling quarts in a alley with Kassy and Devon and yet again, I realize that actions better suited for a 16 year old are the best way to bring myself excitement and joy. Am I experiencing some sort of would-be second childhood? If so, there a few things I need to do. I would like to: - stay up to all hours talking to boys on the phone. - sneak out of the house more. - start listening to ministry again. - have more drug addled adventures in convenience stores. - go on a road trip with marychen. and most importantly, if I am indeed regressing back to my youth, I will have to insist upon not doing any more of my chores. I have a lot of responsibility to make up for. |
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10/09/00 ok. I am in the middle of trying to quite smoking. What the crap? I am addicted to a drug. Listen to my words: ADDICTED TO A DRUG. fuck. Is there rehab for this? A god damn 12 step program?! ok. really I have been doing pretty well. I mean really well. Better then I ever thought possible given the circumstance. You know, seeing as how I am addicted to a drug and all. ok. see but tonight I am not doing so good. Its 1 am and I am still at the office and I am writing a new customer support page on custom cgi and could there be anything more infuriating (or dull)? I think not. I think this condones breaking my 5-a-day routine. ok. Actually nothing really condones it. That's the catch here kids: there is no good excuse. no ok reasoning. I just have to do it. I just wish... I didn't... have to do it. Here's what I keep telling myself: I am gonna quit smoking and by chance I live to some ripe old age, lets say 75 or 80, I am gonna pick this shit back up and I am gonna smoke till that day I die, and drink too. I am gonna be one of those nasty old ladies who drinks and smokes from dawn to dusk and well into the night (this opposed to, of course, those nasty 26 year old ladies...) and I am gonna love and revel in every bleedin second of it. just watch me. man, how did this even happen? |
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10/6/00 So I have recently taken to a partice wholly unknown to me for the first 26 years of my life: wearing combat boots. And oh shit, what fun! I can not believe that through my entire angsty, depressive, "alternative" youth I did not do this. It probably would have done wonders for my selfesteem. I seem to remember at 16 making the semi-conscious choice: boots or tattoos? tattoos. Well no matter, now ten years later, at 26 I can have it all! nobody's stopping me. Some other things I have recently re/discovered: Wallace and Gromit (d) Samuel Taylor Coleridge (rd) Dinner (rd) Slim Cessna's Auto Club (d) Roasted/salted soybeans (d) Burning Airlines (rd) The remote control for the dvd player (d) Ella Fitzgerald (rd) Eye shadow (rd): funny, it was actually the same night that I discovered combat boots, that I rediscovered eye shadow. go figure. Tonight: Glen E. Friedman @ 1026 This weekend: ah, its not gonna be good. NEXT weekend our landlord is visiting for the first time in over a year and THIS weekend we have to insure that he has a pleasant visit. |
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10/05/00 I got off the bus this evening and west philly smelled of fall, of earth and leaves and rain, and soil. Any moment now the leaves are gonna turn and its gonna be really fucking pretty. I count my blessings when it occurs to me that I have indeed been blessed. I am pleased that I am content in a city that has trees (and opossums and raccoons and bats and all that). Anyway, I was walking home from the bus stop and was making a concerted effort to inhale as deeply as I could. I wanted to get in as much of that good stuff as possible, but quickly the odor, like that of violets, hell like any good smell, disappeared. Now I am wondering if there is a name for that. You know, for that phenomenon, when all the same chemicals are there, but your nose just cant get at them anymore. I know for sure that with certain smells it really is chemical and not just your imagination and I know if it can be measured, noted, or quantified, there has got to be a name for it. I guess I could search on the web for an answer, but that's too easy. That kinda just ruins the romance of wondering. |
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10/03/00 Have you ever had a feeling of mysterious anticipation that lasted for days or weeks, maybe months? I am on like, week three of some weird emotional and somatic trip. I can't shake this strange feeling that something is about to happen. And this goes beyond just the mental idea that something is about to happen. I have had butterflies in my stomach (or wait, are those bats in my belly?) for almost a fortnight. Depending on my mind set and the circumstances at any given moment, this sensation runs a continuum of excitement and anxiety and back again and it's totally misdirected. I have no idea what I think is going to happen so I tend to imbue day to day practices and happenstance with way more meaning and possible significance then is necessary or even appropriate. (please see 9/15/00, 9/22/00, and possibly that monkey torturing thing as supportive evidence) I am beginning to wonder if it is just the change of seasons, or my battles with perl and linux, my impending anniversary, OR maybe, just maybe it's an ulcer. To avoid or perhaps placate this sense of unavoidable change I have been going out or sitting in front of the tv as much as possible- Anything to keep my mind off itself. The other night I labored through 'titus' and though I enjoyed the movie immensely, it left me feeling more tense and itchy then before. Is that any wonder? This past weekend I was out or up till past 4am every morning. Saturday night, in a fit of self determinism I took myself out drinking in old city. Bar to bar. Drink after drink. By bar three I was a bit concerned for myself. I was sitting there, at Anthony's OldStyle Pub wondering what the hell I was doing all alone on a saturday night and if that shot of rock and rye was really necessary. Then I realized that the entire time I had this big stupid smile on my face. I don't know what I was thinking. I barely talked to a soul. But I was having a great time. For a few hours I wasn't thinking about what ~might~ happen tomorrow. I was just content to be right then and there... or maybe that was the drink talking. I guess that I should concede that really, for the most part, I have been feeling good and that more often then not the feeling is of excitement and not of horror. I am just hoping that as October gets in to full gear that I will settle down a little bit. I don't know how much longer I can take this feeling in my gut. I'd give anything if it would just move up to my heart where it belongs. |
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