01.19.2003 - 3:10 p.m.
It's an impossibly quiet afternoon,
and I'm feeling dreary and restless. JB left town this morning
and now the dog and I are moping around heaving great sighs and
staring into space.
I often feel lonely and bored
when JB first leaves before I adjust to the change in routine
(and begin merrily eating things directly from a can and living
in giant ratty T-shirts and stuff). And it doesn't help that
it's Sunday, you know?
end, it was the Sunday afternoons he couldn't cope with, and
that terrible listlessness which starts to set in at about 2:55,
when you know that you've had all the baths you can usefully
have that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph
in the papers you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary
new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at
the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o'clock,
and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul." -
Plus, I'm sick. Poor poor pitiful
me, all hacking and germy with no one to bring me ice cream.
I'm actually pretty sure it's bronchitis, having Done Some Research
online. Early symptoms include a dry, non-productive cough,
one site says, Later, an abundant mucus-filled cough.
Hey, that's me! Abundant AND mucus-filled!
I tried going to a movie earlier
- one I've seen before, you can probably guess which one - but had to leave about an hour
into it because it occurred to me that having to listen to my
muffled seal barks was probably driving the people around me
Stupid lung crud. You made
me miss all the cool battle scenes.
One thing I don't understand
about theatres is why it was decided that the perfect snack,
the ultimate in enhancing the movie experience, is popcorn. Why
not something quiet, like pudding? Sitting there watching
the previews and hearing everyone chewing made me think of being
inside a giant cage of locusts or something. Why are people always
hungry at movies anyway? Didn't they have lunch/dinner? This
dark, larval feeding - why?
Oh, and have you seen the Terminator
3 preview? "She'll be back"? Heh.
I was reading a journal which had a link to the amazingly
Fridge Project. This is deeply appealing to me, although
I can't describe it as well as Artichoke Heart does.
So let's get it on,
web-journal-fridge-exposing-wise. Go take a picture of your fridge
and tell me about it, right now. Oh, you may scoff. You may claim
to have "better things to do". But one thing is certainly
clear - I DON'T.
Fridge, The Front
The two notable characteristics
about the front of my fridge are probably the bottle cap opener
from the House of Blues in Las Vegas, which has been a perfect
champ about cracking many a cold frothy beverage, and the hard-to-see
bendy magnet characters on the upper left who are supposedly
ascending Mt. Rainier (there's a teeny flag at the top that says
'14,400 ft') but are currently placed in a brazen doggy style
Fridge, The Inside.
Let's see here - pretty typical
stuff. You've got the unidentified Mystery Object in tupperware,
the mounds of lettuce and veggies dying a slow death on the bottom
shelf, the 7-up for the Crown Royal, the tonic water for the
Bombay Sapphire, the I Can SO TOTALLY Believe It's Not Fucking
Butter, the keg of CoffeeMate, the assorted beers.
Well. That was exciting. Man,
I need to towel off after that.
Okay. This afternoon WILL end,
at some point. Eventually it will be the evening, and I have
season 3, volume 3 of Sex in the City, I have Y Tu Mama Tambien,
I have Margaret Atwood's Lady Oracle, and I have a multiple options
for booze. And if I get too lonely, there's always the phlegm-laden
ribcage-rattling cough to keep me occupied.
No one can say I don't know
how to party.
go back :::
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004