October 29, 2003

Vengence

Does anyone else suspect that the intensity of the California wildfires may have something to do with God's anger over the fact that Arnold was recently elected governor?

I do.

I wonder what other fun things California can look forward to, once he takes office. Let this be a lesson to all the rest of us.

October 26, 2003

Roving

Daylight Savings Time can bite my ass. It lies and claims that I get an extra hour's sleep - but what if I'm up at two, when the clocks mysteriously bump back an hour? And what if I kind of forget at that point that the clocks have changed, and that it's the first one-thirty? Or when I crawl in bed at 2:30 to realize that I still only get six hours' sleep? What then?

Usually I am all fond of this time switching, as it brings cold and snow and dark dark nights and cuddles and comfy comforters. Only this year, I'm fighting back. I want more late summer! I want some more 70-degree weather! Bring me your sun! Your dazzling blue skies! Puffy clouds! Grass! No snow! No!

Alas. I'm being greedy.

October 23, 2003

Woot

Elliott Smith is dead. This is sad.

Also sad, but on a very trivial level, are keyboards without always-functioning spacebars. (Sorry Shelf!)

People to whom you say "call me in two minutes!" and then they call you back about eighteen hours later can step to an elephant.

That is all.

October 22, 2003

Sense

My shoulder bag smells like cloves, though I haven't had one in over a month. My front incisor hurts, for no apparent reason.

It feels strange and awkward to be posting, as though I haven't typed in days.

Alice Munro's stories are calling; I find her to be horrible and brilliant at the same time. I want her to be the unknown daughter of Marilyn Monroe, but it's not to be.

October 19, 2003

Multiples

Things of which I really do not approve:

• Several of my favorite blogs calling it quits, either permanently or temporarily of unknown length.
• Crypic voicemails that, though spoken in a calm tone, send a message that causes my brain to freak the fuck out.
• Caffeine and dry-contacts caused headaches.
• Washing windows.

Things of which I approve:

• Tylenol.
  
• Old favorite blog making brief reappearance. Hopefully a permanent one, but likely not.
  
• Water.
  

October 13, 2003

Plug

Sunday, I went and saw Josh Rouse. While there, I drank martinis, smoked, and took an excessive amount of pictures.

You may see the pictures here.

I also recently saw Josh Ritter and Erin McKeown. Both were lovely performers, and were lovely post show, wherein I got things signed. (Josh Rouse did as well. I am accumulating a signed-poster wall.) However, there I was not smart enough to bring my camera. Rest assured that I drank martinis and smoked then, though.

October 12, 2003

When you got old

As though my digital camera wasn't already the best ever, I've just proven that its software also gets the title. For, you see, when you get antsy and want the program to move faster and angrily click to open the "Camera Window," up pops an error message.

"You cannot start a Camera Window task whilst Remote Capture is running. Please close Remote Capture."

How can I be mad with a program that says "whilst"? I simply cannot.

Extra Extra

I am tired. Concentration-crippling tired. Also, unwashed. I hate being unwashed.

I spent the night at home, after a delightful football game in which we beat down the (formerly) #3 team. In the rain. The ever-vigilant, constant, more-than-drizzle, less-than-pouring rain.

And the cold. And the wind. Jesus, the wind. I nearly froze.

And the beer didn't help.

October 08, 2003

Delightful

For the past two days, I've spied a ladybug. Yesterday it landed smack on my forearms as I chugged away from my apartment.

For the past three (I think) days, I've been puzzled with the weather. That cold snap before this inexplicable heat wave was just getting to feel normal. Now I've got to plunge my poor feet into painful sandals and no jackets and the like. Oh Wisconsin, will you ever make up your mind?

Life is full. Writing and drawing and rejoicing will round out this week. Public drunkenness shall also make its return.

October 05, 2003

Historic

Right now, I am procrastinating my creative writing story. Not because I feel like staying up late tonight and tomorrow, frantically finishing it, but because I have no clue what to write about.

This is terrible writer's block. I don't approve of it. I've known about this story for the past month, but haven't been able to think of anything suitable for my tastes. Instead, I will likely pound out some piece of utter crap and watch as the vultures tear it apart one chilly afternoon two days from now.

And while I'm sitting here, desperately telling my brain to come up with an obnoxiously brilliant plot, or character, or hell, even a setting, my mother is bombarding me with three line emails. Perhaps I should write about her.

October 03, 2003

But seriously..

I love how my mother, each and every time it rains, sends me an email. Not just any email. But one five minutes after I've left the house, with the crucial comment, "I hope you had an umbrella this morning!"

No. No, I didn't.

Odd

On this very strange Friday morning, I'd like to pose the following question:

Why is there a Playboy on my kitchen counter? It wasn't there at midnight.

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