daddy-o

I've decided to skip class today after Experiments in Drinking Many Boozes last night; I'm kind of wide-awake but I've got this headache and while I've enjoyed almost every movie very much the sheer mass of them is kind of congealing together in my mind and I'm having a harder time drawing intelligent revelations about each individual film when it comes time to write about them.  "This movie was good.  There was a lady.  She was sexful.  The man had a sharp haircut.  There was some buffoonery.  It is much like the reading because the reading was about the movie we watched." etc.Feeling guilty now, still thinking about making some coffee strong enough to chaperone me to class and dealing with it.  It's just watching a movie in an uncomfortable chair for an hour for christ's sake.  

Had fun last night; was social.  Need to be more social.  As I was driving downtown my heart got to beating so fast from being nervous about venturing on my own into public.  I think most of my nervousness comes from being convinced that any group in which the people already know each other will have no interest in me, will ignore me, and will hate me.  I probably feel this way because it's been my experience throughout my youth.  

Spent too much money on martinis.  

Saw some people, some cool people I like.  I like to be cool.  I like that they are cool and I like that I like them.

 

today at work

I was forced to decide the price of 1/4 lb. of yeast.  Not dry yeast, but the, it's not called "wet."  "Not-dry yeast."  It's like clay.  A clay of single-celled, budding organisms.  

I decided it was worth $1.50, and I can tell I'm going to spend too much time wondering whether or not it was a fair price for yeast.  The bakery does not usually sell yeast, so when I called R all "what the fuck" he told me to ask the lady what she thought was fair.  But the lady just stared dumbly at me, like, "you should know the price of the yeast."  And so I mumbled a

 few prices, questioningly, low, medium, and high, seeing whic

h one she seemed to favor.  She did not respond.  So I said, a dollar fifty?  

I also realized that the smell in the fridge that really bothers me is the smell of a large box of yeast, bricked in tight packages like the finest imported heroin.

I frosted the brownies we put in mixed four-packs for way too much

 money.  I was alone and bored and it's not a thing I'm "not supposed" to do but I probably wasn't supposed to do it, since the cake girls usually do.  My theme was "unconventional brownies" and I had varied success.  The Good were: peanut butter frosting, peanut bits, and reese's peanut butter cup bits; whipped chocolate frosting and coconut.  The Questionable were: strawberry frosting, strawberry goo, and chocolate chips (the strawberryness was an awesome concept that was just too gross and sweet); maple frosting and bacon bits.

I ended up with about six four-count packages of these brownies, and

 put them in the freezer.  I am somewhat apprehensive that someone will find them and freak out.  ... About the bacon.  Honestly it looks kind of like candy bits and the taste is so masked by the maple that it's just a salty chewy addition.  

After thinking about it for a second just now I've decided Russ's Market patrons are not prepared to deal with bacon on brownies.  I'll have to smuggle them out or destroy them somehow, hopefully nobody will even notice they exist.

YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU ARE MISSING PEOPLE.

This donut is a life goal for me, and I am not a big donut person.  I need to go... to Portland.

hotcha

I write weird shit when I'm drunk.  It needs to stop; I need to focus less on evacuation and more on cultivation.  Of the words.  It was actually helpful to me when my mind was more plant-oriented and less animal-oriented a couple months ago.  The animal is about reaction and instinct and frolicking in familiar territory, but the plant is a slow period of growth and bloom, absorption, static energy.  

Ha ha ha I don't even know what the fuck.

Caught "Wild at Heart" on an HD channel.  I have to be very brave to watch David Lynch films, they make me feel queer and nauseous.

  

something

Tonight I told a friend I've never met that thinking the world is magical makes you a burned-out acid head, but in truth I believe that the world is magical, just in a way that I can never tell anyone else about.  When I stop and feel it is entirely apparent, 

but in that way where I know

I might have become too absurd for my own liking.

In that I don't exactly

like myself,

except I do, 

"I do I do I do I do I do;"

look how clever I've become 

to maintain my skillful claw-clings to practicality;

to have achieved this balance

everything is balance is everything

my life is a slow process of 

perfection

whose definition liquefies

when I caress it

just so. 

fad

Going to start using canvas bags when I go grocery shopping.  I know it's not going to make any big sort of difference, and I tend to re-use my plastic bags as trash liners and what-have-you, but it's something I've been meaning to do and so I'm going to do it.

My next concern is to wean myself off of soda again.  Being a rum & coke drinker ("hell of a palate-cleansing beverage") does not help.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/07/23/la-plastic-bag-ban-dispos_n_114557.html

nights in white

Last night I executed the only plans with a friend I can remember making in the past six months or so (too shy/lazy to initiate actual plans with anyone now; this responsibility needs to be taken over for me).  Went to a strange bar in Omaha that's just like every other bar you've ever been to to see Alexis's Adam play in his first show (he did very nicely).  I didn't get very drunk but I got pretty drunk as the evening began its close with me doing pornographic doodles for Alexis and the bartender on the back of keno cards.  Then Alexis and John and I played Bejeweled on my iPhone in a booth while two indistinguishable screamy rock bands did their thing, and then I drew animals for John (dog, cat, horse, bunny, elephant, tiger) and broke a lot of crayons because I was scribbling so furiously in my drunkenness.  

So, I had a pretty good time as far as "going out to bars" goes.  I really usually don't enjoy going to bars at all because I don't see the fun in it, unless you're into cruising drunkenly for attention or sex or whatever.  I like to be able to talk to the people I'm with without screaming and gesturing; it is unbecoming.  I like to have activities I can do while I'm drunk, so I don't get bored.  I don't like being hit on or groped by creepies (even though if they stopped I'd probably feel sad and unattractive since creepies are the only people who ever hit on me).  

Driving home from Omaha there was a soft, persistent fog and every distant industrial building was lit up in a way that made me feel vibrations and whispers from dimensions where the architecture is full of contrast, color and shadow.  I imagined myself walking on a rocky ground among the buildings, knowing that for each one I entered I'd be greeted in an eternal sunny landscape as a long-lost princess, but it was all a fancy and I don't think I have near the mental concentration to make such magical lands appear in such terrestrial sites.  

I don't have to work today.  It's a miracle.   I don't know what I want to do but it involves eating, possibly chinese food.  

I've stopped thinking about getting tattooed (aka "the summer goal"), mostly because all the money I'd saved for it was lent out, but the idea is still lurking there sadly, sadly.  

What else is new.

I need to make coffee.  

    

a funny thing

When I was reading through the medical records of a client at work and thought "Oh look, that's the same psychiatrist I had at BryanLGH when I was 15."

It's fun to post photos of people looking into the camera here because when their eyes line up with the cat's it's like you're being extra-scrutinized.