&these romantic dreams in my head!
so last weekend (not this last weekend, but last last weekend), when it was below zero without the windchill factored in, i had to work. as in, all day, from seven-thirty in the morning until six at night on saturday, and then only for an hour or two on sunday. to be quite fair, this eleven-hour day did include a few hours' break between the time windows of the last cat and the first dog and the last dog. but i am factoring in travel time as well. all told, it was probably something like six or seven hours, which is less than the average workday, but my point is that probably 85-90% of that time was spent outside. this is also the weekend the gas company decided would be a good one to turn my heat off. cooking gas as well. i also had no hot water, a phenomenon which i am still not certain is directly related but am assuming is. "somehow" i managed to get sick, a state i have been languishing in since that time. at first it was just a sore throat and disgusting, hacking cough which lasted a week. my mother is convinced this was strep. i am not sure how to tell, but since strep generally goes away on its own in adults, i decided it was annoying but not too worrying. finally, this this weekend, i was rendered unable to breathe, and went through approximately a roll of toilet paper because we didn't have any tissue in the house and apparently i have become my grandmother who also does not buy tissue, but wipes her nose on toilet paper because it may or may not be cheaper. then came the puking! not too much, but any is too much really. yesterday, the phantom joint pains in my legs and arms, which i had assumed were the products of bicycling and rollerskating in inclement weather while carrying a backpack, combined with thrice-weekly hapkido, morphed into not-so-phantom back pain. needless to say, i have obviously been incubating some wicked influenza and will surely die. so now i am sitting with the cat, wrapped in a blanket, listening to this week's this american life, and drinking a ginormous bottle of grapefruit juice which has a little less vitamin c than orange juice, but has iron! awesome! if i finish all 32 ounces, i will have consumed 440% of my daily recommended value of vitamin c!
and now, i am getting ready to consume a dinner fitting of my financial station: bowl after bowl of spaghetti! i am so effing pumped for this!
this weekend, alison and i camped out at j's house and i watched (finally!) sin city, the godfather (part one), an american tail (feivel! russian jewish mousie!!! clearly, i have seen THIS one before!), blade, the people vs. larry flynt (it was on a tape j found, okay? his mom made it, like, years ago or whatever), and then we went out and saw children of men at the three-dollar theater. i think i did not find it as "amazing" as apparently everyone else in the known universe, but i didn't dislike it. actually, though, i think i no longer take any pleasure in movies. they're all too predictable. i know what's going to happen at least five seconds before it it does. we fully recognized this during sin city. this may or may not be because it was a completely formulaic neo-noir, and was supposed to be, but honestly? some people are good at things. and i? am great at figuring out media plots. television, mainly, but cinema as well. i don't do it so much with books. but i could tell what was going to happen with children of men, and it made me yawn a bit. it was sort of pretty, i think. and sad. i did find it sad, but that made me angry, because i felt like i was being manipulated. obviously, this is a deep-seated psychological problem.
there is a series of videos on youtube which i guess comprise a bruce springsteen show in hammersmith in 1975. they are completely effing amazing, and the one for "for you" kind of made me lacrimate because i am a TOTAL SUCKER like that. it's true! ps- "lacrimation" is totally the new slang around here. this is because alison and i are nerds, and because this is what she is learning in school and maybe it is helping her remember some. also, "4th of july, asbury park (sandy)" is pretty damn amazing, and so is "e street shuffle" in the way that it is 1975 and springsteen is such a skinny, snot-nosed kid (this is before he went nuts on the body-building. he is little, but still muscle-y in the way that little guys are, which is a way i find so attractive and a way i continuously strive to be) and he is obviously on so many drugs and the whole song is RIDICULOUS and about twelve minutes long and not particularly rock&roll like it is on the record but still REALLY GREAT and oh shit i am so straight for him!
my cat is so clumsy! he is a nut! he is not suave like you'd think cats are. he's dizzy like you'd think an inner ear infection is. he was sitting on a chair, leaning over to gnaw something sitting on a stool next to it that he clearly wasn't supposed to be gnawing on. i told him to quit it and he looked up at me and then proceeded to fall off the stool (slowly, mind!) because he was leaning over too far, trying to be slick! i love washburne!
and now, i am getting ready to consume a dinner fitting of my financial station: bowl after bowl of spaghetti! i am so effing pumped for this!
this weekend, alison and i camped out at j's house and i watched (finally!) sin city, the godfather (part one), an american tail (feivel! russian jewish mousie!!! clearly, i have seen THIS one before!), blade, the people vs. larry flynt (it was on a tape j found, okay? his mom made it, like, years ago or whatever), and then we went out and saw children of men at the three-dollar theater. i think i did not find it as "amazing" as apparently everyone else in the known universe, but i didn't dislike it. actually, though, i think i no longer take any pleasure in movies. they're all too predictable. i know what's going to happen at least five seconds before it it does. we fully recognized this during sin city. this may or may not be because it was a completely formulaic neo-noir, and was supposed to be, but honestly? some people are good at things. and i? am great at figuring out media plots. television, mainly, but cinema as well. i don't do it so much with books. but i could tell what was going to happen with children of men, and it made me yawn a bit. it was sort of pretty, i think. and sad. i did find it sad, but that made me angry, because i felt like i was being manipulated. obviously, this is a deep-seated psychological problem.
there is a series of videos on youtube which i guess comprise a bruce springsteen show in hammersmith in 1975. they are completely effing amazing, and the one for "for you" kind of made me lacrimate because i am a TOTAL SUCKER like that. it's true! ps- "lacrimation" is totally the new slang around here. this is because alison and i are nerds, and because this is what she is learning in school and maybe it is helping her remember some. also, "4th of july, asbury park (sandy)" is pretty damn amazing, and so is "e street shuffle" in the way that it is 1975 and springsteen is such a skinny, snot-nosed kid (this is before he went nuts on the body-building. he is little, but still muscle-y in the way that little guys are, which is a way i find so attractive and a way i continuously strive to be) and he is obviously on so many drugs and the whole song is RIDICULOUS and about twelve minutes long and not particularly rock&roll like it is on the record but still REALLY GREAT and oh shit i am so straight for him!
my cat is so clumsy! he is a nut! he is not suave like you'd think cats are. he's dizzy like you'd think an inner ear infection is. he was sitting on a chair, leaning over to gnaw something sitting on a stool next to it that he clearly wasn't supposed to be gnawing on. i told him to quit it and he looked up at me and then proceeded to fall off the stool (slowly, mind!) because he was leaning over too far, trying to be slick! i love washburne!