Today was also murder.
But, also, it was pay day.

Man. Today was murder. People arguing with one another about who's work I would be doing first. My psyche hurts. I'm going to go get into bed and watch the first half of Harold & Maude.

Earthquake photo #1: on CNN



I don't get it.
It's a beverage aisle.
Why is it full of fallen t.p.?

STAGED!

Actually looks kind of fun.
I would like to pounce.
Pounce pounce.

yay yay yay I got a big black shirt today! Well, ordered it, anyway.

No sir, I am not rapping.

As morbid as it might be, this is a really funny anti-fur ad done by Sheryl Lee (aka Laura Palmer).



I mean, after playing a dead girl in a two season television series and a full length movie, what else can you do with your career? Even if you were a good actress. Lucky for Kevin Kostner, they never did show his face when he played the dead guy in the Big Chill.

It's ten o'clock and I still can't seem to shake sleepiness. I've gotten a lot done so far this morning, but it's a struggle. I'm, for the most part, sleepwalking. So bizzarro. Wake up!!

In other news, man, corgies.

Last night I dreamed I was trapped in this town. Shudder.

We're heading out to lovely Kalamazoo soon for the weekend to see Moms and Naokos. We're staying in a hotel that allows dogs and has a swimming pool. I'm pumped.

I know it's weird....

...but how weird is it?

I love Ida Pearle's art. The web doesn't do it any justice. Not at all. It's all made of individual pieces of fabric and paper. And I could stare at it in person for hours. I went to one of her shows in New York and was able to stare at each piece up close. This montage of baby bunny's arrival (which was made for Dan Littleton and Elizabeth Mitchell) made me cry. No lies.

(click to see a little bigger - but definitely not big enough)

What's weird is that I'm tempted to buy this set of alphabet cards for any future baby's bedroom:

http://www.idapearle.com/g-full-13.html

Future my baby. That's what's weird. Thinking of buying something for someone who may not even ever exist. Is that crazy or do women actually start doing this kind of thing when we reach a certain point? It's just that I love Ida Pearle's stuff so much... and this is twenty six different pictures! And it's affordable - even if it is just prints. There are so many things to stare at on these images, I don't think I would ever get tired of them if I were a little one.

Maybe I could just get it for my room. Even though I already know my alphabet pretty well.

Apparently I left my instant messaging logged in yesterday when I left work. I came in this morning to a rant from someone, chewing me out for not responding to them. Calling me shallow, etc. The rant ends with "goodbye for good."

Oops.

Guess I should remember to sign out of my instant messaging when I'm gone. Could maybe give people the wrong impression.

In lighter news, I dreamed last night that I was trying on wigs with Amy Winehouse. It was a good time. I prefer white wigs, myself. I felt they looked best on me. And on Amy.

We have a soft new rug. and Picante. And AC. And Army of Darkness is on On Demand. This is one fine evening.

Did you know that in Japan, Army of Darkness is called "Captain Supermarket?" They really have a way of coming up with much better movie titles. I heard once that the film "Nixon" was put out in Japan under the title "That Dirty Bastard." Although the internet is not confirming this for me. I like to believe it's true.

Worst night sleep ever. I'm in pain already.

Love me some dystopian sci-fi on a Sunday afternoon

I had a little too much caffeine this morning sans food and got myself all crazy. Organized my sock drawer. Flopped on the bed and speed read pages of Salinger's dialogue-only writing. And the speed at which I read it made the characters sound like maniacs. Then again, most of his characters are maniacs, aren't they?

Cleaned the house.
Pulled out old Polvo cassettes. The tapes are showing their half life in terms of quality of sound.

Then Z took me to see Wall-E tonight. Maybe he was tired of my pacing. It was good. Pretty much a children's version of Idiocracy with too many parallels to bother referencing. And minus the hooker. And a dang lot more cute overall. My favorite part is near the very end when the cockroach jumps for joy. Yeah. I'd pretty much clap and drool a that part if I didn't mind my senses. Thanks for the reccos, friends.

Unrelated. It's warm. And my body is making a kind of b.o. of summers way past. Just a different uh.. timbre, if you will. I think this is what I used to smell like when I was twenty. Zach is equating it to the fact that I ate a giant (i mean biiiigg) cheezeberger (and by that I mean real cow) in the midst of a hangover Saturday morning. Fortunately my conscience was still sleeping. Do vegetarian armpits smell different than those of omnivores?

If my brother's going to call me a hippie I may as well live up to it. Not with the cheeseburger part, but ... Smell me.

Forgot to call my grandma for her birthday again. I think I've remembered maybe one in thirty. Sigh.

Mom, aren't you proud of me?

I'm letting my hair grow out again. I have a feeling. This time it's going to be different.

I did so much in my dreams last night that I kind of feel justified in sitting around all morning.

What up this beautiful Sunday, Chicago?

Just gave the dog a haircut.  She looks silly.  We have one of those clear canister "bagless" vacuums and it looks like a second dog is trapped inside it now.   

Brother and the babies are in town tonight.  Kind of sitting around waiting for a call back.  Thinking we might not see them after all this evening.  He has a tendency to not call and let me know what's going on.  Kind of like how I apparently have a tendency to never thank him for dinners.  But, I guess, dude, he's my brother.  We're not even *supposed* to be polite to one another.  We should be happy if the other cares so much as to sit on us and fart.  Like old times.

As soon as we know for certain that those plans fell through, we'll head over to Stringbot's house warming party.  I'm feeling kind of terrified because I know we won't know anyone there.  Not real confident in my social skills as of late - even with people I do know.  Might have something to do with the fact that I don't have anything to talk about other than the tv shows I watch, the books I read, the train ride to work, the spreadsheets I spend my days studying.  Train ride to work is maybe the most exciting.  

Yeah.  I think I need to quickly either a) start studying for the GMAT so that I can maybe go back to school.   b) sign up for some guitar lessons with Rockin' Billy down the street.    The latter would be less expensive in the long run.   The thirties are turning out to be kind of boring.  Lately, at least.

Yawn.

Hello. It's Tuesday night. It's technically bedtime but I'm not quite ready to commit to that just yet. Messing with my dietary habits and I've got an uneasy feeling that I haven't gotten my nutrients right yet for the day. Protein, check. Calcium, check. Fiber - does a bag of salad contain much fiber? What about whole grain bread? Also worried I might be giving myself gas.

[later]

Whatever I was writing about seems trivial after the scooter accident that just occurred on the street below our apartment. The flashing lights of fire trucks and ambulances can instantly quiet a city street at night. Seems everyone's going to be okay.

Confession:

I finished the Of Mice and Men audio book on my way home from work today. And then I sat in my car in crawling traffic, sobbing for a good half hour. Folks in cars next to me ought to have thought I was nuts. Or going through a breakup. Or was maybe really really ill prepared for Chicago traffic. Now I just have a headache.

Glad I didn't know that John Malkovich was cast as Lennie in the film. It might've been harder to muster up that reaction otherwise. I just... Hm.

Every book I've been reading lately ends up being about suicide or death of some other sort in the end.

I do, however, like that when you run a google image search on the title this picture comes up:



Great, right?