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innsANe in the MEmbrNE (insane in the braaaaaaaane)

Thurs|04.18

Happy Earthquake Day!

You're welcome. Please note that it's Lotte's Fountain, not Lotta's. Silly. I shake my fist at the person responsible for that.

I've been thinking dontcha know, what with David Lee Roth and Sammy Hagar getting together for a tour, FINALLY! IVE BEEN BEGGING THEM FOR YEARS!, and then A FRIEND OF A FRIEND mentioned that David Lee Roth video from the summer of 1985 that begins in a convenience store with a bunch of stereotypical characters and I realized every freakin word of that scene is accessible right there in me BRANE, and I can hear the chords of the music starting, but I don't know what song it is. Shame, that. I know, I know.

How do I know it was summer of 1985, you ask? Thank you, I've been dying to say. Well I know that because I was in Florida with Timber, visiting my ex and Timber's best friend all wrapped into one, this guy named Jake. We stayed at the Holiday Inn and a guy shot his wife in the room right next to ours, we heard the shot but didn't know what it was, we were listening to music pretty loudly and the noise didn't repeat so we didn't think about it again, until the next morning, with the police tape covering the door and our USA TODAY (isn't that paper JUST the BEST, WHO does their GRAPHICS?) telling us what had happened. Well not literally telling us, we had to read it for ourselves, but you hear me. You read me. You are digging me. Am I right? Okay then.

So we're all, oh my god! And so forth. Then I kind of hit on the AC repairman but changed my mind and said Timber was my boyfriend although he was quite obviously gay to the AC repairman, but I can pretend to be a deluded young lady in love with a gay guy just fine, it's not that hard.

So when Jake got back from work we told him and he was all NO WAY! And we were all WAY! And I believe this is the first time I ever heard of a husband killing his wife for leaving him, now it's all too common, but back then, not so much. At least not that I was aware of. Maybe it wasn't news back then, no one really knew about abuse and stalking and so on and so forth. The stalking was just becoming a common thing then. Possibly. HEY all I said was I remembered the video, I'm no socialapagus.

I LOVE MY CAT SO MUCH!

Okay so back then MTV used to play these things called "music videos" and the David Lee Roth one was in heavy rotation that summer, along with "Nasty" by Janet Jackson. "Ladies?" "Nasteeeee girls....." Timber and I used to imitate the face that girl made, and it turns out the one sitting next to her was Paula Abdul, who knew. We picked out our favorite dancers, his was the one in the sailor suit, mine was the long-haired scary-looking-for-a-dancer guy.

Argh, there is no ending. There is so much to this story. ARGH! Anyhoo, night.

ADDENDUM: Hmmmm, while looking for a pic from the "Nasty" video, I noticed the release date for Control is 1986. Could I be WRONG in thinking it was 1985? Stay tuned. Okay, probably. Yes, it's possible. Hmmmmmmm. OH MY TOTAL GOD IT WAS 1986. 1985 no way. OKAY THEN NEVER MIND.

annn' BABY BABY BABY do ya liiiiiike iiiiittt

Wed|04.17

It seems like today is someone's birthday. Can't think of who. Is it yours? Okay then. Happy Birthday, you FREAK!

Yesterday on the bus, I was carrying many bags and made the teenager sitting on the outside of the only empty seat move in. HAHAHA! In your face, kid. Well, if she hadn't pretended not to see me, things could've been different between us. We could've made the whole sharing a seat thing last. ALAS. So then she makes the move like she's pulling in her legs, like, okay lady with a million bags, that's enough room for you to get past me, right? Without clocking all kinds of people in the head with your bags as you try not to fall on top of me? No?

No, kid. So I told her to move over. It gave me pleasure, I have to say. It all ties into the second most annoying thing people do on the bus (nail clipping being the first). You can get on a bus and people are on the outside of every single seat, and no one is on the inside, and they have the staring straight ahead thing going on, just in case you thought you wanted to sit next to someone. Bastards.

So she moves over, I sit down, we roll on down the street. She pulls on the hood of her friend's sweatshirt, and her friend, who's sitting in front of us, turns around and they giggle, say something in Tagalog, and laugh uproariously. I'm sure this has nothing at allllll to do with me, so I concentrate on other passengers. Ohhh no one is looking at me. I have my prime staredown eyes on, too. Oh well.

The driver makes a half-hearted stop near City Hall and takes off before the people who rang the bell can make it to the door. "HEY!" they both yell, and the driver slows the bus, pulls over, and turns his head.

"HAY," he says to the entire bus, "isss for horsesss."

He pauses for effect, then opens the door and releases his passengers.

This was my contribution to International Petty Complaints Day. You're welcome.

stars above. are shinin dowwwn ever since. you put me dowwwn

Mon|04.15

It's been a long time since I've cried at work, I think the last time was around my 33rd birthday. I felt really emotional for the two or so weeks leading up to it, work was extremely busy, and I knew I'd be working on my birthday to get a project out when I had planned on taking the day off--the project manager and I had "talked" and I'd agreed to take the day after my birthday off instead, due to the deadline. As often happens, something went wrong with receiving pertinent data or something, so that on my real birthday the deadline was pushed back to my fake birthday, and I was expected to also come in on my fake birthday.

But I wasn't about to, and I didn't, and I was just so ANGRY that my birthday, which is a pretty arbitrary day to place importance on in the scheme of things, was being pushed away for this fake emergency (aren't they all? I mean unless you're an EMT or something) to get this "paper" to a "client" who probably wasn't going to read it anyway, okay maybe the executive summary, and I'd been working relentlessly and am quite a delicate flower to begin with, and so I spent most of the time leading up to my birthday crying in my office with the door closed. Oh, I was still working, make no mistake. You can format documents and cry at the same time.

Anyway, that happened again today. Not the exact situation, but I feel really out of control and angry and frustrated and there are a couple people in this office who are not exactly easy-going and I caught the brunt of two situations that there should've been no argument about, really, two non-situations that were made into big deals by blowhards. And so I just spent the last twenty minutes crying in fury and frustration, with my door closed. I don't feel like quitting and I don't feel like I have to fix my job. I do have to change something, I have to figure out why I'm reacting so strongly to things today, and what I need to do to fix it, but I didn't up and quit and that's a good sign, so I guess I'm an adult or something now. Well okay I was running through quitting in my mind, but I wasn't really going to do it.

This is just all so stupid. These arbitrary drop-dead deadlines that cause stress and make people lose sleep, what are they for? They're bullshit. It's crazy how we all have to work together, we're so different in working habits and patterns and writing styles and verbal communication, what you hold back, what you say, what you don't tell someone that needs to be said. I don't like working with people, I like being on the sidelines doing something that needs to be done but that no one else is doing, so that I don't have to agree or disagree with anyone about anything or "discuss" things.

It doesn't always work out like that, though.

I think I might throw up.

yr loyaltyy is not to meee but. to the stars aboooove

Sun|04.14

I lost my drugs. I mean meds, meds. MEDS. They're somewhere here, but where? I hid them from the bugman because you KNOWWWW about bugmen. Well okay that's not why. I'm not sure when I saw them last? These aren't ones I take every day, these are "as needed" and and and. I wonder where the hell they are.

I'm a procrastinator. There's something (well, lots of things, but this one thing) I've been meaning, trying to do for months, and I have to do it tonight and I just can't. I suck. Maybe I can do it during lunch tomorrow.

In the meantime, my dishes are not washed my clothes are not washed my bed is not made my cat is curled up asleep next to me and I think about the things I need to do but don't do how long can I put them off when will the force of the undone crush me like a grape. Or bruise me like a grape. Something.

Something.

Work is going to be hellish this week and I think I should start whimpering about it now, just to get warmed up.

Mmmmmommmy. Mommy? Maahhhmeee.

Sunday nights, worse than Monday. TREPIDATION. Trep.i.da.tion.

Ive gota FElelling I'm not the oonlY onE

Sat|04.13

Dear people of my city: Please stop clipping your fingernails on the bus, in the bank, and in the library. Especially when I'm right there. See how I'm glaring at you? Yup, there's a reason. STOP DOING THAT! Thank you.

You people are breaking my heart. No, not the nailclipping people. YOU! You, writing so sad and pure and straightforward about having problems, and doubts, and pause, and the sadness. My peoples are sad and I don't like that but I like reading it because I'm a stupid whore. Oh wait, that's not why. I forget why. I appreciate the look into your life? That's trite but I guess true. I don't know why, exactly. Because it's sharing? Touching? Sharing? Anyways, thank you and I was gonna wish happiness on you, but it's for selfish reasons, like when my father would tell me to smile because no one likes to see that look on my face, really it was HIM who didn't want to see that look on my face and I didn't REALLY have to smile, it took me until my mid-twenties to realize that. I DONT HAVE TO SMILE WHEN SOMEONE ORDERS ME TO. So you stay you, why not. And I sprinkle good wishes on you.

Thing that is worrying me now: I will not pick up my apartment sufficiently to have someone come in and feed my cat while I'm out of town in May and therefore my cat will die, because I didn't pick up after myself. KILLED BY SLOPPINESS! My poor little cat. She's sitting on the bed right now, her eyes closing and opening and closing again, unaware of her impending doom. Sorry kitty. I'll try to prevent this injustice. THIS HORRIBLE KRIME.

I don't believe in reincarnation, but it's a cool idea, and sometimes I think my cat is my grandmother. I mean okay, I know she isn't, but the way she looks at me sometimes, and sighs, she's so Grandma-like.

SHOUT OUT TO MY DEAD GRAMMY!

Okay then.


aRcHiVeS | hOmE