This week hasn't started off so well. I've already had 2 large slices of baclava, one piece of rugulah and an ice cream bar. Damn my friends for giving me sweets!

I'm going to make a hat for a friend of mine but since I want to use a knitting style I'm unfamiliar with I'm practicing on some other yarn I have laying around. I started today at work and it's pretty exciting. I had to start over about five times but none of those were actually related to the new style I was using; I just kept making dumb mistakes. The new style is called fair isle/strand knitting. I don't know which one it's actually called because different sources say different things. One website says that fair isle is a type of stranding but doesn't go on to say what's unique about it. Stranding involves knitting with two colors, one in each hand. I taught myself to knit with both hands specifically so I could try this style. As I could see my pattern begin to emerge in my knitting I actually got a little breathless; that's how excited I was that it was working. But then I would have to take it apart and start over. I'm sincerely anticipating work tomorrow so I can get back to my knitting.

I'm sorry, that's really all that's happening in my life right now.

trade-off

Here's how things kind of broke down:

Sunday
pilates
half a box of yogurt covered raisins
Monday
3 peanut butter Girl Scout Cookies, 4 thin mints
finished the box of raisins
Tuesday
pilates
Wednesday
pilates
Thursday
7 thin mint Girl Scout cookies
Friday
3 mini-cupcakes
Saturday
pilates
3 chocolate filled rugulah
Sunday
one pint o' ice cream

I thought I had done pretty well until I actually typed the week out. Now I'm less satisfied. But considering that I used to eat 3-4 pints of ice cream every week it's certainly an improvement. And I did exercise 4 times, that's pretty good. I mean, I didn't do any sort of cardiovascular work but I usually just sit on my ass so once again, an improvement.

The major inhibitor to the new me is that I've traded one vice for another. On all the days that I really wanted something sweet I instead treated myself to a 22oz Sapporo. So don't worry, I'm still getting my empty calories and I've cut out that pesky protein.

I'm just so angry right now. Or at least I was when I got home. Now it's turning more into apathy. I know of a few ways I could combat it but part of the problem is that it saps my energy to do so.

Why show?

I'm distracted by Top Chef. Ah! I can't think at all.

When I was young I fantasized about having super powers, as did everyone I knew, though I think I daydreamed a bit more often. I wanted to use my powers to find happiness, get fame, luxury, crush my enemies, the regular stuff. Now that I'm an adult I still have those fantasies. Only now I'd use my powers to stay free of disease, clean my room faster, have better hair, non-oil smelling clothes. My dreams have certainly become more sophisticated.

I have more elaborate fantasies involving super powers too but I'm not going to divulge those. I hope that someday I'll be able apply those fantasies in an artistic way but until then I'm just a guy sitting at home, living in my head playing video games.

The dance show was...was...was, I don't even know. MNS sent me a link to a website that's looking for reviewers and I was going to use this show as my sample writing but I don't even know what to write.

Why did he say that?! I can't believe he just said that. Oops, Top Chef distracted me again.

Back to the dance show. It was so boring and self-indulgent. The last 10 minutes or so were spent watching a fucking slide show of candid pictures. A lot (if not all) of the pictures were contemporary dancers and choreographers, some who were in the audience. It was like being forced to watch the college slides of a friend of a friend that you didn't know and certainly didn't care about. There was nothing in this show that made me actively interested. Melanie and I agreed that it did make both of us think but think about pretty much anything besides what we were watching. We should have just gone to dinner.
The title of this entry was taken from the program in reference to the subject matter of the show. It expresses my thoughts exactly.

And that's it for today.

blaaaa

I keep looking at this screen until I see double and then it gets fuzzy, trying to will some interesting topic into my head. It's just not happening. I've been experimenting with different knitting ideas in the attempt to create a hat pattern for a friend of mine. It's not going so well, let's just say it looked like shit. And I mean that literally. Really.

I'm supposed to go to a dance show tonight but I don't feel like it. Earlier I was afraid that it might be some sort of shoes-off type of thing and I of course wore holey socks today even though HL bought me new ones for Christmas and demanded that I throw my old ones away. Eh. I didn't. Then I feared that the dancers might break the fourth wall, which I'm also not in the mood for. The last thing I need is some dancer talking/yelling/staring at me. It's cold. I just want to go home.

I still haven't bought any ice cream or other dessert product. I did eat a bunch of those Girl Scout cookies but as stated earlier, those don't count. I've also exercised 4 times this week. Last night and this morning my muscles were sore and at first I was proud/disappointed with myself. Proud that I've been working hard enough to make myself sore but disappointed because I know I really haven't been doing that much so my body must be pretty out of shape for those meager exercises to make it tired. But then I realized the real reason, which completely erased any lingering pride I might have had. It's cold outside! Yes, when you are cold and shivering all the time your muscles tend to hurt, even after they've warmed up.

I may or may not still run to the mirror right after I finish exercising. I want to keep that image of toned muscles in my head as long as possible.

oh breeder (brother)

I just watched a communication training workshop held at the theater where I work. It was led by members of our education department in an effort to better equip our ushers with the tools needed to, god this sentence is just going on forever. I should really be filling out the observer response sheet they gave me but it requires at least some thought on my part so I'm avoiding it. I'm justifying it by telling myself that I only had one hour of work left when I got back to my desk and my, the phones are certainly busy and I really don't have time to finish that survey right now, I'll do it tomorrow. But in reality here I am on blogger. Did I ever actually think I could go back to school?

Disclaimer: men and women are not treated equally in our society. I am well aware of this, okay? Okay.

Last night my roommate Horsey came home and told me that she had placed an ad on craigslist for a date Saturday night. I mustered up my best skeptical expression while she told me about her responses. She did admit that obviously some were fake but she was positive about one man. I was less so. I'm pretty much convinced that every single person on the craigslist personal ads is a liar. But here's the kicker: in her ad she stated that he'd be buying her dinner. I've run into this mentality numerous times with women in my life. Among other things (that I don't feel like listing, let's just concentrate on this one), they still expect men to pay for dinner. That's completely unfair. If men and women should be treated equally then don't expect a man to pay for your meal, pay for it your own goddamn self. Yes, I know how nice it feels when you're out with someone and they offer to pay but to expect, nay demand it? That just pisses me off. Of course, I'm assuming that she believes in equality between men and women. I guess that might be giving her too much credit. It's just that I find it so hard to imagine that someone wouldn't want equality that I forget that those ideas actually do exist. In college I got in an argument with a friend of mine about this very subject. She thought men should pay for her dinner and hold doors for her and whatever other crap I can't remember. I said she couldn't have those things and still be treated like a peer. You can't expect a man to treat you like some fragile helpless queen and an intellectual equal. That's selfish and wrong. By the by, I'm well aware that I'm ignoring a lot of issues here; that was intentional. But if you really feel the need to point them out, go ahead.

at least my mom is proud of me

All you bloggers out there who haven't switched to the new Blogger Beta version should. And do you know why? Because it will be easier for me to leave comments on your blog. If you're still on the old version I have to go to a separate page to log in with my Google account then go back to your blog to leave a comment. And if I've already typed a comment it gets erased during the transfer. So switch! Switch! Switch for me!

And now for some pictures.

This hat is special for many reasons.

1. I made it.

2. A friend/coworker gave me the yarn, ergo I didn't spend any money.

3. I made it for said friend/coworker (that's her head).

4. I knit it all while at work.

5. I unraveled the whole thing right before I finished so I could slightly alter it.

6. The most exciting: I semi-taught myself 4 new knitting related techniques.

Since this yarn was free I decided to use it to learn how to knit with the yarn in my left hand (Continental style, baby). I was taught how to knit with the yarn in my right hand (English style) but I can only knit for about an hour that way. After that my arm gets tired. Plus it always seems like Continental knitters can go much faster. To begin I made myself knit a four inch wide swatch for an hour everyday. It was very frustrating; I felt like I was learning to knit all over again and realized why beginning knitters hate it so. Then I would switch back to English style to release some tension and work on my legwarmers. I figured that by the time I finished my legwarmers I'd be ready to try a project Continental style. I then taught myself how to make cables in my knitting. Cable knits form that twisty band you see best in the first picture. I used to hate cables; I thought they looked ugly. But they are so fun to do that now I love them. I also and still do hate seams. My seams always suck. My sister Ida once showed me how to knit a seam but I only vaguely remembered what she did so I tried to recreate it when putting together this hat. I don't know if I did it the way she did but it turned out pretty well. Then the pom-pom. I was pretty satisfied with my trial hat until I made that damn pom-pom. It just did not turn out that great. Then sewing it on was a bitch too. It looks okay until you touch it and realize that it's pretty floppy. But I'm still happy about the other things I've learned.

Hopefully something else will happen to me today so more than two people will find my posts interesting.

mr. hyde just needed a fudgsicle

So the day after I wrote that last post I walk into work and my boss has brought two boxes of Girls Scouts cookies. I'm one of only two people in this office today (not counting my boss, who has extra boxes at home and specifically brought these in so other people would eat them) and the other person is allergic to gluten and can't eat the cookies anyway. So all day I have to resist the temptation to shove these things in my mouth and it's getting hard. I mean, they're sitting right there! Maybe I should hide them. Maybe I can just restructure my resolution and say that I'll cut back my dessert eating of once a week to things that I buy. I mean, I can't control other people's actions and if they want to shower me with sugar I can't stop them. And wouldn't it be rude to refuse their gift?

Completely unrelated, I went to the dentist yesterday and my gums bled like hell. She said my mouth looked like a horror movie.

On Friday I told HL it was his duty to help me kick my dessert habit. At 3AM on Sunday morning we tipsily wandered the local corner store searching for goodies to buy. He, being a good friend, stood between me and the brownie mix and refused to budge, no matter how much I told him to ignore my earlier resolution. We jokingly argued for a while until I finally lunged, grabbed by him by the shoulders, threw him aside and claimed the coveted mix. I noticed the fear in HL's eyes was immediately shamed. What kind of monster had I become, to violently abuse my friend in order to feed my habit?! I put the brownie mix back on the shelf and we left empty-handed. And I swear I didn't go back later to buy it. I swear!

new year's ? resolution

I've decided to try to cut back my sugar/dessert eating habit to once a week. I say try because I can't quite commit myself to vowing to once a week. That's too much pressure. I need to have that out in case of an emergency but I'm going to try to narrow my definition of an emergency too. I'm also going to start doing my pilates exercises at least four times a week. I realized recently that I've been unconciously thinking that I have the same body that I did in college and that I can eat the same way I did in college but some hard staring in the mirror has convinced me otherwise. I ate a lot of ice cream in college and I mean a lot but I was also dancing every day and going to the gym a lot too. Now I sit on my ass all day at work and then sit on my ass some more when I get home and still eat lots of ice cream. Is it any wonder that my body has changed? Some day I hope to join and attend a gym again but that's tied into many other things that also need to change so I'm going to have to settle for exercises at home for now.

But I do so love ice cream.

I'm sorry, this just isn't the weekend of blogging. I'll do much better when I'm back at work and have endless hours to kill. In the meantime you should go see Cynthia Hopkins' show at St. Ann's Warehouse. It made me so happy, you know, because it was good. I wish she were my friend. Today I saw Notes on a Scandal, which I also recommend, though not as strongly. Of course, one costs twice as much as the other but it's worth it.

It's an emergency post. I'm going out and forgot to blog even though I thought about it all day. Then neither MNS nor Ida answered their phone so they couldn't blog for me. Luckily HL still had his computer on so here's the post.

But here's what it was going to be about:

I'm back on the hunt. MNS predicts sadness, she'll probably be right.

the fall of mine

In reference to yesterday, what I was going to blog about was my knitting. I finally bought some elastic thread on Wednesday and stayed up until 2AM sewing it into the top of my legwarmers and I tried them on and they stayed up and I was all excited to wear them the next day because it's finally gotten sort of cold in New York but as I padded down the stairs on Thursday morning I could feel them falling. As I walked to the subway my legs got progressively colder until they legwarmers were finally resting on my ankles. I took them off on the subway ride to work, much to HL's chagrin. During work I sewed a second, tighter band into one warmer then went to lunch, and it stayed up the whole time! Back at work I sewed the second one and thought I'd finally succeeded. I wore them both outside and my legs were very cozy, it was lovely. I tried to call my sister to tell her of my victory but she didn't answer so she has to read about it here; I'll not talk to her about it if she's going to shun me for less important things, like tech rehearsal. I then called GT but as the phone was ringing the first warmer starting slipping down! Tragedy! But I was able to wear the second one for the rest of the evening. I must be destined to only have one comfortable leg. I think I'm going to have to get an elastic band (not just thread) and sew it directly onto my knitting. But when will I do that?

the mer-people of new york

I often use music to help me out during times of loneliness. When I first moved to New York and lived in The House of Mormons I listened to Carla Bruni, like, all the time. I only had a portable CD player and since I didn't want to carry around a bunch of CDs I was pretty much always listening to her. And since that album was all sad and it was November in New York and raining all the time it was a pretty good match. I burned that album from my sister so it always made me think of her and, by extension the rest of my family, whom I had just left in Seattle (at a good orphanage though, so that wasn't bothering me). Then when I did my internship at a certain theater I started listening to a lot of Kristin Hersh (which reminded me of my other sister because I downloaded that off of her computer when she visited me) because a lot of her stuff reflected my (sad) mood too. Unfortunately, now if I hear any of the songs from those albums I'm taken back into my memories and get, well, sad again. I used those songs to take away sadness but they didn't just take it away, I put it into them. Now they carry it and throw it back at me whenever they're played. I think the only way I'll be able to listen to those songs again is to play them a lot when I'm excruciatingly happy so as to balance them out.

So, the play on Wednesday. It's title was The Big Voice: God or Merman? First of all, I kept thinking it was Man or Merman, like some nod to George Bernard Shaw so that was already throwing me off. But when I first read the title I thought this:



Or, more accurately, this:



But what they meant was this:



Do you see why I was confused? What's really pathetic is that I never made the connection despite the numerous references to Ethel Merman throughout the show. Of course, during the show all I thought about was how bored I was and how all the songs sounded the same (dull) and uh oh, can the performers see this snide look on my face, this is a pretty small theater? I think my version of the show would have been better. As it was we once again left at intermission. HL pointed out that my values must have really dropped since I used to say that I would leave a show only if I actually found it offensive. Now I just leave if I think it's a waste of time, which is a type of offense so I don't think I've changed too much.

This is my post. I don't have anything to say. I did have some things to say but my fire was taken away by certain circumstances. We'll see about tomorrow.

you wanted to know

In my quiet homage to Miss Beta Fippel I've already pooped three times today! Three! I don't understand it. I haven't changed my diet of shredded wheat, prune juice and V8. It doesn't make any sense.

This is the week of theater for me. Here's how it breaks down:

Sunday Netflix good
Monday Theater good. Recommended, awesome beginning, but not my favorite.
Tuesday Left at intermission. The option was presented to go home and watch The Golden Girls, the choice was clear.
Wednesday We'll see. I have my doubts.
Friday I'm super excited.

It feels great to be seeing so much even if two of them are movies. I don't have anything against movies, good heavens no, they get me through my life but I'd be more impressed if I were attending five live theater events in one week. Uh oh, I ran out of time. If my internet connection is working at home I'll let you know how tonight turned out.

who the?

Wow. An email just came into the office offering the artistic director free tickets to this play. All over the website it says Even Though It's A Play, It Doesn't Suck. Thank god! There are so many things wrong with this website and by extension, the play. Poor grammar is one thing. If you can't even construct a well-written sentence on your advertisements why should I trust your play writing skills?

Here's an example:

...an outrageous new comedy told in five outrageously funny Stop right there! This play is just too outrageous for me to handle.

Here's another, which also exhibits the play's great material:

Rebecca and Sarah seem to have found the men of their dreams. But what happens when they find out that they are the subject of some really raunchy and offensive sexual fantasies? Find out as they probe deep into the male mind...as if there is that far to go.

Raunchy and offensive? Those sound like great buzz words to me! Aren't you just itching to buy a ticket? The other problem is that our theater doesn't even have an artistic director, which is clear if you look at the staff listing, which is available for anyone to look at online. Also, this play is not at all appropriate for the theater where I work. Not at all. So I don't know why the "writer/director/producer" sent it to our office nor how he got our email address without ever noticing the kind of work we do.

What kind of idiocy did you encounter today?

something like a life

I just saw David Lynch's Inland Empire and it confirmed for me why I'd been avoiding good movies. They make me not want to return to my life. I really liked this movie but I really don't like my life. After it was over I had to ride the same subway home and go to the dimly lit grocery store then back to my apartment with my roommates whom I find either stupid or disrespectful or both. I feel that there's a serious lack of happiness in my life and it's all because I saw a good movie! See what they do? Stay away. (But if you are interested in Inland Empire I recommend seeing it in the theater. This film needs to be watched in the dark and you need to be committed to watching it.) Although it obviously had an effect on me, it still had flaws. It's not my favorite David Lynch movie but Laura Dern is awesome in it. She/it actually made me cry at one point. Of course, I immediately stopped crying at the very next scene because I thought it was stupid. So yes, some flaws.

While watching the film I began thinking about my experience of watching it. And about how I experience other forms of art. I regularly like to let half my brain have an experience while the other half analyzes that experience while it's happening. I began thinking about one of my favorite books The House of Leaves. This book gave me nightmares. More eerie than frightening but nightmares nonetheless. I loaned the book to a married friend of mine and it did not have the same impact on him. I mostly read it late at night, right before I went to bed. I doubt I would have had the same experience if my loving wife had been sitting next to me. I'm sure I wouldn't have sympathized with the loneliness and fright experienced by the main character. It's not that I already felt that way but that the book was able to make me think I did. Does that make sense? I think the point I'm trying to make is that not all art is for everyone, no matter how much I want it to be or how good I think it is. That's a lesson that I keep having to relearn, I don't know if it will ever truly sink in.

My internet connection is really running slow so my steam for blogging has dimished since I tried to log on. I finally bought some new shoes. Pretty practical, not as flashy as I wish I could get but I needed a pair I could wear all the time. I saw Pan's Labryinth today. I really liked it. There were a few problems but it was still a good movie. One of the problems was my own expectation going in. It was different from what I wanted and that took me a little while to get over. But I didn't how diffferent it was going to be until it had ended so I wasn't ever really able to let go of my own idea.

I think that's it for today. Pretty bland reading.

again

Upon request:







Clearly I was exceptionally bored last night. And exceptionally something else. And in case you're wondering, that silver tubular thing in the first picture is not this, it's...something else, which I actually seem to find more embarrassing. And if you weren't wondering, well now you are.

non

It's posty time. Each thought about my blog today led to thoughts about my life which led, and is leading, nowhere. Hence putting off posting. I think it's just one of those days.

I did get a spur of the moment hair cut today though. As I was describing what I wanted done I interjected the sentence, "But I don't really need much of a hair cut." He looked at me and said, "Yes. You do." Okay then.

Maybe I'll try Nights of Cabiria again tonight. So many times I'll start a movie that I think I don't really feel like watching but by the end I'm crying or laughing or having strong feelings of some sort and I really need that to happened again soon.

beauty is in the eye of the camera phone

I often worry about the need to stay immaculately beautiful. I know this is silly since I am not immaculately beautiful and really, worrying about it only makes me dreadfully self-conscious.

So.

A little smarmy and I could use a haircut but all in all okay, right?



But look at what happens when I let that worry go:



Yikes. Closet Monster. HL said it looks like I'm wearing a fat suit...on my head apparently. As much as I like letting this guy out, which one would you be inviting to dinner? I thought so.

lame-o

Oh my god! It's 11:41 and I still haven't posted! I'm not going out now. But I'm on HL's computer and don't feel like I can really flesh out this post so this is about all you're gonna get. Here's a tidbit:

I stared and stared at a man on the subway today for my whole ride, all the way from 181st to 42nd, willing him to look at me...and love me. He didn't look up once. In retrospect, he was fuckin' ugly anyway.

see? complainy

My roommate (we'll call her Horsey) uses her blackberry as an alarm. Fine. I use my cell phone as my alarm. But you know where I put mine when I go to sleep? Next to my frickin' bed. Where does she put hers? Wherever the hell she happens to drop it when she gets home: in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the hallway, wherever. Now, Horsey teaches yoga and likes to get up super early to center herself or some such shit so she typically sets her alarm at some ungodly hour. This morning's alarm was for 4:30AM. And it rang and rang and rang. It's loud and piercing and annoying and loud. After about 7 minutes of hoping that she would turn it off I rolled out of bed, fumbled for some pants and flung my door open. There, in the hallway was Horsey's blackberry and there, sitting on the couch, wide awake, was my other roommate. I picked up her blackberry, looked at him incredulously and said, "I am so sick of this shit!" Come on! Is he deaf or something? How could he just sit there and let this fucking thing ring and ring? And it only pauses for about 5 seconds between cycles so its alarm is pretty constant. I turned Horsey's blackberry off completely, tossed it back on the table, went back to my room and only semi-slammed the door (I didn't want to induce too much drama).

Both of my roommates are deep sleepers. They basically stay awake as long as possible so when they finally do go to sleep they're pretty much knocked out with exhaustion. I don't know what kind of solution I could offer. Another time after Horsey's blackberry woke me up after ringing for several minutes I discovered that it was less than two feet from her head. And she continued to snore on. Jesus Christ.

I didn't buy the ice cream. I made HL buy it with money he owed me. So really, I didn't break my promise. I never said I wouldn't eat the ice cream.

I will not buy the ice cream

Or maybe I will.

This after I just told someone else that when she craves food that she doesn't actually need to eat to drink a bunch of water. It helps fill you up. And that's true. It just doesn't calm you down.

I had a discussion with a coworker today about how she should quit her job. Her other job. She described her job to me and told me her thoughts about it and asked for my advice. I went on and on about how she shouldn't have to do anything that makes her miserable and it's not worth staying in a job that you don't like and doesn't go anywhere. We basically had a half hour conversation where I was a complete hypocrite. I really do want that ice cream.

I keep thinking about posting on some online dating site. I just can't quite bring myself to do it. I feel like I should meet someone the old fashioned way, you know, in person somehow, doing some sort of activity, or through friends. Websites just seem, ugh. I don't have anything against them in theory, I know a bunch of people who use them, I just can't imagine it myself. I actually did post a little something once, mostly so I could read everyone else's profile. Most of the guys sounded way too great and practically flawless and seemed to have way too much confidence in themselves. I don't need that. And that obviously can't be true, therefore they must be liars. But give me some emotional flaws. His need to compliment mine. I need me some neurotic love.

my small efforts

Here's the story:

There's this building in Times Square that was once used as a police headquarters or hangout or something police related. Now it's being turned into a JC Pennys or something equally ridiculous. I walked by this building almost every day and only slightly payed attention to it. One day while walking by in an already annoyed state I actually looked at the many poster lining its walls. They were all the same and featured "druggies" partying and goin' crazy and synching belts on their arms and had some slogan like The War On Drugs Starts With You. I'm pretty sure it was actually much more idiotic than that. And it made me mad. So mad that I turned my head and spit a huge loogie right at the nearest poster. It satisfyingly slapped on my target and I continued on. Take that establishment!

family

Last night when I got home I was a little bummed so I called my sister, who unfortunately didn't answer. In my message I said, "I promised I wasn't going to come home tonight and just get high and play video games but guess what I'm doing right now?" Later, in a responding message she said, "That's okay, the other night I sat around eating cookies, reading The Devil Wears Prada." And really, aren't those about the same?

down that road

I finally did my laundry. I woke up at 7AM and headed downstairs (I can do my laundry in the basement of my apartment building). I put quarters in two machines and right after I hit the wash buttons I remembered that I was supposed to check if there was any hot water. Last night there was once again no hot water in my building. Before going to bed I decided that upon waking up, I would need to check the water before washing my clothes. Did I? No. Was the water once again frigid? Yes. Do my clothes seem cleaner? A little. Still smell a bit like oil though. I'll probably end up washing them again, which I don't really want to do. I'm afraid that one of these days the ass of the jeans will just wash away.

I've had two supposedly great movies at home for a while now: Nights of Cabiria and The Short Films of David Lynch. I've been avoiding them and instead have been focusing on Samurai 7, an anime series inspired by and roughly following Akira Kurosawa's The Seven Samurai. I'm afraid that the other movies will actually be good. I'm afraid they'll make me think; I'm not ready to do that. If I start thinking about good art I'll start thinking about my art and about how it's nonexistent and then I'll just get sad. God forbid I should actually do something about it. So that's why I'm staying away from good things. I was talking to a coworker today about dance and was telling him that I had been disappointed with things I had seen lately and wanted to make my own. He looked at me for a moment and said, "Don't. That's a bad idea. Do not try to make your own work. It's so hard out there." That was certainly encouraging.

While sitting on the toilet a few days ago I had a profound moment. And after flushing I got down to some thinkin'. Really I do some of my best thinking while on the ol' American Standard, don't you? "You know, I can see me spending my life with some other career and just appreciating art made by others. I don't have to make my own." While this idea was comforting it also made me a bit sad. On one hand I felt like I'd traversed a hurdle with which I'd been struggling. It's okay that I'm not always making art; I can take breaks. On the other hand that particular idea involved taking a permanent break from creating, something I thought I would never ever consider. So in the end it felt less like a revelation and more like a resignation.

Maybe I'm just joining the American mass.

But isn't this picture awesome? Click on it for more, I recommend opening the flash version.

says who?

MNS mentioned yesterday that she thought the trick to blogging everyday might be to write about the things that you don't tell people. That might work for her but I'm not sure what I should do since I tell pretty much whatever pops into my head to the nearest person who's willing to listen to me. This has gotten me into trouble on a number of occasions since what I often end up doing is bitching about something, or someone.

But I'm not going to start bitching about someone on my blog. That really got me in into trouble before.

But I will try to tell you some things you probably don't know (even though some of you might).

1. I brush my eyebrows with a toothbrush every morning to get them to look just so. I've been doing this for over 10 years, ever since I saw my sister do it. I'm annoyingly particular about some aspects of grooming but terribly lackadaisical about others.

2. I kind of liked the middle of the "We Are A Family" song when I watched Dreamgirls, even though it's horribly sappy. The beginning is very extra boring but I thought when it started to wrap up it was kinda sweet. I've never felt so gay.

3. I really want to make a fool of myself but I'm too afraid to do it, plus I might hurt someone.

It just took me like half an hour to come up with three measly things. Three! That's because everything else I came up with I realized that most everyone already knew. See? Open book.

My stomach is growling but I'm trying to ignore the 10+ cupcakes that are in my work's kitchen. It's becoming quite hard. They're not even good cupcakes but since they're there, I'll most likely eat them. And then feel disgusting.

randomized

Remember how I needed to wash my pants? Well, I decided that yesterday was finally going to be the day. I got home, made some pasta (even though I really wanted to each nachos but I thought I needed a change because I have literally had nachos for dinner every single day for the past 8 or 9 days, literally), noticed that the America's Next Top Model Mega-Marathon was on and promptly got high and plopped myself on the couch. "I'll do it in the morning," I thought. But here I am at work today, sitting in my black Carharts (farmer jeans, most definitely not included in my regular wear) that are too baggy.

I think I need to get out of New York for a while. Like for a week. I'm not sure how I'm going to accomplish this but I'm really starting to dislike this place, or to be more specific, the people of this place. Lately, whatever block I'm walking down I see at least two people that I want to kick. Hmm, I had to pause for a minute after that last line and think about why I wanted to kick everyone and I realized that this post is starting a thought process that I don't want to follow. Let's change the subject.

In the book I'm currently reading there's a character who's a guerrilla fighter in Greece during WWII. The chapters describing his thoughts and the activities of the group he belongs to are so far the most interesting and disturbing, which may be why I find them interesting. His group kill a lot of fellow Greeks and perform other horrendous acts of violence, all justifiable, in their minds. The idea that a person can so wholly believe that his actions are right that he can ignore the atrocities he has committed frightens me. I so want to believe that that type of person cannot exist. That within everyone, no matter how cruel they appear to be, there is always a part of the mind that says, no, something is wrong. I don't know if that's true though. Perhaps certain circumstances can erase that part of a person's conscience. I'm not even going to start making comparisons to certain persons of today, you can probably do that yourself.

the benefits of procrastination

Or ignorance is bliss.

I know that I had been putting off making a budget of my expenses versus income for a reason: it's depressing. For a while now I've been wishing that I belonged to a gym. I know I'm much happier when I routinely exercise and I'm more likely to exercise at a gym than at home. Yes, I was doing okay for a while with home pilates stuff but there are so many things to keep me from working out at home and not all of them are under my control (my roommate constantly commandeers the living room, eating and loudly watching bad television). Plus, home pilate's doesn't do much for my cardiovascular system and though it would seem like I could just jog outside, that really really hurts my knees (I'm not whining, I'm being realistic). The point is, I get better exercise when I'm at a gym. And I'm more likely to go to a gym if I actually belong to one. So I just jumped right in and figured out my expenses. And figured out I ain't joinin' no gym. I could potentially join one if I cut back on any and all frivolities in my life but since I don't have that many to begin with that means I could never go out with anyone at all ever ever ever. And a six pack isn't that important to me. I kind of would like to fill out a t-shirt at least once in my life though. So now I'm going to neurotically document and categorize (I already have the Excel spreadsheet ready, maybe I can make it into a graph somehow) every expense I make this month to see just how I spend money.

Hmm, I think this writing everyday thing might turn out to be a lot of complainy and not much funny. We'll see.

death makes me horny

I don't remember during which scene of Casino Royale that I came up with that line but it seemed pretty funny at the time. What a bore that movie was. During the opening sequence MNS leaned over to me and whispered, "Did that say her name was Betina Broccoli?" (or something like that) "I don't know," I answered, "I was looking at Daniel Craig." I think I would only have actually enjoyed this movie if he had done the whole thing nude. Or in tight underwear for the running scenes (of which there are a lot) because I don't need to see his dick bouncing around, that'll just make me wince in sympathized pain. Of course the torture scene didn't make me wince at all, mostly just laugh, because...it...is...ridiculous.

A few bloggers are starting a pot to see who can blog the longest. You have to ante up five dollars to be in and then write every day. If you miss a day you're out. The last person blogging wins all the money. There are a few rules about how much you have to write among other things but I think it'll be fun.

This is my entry for today.