Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Being the only person in the universe at school right now (so it seems at this 12:37 a.m.), here are some ways I've found to keep myself company while I record from brain cells:
1. drink carbonated beverages and chew gum (1500 mLs and 32 pieces of gum later I really gotta pee and I've run out of gum)
2. pretend I'm in jail: pace the floor, do a series of push-ups, pull-ups and faux-boxing moves.
3. see how far I can spit.
4. practice my rap song.
5. clean out the fridge.
6. eat everyone's food in the fridge and decide I will say it was bad so I threw it all out (see above).
7. try to figure out why my iTouch isn't compatible with the ipod docking station.
8. make a to do list: a) no beer drinking on tuesdays b) feed the fucking cat cause karma is a total jerk face c) get passport.
9. write apology letters to all the people I'm mean to.
10. have extensive food fantasies: full course hot meals. think about chicken.
11. explore positions that make my limbs fall asleep.
12. braid my hair.
13. draw pictures of unicorns and puppies and big fluffy duvet covers.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Today: Memories of my purple headed baby and my scariest (and hence last) birth.
Rest assured: he's alive.
June 26th, 2009
Best things about Lew:
1. His insane energy and the glistening sparkle in his eye
2. His hair
3. How he greets absolutely everyone he sees
4. His love of accessories (shoes, shades, bags, underwear)
5. His general immaturity
6. His love of cake, chocolate and gum (ALL inherited from his mother.)
7. His unrelenting curiosity (read: that he gets into absolutely everything and deconstructs it.)
8. His fearlessness.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
1. work for 14 hours. A few days in a row. feel beat down.
2. get drunk for the 2nd time in one week. get in a fight. feel like an alcoholic.
3. see 11:11. have seen 11:11 everyday, sometimes twice daily for days on end. fuck you 11:11. Decide wishing on things is for re-tards. vow to never wish again. feel hopeless.
4. almost adopt a very baby skunk. Deliberate for a good 15 minutes. Convince yourself you could do the surgery to remove the stink gland (and by You, mean yourself). regret not taking the baby skunk home. feel forlorn.
5. Book tickets to Rome and Greece in the same week. Realize you will be spending nearly a month of the summer not with your family. Feel depressed instead of excited.
6. learn how to silent strum a guitar. Decide instead of being lonely for eight hours in the lab tomorrow you will play guitar while recording from neurons. feel pathetic.
7. miss your kids. miss your kids so badly. miss your kids too much. Look forward to waking up at 5: 30 a.m. on saturday morning with them. Wonder what the point of being is if you're not with the ones you love.
8. eat some ham. feel full.
9. feel apathetic toward capitalization. feel like a lazy jerk.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Maggots. Especially ones that have a trajectory.
But saying "Hey, I found GRUBS in my sink" feels a little less like a disgusting mind fuck.
Is this one of the signs of the coming of God? Hmmm.
I'm going to go read the Bible. And watch for other omens.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Some things I am endlessly questing for (the number following the statement indicates the duration of years I've been searching):
1. the perfect pair of jeans; I currently own three non-perfect pairs, and just bought a new hopeful today. (working equation for the perfect pair (1.5): Awesome jeans = tightness + ideal length-ness + bum enhancing-ness (not squished/flattened) + look just right-ness every time + broken-in-ness.)
2. the perfect hair style: right now I just wear a hat. I'm too ashamed (1.5).
3. Knee high boots that I can wear with EVERYTHING (including nudity; 2).
4. Larger boobs. Working recipe: Chocolate bars. And pastries. And Cake (2).
5. the most timeless/romantic love story (1).
6. A killer suit (1).
7. New stylin' specs (4).
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
The Hair Straightener
I will have straight hair
I will have more friends
The sky will be bluer
I will smell like chocolate
Water will taste like beer
My underwear will magically always be fresh
Babies within a 50 mile radius will instantly stop crying
Enlightenment will finally be achieved by mankind
I have two less friends (they think puffy hair is rad. I disagree. Now they avoid me in public.)
I can't see the sky cause there is hair in my eyes.
My feet smell more. Achieving straight hair makes me sweat.
The babies. The babies cry all the time. They just don't ever stop.
I still have to do laundry.
My electricity bills are higher.
I'm 5% more convinced Lew will be gay.
I am satirically morose.
Even beer doesn't taste like beer anymore.
But my hair is straight.
Conclusion: $45 did not magically change my life.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Example #1: Doing stuff. Don't feel like it. Lying on the couch is so much easier. And while I'm at it, I might as well just close my eyes...for a minute...just a minute.
Example #2: Being around people: meh. Fuck off.
Example #3: Eating: really? I have to? Again? So dull.
Example #4: This morning I thought: wouldn't it be nice if I just didn't have to poop. Ever? With that extra 30 seconds a day I could write letters to the government to lobby for my giant Arctic Ice Machine. Or not.
Example #5: I look like shit. And I don't care.
Example #6: A strong, almost irrepressible desire to litter.
Example #7: Yesterday I almost wanted to challenge myself to an entire day without saying the "eff-word". I'm that bored. And boring.
Postscript: I have so far said the "eff-word" 38 times today. That's a rough estimate. And I'm pretty sure one sentence contained only the "eff-word." Fucking hell. I suck.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
I think that bailing out GM (again) is about as good an idea as the one suggested by my friend to slow down global warming (and save the polar ice caps): build an ice machine up north and make a giant floating slushy! Fuck recycling. I'm going to start making ice cubes and mailing them to the arctic.