Damn You Cable TV
And damn you John Waters. This is on, and now therez no way i'll get to bed before 2am.
Top of the Morning
The best way to start the day is an IM like this:
Shaun-0: Jesus loves you so much that he asked me to bring over coffee to you... Only joking, Jesus really doesn't love you, but the coffee is for real.
Pwylla: SWEET!
Shaun-0: Double iced latte with an extra shot?
Pwylla: ROCK!
And Now for the Anomie
I was able to suppress the nausea that accompanies watching anything with Tom Cruise in it and saw War of the Worlds. Oddly now, i am left with a strange romantic nostalgia for the days when our next enemy was gonna be something icky or slimy, and distinctly not-human.
Hell, i sometimes recall the cold war fondly - when at least the symmetry was defined - the order of escalation and principle of mutally assured outcomes were pretty well understood. Zero sum gain. Nice and finite.
Until recently, it seemed multi-lateral advesaries were always just some puny noise in the background. I just gotta wonder. Is terrorism self-organization or emergence? Or both.
Obligatory Gotdamn Itz Been Hot Post
Having grown up in Tejas, i think know what "hot" feels like. Riding in the back of a rusty old pick-up truck, high noon in july, sun so directly large and overhead, stabbing your
eyes all squinty... and between the sweat, dirt and dust you can almost
feel your skin sorta blistering off when the wind blows....
And what little shade the burnt and shriveled up trees have to offer is oppressively sticky, but thatz almost better in a way than when there is wind. Because when there is wind, instead of offering a respite from the searing, it feelz more like a blast from a giant oven somewhere in northern mexico and you worry that your hair/head will suddenly burst into flames.... So, yeah, i know 'hot', in a searing, scorching sense.
But apparently, i had no clue about what broil and swelter felt like until this last week in NYC. The difference may seem negligible, but itz not. Somehow 90 degrees in New York feels worse than 105 in Texas... Texas heat assaults and abuses you, and over time tans your skin to a leathery thickness. But NYC heat cooks you straight through - like something in a crockpot. Actually, like a whole bunch of really nasty smelly somethings in a crockpot... especially when you walk down a street on trash day.
Bonus Frizz
Itz nice after all those weeks of exhausting sadness to suddenly look up and realize there are so many little things in life that rock. Did someone put Zoloft in my wine? I mean - my excitement and cheeriness is so pervasive and seemingly unprovoked itz perhaps suspicious. But even that floats away. I don't care from whence this unfamiliar lightheartedness originates - or worry how long it will last - i am just thankful.
So later - after the hormones, the full moon, the zoloft, the gamma rays from sirius minor or whatever the hell it is that is giving me these giddies wears off - i need to remember:
- wikkid 5 dolla platform shoes bought from a bum on St Marks
- frikkin fantastic nero d'avola that tastes like good sex feels
- el gato grande's hilarious love for the hunt, particularly of yarn and hair ties
- how he will purr and nuzzle up next to me just to attack my pony tail
- this amazing pleated short skirt that makes me look like a dangerously voluptuous cheerleader
- how i love my long hair and the feel of it on my shoulders and back
- all those friends who didn't quit calling or coaxing or give up all these months of my self-isolation and social flakiness
- my wonderful family who are just so... real, honest and authentic...
- what it feels like when every moment is a precious opportunity to laugh, love and learn
Accept the Mucus
Of course I hate spam. But i gotta admit that i gain some strange enjoyment from the wacko text combinations they auto-generate to decrease the spamicity of a message and sneak through the filters.
My vote for the best bayesian provoked mutation in my inbox today is 'swizzle propane'. While i'll admit that 'flesh projectile' is good, and somehow evokes for me the lyrics to Big Bottom (specifically the 'pink torpedo' line...), itz not quite non-sequiter enough for me... however, i can't wait for the chance to call someone a 'crackers and cheese account dilettante' with a contemptuous sneer.
Overclocked
Over this weekend i had one of my marathon werk streches. Think i mighta even hit a personal best on 'longest day' this time, but my brainez still pretty fried and i'm having trouble running the analytics.... still need to clear my brain cache... basically i think i went from saturday 11am until monday 7am with no sleep aside from a 1 hr nap on Sunday. And managed to still get up dressed and smelling somewhat decently by the time of big client meeting on monday afternoon at 4p... so.. whatzthat? something like a 32-hr day...
Ever since i was 17 and first got insomnia, i've had a tendency to pull all-nighters. Not for werk deadlines, necessarily - in fact, most of them up until my early 20s were personal or entertainment related. Sure, sometimes it was to study, or write a paper at the last minute, but often it was just to finish a book i couldn't put down, or to geek out on some other personal project of mine. And of course, there were all those nights simply spent partying with friends and/or having sex...
Regardless, when left to my own devices schedule-wise, i have a tendency towards a 4 or 5 day week.
In college i used it to my advantage, working midnite shifts on weekends and school nites, building up my mental endurance skills and the ability to sit in one position in front of the computer, with the TV or a CD on in the background, a cat at my feet and espresso at my side, for several nights in a row. And I can still remember the exact night that i first achieved that zen zone of complete focus and centeredness on a highly abstract concept or complex task. It was during the finals of my first sophmore semester, and itz really too personal to go too deeply into, but Heidegger was involved....
Ah i feel small and vulnerable. I've said too much...
Alles in Allgemeine
So i take back everything i said about the Queen. I mean, obviously, after the whole transit attack, et al - it was truly in bad taste... Long Live the Queen, and may her tubes remain passable and safe, henceforth and forthwith.
Worked half the day from our office in the Wall Street district, today. I love those police checkpoints. No, seriously. I do. All the lights flashing, and surly men in uniform leering at the people queueing - itz somehow oddly festive, like a carnival. Anyway, just in case you worried - i can vouch - Wall Street is safe...
So i have been pretty much getting back into the work groove thing. Just gotta say that itz great to find yourself in the middle of an all-nighter, dirty/unwashed and low on coffee, and suddenly realize that you still love your job. Maybe even moreso.
The Cat 2B Renamed has finally decided that he prefers to be called "El Gato Grande" foremost, "Sleeky D" secondly, and "Ziggy" lastly. I was largely disappointed, as I usually prefer that cats have people-type names. Itz funny to talk about them in conversations with people who don't realize that you're talking about a cat and not a human. But i respect his preferences.
And i think he's finally realized who's Alpha in this house... which is not me, necessarily... but "me-with-the-water-bottle-sprayer-thingy" fucking rules.
All Independent & Shit
4th of july fun = calling british friends and leaving messages saying "fuck the queen!"
FYI
3:30 am is possibly the worst time to run out of coffee. No time is a good time to run out of coffee, really... but 3:30 am? I mean, that shitz just sisyphean.