Schadenfreude and Lemon Blossoms

I left my copy of Crime and Punishment in my car, and I'm too lazy to go get it, and it's raining outside anyway, and I'm not wearing any pants.

The odds are stacked against me, here.

Clearly, I'm meant to sit here smoking hookah reading about people on these Interwebz.

I got a call from the Boss Lady tonight. Apparently there's all kinds of drama going on at work. I'm not at liberty to discuss it, yet, except to say that in a few weeks, I won't have to do most of the stupid shit that I'm not qualified to do (ie. Training and Payroll). Not anymore, friends. Those tasks will be replaced by different shit that I don't know how to do.


There is a plan in the works to go on an adventure to Centralia next Wednesday with a certain mischievous fox I may or may not be in the liking of.

Photos will be taken, and pic-a-nics will be had.


The internship is good. I spent all day on our calendar (why can't I escape calendars?!) for September and October; a task that should have taken me an hour, but instead took me all day due to formatting issues and sheer technological spite.

Just wait until the Zombie Apocalypse, computer. You'll get yours.


I've had a Cruiser-class headache since 3:00 today. It's steadily climbing the ranks, and I fear that soon it will reach Battleship-class.

At least my cramps are done?

I want someone who will not be put off by my swearing, smoking, drinking, and burping.
I want someone who will laugh at the stupid shit that I find funny.
I want someone who will not only recognize Simpsons quotes when I spit them out, but be able to complete them.
I want someone who will not be disgusted by the idea of menstruation and will rub my back/belly when I have cramps.
I want someone who will have time for me.
I want someone who isn't afraid to eat new things.
I want someone who can sleep next to me and not mind how much I roll around.
I want someone who can teach me new things without being condescending.
I want someone who appreciates the feeling of sand and grass between his toes.
I want someone who cares about people he's never met before.
I want someone who passionately loves books and music.
I want someone who will go on adventures with me.
I want someone who loves kissing me.
I want someone who is okay with just sitting around sometimes.
I want someone who still believes in romance.

"Dept. of Health and Human Services Moves to Define Contraception as Abortion"

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

I'm too angry to even form a coherent argument for why this is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever read.

I hate everything.


EDIT: Man, I need to get away from the Internets already. "...the head of Bolthouse Farms Organic produce and smoothies is an asshole who has given $100,000 to fund the gay marriage constitutional ban in CA..."

Fucking hell. One of the few fruit-related foods on Earth that I'm not allergic to, and now I can't drink it.

Shit fuck.

After weeks of randomly thinking about it, I've come to the conclusion that I need to buy a flute. I'll bet you didn't know that I can play the flute. I'm actually pretty good, regardless of how much I smoke. I can read music and everything.

Oh yeah. I'm talented at totally useless and unprofitable things like that. Really, it seems like the more useless something is, the better at it I am.


In other news, I ate a piece of super garlicky pizza for dinner, and now I have a destroyer migraine and my mouth and throat are itchy. FYI, I'm allergic to garlic.

Actually, I am allergic to the following foods in their raw form:
-Apples
-Pears
-Kiwi
-Peaches
-Nectarines
-Soymilk
-All (unroasted) nuts
-Carrots
-Cherries
-Plums
-Figs
-Garlic
And probably some other ones that I'm forgetting.

This is an unfortunate phenomenon, as I'm a vegetarian.


In a totally unrelated note, I have acquired tickets for The Dark Knight for Friday night, and I'm irrationally excited about it.

And I'm gonna try my damndest to not work a closing shift on August 1 so I can go to Baltimore with basaltbasilisk and a certain boy I'm in the liking of to go see ThouShaltNot.


Brains.

So I've done absolutely nothing today besides eat, read, and nap. Friends, it is amazing.

I went to this German store, bought many German delights (tea and black currant juice and red currant preserves and Ritter Sport chocolates and black bread and Maultaschen and Butterkaese) and came home and devoured most of it, took a quality nap because I was so full, woke up and started feasting again.

A luxurious day, to say the least.


In other news, I am in the liking of someone, and it's pretty amazing. I haven't liked anyone like this in years. I'm talking getting excited to talk to him; getting irrationally excited to see him; getting excited when my arm chances to graze against his; looking forward to seeing him again liking.

It makes me not hate everything quite as much as I normally do.


He got me these comic books and I devoured them today. The art is fucking fantastic, the writing is really solidly good, and the characters are totally awesome.


Since I've worked so hard today, I think it's time for beer and hookah.

Why is it that I always end up spending a shit load of money on stupid crap that I don't need during the week I don't get paid?

$275 student loan payment
$50 on clothes
$40 on perfume from BPAL
$35 on books
$30 on gas
$30 on booze
I need more coals and shisha, which will set me back another $40 easily, but I'm trying to restrain myself until next weekend.

All since Monday.
And I don't get paid again until next Friday.

The problem is that I have a bunch of money in my checking account because I live at home, so most of what I'm making just sits and I can't stand it eventually and I go crazy and start buying pointless crap.


In other news, Calendar Project 2k9 seems to be a go. I picked this relic from my past, because I still love it, and it would be perfect for November or October.

And the internship goes well. The Boss sent out my resume for a job that I have no hope of getting, but at maybe they'll remember me now when something possible comes up.

So, I got an email from a fellow Art Conspiracy member asking if he can use one of my images in a calendar they put out every year. I wouldn't get paid for it, but no one would, and I don't think I really care. I mean, I've actually sold some of my photos before, and then felt bad about it afterwards; like I cheated someone of their moneys.

It sounds a little shady, I guess.

I dunno.

The dude provided a link to his own AC portfolio, as well as the website of the place that's actually going to be publishing the calendar.

The way I see it, what's the worst that could possibly happen?

I mean, there's really no such thing as copyright law on these Internets.

Say this dude steals everything off of my portfolio and claims it to be his own. They're tiny low-quality images, and he couldn't really do anything with them.

Meh, I'm gonna do it.
Maybe someone will see something I made and really like it, giving me a sense of validation.

#2 is more done than not. The only thing I need to do is track down one of those super-fine Sharpies to neaten everything up.

I like it!






close-up


This is turning into a relatively productive vacation, after all.


Yesterday!

Baked Blueberry and Red Currant Muffins.
Bought books: Crime and Punishment, a book of Yeats poems, and a book called Untapped, which is about the oil industry in Africa.
Failed at going out to dinner. Utterly failed. Broken-down-car-waiting-2-hours-for-a-tow-truck -without-any-cigarettes failed. Such is life.


Today!

Reading.
Hookahing.
Finished my painting.
Made some brown rice with tomatoes, zucchini, onions, lemon zest, and feta.
Laundry if I'm feeling particularly ambitious.
Kyle said we'd do something tonight, but I'm not holding my breath. I hate having friends that never seem to have time for you. I'm always the one who calls him to hang out. Kinda makes me feel like I should just say "fuck it". If he wants to stay friends, you'd think eventually he'd think initiate the hanging out process.


Tomorrow!

Internship, I think.
New Hope, maybe, hopefully, depending on his car situation.

Yesterday!

Work was pretty bad. Again, I got yelled at by old people all day, and it was actually busy, oddly enough. Who the fuck goes to the mall on July 4? I would have been drunk by 11:00 AM if I didn't have to be at work. Losers.

Anyhoo, a certain fox spectre took me out for quite possibly the single best meal I've ever had (yeah, I know, that really doesn't say a lot since I survive on a steady diet of tomatoes, veggie burgers, and coffee, but it was really fucking good). We went to Anjou for a sashimi feast and this craaaaazy Japanese ice cream with a marshmallow-like coating.

And then we went to a drinking bar, for the drink. Which left me perfectly toasty drunk and contented.

So we missed the fireworks. Fuck em. My night was pretty splendid anyways.


Today!

Day 1 of vacation from work.

Woke up remarkably hangover-less (besides my daily headache, which I get with or without boozin) and went to the farmers market with my mom, where I found the previously photographed and posted delights, along with a cornucopia of Greek treats (vegetarian stuffed grape leaves anyone?).

I started my Sargasso Experiment #2 today. It's progressed to actual watercolors, but on a smallish piece of paper. It's kind of awesome.

I'm pretty bored already, though. I've already smoked 3 hookahs today and finished up my stash of gin, so tomorrow is looking dire.

I think I'm going to conquer some huge classic book that I've never gotten around to this week like War and Peace or Crime and Punishment since I don't have to work.


Tomorrow!

I think I'm gonna break down and buy a new laptop. Or at least some new pants, as mine don't really fit me anymore even though I just went on a pants-buying-fest in May.

At least I finally lost my Freshman 30!

So I have off from work for a whole week, and having nothing better to do, I went with my mom to the Farmers Market, where I found my most favorite things in the world!!



FRESH FIGS!


No, they're not black currants. But they are red currants, which are the next best thing.


I win at Saturday Farmers Markets.

People in Conshohocken are cool enough to know that having fireworks on the 4th of July is for pussies. We have ours on the 3rd, fuckers!

I'm drunk enough to have scaled my house to get onto the roof, despite my fear of heights, to take pictures!



( +8! )


Maybe I can find a job as a roof climbing fireworks photographer!

Yesterday!
The Mercer Museum
a pic-a-nic, and
Wanted!

Today!
Work.
New moon.
Old people yelling at me all day.
Ho-bag yelling at me because she thought "Persepolis" sounded like "big titties".

Tomorrow!
Work.
Sushis.
FIREWORKS!!!
Drinking bars.


In other words, all is well.
Except for the zombies, which can apparently now write haikus, such as this gem:

You'd think I'd get full
Eating so many people.
But really, I don't.

So I've been reading about the Sargasso Sea and all of a sudden I got this totally awesome idea for a painting. My first inspiration in months and months!

I did this last night in oil pastel just to dick around and get a feel for what I'm going to do once I get off my ass and head out to buy more art supplies.





Close-up


It's kind of huge, so it was actually a lot of fun to smear all of the pastel around and start scraping it off again.

The real one is going to be in watercolor, I think. I just have to go out and buy some giant sheets of watercolor paper.

So in my painting rut, I ended up making myself a box to hold all of my imps from BPAL for myself and erehwesle_fox just to do something crafty.

I didn't take a picture of his, but here's mine!




Awesome, ja?

This was going to be a reply to erehwesle_fox, but it has become its own beast.

Speaking of Yeats, "All Souls Day" (my birthday, coincidentally) has blown my mind; though I still can't grasp poetry as a whole. I just don't think I understand the methodology of reading/analyzing/comprehending it...if there is one.

Visual art is a different species completely. You can look at something and immediately have a guttural emotional reaction to what you see: colors, shapes, composition, subject matter all have an emotional/irrational impact on us immediately upon viewing a given piece. This, I understand and love, because a person's reaction to something visual is something completely individualized to one's own past experiences and neurological connections.

Poetry, however, has so much depth to it that it's easy to get lost and see nothing and too much at the same time, like when you see a beach as a whole, rather than individual grains of sand.

There's the physical shape of the letters/words/stanzas on the page,
The words as individuals and their connotations, which makes you wonder why he/she chose those specific words as opposed to others,
The images that these words and phrases conjure in your brain, which may be totally different from what someone else will picture or feel,
Lines/phrases/stanzas as they relate to one another and the poem as a whole,
Rhyme schemes and why he/she chose to rhyme at all, let alone rhyming one word with another in a given order...

I know that people analyze and speculate as to the intentions of visual artists, but I am prepared to dismiss much of this due to my own personal level comfort with the medium and my belief that a person's individual reaction is more important than any intention that the artist may or may not have had in their creation of a piece.

However, I am not comfortable with poetry at all, and this discomfort is preventing me from having any of my own opinions, because I feel ignorant.

Are written words, in essence, the same as visual art?
Are you supposed to analyze them the same way, or does it require more depth in creating connections to various points of reference??
I don't care what some dude thinks about some painting; should I care about what some dude says about some poem???

This discomfort is somewhat comforting, as it can only mean that I'm learning something new, and that my brain isn't at the level of total atrophy I thought it was.

Mmmmmm...delicious.

"Muerte por Lifesavers"
2006

( +4 )



I can't seem to find her website, but here's an article/interview with her.
"Drop Dead Gorgeous" - The Morning News

I love the beach.

There, I said it.

Yeah, I know. I listen to spooky music and read spooky books and spend much of my day conversing about zombies.

But I love the beach.

I love the way the ocean smells.
I love the way you can taste the salt on your lips hours after you've dried off.
I love the sheer exhaustion you feel after a day of swimming in the ocean and sitting in the sun.
I love the way the sand sticks to your hands and feet, and finding shells, and the way your feet sink into the sand when the waves go in and out.

I do not love sunburn, but really, it's worth it.

If I had a zillion dollars, I would buy an island, stock it with Honest Tea and sushi rice, and live out the rest of my days, happy as a clam.

Friends, I am exhausted.

I didn't sleep for more than 10 minutes at a time last night, because I kept having to wake myself up from terrible and bizarre dreams.

I went to work with that weird tunnel-vision that comes from a sleepless night, but I was in good spirits.

Within hours, I was done for, due to everyone's collective foul mood.

So here I sit, way too drunk considering I've only had some (ok, a lot of) gin, and profoundly lonely.

My nose is bleeding for no apparent reason, and my brain won't shut the fuck up.

I think I might have contracted the zombie plague...but then at least I could feast on the brains of lesser humans (ie. the entire population of Conshohocken) and call it a night.

My only hope is to drink myself into unconsciousness and hope that I can shut down my overactive and generally unhelpful thoughts.

If it comes down to it, I trust erehwesle_fox will do the right thing, and take me out in the Children's Section in the most violent, gory, and loud way possible in order to traumatize every child in a 10 mile radius.

O HAI 8:30AM!

What, pray tell, am I doing awake this early? Well, the proper question would be "what am I doing up this late?", as I never actually fell asleep last night. I somehow managed to botch my attempt to drink myself into a blissful dreamless slumber, and ended up drinking myself into the state where I can't shut down my brain. Even though I wasn't even thinking coherent thoughts (more like 10,000 semi-thoughts), it was too much for sleep to have its way with me.

Friends, if I seem kind of crazy and glassy-eyed today, I swear to you, I have not been hijacked by the zombie hoardes.

I'm just really really sleepy.