speak to me using
carrie at purpletricycle dot com.
|
( 2001 ) ( 2002 )
( february ) ( march ) (
april )
( journal archives main )
( back to frontpage )
|
30 January 2003:
a monarch butterfly flew alongside my car for some moments, today, on a
slowish-moving segment of freeway.
what an odd spot for a bit of nature. and quite fun.
|
26 January 2003:
Funny how whenever I start working myself up about something, be it a
paper due soon during school, or Writing Something in particular, I start
getting ideas for at least one, and possibly more, different projects
altogether. Which is OK, I guess, but it betrays a disturbing aversion to
focus on the part of my brain. "Aaah! Concentration! Can't! Take! It!
Here, think about this instead, quick!"
Maybe I'll try to enter TWO scripts. If I ratchet the stress high enough
I might give myself so many ideas that I'll actually have enough to FINISH
a project for once. This year, I notice, the Nicholl people are giving a
discount on the entry fee ($20 instead of $30) if you submit a month
early.
early! me! think of it!
okay, you can stop laughing now.
|
25 January 2003:
A quite charming movie is Nicholas Nickleby -
quite, indeed.
|
24 January 2003: word
This is what I will do. I will write Little Tennessee as a
screenplay and enter it in the Nicholl screenwriting
competition. This will be the third time I have said I am going to
enter that. Insert "charm" cliché here.
|
23 January 2003: yes you!
and then there's the license plate in front of me this morning, "DRD
NOT".
okayokayOKAY!
|
21 January 2003: you! you there!
every once in a while I come across something that seems to be speaking
directly to me.
|
20 January 2003: pride (in the name of love)
I want to figure out a rational, practical, prudent approach for American
(or any free society's) foreign policy that is at the same time
encouraging of others' life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness. I haven't
taken the time yet to really tackle it. Considering how many people
surely have worked on it before (surely?), it must be harder than it
looks.
|
17 January 2003: biohazard
there existed atomic fireball candy in the office. i enjoy cinnamon
flavor even if it's artificial, so i've been partaking of the atomic
fireballs here and there over the last week or so. hotter than your
average candy, but until yesterday evening, it was all good. hot! fake
cinnamon flavored chemicals! woo! yum!
but then last night (thursday) i realized that the vague soreness in the
inside of my cheek was now on my left as well as my right. i'd thought
maybe i'd bitten the inside of my right cheek while sleeping or something,
when i noticed thursday morning that it was sore. (i have been told in
the past that i sometimes talk and/or make growly noises in my sleep, so
who knows what my unconscious might be capable of.)
but, thursday evening, it suddenly hit me, as I tested the inside of my
cheeks with my tongue and noticed it seemed a bit rough in
certain spots... AAAAA! it's the atomic fireball candy EATING AWAY THE
LINING OF MY MOUTH! AAAAA!
i mean, you can't chew those things, they're rock hard. and holding them
on your tongue the whole time does get a bit hot. so chipmunk-cheeking
them, with an occasional tongue-swirl, seemed reasonable.
but no more. i have gone greenpeace on them atomic fireball candies, you
betcha. threw away the few still in my desk drawer rather than subject my
unsuspecting officemates to them. no nukes!
|
16 January 2003: surgeon generalissima
note: caution should be used in following the belowmentioned methods for
pursuit of happiness. Combining all three ingredients at once may have
unpredictable antigravitational effects. Luckily for me, I only
experienced 1 and 3 yesterday; the office kitchen has been out of hot
chocolate for several weeks.
aftereffects of the "lemon jelly" method, "lost horizon" track 5 variant,
may include the incessant humming of "all the ducks are swimming in the
water, fol de rol de rol de" at inopportune moments throughout the day.
|
15 January 2003: space walk
ways to become so cheerful you feel lighter than air:
- listen to the music of lemon
jelly, especially the song "space walk" (track 2 on their new album
"lost horizon", thank you to KCRW for
enticing me with tracks 1 and 3 to buy the album). for added bonus
endorphins, dance around the room as it plays, of a morning, before
preparing for work.
- empty a packet of hot chocolate powder into a mug, then pour
coffee into the mug instead of water.
- receive a surprise visit in your office at work from a friend whom
you have not seen in over a month. enjoy the ensuing all-too-brief
conversation. smile involuntarily the rest of the day every time you
think of it.
|
15 January 2003:
an aforementioned tangled tangential thought: I understand the idea of
separating someone's public from their private life, but I don't
completely subscribe. This isn't really a good example of that, since at
least one law was broken (leaving the scene of an accident -- not that he
took any punishment for it), but the reason Teddy's been reelected for so
long must be that people figure "he may be a bastard, but he favors the
right policies." If a person can't see past himself far enough to do ALL
that can be done to save another person's LIFE, who is RIGHT THERE, how
can I trust him to care about anyone else in the abstract, and make truly
public-minded decisions?
|
10 January 2003: saving oneself
I happened to get into a train of thought yesterday that got me curious
about the Chappaquiddick incident, where Ted Kennedy accidentally drove
himself and a young woman off a bridge and into water, where she died, and
it took him many many hours to get around to reporting the accident
because all he cared about was himself. That had been pretty much all I
knew about it, with some vague notion that if he'd sought real help right
away he might have been able to save her. Ever-useful Google helpfully led me to this very informative site for additional
details. That site is obviously very anti-Kennedy, but seems (at least at
first perusal, and I've only read the Chappaquiddick part so far)
reasonable enough. Nothing they say strikes me as obviously inconsistent
with anything else that I've ever heard about the Kennedys.
I'm glad I don't live in Massachusetts, because then that selfish sleazy
excuse for a human would be representing ME, just because his forebears
were careful to buy up enough important people. I guess people felt sorry
for him / wanted to replace his dead brothers as much as possible, but god
DAMN. What a sad commentary on the Massachusetts polity. Surely
Teddy wasn't the sole Democratic senatorial prospect?
I'm sure he's not the only person of that low of a character to be
currently in public office. It's just that I'm amazed that even once it's
generally known that he is, he's still there. for the next
thirty-plus years, and counting.
i have some more tangled tangential thoughts that i shall ponder further
before inflicting on you.
|
10 January 2003: ha
license plate of the day, on a black Volvo, spotted while passing through
downtown: SVYRSLF
i just love plates that can be taken multiple ways; they make you think.
though hopefully not enough to distract from driving. is it a warning
about the driver? (and, about his/her driving, or personality?) is it
christian prosyletizing? or a reaction against same? or just a general
philosophy of life?
|
9 January 2003: wild kingdom
You know what's no fun? When you're taking a shower, and just as you're
shampooing your hair you happen to glance up to the corner of the ceiling,
and you see a spider crawling busily along in your general direction.
And it's not one of those spiders that you call daddy longlegs but aren't
really, it's one of those jumpy hunting spiders. Not as phobia-triggering
as some arachnids, not like those inch-wide legspan monsters that show up
in the bedroom every few months or so, but still, jumpy spiders just feel
less predictable than the pseudo-daddy-longlegs. And any spider that
shows up while you're in the shower is a bad spider.
The problem is how to deal with it. You see, the "tiles" in the bathtub
don't go quite all the way to the ceiling, where said spider is, so
washing it down would be frowned upon, and anyway it would probably get
stuck in the soap tray on the way down, and THEN what? Maybe it will just
sit at the junction of wall and ceiling long enough for me to -- oh foo,
it's coming down. stop, spider. you really don't want to come down here.
it's all wet and hot and you really wouldn't like it. here, let me spray
some water near the top of the "tile" section, and maybe a few warning
drops will give you the idea.
You see, I really prefer not to kill critters if I don't have to. It's
not their fault they freak us out. I'm sure they'd prefer not to.
Sometimes I get in less forgiving, darwinian moods, but this morning I
just wanted to finish my shower without having to worry about a confused
spider jumping on me.
Dammit. Spraying the water up there stopped it for a moment, but now it's
still coming. Ack. Now it's walking along the top edge of the "tiles".
Hey, don't wave your front legs around like that, spider, you freak me
out. I know you're probably just tasting the air or something, trying to
figure out what the heck is going on, but wave those things some other
direction. Ok, at least you're moving the other way, towards the back
corner. Hurry and finish with the soap, rinse off, last glance to verify
spider position - what are you thinking spider? you really don't want to
climb down these plastic "tiles", it's all wet and there are no bugs to
eat. both of us would be much happier if you found your way outside
again. go away.
thus I left spider, confused on wet "tiles", leaving it to fate whether
s/he would wise up and bail before my brother arrived for his shower.
such was my exciting morning.
|
8 January 2003: epiphany number one
not really a new one.
can't buy a living space, even a teeny condo, sans money. need savings.
saving a certain amount of money per month will still be slow. want money
faster. must sell some writing. or some photographs. therefore must
write something. or take impressive photographs.
in other words, must get off lazy butt. lazy because fearful, perhaps.
no fear. fear bad. too much clutter in room, in head. too many
distractions, allowed too easily. must clear.
writing in complete grammatical sentences would not be a bad way to
begin.
i have been speaking of beginning for years now. no doubt all are used to
it. high time to surprise people.
|
6 January 2003:
I think I used that "something" "joke" already last year. oops. sorry.
i shall strive for better originality in future.
today is epiphany. wonder if i'll have one.
|
3 January 2003:
"SOMETHING"
|
2 January 2003: be it resolved
hm. back to work today. tradition demands talk of resolutions.
1. Exercise at the Y at least 3 times a week (increase to 6 over
time).
2. Write SOMETHING every day.
3. Bit by bit, whittle possessions down to an amount that would ALL fit in
a small apartment (as opposed to an apartment, bits in the parental attic,
bits in the parental garage, bits in the childhood bedroom, and bits in
the grandparental garage).
4. Continue saving towards eventual home purchase.
5. Rank wish-list items and begin saving towards first one.
6. Try to minimize spending in general.
I'll probably think of a few more.
|
( 2001 ) ( 2002 )
( february ) ( march ) (
april )
( journal archives main )
( back to frontpage )
|
|