Monthly Archives: April 2005

Ho hum.

It’s an average Monday. Well, actually, now that I think about it, I woke up in a great mood, and not doing anything at work isn’t bothering me. So this is NOT an average Monday.

I had two friends outside the warm comfortable boundaries of the US recently, and they’re both back with stories, so that make today better.

I’ve decided that I cannot live without a set of interchangeable knitting needles any more, so I’m researching them. There appears to be three different options: metal (Boye), plastic (Denise), and bamboo. I’ve been reading up, and I still don’t know which I’d prefer. I want to buy them today, as I like near-instant gratification.

My weekend was stellar. I went to the Squatter’s Ball, where I schooled some youngsters in limbo, drank a whole bottle of Mad Dog 20/20, and jumped on a bed. You may think I made this up, but I didn’t. The only regret I have was not dressing up like an actual hobo.

Finicky McPickalot

I’ll admit it. There are foods I dislike. We all have foods we dislike. I have an ex boyfriend who hated all melon. Lots of people dislike Cream of Wheat.

I myself refuse, to this day, to eat any type of lentil. Except hummus. Weird, isn’t it? There’s no real reason not to like lentils. They’re incredibly nutritious, they’re abundant, and they’re in lots of stuff. Chili, baked beans, three bean salad …

I’ve always claimed it was the texture. As it turns out, I’m a pansy, and I should buck up.

I just finished reading an article called “The Omnivore: How to Eat Anything”. If you eat something you dislike 8 to 10 times, you’ll get used to it, and you’ll become a better human being. I can handle the idea of eating chili 8 times. It’s not that big of a deal. I think a new summer goal is to stop being picky about random food items, and become a true omnivore.


As it turns out, asking me to be here at 7 a.m. was a bit of overkill. It’s kind of fun like Christmas, in that everyone is dressed real nice, and there’s lots of food to eat.

I’m sitting at my team’s “support staff” desk, and I’ve been told that there probably won’t be many calls today.

This means that I can blog about the ASM in real time. Except I can’t see a thing from here, as the meeting takes place downstairs. Actually, this seat provides me with something I don’t usually see – if I crane my neck, I can SEE the OUTSIDE. In fact, it’s on rainy days that I lament not being anywhere near a window. I love rainy days (although I will admit that I’m usually more of an inside cat in this weather) and I love that I get to see the sky color, and the weight of the rain – in this case, on trees with tiny buds.

Blah blah blah – the point is, Donnie, that I’m going to be sitting here for the next several hours, and I am determined to enjoy this erratic day.

That will be all.


It’s 6:45 and I’m here at work, getting ready to spend my morning answering the phones during the all staff, company-wide Annual Shareholders Meeting. (That’s ASM, for those in the know.)

The upside? Maybe leaving early, and free meals. You know how I like breakfast. (I’ve already eaten more than three things.) I just picked up some brie. Brie, at 6:45.

The downside? I’m wearing a suit, I’ll be answering the PHONE, and it’s 6:45.

The upside to the downside? It’s one of those suit-jacket/short skirt deals, so I look hot as hell.

Beverly Hills

The new Weezer song “Beverly Hills”, chosen from the CD to be the first radio hit, is a piece of crap wrapped in decaying spinach loosely bound with human hair.

Are you grossed out? Did your stomach turn a quarter turn? That’s what I’m going for, because that’s how I felt this morning listening to this song. I wish Kyle Carter was around. I’d like to hear what he has to say about all this, as he is the biggest Weezer fan I know.

I do love Weezer. I even found Maladroit to have charming qualities. Even when they’re more rock than angst, they’re still a good band. This new song is awful. There’s some of the Maladroit rock feeling, coupled with a catchy sing-a-long chorus (kind of), but the rest of the song feels like they went to the studio, pounded out those three chords over and over, and Rivers Cuomo made up shit that didn’t even rhyme, and didn’t really sing it, but didn’t put any effort into making it sound like he meant it.

Plus what’s this crap about Beverly Hills? I can’t relate to that. Bah.

(Lyrics are posted as the first comment.)

It’s Getting Better All the Time

As I left my apartment this morning, I turned around to lock my door.

That’s when I got paint all over myself.

Effing management painted early in the morning, and didn’t have signs up the night before, so I had no idea that my DOOR would be covered in PAINT.

On the upside, my day got better and better from there. I didn’t fall into a hole, or have a bus splash water up on me.

The Most Romantic Nonromantic Night Ever

Back when Millennium Park was just being built, I met up with [censored] to hang out. We’d been having trouble acting normal around each other, which is natural when you’ve both separately broken each other’s hearts.

We walked through the park and up to the Pritzker Pavilion, then in pieces. The shapes that make up the pavilion are jutting curves of metal, and in the moonlight of this particular evening, the shapes made the whole place look like a robot dinosaur graveyard. Soft yellow light cast down from street lamps, and traffic from Lake Shore Drive made a swooshing noise in the background. It was a cool night, so there were many shivers of delight and breeze.

We walked among the curves of metal, navigating the construction site. We’d walk together, then walk apart, and come upon each other turning a corner. The night, atmosphere, and setting were enough to make one weak in the knees, and I thought that maybe a night so ephemeral and beautiful might finally be the salve for the scars of a breakup. All together it was nearly a dream.

I know we were both thinking of a song called My Favourite Chords by the Weakerthans. The whole night still feels mildly tragic, but the most awe came from knowing we were thinking about the same song.

The reason I thought of this was that I was wearing a skirt a lot like the skirt I’m wearing today.

Walkie Talkie

Hey – anybody out there feeling a little bit guilty? Did you maybe do something this weekend you’re feeling a bit abashed about? Do you feel that all you need to do is maybe just do something positive and selfless, and you’ll be back on karmatrack?

If that’s the case; or if you have some change in a jar that you could cash in, but it’s like bonus money and if you gave it away it wouldn’t affect you; or if you have bills laying about that you want to get rid of …

My friend Angela has signed up to do the Avon walk in Chicago, and is raising money for breast cancer research. And training to walk really really far. And she needs to raise some money to do it. It’s an admirable undertaking, and a tax writeoff.

Post a comment with your name (or an easily recognizable nom de plume) if you’re down.

Click here to access the online donation, and see a picture of Angela and her cute grandma. Post a comment if you don’t do onliney money stuff.

For Pete’s Sake.

I am having one of those little freakouts that happens when something involving technology and finances goes wrong.

It’s not that I don’t know my PIN, it’s just that it’s a natural reaction when I see a keypad, to press the correct four digits. Somehow, over this weekend, I tried too hard to remember it, and now I’ve totally screwed everything up in my brain and I can’t remember what it is, and I don’t have any cash, and I’m generally grouchy about it, since it’s my fault. Rar.