Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in The Mighty Rando's LiveJournal:

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Sunday, February 8th, 2009
6:40 am	Terror On the 18th I was ridiculously late to work, to the extent that when calling me failed to wake me up they actually sent co-workers to my house to find me. Thus, some would say that the fact it's taken me this long to have irrational paranoia about being late is somewhat overdue. I checked my phone and alarm clock four times last night. Worry kept me awake. When I finally slept I had a series of nightmares about being late. A friend of a friend was driving me somewhere that I was late for, through the pre-dawn darkness. It was in a convertible and I did not have my seatbelt on, which was important cuz he was taking turns on two wheels through the woods. We crossed about eight train tracks, all with their lights blinking, one with the gate actually down. At most of them I could look left or right and see the train barreling at us. We finally got on a freeway briefly, however the exit took us into a man's basement. We had to drive up the stairs and out his side door to drive down his driveway and back into the dark woods. We finally stopped to sleep at a house of someone he claimed to know; I was too tired to care. I crashed in a bed in the basement, I don't know where he slept but it was upstairs. I woke up to the outrage of the house owner asking who the hell my companion was. They hadn't found me yet, I could just hear the friend of my friend trying to convince the homeowner that the was, in fact, the man's cousin, John Basedow. About the time he started explaining that his manager was sleeping downstairs I scrambled for my clothes, intent on getting out of there. Mercifully, I was woken up at this point to the sound of a man's voice screaming on the street outside my apartment. Convinced that I had overslept again and that my co-worker had been sent once more to my apartment, I grabbed for my phone in a panic, wondering how it had gone silent again. Fortunately, I saw that it was 4am, an hour before I actually did plan to wake up. The screaming man was not for me. Relieved I fell back asleep. My alarm set off another heart attack at 5, when it was supposed to, and I stumbled into work. Here I sit now, blogging. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, December 15th, 2008
11:00 am	Nothing speaks French that isn't mystical. Weird dream. It involved bunny-hopping from my parent's house to my grandparents' house. Made good time, too. And there was a new season of Avatar. Best part. This girl was given a skull. It had information, and was trying to trade it to her but she was utterly unimpressed with a talking skull, so it was a hard bargain. Once it offered to translate something for her to appear useful. "German? The best a mystic skull can offer is to translate German?" "Hey, it's not like it's French. Nothing speaks French that isn't mystical." The tone of "duh" in it's voice was really what sold the line. Then there were these... zombie roller skaters who were apparently called Soulpackers. So as I ran past them I screamed, GO PACKERS! (Comment on this)
Thursday, December 4th, 2008
5:13 pm	The Best Things in Life are NOT Fat-Free I'm frighteningly easy to piss off. The most recent culprit? Scams involving the phrase 'fat-free'. Wandering the aisles of the supermarket, looking for my next impulse buy I'll later regret, and I see New England Clam Chowder's on sale. Not gonna be as good as I can get in actual New England but I'll survive, so I start stocking up on cans. And that's when I see it's evil twin next to the display. Fat-free New England Clam Chowder. For those of you not from New England, it's supposed to be made with creamy milk and lots of butter. Making such a dish fat-free is an utter contradiction in terms. It's going to taste awful and I'm sure it's still awful for you. If you want to eat actually healthy, get chicken broth or something. If you go for one of these half-assed attempts, you're getting the worst of both worlds. It tastes terrible, and it's still not good for you. There are a few things that the diet version of makes some sense. None spring to mind, but I'm sure some of them exist. Oreos? No. Do not dunk your low-fat oreos into your skim milk. If you want a healthy snack, grapes. Nuts. There's tons out there you can eat that's actually healthy. It's not chocolate, but it actually tastes good. Why are people constantly fooled by this? Diet soda has long been my bane. People convince themselves that it tastes the same. I'm willing to admit that there are a few genetic freaks out there with odd tastebuds that actually prefer the taste of diet soda. Otherwise, it's full of carcinogens and just because it doesn't have as many calories as actual soda doesn't make it healthy. Drink water. If you don't like the lack of taste of water, there are any number of cheap flavored waters out there. Fruit2O is my personal favorite. Tune in next week for another exciting episode of, what's pissing me off this time? (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 14th, 2008
4:15 pm	Here's how lazy I am in my dreams. I was sitting on my couch, watching TV. I hear a sound from outside so I look out the window. Bombs are falling all over the city, blowing buildings up. I look back at the TV. The weather channel is still playing uninterupted. I figure, if I were supposed to evacuate, there'd be a message or something, right? Someone would have called me? I'm sure I'm fine. So I sit back on my couch and go back to watching. A few minutes later I glance out the window again, and now I notice a giant robot destroying the city. Sigh. Now I have to do something. Because, did I mention, I'm a power ranger. Neon Green. So me and the other five rangers form into Megazord. I'm the left arm, which makes me in charge of the shield, so I spend the entire fight getting hit by the other robot's sword. We finally win and Megazord turns back into our motorcycles. By this point, since I'm up anyway, I decide I might as well keep the world safe so I go patrolling the streets, on my neon green crotch-rocket, wearing my neon green leather jacket. Then the dream shifted and the PS memory card I've been waiting for finally arrived in the mail. I was very excited and wanted to go try it immediately so I woke up so I could. I sat up in bed and literally stared at my hands, wondering where it had gone. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, July 16th, 2008
11:57 am	Dream dream. Dreamt that I was on the show 'last comic standing'. I oddly remember the start of my routine really specifically. Here's what I remember. I actually started with a semi-serious anecdote, basically just saying I'd just returned from seeing my newborn cousin for the first time. Did not connect with the audience the way I'd hoped. "I love babies. They're the coolest toys ever. They keep learning new tricks and you don't even need to update them on the internet. If you break them, they fix themselves. If you really break them, you can just make a new one. I'm great with kids. This terrifies a lot of my friends. From what I've already said, you can probably figure out why yourselves. (that's the bit that got my first real laugh) I'm good at thinking like a small child. Something about how I'm self-centered, scream a lot, and am easily distracted by small objects." I think I went on for another paragraph or so and then my time was up. I didn't bring the house down, but after I relaxed and just went with the flow, I started doing better and at least I didn't totally bomb. What's weird, I woke up and went right back to sleep, which usually wipes dreams from my memory, but this one really stayed with me in strange detail. (Comment on this)
Friday, July 4th, 2008
2:26 pm	Most people know the expression, "Everyone has their price." How many people out there have felt the very disconcerting sensation the day you realize that this actually applies specifically to you? (Comment on this)
Monday, June 16th, 2008
12:32 pm	I always knew words have power. It only just occured to me, so does silence. Melodramatic dream last night. I was some kind of superhero. A volcano was going to destroy a village and I needed to stop it. My girl made me promise that if it got to the point of no return, I would run away before I wouldn't have the chance to run. I couldn't promise because I knew I could stop the volcano, and I'd survive in the end, but if I didn't stay at it until the very last moment there wasn't even a chance for the village. So she went away crying and I stood there, holding off the lava, confident that I was strong enough to do this and save everyone. And my phone rang and woke me up before I saw how it ended. Odd note, my cousin just texted me the exact same minute I texted him. Almost to the second. We'd both hit 'send', and then a few seconds later got the other's message. It was odd cuz I thought it was a really odd and immediate reply to what I had said. (Comment on this)
Sunday, June 1st, 2008
10:10 pm	Drunken jerks Did not play kickball tonight, I had to work. I did manage to make it to the bar after. Honestly, it was a good night for me. Did four shots, and I'm a lightweight so that knocked me for a loop. 3 wise men, Jaeger, Tequila, Burboun. (Shucks, one of my goals was to get drunk enough that I lost count). It was an eventful night. Met a lovely girl named Jules, we commiserated about our shared fate as New York assholes and spoke together in japanese. Had a nice conversation with a guy I thought didn't like me much, buried the hatchet with a friend I'd fallen out with. And then there's this. Some random guy from another team, I met him and he seemed nice. Then he was trying to do chin-ups on one of the crossbars of the awning. He had to climb the scaffolding to get up there. So after he lets go, I leap from the ground and grab the crossbar, do a few chin-ups myself, and backflip off. Totally show him up. Later, since I thought we were cool, I sat with his team and chatted. However when I flirted with his girlfriend it seemed to piss him off, because he and his friend got up and cornered me. I'm not gonna flat out say that I'm sure I could have taken either alone, but with the two of them ganging up on me, my chances went from slim to none. The first guy grabbed me from behind and put his forearm across my windpipe, cutting off my air. I was more than a little drunk and all of my attention was on making sure I could inhale and exhale at least a little. A few of my friends noticed and started over, but by that point his girlfriend called him a dick and made him let me go. Later I sold him on some fake apology, cuz I was a little worried about being jumped as I left the bar. However the outpouring of support from my teammates, and friends on other teams, warmed my heart. Also I made it home safe. Yay. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 14th, 2008
10:34 am	President's Fitness Challenge Collosal Waste of Time. And I'm not just saying that cuz it put me in the 15th percentile for my age/gender. I mean that's one reason I'm saying it but not the only one. That was pathetic. I wake up early after working late the night before to go to my gym for a fitness test thing. I think maybe it will be cool. If nothing else I felt like if I skipped it I'd be lazy. I should really, really just have stayed in bed. The gym did not care at all about the normal people who showed up to take the test. This being DC, it started with twenty minutes of all the people in charge of this event talking about how great they were and how lucky we were to be in their presence. They gave each other awards and accolades and big rounds of applause. I was glad I hadn't warmed up before hand, because if I had I would have tightened up. But I'm actually getting ahead of myself. We were supposed to show up at 8am. There was nothing in the flyer saying where to go, in fact I had to assume it was even the gym itself. I sent an email asking which room specifically we should go to and in the reply I got a list of the various places in the gym that things would take place. I just figured I'd show up at the right time and someone would tell me. Nope. The few gym staff I asked didn't seem to know. The people from the Challenge weren't sure either. Didn't really seem to matter, individually there was more press, more gym staff, and more Challege people than actual participants anyway. At one point someone made the big announcement that we were supposed to "come in". Seeing as we were already inside the court where everyone was gathered, I'm not sure where else I was supposed to go into. I, like everyone else, just stayed where I was in a state of mild confusion and this seemed satisfactory. At this point, while complaining with a very lovely, equally snarky woman named Ana, I voiced my hope there would be a sarcasm event. So finally we put up with the self-lionizing speeches, and a woman I'd have nothing against if she wasn't so peppy has us jazzercise to warm up. It was a decent warm-up, but when she was done I did a few of my own stretches afterwards cuz it felt kind of incomplete. Anyway, we were told there would be trainers at each station telling us how to take each test. This did not turn out to be the case. Oh but before I forget. Someone from The Biggest Loser showed up to talk. Lots of pictures were taken of him. We were informed that he had managed to lose 130 pounds, and then he came up to the microphone. He... was about four feet tall. Where the hell had this guy managed to put 130 extra pounds? He wasn't very scrawny this morning as it was, and he couldn't have been much more than 130 then. When this guy was double that he must have looked like Violet Beauregarde after chewing the gum. Thinking this during his speech which I'm sure was quite inspirational, I had to keep chanting in my head, "Don't tease the fat kid. Don't tease the fat kid." At one point he looked straight at me for about two full sentences. I'm sure my face was in the weirdest contorsion ever as I tried so hard not to laugh. Finally he looked away before I broke. So yeah. No one was helping me. Or any of the normal participants, for that matter. All anyone cared about was the Loser and this guy with a prosthetic leg. Which hey, I'm down with overcoming adversity and all that good stuff, and I'm glad no one was taking pictures of me doing pushups, but c'mon. The man does not need all eight trainers surrounding him. Someone c'mere and tell me when I can stop doing sit-ups. Anyway I ran first. I liked the trainer in that room because she didn't treat me like an idiot like a lot of people did. I swear, the guy who gave me directions. I guess he thought I was dumb cuz I didn't know where to do my aerobic test. NO ONE TOLD ME. So he tells me the running room. And I see a giant sign at the end of the hall that says "RUNNING ROOM". I think I can handle this. He doesn't have such confidence in me. "It's the green room down at the end of the hall, see?" "...Yes, I do see. The one that says running room." "Look Chloe is entering now. CHLOE! This guy needs help finding the running room!" "...Die in a fire." "What?" "Nothing." So yeah I do the running test. And I would have done better but I don't run on treadmills as well as I run on ground. I don't like having to divert attention to reading a computer screen and pushing buttons every time I feel like sprinting briefly. So yeah I finish the 1.5 mile run and the lady (who really was nice the whole time, don't judge her just by this) is like OKAY NOW GET YOUR PULSE. So I'm all rushing to do that, I find my vein, I find the beat, I look around until I see a clock, wait for it.... start counting, wait until the red line sweeps past two numbers, multiply by six in my head... there! Got my heart rate! I go to put it down on my sheet... oh. They don't need heartrate. They need the time it took me to run. By this point the treadmill has stopped showing me the time it took me to run. DAMMIT. So I guessed. I know it was between 10 and 12 minutes. Again, don't judge me. I'd've been faster on asphalt. Go to the push-up/sit-up station. The trainer I finally badger into helping me, instead of standing around watching the one-legged guy, is annoying and keeps talking to me, he probably thinks he's encouraging me. He really just made me want to hit him. And the way they had of making sure you did crunches right was weird. I've studied crunches, and I'm pretty sure that I was doing them wrong. It wasn't fun, or easy. I gave up on the push-ups just to get this guy to finally be quiet. So then flexibility. Again, I suck. Which is annoying cuz i'm really flexible on so many axes, but the one spot on my body I collect fat is my giant gut which gets in the way of sitting down and touching my toes, which is the only measurement they care about. Also, I have long legs, so I was starting back further than most people do. UNFAIR SAYS I. Anyway. This trainer was a lot nicer. He talked too much too but at least it was about something moderately interesting. Actually it was pretty cool. He does mixed martial arts and he was telling me an interesting lesson in self control. Apparently he's known for an odd trait. He has the softest arm-bars of anyone he knows. Because, he says, you don't need to wrench the guy's arm out of its socket to prove you won. If the guy is mature, he'll realize he can't get out and he'll just tap out. So don't be a jerk and break the guy's arm. Give him the chance to bow out without either of you actually getting hurt. The flip side, of course, is the guy who loses. Don't let your pride get in the way, and make you force the other dude to actually hurt you. He doesn't want to. Be mature and admit that you've simply lost. Tap out, and try again. Don't be a baby and see it through to the painful finish. Maybe you feel like you're a bigger man because you didn't give up until it hurt too much to keep going. But the guy fighting you doesn't actually want to hurt you. Don't make him. So I learned two lessons today. The first was in self-control. And the second was never to show up for a President's Fitness Challenge again. (Comment on this)
Monday, April 21st, 2008
11:18 am	Come, Victorious Knights of Justice! To Castle Camelot! Earlier I was sitting on my couch, staring off into space, waiting to wake up. For some reason my thoughts turned to a cartoon I used to watch when I was 10. Five minutes later, I'm watching King Arthur and the Knights of Justice on YouTube. God I love the internet. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, March 11th, 2008
11:13 am	What happens in my dreams, stays in my dreams. Not really, since I'm posting it on the internet, but the setting was Vegas so it seemed like a nice quote. Someone I work with was a Vegas entertainer, complete with white tiger and scantily clad assistant. At one point he went somewhere and the tiger was in the care of someone else, but people kept taunting him and provoking him, and the girl watching him couldn't stop him. Every time someone came close to calming the beast down, someone else would pull some stunt like setting their ringtone to gunshots, skidding their phone along the ground to the cat's feet, and having someone call him. Fortunately in the end no one was really hurt. The owner showed back up, and explained that apparently the trick was to scratch the tiger's head from the back to the front, not front to back, and that calmed him down. I think I had cousins in the hotel. Seeing as I have about fifty cousins that's just statistically likely. Okay that was that dream. I just remembered another. I looked like Zac Morris from Saved by the Bell. I needed to get somewhere but the road was blocked, so I took a detour. I somehow ended up at the house of this girl, and i felt some strange connection to her, and I got into her house and we started talking. And then... something happened to her... and some... witch or alien or something took her. And then... some people broke into the back of the house, which had this weird giant lock metal door thing, and it turns out this wasn't the girl's house, it was some secret headquarters of the people who fight aliens (I've watched too much torchwood). And to my suprise they recognized me. Turns out, I had dealt with these people before, the girl and I had fallen in love, but SOP they had wiped my memory of the event (definitely too much torchwood). Hence my feeling the strange connection. So... I think I was doing something to help get the girl back. Then the dream was over. So after both dreams, I wake up, and I decide to write down what had happened. So I walk down the hall, I sit at my computer, I see that I've woken up at 4am, and it's odd cuz I went to bed at 1am and I feel really refreshed. I open up Livejournal and I start typing but nothing is appearing on the screen. I wonder why, and I realize my eyes are closed. So I open them and... there's my bedroom ceiling. I was still dreaming. Now it's 11am and I'm really awake. Or is this all just a dream, too...? ... Nope. (Comment on this)
Friday, March 7th, 2008
4:55 pm	Today was a day that couldn't possibly get any worse, and now there's you. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, February 14th, 2008
4:49 am	Just to make your day complete you could get baked into a pie... Dream last night. Of the Magic Schoolbus. Live action. Let me tell you how terrifying it was to be in a bus while real live non-cartoon people tried to drive through a rainspout. The 'theme' was disaster areas. Katrina, some places in Japan hit by a typhoon, and some wartorn places in Iraq. We went around helping to shift rubble and stuff. Ended up having dinner at McDonald's. We were still there when the guy at the counter announced Last Call. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, February 12th, 2008
10:48 am	I just spent twenty-two hundred dollars on a headache. Just got back from signing the lease on my new apartment. That was the easy part. Now I have to... move. I have stuff. So, so much stuff. My stuff has never scared me before. It does now. Now that I have to go through it, throw away about three quarters of it, shove the rest into boxes, and move it four blocks down the road to my new place. I've never really moved before. My parents moved us to a new house when I was a year old. I had an apartment in college, moved back home til I got a job, then stayed with my sister for two weeks until I got this place. I was always moving either into or out of my parent's house. I feel like it counts less. Now I need to please two landladies. The last day I rent this place is 2/29; the first day I rent the new place is 3/1. Obviously I'm not going to move everything at midnight. So which way do I go? Do I move in a few days early? Move out a few days late? Will either or both of them charge me for that? Every other time I've moved, all of my possesions could basically fit in two large suitcases. This is no longer the case. I have swords. I have a 26" LCD. I have pots. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the Camel, I have pots. I forsee long, lonely, crying hours sitting on my kitchen floor, trying to cram pots and pans inside each other like those hollow egg-shaped russian dolls, crying when the box I'm trying to fix the resultant, Frankenstein-esque mess into tears, the whole contraption rattling like the chains of a ghost in the dark. Burning blazes, I have a lot of stuff. Books are easy. They stack and I know I'm keeping them all. My swedish exercise ball? My printer? Table? Futon? Desk? Who am I going to get to help me? I have trouble finding time to hang out with my friends when I'm not asking them to do heavy lifting. Who is free on a Wednesday morning? The standard bribe of beer and pizza might not work. So much to do. No time at all. I move in less than three weeks, and i'll spend nine days of that in Utah. Which I haven't packed for yet. And I'm really, really hungry. Erm... plus side, I got my performance review yesterday (which I should have gotten in december but whatever). Out of a potential 5% raise, I got 5%. Yay! (Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 6th, 2008
5:12 pm	The platypus gives evolution the middle finger They're a strange mix of mammal, bird, and reptile. Throughout their territory, average adult size varies dramatically for absolutely no logical reason. They are poisonous, egg-laying mammals. The poison, by the way, is only part of the male physiognomy, and production increases during mating season. It is speculated (and with platypi, everything is speculation, the scientist equivalent of "wtf?") that the males use these poison barbs (situated at their back feet, by the way) in dominance contests. I will pause for a moment and let the image of two platypi throwing down over a fine duck-billed lady sink into your head. Now let's turn to the females. One of five species of mammal that lays eggs. They still nurse their babies, but they do not possess teats. Instead they basically sweat milk, and there's a built-in trench on their bellies that collect it so their young can lap it up. By the way, female platypi have two ovaries. In every known case, only the LEFT one functions. Every. Known. Case. Seriously? How? Why? The platypus is susceptible to pollution. Nevertheless, they seem to show no actual desire to spend time in clear, pure rivers, rather than much more polluted ones. Like sharks, platypi can sense electricity. They can actually feel, from a distance, the electricity generated by the contraction of muscles. Could there possibly be an animal more awesome than the platypus? Do we really need to reach outer space to find strange, bizarre creatures clearly alien to all other known life on earth? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, January 27th, 2008
3:52 pm	I can't say this to her face, so I'm going to pretend I'm talking to her here. Sit down. Shut up. Listen close. I do not answer to you. I do not explain myself to you. I do not wait for your permission or your convenience. You do not give me orders. You do not threaten me. You do not blame me. You do not yell at me. Yes, I am ignoring you. The first reason is that you're acting like a four-year-old I've just told to go to bed. The second reason is that I'm busy doing my work, in contrast to screeching like a harpy. Telling me that you'll forgive me is not an apology, and an apology is what you owe me. I have been doing this job ten times longer than you have. I have kept my job while the person in your position has changed four times. I know how to do your job better than you do, and despite your constant insistence that you know my job better than I do, you are mistaken. I have sympathy that you are having a bad day. This is not an acceptable way for a professional adult to react to a bad day. You are clearly neither professional nor adult. Grow up and join the real world. I'm still waiting on that apology. Current Mood: go ahead and guess (Comment on this)
Friday, January 25th, 2008
5:27 am	I'm gonna be late for the doctor but this is more important Wow such a dream. oddly three dreams connected by a common thread. My friend Coon had joined Facebook and entered a contest, where you had to write a story entitled "How to teach someone back." She told me to watch her entry and write a comment about how great it was so she's win. But later she said that she'd done another that was better under a differente screenname so I should comment there instead. I never saw the second one. The thing is each story I saw as though it was an animated movie despite the fact that it clearly claimed to have been typed out. Coon's was about a class that was supposed to meet on the second floor of a library but ended up meeting on the bottom floor instead, and it was a group of people discussing the evolution of someone's odd nickname. I don't remember every step of the process but at one point someone simply misheard someone like a game of telephone. Then I was browsing and I saw someone else's entry. They decided to animate "how to teach someone's back" so it was an Owl in a mortarboard in a tree, holding a stick in its wing, teaching a monkey who held onto the trunk with his back to the owl. Get it, the owl was teaching the monkey's back. And the the monkey ran through the trees and I saw leaves and birds. Oddly pretty. AND THEN. The best one. Two people were talking about how one of them needed a paper bag. Overhearing, a puppy decided that she'd seen a bag on the beach the other day, so she went and got the bag and brought it back, but the humans who didn't know she was going to do this had gotten their own and moved on. Not finding them, the puppy left the bag where they had been and wandered off. MEANWHILE. A homeless woman who lived on the beach in a house she drew in the sand came back from gathering cans. She'd gotten two that day. Putting a stick through the drinking hole of one, and then putting the other can upside down on the other end of the stick, she refered to her creation as her husband and ordered him to build a fire. HOWEVER. When she went to find her paper bag that she carried cans in to be recycyled, it was GONE. And despite the fact that the puppy had carried it about two blocks away, the homeless woman wouldn't leave her 'house' without it so she spent days digging in the sand looking for it before she died. I went and told Coon about this person's entry and she was like... oh screw it, I'm never topping that story. And she gave up. What amuses me most is, I woke up at 5 with my alarm, reset it for 5:30 and went back to sleep. It felt like a very long dream but it was all within that half hour. The difference between dream time and real time amuses me. Now I'm off to my physical. I wish I'd remembered to confirm yesterday when they'd been open cuz I'm gonna be pissed if I show up and I got the date/time wrong, though I don't actually think that happened. But surely they'd've called me if it was this morning? Don't doctors always confirm? (Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008
12:56 pm	Babysitting I'm off to babysit. Yay, it's been too long since I've hung out with a baby. Seriously they're awesome. I love watching them watch the world, suprised at a miracle every few minutes, like sunlight or linoleum or finding out how much of whatever's in their hand they can fit in their mouth. Their delight, I find, is contagious, and I start being amazed in spite of my normal cynicism. Of course he'll spend most of the time sleeping so I need to bring stuff to do. I have a video game and I'm trying to find a book to bring. Something that two new parents would want their babysitter to be reading. In other words... absolutely no paperback that I own. Meh they don't have to actually see the book, so long as it stays in my jacket pocket until they're gone. Though I normally try to refuse payment for babysitting, especially since these people are basically family, they're also both amazing cooks so I'm looking forward to whatever leftovers they're okay with me polishing off while I keep their son alive. Anyway gotta go, or I'll be late. Ta. (Comment on this)
12:10 am	Not to detract from the tragedy of Heath Ledger... ...but how many people died today? Even just in America. They didn't all die painlessly in their sleep. How many died in agony? Heart attacks? How many died on the operating table? In the ER? On the way to the ER? They weren't all found by housekeepers. How many were found in the gutter? How many still haven't been found? People die, all the time. Each is a fresh tragedy you'll never know about. I have sympathy for Heath Ledger, for those who survive him, I really do. But I also have sympathy for the thousands who died today who weren't young, pretty and famous. The grandmothers, the children, the murder victims and the victims of criminal negligience. The accidents and the suicides. We live in a world where death is as far as the other side of a shadow. Rather than use this knowledge, rather than treat each day as the precious gift from God that it is and accept the cold truth, that it might be our last, we ignore death until it's forced at us, and then we obsess. When I walk home at night in the frigid air, I wonder how many people without homes won't make it to dawn, and I grieve. When I narrowly avoid an accident I think of those who didn't miss theirs, and I grieve. So I grieve for Mr. Ledger. But you'll pardon me if I don't join the rest of you in obsession. The only thing that bothers me is how many people mistake my reaction for callousnes. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, November 9th, 2007
8:58 am	Dream First... there was a zombie movie type deal. But less extreme. Anyway myself and a small group of people had to hide from the bad guys who could be anyone. We hid... in a bathroom/alley, I think. That was a short dream. Dream of... shelves. and maps. I put up shelves but they got all warped and I couldn't figure out why. My sister said it was because they weren't cut cleanly at the ends. But before that I showed someone a globe with all the rivers in the world on it, and some guy didn't believe I really knew all that so he got me to... I think draw a map of some video game I may have been playing earlier in the dream. AND FINALLY. I was in a high school revue. In theory I was the star. But myself and whoever felt like it would just get out on stage and dance to whatever music was playing. And at first I was nervous cuz I can't dance but then I got creative. For instance one song was all predatory and jungle-like, and they brought out actual dogs on stage. So I said screw the rented tux, I just got down on all fours and started playing with the dogs. I growled at them and jumped around on my knuckles like a gorilla, getting them to bite at my hand and rolling out of the way like I do in real life. It went over well. I think there was also that actress who went from Grey's Anatomy to Private Practice, I know there was supposed to be Megan Mullally, and there was that guy who plays the devil on Reaper. He yelled at me cuz I tried to do-si-do with him and his arm got dislocated, but he was more upset cuz he was in a serious play later that week and he accused me of getting him out of the serious mood with this travesty. And I felt bad and ashamed and then a bit later I was like, the hey? So I walked up to him and said listen buster, in this business, sometimes you draw drama and sometimes you do farce. You need to learn how to shift back and forth or you're not gonna make it. And then I sat the next song out cuz it was some teary ballad and I didn't feel like dancing to it. (Comment on this)