Gobo, Mokey, Wembley, Boober, Red

i really need to stop drinking during the week. i passed out without washing up or taking my contacts off, and this morning i was so groggy i forgot to use conditioner in the shower. i look like a fraggle.



except without the smile.

what the fuck?!

WHAT THE FUCK

boys don't cry

The winner of the 800m race at the World Championships in Berlin, Caster Semenya, is not celebrating her victory or signing endorsement contracts at the moment because she's a little tied up with people questioning her gender. The accusations seem to be coming mainly from her competitors, who all make one very reasonable and logically cogent claim: "just look at her." Not surprisingly, the media has gone crazy over this compelling story, and journalists are scouring the South African countryside to see if anyone can counter these arguments. Her mother, grandmother, father, friends, and neighbors who watched her grow up all claim that Semenya is indeed a girl. Family shamily! What do they know? Blood may be thicker than water, but it's not thicker than her accusers. They apparently also produced a birth certificate, but after that scandal involving President Obama going back in time to fabricate one in order to steal the presidency in the present from the Republicans, God, and America, I don't think we can really consider birth certificates to be solid evidence anymore. Clearly, we should take very seriously the name-calling by all the girls who lost the race to her. They spent a lot of time with her on the track (or at least a whole one minute and 55.4 seconds choking on her dust). And that axe they're grinding? Oh, that's just for later when they fell and carve up a redwood, call it a wooden shoe, and use it to prove the existence of Dutch giants.

land of nod

i've noticed that i sleep less than normal. i considered 6 hours to be a great accomplishment, and the past 2 weeks i've been getting about 4. i wake up at 5:45 on weekdays, 5 on saturdays, and 7 on sundays, and for whatever reason i can never seem to make it to bed before midnight. the weird thing is, though, that i never thought it was a weird thing until recently. it's been coming up in conversation, people saying they need at least 7 or 8 or even 9 hours of sleep in order to function during the day. i can't even imagine getting 9 hours of sleep a night. that means i would have to sleep at 8:45 on weeknights. i think i'm usually eating something around that hour. or drinking. or maybe sitting around in my underwear contemplating how the fuck my ac could be so slow about cooling my tiny apartment, but definitely not sleeping. but since i am now aware that my sleeping standards are hazardously low, i've started to notice differences on the rare occasions that i do get extra sleep. bright lights seem softer and less glaring, i don't have this strange inflated feeling in my skull, my shoulders feel loose, i'm more focused, i remember things better, i have better balance, my eyeballs feel lighter, and i don't yawn as much. that last part isn't necessarily a positive since i rely on my constant yawning to remoisten my contacts. on the other hand, i have also noticed that sleeping more causes my contacts to feel less dry. so i guess there are some benefits to sleeping more. i've just gone through life thinking that "normal" actually meant "sleep-deprived and utterly crazed," and confusing the feeling of being well rested with being high. i could never figure out where or how i could have gotten high, but my bets were on second hand inhalation of Raid or my diabolical sister drugging my skincare products. now i know its just sleep. how anticlimactic.

so the conclusion i've come to from all this is twofold:

1. sleep is a mind-altering drug. say no to drugs. therefore i say no to sleep.

2. i feel that i must debunk this myth that any certain amount of sleep is required to function in life. believe me, you are fully capable of functioning with under 9 hours or whatever ridiculous amount of time you like to spend prostrate, unresponsive, and drooling with your eyes rolled back in your head. you might feel a bit sleepy, but you can definitely function, and when you run into things, you don't even feel the bruises, which is probably the reason why i'm constantly covered in them with no recollection of how i got them. so while sleep is a mind-altering drug, lack of sleep is a pain reliever. like vicodin. and who doesn't like vicodin.

3. lack of sleep creates a grating urge to ramble idiotically in blogs. it also sometimes messes with mathematical skill.

if you can't stand the heat...

most days, my cooking "technique" involves asking my hungry stomach to list everything it wants, and then choosing some of those things on the basis of how well they would go together and how easily they can be procured. it is unspeakably difficult to resist the urge to toss everything together in one big pot. then i take all the chosen pieces, and toss everything together in one big pot. and every once in a while, i utilize all 3 sizes of my stirring spoons because it makes me feel fancy. usually things turn out well. which isn't saying much because, frankly, i could pour sriracha hot sauce on a bowl of plain noodles and be happy. it is a real possibility that the only reason i consume solid food is to provide a carrier for hot sauce. i think generally the hodgepodge method works alright, at least in terms of meeting the end goal of a pleasant, savory meal. but of course, there is something wonderful about real cooking. i love to cook. initially this came from the fact that i love to eat, which is where all good cooking should come from. but it's grown since then into a love for the act of cooking itself. the process of cooking, from chopping to flambeing, is fun and you're aware of yourself learning and perfecting. you take joy in the creation. and the end result takes on a new dimension from the intent, technique, and well-thought out creativity that infuse themselves into the taste. it's a good metaphor for relationships, forgive the cliche, or at least it is for mine. so haphazard fun? or careful creation? that is the question. the rub.

well, we shall see. the readiness is all.

i love beverly feng

Beverly: i started chasing pigeons cuz i was mad about my manicure

me: you know that sometimes you sound like a crazy person right

life and times of the wandering fat ass

last night i went out to play beer pong at 9pm, and had chicken & rice. you know those morning-afters, when you wake up and lay there recollecting everything that happened last night, and after a while your eyes go O_O, and your dehydrated brain goes, whaaaaaat? that's happening to me right now with all the food i ate last night. let's recap:

at beer pong: chicken&rice
at pizzeria: buffalo wings, carrot sticks
at rooftop party: naked burger
at st. marks: agedashi tofu, rice and codfish roe, squid in garlic butter sauce, smelt, skewers

i don't think i ever stopped eating. or drinking. you know what's sad though? just before the memories of last night's smorgasbord came flooding back, my very very very first waking thought was, "i wonder what i should eat today?"

post 2 on wednesday

i've been asked if all i do at work is blog. obviously, no. sometimes i do this:

Wendy: - _______________ - ;;

me: O____________O v

Sent at 12:49 PM on Wednesday

Wendy: V ^ __________________ - V

me: (^________~) v

Wendy: ()()
(..)
()()
() ()
me: foiled

Wendy: earless bunny

me: haha

Wendy: suicide bunny

me: gee up dah!

Wendy: HOHOHO

me: hahahahaha

it's a tough life i lead.

gibberish

i think i may have first-degree burns on my palms. the breakfast cart guy outside my yoga studio does not carry those little coffee cup holder ring thingamajigs. he apparently finds them unnecessary. he handed me extra napkins, and sent me off. it wouldn't have been too much of a problem, i just passed the cup back and forth between my hands (slow roasting), but it turned into a big mess when i got to the subway station. i tried to get my metrocard out of my wallet while the coffee cup slowly seared my hand while an onslaught of people came pouring out of the nqr trains and through the turnstiles while receipts and cards and random pieces of paper in my overstuffed wallet drifted to the floor. i felt a little bit like my super from my old apartment in brooklyn that afternoon she nailed a piece of paper onto drywall and then ran into the middle of the street, screaming why am i so fucking stupid?! but i digress. the origami collection in my wallet has been crammed in there for so long that it usually stays put, like wallet lichens. but i stuck my birth control pills in there also because i keep forgetting them all over the place, and i guess it loosened everything up a bit. bc pills have really tested my remembering skills. the ones that i don't have, probably because i left them somewhere and forgot about them. i've moved the time i take my pill to various hours in the day over the past few months. early morning, late at night, early evening, and lunchtime. which is where we're at now. the problem is that i need cues. the other times didn't work out so well because sometimes the cues, like getting to work, eating dinner, bedtime, weren't that reliable. but i'm getting better at it, and i have high hopes for lunchtime (anytime between noon and 1pm). although i do sometimes forget to eat lunch. ah, there's the rub.

i just noticed that my trash was not taken out. and come to think of it, the lights in my office were on when i came in this morning. my powers of deduction say that the cleaning lady did not come by last night. a few weeks ago there was a big commotion in the financial district because a cleaning lady was murdered and stuffed into an air vent. maybe i should ask about our cleaning lady. then again, maybe she just forgot to come by our floor or played hooky. i wouldn't want to get her in trouble. hm. i'll give it a few days.

i also just got a mass email. i've been getting a lot of those lately, from people leaving their jobs or new people joining staffs or writers announcing new books. they all start with "please forgive the mass email." well you know what? NO. just kidding, i don't really mind it.

in case you were wondering or just expecting i would come around, i won't. this blog has no point. it's just stupid rambling. "there's something scary about stupidity made coherent," as henry says in the real thing. but don't worry, i promise i'm harmless. i won't turn you into a cleaning lady in an air vent. ooh... hm . maybe too soon.


for more nonsense, please visit: well dressed animals

turkeycorns

today, over turkey-brie burgers, my sister said to me: "i thought bison were extinct. and then i saw them at the zoo." it reminded me of the time she laughed at me for believing ligers were real, and not a product of the genius imagination of napoleon dynamite. it also reminded me of wooly mammoths, and what shit luck it is that they're dead, but still can't rest in peace because we keep picking them out of blocks of ice. tragic.