too early for this

sta: OMG i just pooed something the size of my arm

Sent at 11:24 AM on Tuesday

me: ........

Sent at 11:27 AM on Tuesday

sta: im amazed too!

finally

story almost finito. submitting tomorrow tomorrow. phalanges crossed-o.

55

saturday was my dad's birthday. he would have been 55. it would have been cute to have a cake with two hand prints in it to show five & five. we always used to forget. ironic that we don't anymore.

heppy bursday, abba

the usual ramble of nothing

what a fabulous weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! just makes this dismal fucking monday even drearier, doesn't it.

i rode on the back of a bike on friday. my ass still hurts. and yesterday, my yoga class almost felt like bikram because they left the studio shades up all day, letting the sun bake the air. for whatever reason, our teacher wouldn't turn on the fan, and then proceeded to work us so hard it was like she had some sort of personal vendetta against us. a girl fainted while we were in half-lotus standing pose. it was like watching a flamingo die. my body is in great pain.

i am hailing in the kokeerees tonight. watching crazy protesters screaming obscenities among parents with small children is hilarious. also watching children of invention and mother this week. going to obah dosuh on asian cinema. go watch the trailer for children of invention. i don't know what it is, but little kids eating noodles makes my brain explode from cuteness.

ha penis

wendy: when you're in a good mood it kind of freaks me out

: it's like an alien has taken over your body

me: but i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

interrobang

the train was crowded as usual this morning, and i was standing very close to and facing a guy in parachute pants. as the train bumped along its track, i zoned out, losing myself in my thoughts, until out of his parachute pants the guy pulled out a pack of starbursts. and before i even knew what i was doing, i blurted, OH can i have one? there was an awkward moment of silence, but he held out the package. and let me pick a color. and i took yellow. and then i got off the train, at which point the bottom of the bag i was carrying fell out spilling the contents all over the subway platform.

and that, friends, is an interrobang.

beeswax

on my way to work i saw a large truck for "Code Shred" parked next to the goldman sachs building. the lettering on the side of the truck read: "Code Shred. Where Your Business is Nobody's Business."

the financial crisis inquiry commission recently met to do some important dithering, which actually turned out to be kind of amusing bc angelides is unabashedly out for goldman's ball sachs. after extensive questioning, bringing up all sorts of numbers and old documents, and basically smacking around the poor (in character) man like a baby's ass, chairman angelides actually begins to sound sorry for blankfein, saying as an aside: "look, the reason I press this is not to make you say 'uncle'..."

say uncle, bitch. say uncle.

anyways. i guess the point i wanted to make was just that i found the the professional "we get rid of all your incriminating evidence" truck parked so close to goldman sachs funny. and a little disconcerting.

the end.

ILL... ium. hehe

is this the face that launched a thousand snot rockets and burned countless forests worth of tissues?

-_-

i think my body may have taken matters into its own hands, as i refuse to give it sleep, and turned me into a narcoleptic. sunday night, i came home and started changing into my pajamas, but apparently never really made it through all the way. note of caution to all, it is a bad idea to fall asleep sans clothing on top of your sheets. i woke up feeling congested, which is normal, but by the time yoga ended, the congestion was only worse. i felt myself spiraling downward all through work, and now i am here, tuesday morning, sitting in bed at 11:15, getting ready to go to work 3 hours late. and blogging. so maybe like 3 hours and 15 minutes late.

ugh. i feel like death. i look like death. i sound like death. i should get a goddamn gold medal for going into work like this. or quarantined and labeled a biological terrorist. the papers will call me the snot bomber.