boys

one of the most appealing things about my real estate gig, when i first accepted it, was the idea of working from home. yes, there's the working-in-PJs aspect, and the (usually) flexible sleep schedule, but i also imagined that i would have more time to write. even if the workload was equal to that of a restaurant job, at least i would be at (or have access to) my computer during the inevitable down time. i quite simply have not taken advantage of this. it's partly because the real estate has not morphed into a full time job, of course, so i am still working at the cafe, but most of this entire summer was spent working only occasionally at the cafe, and as such, i should have dozens of pages written. and i do not. i keep saying i'l do nanowrimo, and i keep not doing it... but i've got to do something, and it needs to be something fun, to increase the odds of me finishing it. it also needs to have some structure, to make it easier for me to keep at it. no, i shouldn't have to tailor everything to be easy, but the fact is, I'M NOT WRITING, and i need to. hence, my new project. i am writing a history of my boys. not just sexual conquests, but every boy i can remember. i've started in chronological order, though i'm sure i won't be able to keep that intact, and i'm skipping the "important" ones until i get warmed up. (so don't be offended if i skip or gloss over any of you, dears.) i'll be posting pieces of this history book as i write it. just for kicks, i might even use that cool wordmeter, and set my sights on 50,000 words. i'm not pretending it's nano, just setting a goal. i need to do more of that in my life.

does milk separate?

my brain is on some sort of time delay. i couldn't remember, while at the store, whether i needed milk, but i bought some anyway on the theory that i ALWAYS need milk. as i was putting the new one behind the old (still half full) milk, i had a thought. when i got home from florida to my burgled apartment, the milk in my fridge had (naturally) gone bad. there was a layer of yellowish liquid on top of it, and at the time, i thought, "eww, it separated, i bet that smells bad" so i just tossed the whole thing into the garbage. no thought of dumping it out to recycle the plastic, because the odor of bad milk makes me heave. a week+ later, now, it occurs to me-- does milk separate? i go through so much of it that it rarely has a chance to go bad, but it seems to me that in the past, when i've bought too much, or forgot to dump it before leaving town, that it curdles, not separates. so now i'm wondering, was my burglar so pissed that he couldn't find my laptop that he pissed in my milk on his way out?? if anyone has any knowledge on this matter, please let me know, because otherwise my plan, now that i have more milk than i need, is to abandon use of the half-full jug for a week or two and use it as an experiment. and, well, yuck.

the people have the power... or not.

i -heart- electricity. i HATE inconsiderate people. right now my wrath is directed at the guys behind my building who are trimming trees. it's long overdue, and i'm grateful that they're doing it, etc etc. however. when i heard the trucks out there, i went out and asked if it would help them if i moved my car, which is parked fairly close to where they're working. they were very nice and said yes, in fact it would make their jobs a lot easier. so i backed it up so that it was not directly underneath what they were doing, which made things easier on the one guy who was basically standing directly under where the limbs were falling to make sure they didn't land on my car. i also walked right by them to the basement with my laundry. okay, fine. next thing i know, i have no electricity. i think maybe they've accidentally knocked it out, and i go out to ask, or at least let them know they've done such. my neighbor beats me to them, and finds out that they turned it off on purpose. i also see, at that point, that they have moved to a new area of cutting-- directly above my car's new parking spot. (i would've moved it farther, to the front of the building, but one of their trucks was in the way.) so not only did they not tell me that i was putting my car in a spot that would soon be just as dangerous as the first, but they didn't tell me that in mere moments, they would be cutting off my oxygen. because yes, they did it on purpose, and they obviously had a little notice, because they had to call out the power company to do it. now, i realize that there are people everywhere who live without a steady stream of electricity, and that there are also people in florida, including my friend brainy blonde, who are currently without power. in the latter case, they had a little warning, in the form of miss katrina, who pretty boldly announced herself. is it so hard to at least exhibit as much common courtesy as a deadly force of nature?? lest you think that i'm just cranky that i can't watch the cubs game, well, no, i have that little grundig radio that i bought myself for my birthday, so no worries there. and the weather's not too bad, so there's no unbearable heat involved. my laundry not getting done isn't the end of the world, though that part annoys me because it's pretty common knowledge that washing machines run on electricity, and they WATCHED me starting it and didn't say anything. what's really getting me is the pages and pages of work i'm supposed to be doing, tied in to the fact that all the business calls are being forwarded to the DIGITAL phone line here, which is useless without power. i was really looking forward to the lighter-than-usual friday workload i have today, followed hopefully by a leisurely night lounging/reading on the balcony. i know those guys didn't know that i work from home, that everything important to that work requires electricity... i do realize that. but in this society, electricity is required to do pretty much anything, for better or worse, and dammit, if you're going to cut it off, fucking tell someone. ahem. obviously it's back on now.

adventures on craigslist

if you think the phrase "real estate humor" is an oxymoron, check out this link: bargain basement

work is ick.

this week i took over phone call and ad maintenance duties for the real estate biz. my brain is fried as a result-- or at least that's a convenient enough thing to blame it on. also worked my first night at the cafe since returning to va, and all i could think about all night was whether my robbers would return for the laptop before i got home. i dreaded not being able to find a nearby parking place, and having to make a late walk-- just general paranoia-- but the spot behind the building was open (a pure miracle after 6pm) and my apartment was unmolested. i've been hiding this laptop whenever i'm not at the apartment and leaving the old broken dell on the coffeetable, just in case... and i haven't been working out on the balcony, which is a drag. i should probably find a new roommate. or some chill pills. in order to do this phones task, i have to be awake during the day, which has been a challenge. my body is completely confused. after the 2nd 9am wakeup day, i couldn't get to sleep at night (huh?), so last night i fell asleep around 6pm... and woke up at 1am this morn. not a particularly convenient situation, because i was hoping to pick up a shift at the cafe tonight. (rent is looming angrily, due to the extra hotel expense in florida.) i feel completely drained of personality these past few days. i hadn't really noticed it until i found myself telling someone via email that i had cleaned my kitchen last night. as if he cared! i probably just need some sort of social interaction.

kill! eat!

just when i thought that the burger king "coq roq" campaign was the silliest thing going, i see the new mcdonald's commercials. what is with the pinkie thing? is that some sort of co-opted gang sign that means "kill and eat?" and why, pray tell, when i stay up late, do my right back teeth always start hurting?

an item for my christmas list...

i need a dining room table. and apparently i need a place to hide my laptop from burglars while i'm away. enter the two-tops table! it's brilliant, it's space saving, and apparently, since i have to ask, i can't afford it... here's another version: the secretary.

vacation wrapup

the vacation. hm. there's actually been a lot of drama going on, and i haven't wanted to write about it, because i've been trying to put a positive spin on it (both for myself and for anyone listening to the tale), but the fact is, i had to bail from the house and check into a hotel. not that i could afford such things... this means more nights that i will have to leave my apartment unattended when i get back (to work & make back the $$), leaving ample opportunity for whomever broke in and realized my laptop traveled with me to break back in and try again... but whatever. that's a worry for tomorrow. the hotel was absolutely necessary, both for (real estate) work and for general piece of mind. and i LOVE hotels, if you three readers didn't already know that. anyway. back to sunday: the market didn't happen, because i was asleep, but there was a dinner, on the patio of a delicious greek place, with a handful of ee's bright, intelligent, and witty friends. after dinner (fantastic salmon!), we took off for the aforementioned karaoke downtown. ee took to it immediately, even borrowing a stetson from a guy back at the pool tables who spoke little/no english, as a prop to do kid rock's "cowboy," as well as about a half dozen other songs, mostly with help from her friends. i suppose i seemed antisocial, because i was keeping close to the bar with the few other drinkers (plus i was trying to be courteous about my occasional smoke), and chatting up her neighbor, who i took a quick shine to, but they were all sweet and kind and we had a great time, despite my general hatred of (and yet semi-regular appearance at!) karaoke. then, after, some (good) stuff happened that i feel like i can't write about, because i haven't really decided exactly how anon this here blog thing is, and whether i want to reveal *other* people's secrets... (topic for another post)... and then more potentially not-blog-worthy stuff after, which was not as good... hmm. i guess it's time to decide where i'm really going with this thing. suffice it to say that this is the point where the vacation finally turned to the "sex, drugs, and rock & roll" phase, which is really what i was going for, and which, let's face it, is the fun stuff... monday is sort of a blur; i must have slept through it. monday night, i finally got down to the juice bar, where i met frankie, the aformentioned ziggy marley hotness, who lived up to his description, but was working and distracted... though he did come over and introduce me to a fruit that i'd never heard of, which i LOVE... mame? texture like a sweet potato, but sweeter, native to florida and/or the tropics... apparently it grows for an entire year before it's ripe, as opposed to a regular growing season, which gives it more nutrients? gotta look it up. it was YUMMY. and then tuesday is where it all broke loose. the woman who owns the house where i was staying appeared after a 4 month absence, wanting my room, wanting to know why i was there, and wanting explanations for all the things that had broken/gone astray, in the natural order of things, when you leave a house uncared for, for that long. all i know is when i woke up, the side of the house with the computers and, more importantly, the coffeemaker and water source, was locked down, and there was some story about a threat on her life, and sneaking into the country... i decided enough was enough. even after my decision to leave, things still kept going wrong-- after i'd rescued my belongings and packed them up, and stepped outside to smoke while i waited for ee to give me a ride to a hotel, i got locked out of the house and was subsequently eaten alive by mosquitoes-- but eventually, by nightfall, i was comfortably (and expensively) ensconced in a hotel room down on hallandale beach. peace and quiet, at last... so i got some work done, finally, and some restful sleep... then wednesday, a little more work, followed by a marathon sex session (ok, only 3 full action-packed hours), with someone from a previously excised story, which i needed in ways that i don't even want to 'fess up to... holy smokes, did that ever turn my brain around. more, please! a quick nap later, i ventured down to the lobby bar in search of RED MEAT, which has been woefully absent in my trek down here with the health crowd, and which i craved beyond rationality for obvious reasons... now, i don't know about anyone else, but having lots of sex makes me personally want to have MORE sex, and IMMEDIATELY... (after a cigarette and a cheeseburger, anyway)... and c'mon, it's the last day of my supposed de-stress vacation, and things have not gone exactly as planned thus far... so i cruised the only three guys at the bar promptly, picked which one i wanted... and the wrong one started talking to me first. he was nice, and sitting on the opposite side as the one i'd decided on, so in my attempt to be polite, i lost the attention of the one i wanted (who reminded me, in regional accent only, of my obsessoid biker boy, which was reason enough for me at that point)... and then ee called and wanted to take me back to the juice bar to the hotness of frankie. decisions, decisions... the bar was closing, and a little eavesdropping on the settling of tabs clued me in to how many martinis pseudo-biker boy had already consumed (i.e. too many for him to do me much good), so i took off. frankie was closing up when we got there, but he had his guitar, and so we sat on the boardwalk and listened to him play, with the tide behind us as background noise. and i felt bad for not looking him in the eye, but... i noticed almost immediately that he has the best hands EVER. and i am a SUCKER for great hands on a man. i forgot all about the guy in the bar. but then: ee needed some water, which was inexplicably nowhere to be found, so we took frankie up on a late night invite to his place, *after* we stopped, in a separate car, at her house. in between, ee's boy called, on his way home from work, and somehow it was determined that he had a hotter boy in his car, and would stop at my hotel room to meet up with us all and have a quick drink. this, my friends, is why i do not go out without my own transportation. i knew better than to trust the boy's judgement-- he claimed that while his friend was not as hot or talented as he himself was, they were both heads above frankie, both of which claims i doubted-- but alas, i was not in control of the destination, so off we went to my room, after promising frankie we'd call him back in 15 minutes. we even set up a code phrase for me to utter in case i decided against the coworker-- making me feel like i was in high school, yep-- and to make matters even more blunt, when they arrived, and ee looked through the peephole to make sure it was them before opening the door, she gave me a thumbs-down. but for some reason, we still dilly-dallied long enough that frankie was exhausted and on his way to bed by the time we called. alas. so i threw the whole crew out, and am lying here alone in my sexed-up bed, wondering how on earth i'm going to wake up in time for checkout, and what i'll do for the 6 hours between then and when my flight leaves. ee said "i'll come pick you up, and we'll go to the shooting range!," which was our one and only solid plan for the trip, but i know that's not going to happen. perhaps i'll stow my bags and sit by the pool and actually get a few minutes of sun, so that anyone will believe that i just spent a week in "miami."

vacation update

the vacation thus far has been uneventful, though given the stress-escape nature of the trip, that's not a bad thing. thursday night i arrived (on time!) with a headache, exhausted, and a bit wired-- i took what i thought was half a valium before the flight, and as we were taking off and i was willing it to kick in so i could fall asleep, it hit me-- IDIOTA! i didn't have any valium! i only had ADDERAL!! i suppose it could've been worse-- there's a viagra floating around in my happy pill bottle, too... on the way home from the airport, i met ee's cousin, who also happens to be her chiropractor, because she had a stiff neck... then there was the obligatory grocery stop, because ee usually only has wheat grass and blueberries in her fridge-- thank goodness i was awake enough then to remember that. finally home, i got the grand tour, and went to lay down for "a minute" to get rid of my headache... next thing i knew, it was 1am. oops! seems i missed the big night at the juice bar, and all the friends she invited out to meet me. well, i didn't entirely miss all of them... after making a snack & realizing my net access didn't work, i went to ask ee for a password so i could use her computer, and [edited til i get her permission to tattle!]... friday began with the craptastical phone call from my landlady, and went on to include a bizarre threatening phone call for ee and ridiculous technical difficulties for me... we didn't make any plans for friday or saturday-- OH work for me fri and a previous commitment for her on sat-- but we did end up at the beach at sunrise, courtesy of her "ex" bf. i was half drunk (partly an attempt to get to sleep, partly pure entertainment and stress relief) and had been engaging in a bit of drunk dialing, as well as drunk TMing, and was working on a drunk email to someone i really shouldn't... when the boy showed up & said let's go, i hit send without reading it to see if it even made *drunk* sense. today's verdict: no, it did not. best i can tell, i was trying to convince my biker boy psuedo-obsession that he's a figment of my imagination. which, in most of the ways that matter, he IS... but he doesn't need to know that *I* know that. somewhere in the middle of all that, i watched a DVD copy of a video recording of a crazy weekend we spent outside pittsburgh a while back, in which our favorite musician was somehow convinced to come play a show in ee's back yard. it was a real doozy of a weekend, and it was great fun watching it and reminiscing (and drunk dialing the people who appear in it, natch), but this is the same musician that i was listening to a live recording of the night i threw P out of my bed... the same guy i used to fly, drive, ride hundreds of miles to see... whose live show clearly makes me want to ACT... so if the worst thing i did after watching it drunk was screw things up with a guy i only see once a year, i probably came out ahead. on deck for sunday: hanging out at a farmer's market on the beach (darn juice bar is apparently closed on the weekends...?), and then karaoke with some lesbians. hmm...

insomnia blues

ugh. i can't sleep. can't stop thinking about my apartment, about walking in after a vacation to that mess. and especially, about trying to get to sleep for the first couple nights. if only i hadn't broken up with P & could've asked him to stay there as usual while i was gone... well, in that case, i probably wouldn't be down here in the first place... ah, screw it, there's no good logic there. i talked to him last night, first time since we swapped our belongings. TM'd him, curious, asked whether he'd bolted in the AC when he installed it, and told him why. he actually couldn't remember whether he had or not-- WTF?!-- and i guess it seemed like the excuse i'd been looking for to talk to him, so i called. it was about 3am and he was closing the bar, so it wasn't much of a chat, but it was cordial, and it didn't make me feel any better. this is me moving on to other topics instead of blathering about why cordial isn't the right response...

good news... bad news.

the good news: i made it to florida in one piece. ee's house is big and beautiful, the skies are clear, much fun will be had. the bad news: i woke this morning to a call from my landlady. she was standing in my apartment with the cops, wondering where i was. seems someone broke into my apartment sometime in the less than 24 hours that i've been gone. fuckety fuck. hard to say from here, but it sounds like nothing much is missing-- they were obviously looking for my laptop, which is here with me. more on this (and hopefully some vacation stuff too) later... net access only works in the hottest corner of the house, so i might not be updating much while i'm here.

bienvenidos a miami

you know you're in a wacked emotional state when you glean life wisdom from an episode of "roseanne..." but, whoa, that was LAST night; more on that another time. right now, i am procrastinating from sleeping and packing for my trip to MIAMI! actually, i'm flying into ft lauderdale, staying in hollywood, halfway between the two, but doesn't MIAMI sound more glamorous?? i'll go with images of scantily clad MTV women heralding my arrival by dancing their little sexy-dances in the airport and singing that silly will smith song (but only the spanish part). assuming i wake up in time for my (3:30 pm!) flight, that's where i'll be for the next week. (you two who are reading this and have my #, feel free to gift me with a wakeup call, anytime noon-ish. thanks!) ee is planning lots of fun for us, including hanging out at her favorite, um, juice bar... huh? apparently it's chock fulla hot boys, so i'll wait til i see it to pass judgement. she swears the owner, who is also her neighbor, looks just like that tasty cubano i was running around with a few years ago... (tho, she says, a little less like lenny k and a little more like ziggy marley. which in turn revealed her plan to date lenny, who happens to be purportedly trying to buy the duke seman mansion in NYC, so maybe i can use my real estate connections to track him down for her... imagine the foxy hand-me-downs i could get from being lenny's girlfriend's wing-woman! almost as good as the commission someone's gonna get if they broker that deal... okay, maybe not THAT good...) and, turns out she's been dying to learn to shoot, & got a big kick out of my tale of trying to do the same, every year for the last half-dozen, for my birthday, only to find that i was dating or otherwise involved with FELONS, each and every year. wtf?!? so, we'll go together. in MIAMI, dammit. i'll be sure and bring a camera, so i can post pics of my as-expected, bond-girl, marks-woman-ship prowess. those few of you who remember our "thelma & louise" reputation from years past might appreciate the humor. to the other two of you reading: eh, ask me later. meanwhile, in biker boy obsession news, turns out he's in key west this week, for some stripper party, and it seems my email suggesting he stop off in "miami" on his way back north, arrived after he'd already headed south. this means i'll likely miss my annual visit from him, as this week coincides with his daughter's week at camp, & she'll be back before i get home. just like my week in chicago, this time last summer. i guess it's just not destined. alas. (reality update: i did in fact realize that long ago, and still i enjoy the fantasy. so sue me. and, truth be told, i still want another chance to show that the quiet-for-roomie sex we had, as well as the later he-didn't-want-to-wrap-it-up-so-i-couldn't-really-relax sex, was nowhere near the best i've got to give. is that so wrong, to want to be remembered at my full, mind-blowing potential? i didn't think so.) and, if i don't spend all my money on ammunition, i'll look for some horses to ride nearby, and maybe update that three year old picture up there. i still have that great posture, natch, but i lost that hat in new orleans. for shame. "...and in the morning you can tell me your dreams..."

random thoughts

random thoughts, because i can't focus on anything more than that given the bachelor party going on downstairs... --i'm really finally getting the hell out of town! booked the ticket for real, for thursday, returning the following thursday. i'll have to sit in the airport for a while, b/c ee has a class at the exact time i arrive (and depart, for that matter), but i finally have the new mccarthy novel, which i'm saving for the trip, though now that i think about it, maybe i'll start it tonight... --the biker boy i'm obsessed with is also going to be in florida next week, though i suspect he left town before getting my email telling him i'd be there & to look me up on his way back north... i know i'll never "get" him, but what the hell, it's fun to imagine. --a gal i used to work with was in the cafe tonight... with the beautiful man i always thought was her boyfriend. he's so beautiful, in fact, that when i stopped by their table to say hi, i avoided his gaze nearly the whole time-- i didn't want to appear disrespectful, because she's good people, someone who's bf i wouldn't knowingly hit on, and the first time i saw him in there, about a year ago, i did nothing BUT stare at him, to the extent that i didn't even see her at the table til she said hello to me. after they left, S and i were talking about "types" of men, and i held this guy up as an example, bemoaning the fact that he was taken, and found out that S had specifically asked his status (she's blunt like that) and it turns out he's NOT at all. i find this hard to believe, but nonetheless, i'm regretful that i was so distant to him, because now i'm thinking, oooh, potential boy to play with! i've been thinking about finally getting together with ol' dr J, and now the plan is to get him to take me to dinner at the place where she mentioned she now works, so i can quiz her for info... crazy long shot, but what isn't? --the bachelor party downstairs is finally breaking up, and now there are guys out front talking on their cell phones, trying to meet up with some girls at "the moon," by which i can only assume they mean the strip club not far from here... i'm listening, and trying really hard not to laugh out loud... it's 4am, which means any girls they'd be meeting at the strip club are girls who work there, and, um, they *sound* old enough to know that when a stripper gives you her phone number and tells you what time they get off, either you have a crapload of money, which i doubt these guys do, or they're fucking with you... we'll see how long they stand here waiting for these girls to call them back... --still pissed at P, still being good and not calling or writing, except for a quick email to ask for his dad's new address, because his bday is coming up and i'd like to send him a card, and he recently moved. just because i broke up with P doesn't mean i broke up with his whole family, who'd i'd grown to like. --hahaha, "dude, she's gonna want some money," one of them just said. "those strippers are so not coming over here, they just want all the money i made on thursday!" thank goodness there's at least one smart boy down there, elsewise i suspect they'd still be down there waiting for these girls to show up when i wake up tomorrow afternoon... ha. ... --well, after i wrote the above, the paper guy came, so i hollered down to ask one of the drunk guys to throw up my paper... turns out the sane voice was one of my new downstairs neighbors. the drunk voice invited me down, and after a while, i went, after which lo and behold, "sabrina" showed up, and took drunk boy to breakfast... after he left, i ended up hanging out with the neighbor and talking music, and it turns out he has good taste, & i need to loan him some stuff. despite the noise, i still like living in the city, for the *potential* of neighborly things like that, which never seem to happen... cool. --whoa, not so cool: drunk boy just got back from his stripper breakfast, and on the way in, he pissed all over the porch. not: he stopped and took a leak, but: ALL OVER the porch, in arcs and puddles and pools. i heard it, but thought surely he was in the bushes, and i wasn't in the mood to talk to him again, so i didn't lean over the balcony to show my face... now i wish i had. fucking disgusting drunk boys.

petty grievances

ok, i've gotten to the point where the thing that's pissing me off most is that i can't make him a break-up mix CD, since he's proven in the past that he'll actually LIKE it, think it's terribly appropriate, in his "i'm an asshole, but aren't i cute, thanks for thinking of me, i know you just can't help yourself from still being nice to me" way... and then he'll use songs from it to make a mix for another woman he suckers into getting involved with him. (sadly, no, that last part is not conjecture-- that happened. only it wasn't a breakup mix, it was a "hmm, looks like we might actually be dating, now, and not just sleeping together, eh?" mix, and he used it as fodder for an "i miss you" mix for his last gf, the one i thought i was just borrowing him from. shouldn't there be a waiting period on that sort of thing??) but, if that's the main thing, i'm in good shape, less than a week afterward, right? let's hope it stays that way. chicago is not happening, else i'd be getting on a plane right about... NOW. but! my boss loves me, and when i told him the chi trip was a bust, he yet again proved himself the best boss in the world (i still feel weird calling him my boss, but it makes this story better) by ordering me to take a week off and go to miami instead. um, ok! technically, he made me promise to still do a wee bit of work while i'm down there, but he's paying for the plane ticket, so i can't really argue with the logic. i haven't actually bought it yet, because i feel guilty taking money from him, which is because i'm an idiot... ARGH! looks like i'm not going when i thought i was going... it's just one annoying little thing after another this week. i've managed not to write about all these sniggly little crappy things that have been getting on my nerves, things like sprint cutting off my phone 4 days before the bill was due (for which i'd just mailed payment, which will arrive on time, dammit) and the ensuing drama to get it turned back on, etc, etc, because i fully recognize that these are small little motes of nothing, and that my life is really quite lovely, but... ARGH! i just tried to book my flight, and it turns out that in order to fly within the next five days, i have to arrive at the airport with not only MY identification, but also the credit card the flight was booked on. as if proving someone ELSE's identity, someone who isn't on the plane or even in the same state, is a security risk. (security was indeed the line i just got when i called delta.) isn't the last minute biz trip on a corporate card a fairly common, even daily, occurence?? and if it's about identity/card theft, is someone else really going to notice within five days if i've used their card without their knowledge? if that's the case, it better be at least 30 days. i know, i know, it's not a big deal to leave a few days later than planned. it really isn't. (wait-- except for the shifts i already committed to for when i got back-- shite.) i would just like to reach for, aim for, attempt to do, ONE thing this week without it barking at me. i'd like to pick up my phone and have it place a call, turn the key of my car and have it start (ok, got that one finally), sit down to work and have my overpriced net access function, ask someone a question and have them give me the right answer (i.e. what time the sprint store in the next town over REALLY closes), and dammit, i'd like to be able to book a free vacation when someone orders me to take one!!!! whoa. deep breath. lots of them. i need some sleep. perhaps these annoyances are all distractions meant to keep me from thinking about the stupid boy. if so-- bravo, world. it's working.

briefs

turns out i should've called the cops. when i got home monday night, there was a note in the foyer from my neighbors upstairs, saying they'd just gotten home from a week out of town and were robbed while they were gone. shite. i'd write more about this except that the aforementioned/subsequent early hour breakup is consuming my thoughts more than it should. head clearing exercises are underway; updates, and maybe even the story, if i decide it's worth posting here, later...

stupid girl

note to self: do not initiate a highly emotional breakup at 6:30 in the morning with someone who you KNOW is not going to try to talk you out of it, or even defend himself. there is NO ONE awake to talk you down after he walks out the door. stupid stupid stupid.

current tv

sunday after midnight i found myself, very briefly, in a housing project that i'd heard of (on the more dismal portions of the news) but never knew the location of. i have no commentary on this odd fact just yet. instead, some fluff... i had finally learned where all my favorite channels were a few months ago, then i spent that month in new york, and re-learned the same ones up there on TWC. got home, confused, re-learned the originals, and now comcast decides they need to change the lineup. now i can't find my 3 am murphy brown episode... or maybe it's not on on sundays. who knows. i'm sure i can find something equally mindless... but looky! i get current tv! i've been following their progress in the press a bit halfheartedly, not at all expecting it would be carried here. i know it isn't geared toward my demographic, but i've been thinking of several people i know who i can imagine getting aired on it, based only on what i've read about it thus far. now that it's actually on, i'll see if those imaginings are accurate, and if so, i'll start badgering those people to get involved. i'm a tad worried that it might be way too fluffy. we'll see. hey, here now's a "sketch" (i'm sure they have a better term for what they do) about egg donation! dammit! ... oh. they're called pods. sure. and now here's one about X parties in iran. (yes, that kind of X.)