the heinous heat
i am so tired of the humidity. it is september…though i ‘m not surprised that rochester balks at adhering to typical seasonal expectations. what else is new. i don’t do well in the heat, i hate summer (YES I SAID IT. AND I MEAN IT) and i make a miserable cold person (I just complain all the time) but it’s easier to get warmer than to get cooler and who doesn’t like...
something i wrote long ago...
I was stuck inside, doing my job. The computer lab was cold, temperature wise but also in the sense that computers rarely love you back. And why should they, since we use them for our own purposes? No matter how much you love them, they can’t love you back. Yet. Most of the time they just screw you over when your term paper is due or you are lured in to unwittingly clicking a link that...
she does the stepford
So i’ve told you about my love of white bread and yogurt and my megatron tv. since it’s nearing an hour that is sleep-reasonable, obviously i must tell you about where i live while a Seinfeld rerun softly lulls my creativity in the frontground (i don’t care that it’s foreground, i know what i’m doing, fore is stupid, is it like forehead and backhead? no, there’s no such things as backheads,...
well, i’m just going to tell you right now, this is all going to be about coffee and the erotic relationship i share with it. i want to start off by saying i didn’t used to be this way. honestly, i can’t even remember my first cup of coffee. i know it’s like some strange cultural coming-of-age (teenie boppers bein all coo’ goin to starbucks to get their caps and...
i'm not picking my nose.
so, i got my nose pierced a couple months ago (not to be rebellious, i mean my dad’s a preacher and a couple people had scandalized conniptions, which was really fun, let me tell you, but this was a personal pursuit. i wanted that needle through my nose SO BADLY) and i’ve already told you about my olfactory sense being quite keen, so clearly i’m a bit preoccupied with my nose on...
olfactory is a fancy word for nose-usage
since i spent the better part of the morning sitting here at my job chipping the nail polish off my fingers (time to repaint with essie’s Bordeux…i want to name nail polishes. give me that job. the world has had enough of hum-drum colours like melancholy maroon and cheap cherry cherry) i figured i might as well be “productive” and write. i am about ready for a nap however. ...
it is immense
her voice is young and light. i have no time for any of that she says. he chuckles for what. mushy nonsense she says. he tips his head back, closes his eyes (they frustrate him so, they don’t work as they should) arms on each rest in his chair. i sit here alone for weeks and weeks (eyes still closed) and i am glad when someone walks through the door he says. his voice is old and quiet.
summer: take two (or three, or four...)
So, there down below (my first post, my lack-of-motivation-but-motivated-enough-to-sound-relatively-intelligent post) is an example of how last summer was going. It’s not a good example by any means. Last summer was absolute shit. I don’t really think the shit gets conveyed quite right. My summers aren’t really all that great, I’ve been on a solid four-year run of poop. Lemme break down the...
i’ve been in a white stripes/the raconteurs/weezer phase. dig it.
so i’m sitting here in the dark at my job picking around the lettuce in my salad to get to the apricot slices. they’ve steeped in the dressing so they’re squishy again. i’m pretending i’m eating little spleens. (i’ve never eaten a spleen and i don’t plan on eating a spleen, no worries.) it was a big salad (Seinfeld reference). now would be a good time...
Waste Not, Want Not
I can’t stir myself to be productive today; it’s the start of my last two weeks of summer (and ultimately my only two weeks of summer) and here I lie, watching season 1 episode 20 of Bones. All I can say I really accomplished thus far, after almost six hours of consciousness, is completing my personal hygiene routine. Aka I’m still in my towel as I type this. I’m feeling...
derekwood: Wye Oak - The Altar