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.:: Delusions of Adequacy ::.

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Back... finally! Sep. 7th, 2005 @ 01:26 pm
It seems like - and probably has literally been - weeks since I've been able to get on here. I think since my last time, I've had three trips to Michicagan, one to Ohio, and one to Virginia - in addition to a 9-day visit by in-laws, and a hard drive with a corrupted boot sector (thanks, Norton Ghost!) that needed fixed before I could return. Oh, and I traded my old cell phone in for a Pocket PC phone from Sprint... I highly recommend their PC phone - it rocks - but like a spacebrained idiot I forgot to copy the addy's & contacts from my old one. Arrgghh.

So in short, I've been pretty much out of touch with the civilized world for over a month now.

So, dear civilized world, how the hell are you? ;)
Mood: chipperchipper
Music: Spinal Tap - Big Bottom

Arrrgggghh. Jul. 28th, 2005 @ 11:46 am
I'm pissed. Work blows. It's not your usual kind of "work blows" either. I'm swamped, and every little thing I need to accomplish requires ten times its weight in superfluous communication to make it happen. People are incompetent and content. Corporate red tape is impenetrable, and "the right channels" never have people's names attached to them.

All I want to do is to build software as it should be - for the users, for the other developers who will need to mess with it later on, and for the enterprise it's designed to serve in the first place. Instead, I'm relegated to taking a Good Thing and transforming it into pure crap, just in order to get it through all the fire-ringed hoops in between my building it and its getting installed where it needs to go.

I have so many things I want to be doing this week - things to read, things to listen to, to read, to respond to, to simply think about and ponder and feel wistful about - and I'm separated from all of that by insurmountable heaps of bullshit that serve no productive purpose and that simply woudn't exist in a better world. Why isn't anyone else outraged? Not ticked, pissy or "having a bad attitude," but outraged? I think that's what bothers me more than any of the shit itself...
Mood: pissed offpissed off

Update from Cincinnati Jul. 19th, 2005 @ 11:37 pm
On the road again, and the trip started with an indescribably awesome Sunday night. That passed into a 5 hour drive, which in turn passed into one of the most horrific hotel experiences I've ever encountered.
  • When I arrived, the room key they gave me didn't work;
  • When the security person tried to reset the keycard reader on the door, they couldn't. Their solution was to let me in to the room with a mater key & then leave, telling me to go down to the main desk in the morning & ask for a new key;
  • When the security dude left & I actually entered the room, it wasn't made up (no sheets on the bed, no towels, and not even cleaned up from the last guest).
  • I moved to a new room, which features no ashtrays (smoking room though);
  • The new room also features an alarm clock with a short in the power cord so that the slightest vibration causes it to reset to 12:00 and start blinking;
  • The high-speed internet service is down in the entire hotel, so I have to pack up my laptop and walk to a WiFi lounge four blocks away to get at essential services like Meetro and YIM and AIM and LiveJournal. (agahst)
I'm expending considerable effort at work just trying to arrange an interview to keep my current job when the contract I'm on expires and a new firm takes it over.

Well, that's my gripe session for the evening. Really, Sunday night was by far the bigger deal here, but it's much easier to find words for how crappy the hotel was than for how good Sunday night was, so this will have to do for the moment. Hopefully I'll have more positive or artistic crap to post later.
Mood: tiredtired
Music: Duran Duran - Reach up for the Sunrise (overhead music)

Unsent Jul. 12th, 2005 @ 01:22 pm
...and please don't try to understand me
your hands already know too much anyway...
Mood: < sigh >
Music: Alanis - Unsent

I Like the Way You Smell (III) Jul. 12th, 2005 @ 09:48 am

There. She'd seen it. He wasn't sure the first few times, but this time there was no mistake - she'd looked right at it, and acknowleged so much with a flicker of eye contact. He knew he was risking having this perceived as a deliberate send-off, but if that was to be the outcome then so much the better to be done with it now. He wished he knew what language she was speaking with her friend; it was consonant-heavy like German only smoother, like a romance language with its edge blunted from overuse. He felt uncultured for not being able to name it, but whatever it was, she would speak it quietly with her friend and the friend would make furtive glances back at him. Then she would speak in English - much less quietly - after which it was she making the furtive glances. He gathered that the cat and mouse game wasn't over, and a little wave of excitement came over him.

Mood: gloomygloomy
Music: 14,000 Things To Be Happy About - Troubled Hubble

Raccoon update Jul. 12th, 2005 @ 08:28 am
After a few days absence, the baby raccoons returned for a visit last night, and I now have one of them taking peanuts from my hand! I don't know why I enjoy interacting with wild creatures so much, but something like that just really makes my day. The Momma is quite a bit more skittish than her kids, and she's unusually skinny for a raccoon in our neighborhood, who usually tend towards the extremes of obesity. She continues to keep a 10-foot radius from me while the kids chow down, watching the kids and making these worried noises that sound somewhere between a cat purring and a cricket chirping. I think she'd really rather the kids be a bit more wary of me. I think she just needs to loosen up a bit.
Music: Paul Anka - Smells Like Teen Spirit (cover)

Who'da thunk? Jul. 11th, 2005 @ 09:42 am
You scored as Cultural Creative. Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.

Cultural Creative
















What is Your World View? (updated)
created with QuizFarm.com

Incredible(s) Jul. 11th, 2005 @ 09:23 am
I finally cracked the DVD open and watched The Incredibles again yesterday. Pardon the redundancy, but what an incredible movie. I think I have a crush on Violet, or at least, her character is constructed of the stuff upon which my crushes attach. There's just so much to love about this story and the way it's told. I love the way society's imposition of mediocrity is portrayed. I love the contrast in vitality that Mr. Incredible possesses between his circumstantially-imposed self and his true self. I love that Elastigirl's hips are wide like a mother's. Good, good stuff.
Mood: chipperchipper
Music: Elvis Costello

Jul. 9th, 2005 @ 09:51 pm
I'm so drunk
Mood: drunkdrunk
Music: nothing

I Like the Way You Smell - Part Deux Jul. 9th, 2005 @ 08:58 am

He knew he'd been invited, sure as if it had been spoken to his face. It amused him how much the indirectness of it all suited him; a more direct approach would have required the same from him in response, and that thought made him uncomfortable. In a perfect world, he thought, this would all be done by telepathy: people would flirt silently and secretly in the midst of crowds, exchanging giddy thoughts and leaving those not in on the secret none the wiser. He smiled to himself.

As a matter of course, the first thing on his agenda was to make sure the wedding ring was noticed. He couldn't understand men who did the opposite, men so desperate for an immediate physical interlude that they would mask any part of themselves they considered a hinderance in that pursuit. He felt a bit of satisfaction at having an eternal advantage over those men. He always had his willingness to walk away, to leave them to their pathetic pleading and arm twisting and truth twisting. No, he would not go forward until she had noticed the ring, and he did not want her to be indifferent to it.

Mood: rushedrushed
Music: Garbage - Bleed Like Me

I don't like hot girls. Jul. 8th, 2005 @ 11:49 am
I don't like hot girls. It never seemed so simple before. There they are, always, everywhere, in swarms, blending into a background of magazines and advertisements, forking over cash for the privilege of having their asses used as billboards for hawking glamour brands like Bebe and Abercrombie and Hollister, body jewelry dangling everywhere like obnoxious fishing lures, thick layers of conceit and contrived pride slathered on like cheap makeup... blechhhh.

Has suburbia completely extinguished those contemplative, reluctant dreamers? ...those whose dreams so move them that the thought of pursuing them is terrifying?

“...the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”

-Jack Kerouac (On the Road)

Mood: artisticartistic
Music: Baby Animals - One Word

I like the way you smell. Jul. 8th, 2005 @ 09:52 am
"She was active, awkward, and unsophisticated, but none would have surmised any of this by watching her in her stillness. Her clothing clung to her body here and there with exclamation points; in other places, it shimmered over the air between itself and her, the illusion of transparency voicing protest at concealing the miracle that was her form. Despite her best efforts, her flirtations knew no subtlety. When she found herself intrigued by someone, she became a flurry of nervous utterances aimed at a companion but begging to be overheard. This day, through the din of a lazy summer afternoon, her words steered their way through all the competing sounds and found their mark. [...]"
Mood: restlessrestless
Music: Fountains of Wayne - Maureen

Conspiratory Chill Jul. 7th, 2005 @ 10:36 am

Just a sweet memory that someone brought to mind...

Conspiratory Chill
by JLT

Are we lovers ill-fated
like August
with winter soon to wake?
Our hot, live skins
cool much too quickly here
in winds of envy
under wings of angels
flapping wildly at their wish
to be flesh.
Mood: enthralledenthralled
Music: Alanis Morissette - Front Row

One... two... three... four... five! Jul. 7th, 2005 @ 09:14 am
So I'm reclining on the couch - finishing up the canneloni I'd picked up for dinner & catching a repeat episode of Lost that I'd missed on its first run - when five baby raccoons stroll right past my patio door. QUICK! Man the peanuts! It's been two or three summers now since we've last seen Rocco, our favorite lively & engaging raccoon who used to actually come in the house and jump up in my lap or even climb up my jeans leg to get a handful of peanuts. Of course, I'd be vacuuming  peanut shells out of the carpet for a week after one of his visits, but it was worth it.

The babies are just irresistably cute. I threw a handful of peanuts out on the patio right after they walked by, and sure enough, it wasn't three minutes before they came back to investigate. I'm not sure how old they are (they're about the size of large kittens), but the process of getting peanuts out of their shells was obviously new to them. When the first handful was exhausted, I opened the patio door to toss out a second. My little guests scurried away, but only temporarily - despite my staying by the door & leaving it open.

I spent the next half hour or so playing the role of peanut-dispenser, and the raccoons seemed to get increasingly comfortable with my presence. I didn't manage to get any of them to take a nut from my hand, but I expect they'll be coming back in the days & weeks to come.

Yeesh, am I ever a sucker for suburban wildlife.
Mood: cheerfulcheerful
Music: Phish - Golgi Apparatus

Get Lost (Troubled Hubble) Jul. 1st, 2005 @ 12:17 pm
"There is so much anger behind your beauty, there is so much beauty behind your anger and what comes out is like bloody feet on a sandy beach in my favorite season."
Mood: deviousdevious
Music: Poi Dog Pondering - Jackass Ginger

surprised Jun. 29th, 2005 @ 01:20 am
sunrises are pornography, and
blood is for latex-clad, sanitary, tasteless
bundles of nerve fibers
- and love is for fucking.

and has it ever occurred to you
that our centers of gravity
are in our crotches?
...probably for a reason -
probably because love is for fucking.

here our spirits are energy-efficient
ionizing ozone stench factories
to homogenize the stale air of our fuck parlors,
to eradicate the odor
of ripe currants and berries,
coconuts, lime and sweet tobacco,
bar soaps and old books and muddy Aprils.

they sing to us and keep us from distraction,
give us slippery new indirections
that we can carry close to us

and i always thought
that mind was for sensing:
surveillance of nerves
with a sentience of blood -
blood intended for love,
but then love is for fucking.
Mood: cynicalcynical
Music: raul midon - state of mind
Other entries
» socks
scrounging behind dryers
through lint balls and filth
already have plenty
of shoes and feet
got a check mark next to
happy ever after
but still i'm in need
of a sheer silken partner
so stray from your basket
and roll up with me
» Commercial Candour
Commercial Candour

(On the outside of a sensational novel is printed the
statement: 'The back of the cover will tell you the plot.')

Our fathers to creed and tradition were tied,
They opened a book to see what was inside,
And of various methods they deemed not the worst
Was to find the first chapter and look at it first.
And so from the first to the second they passed,
Till in servile routine they arrived at the last.
But a literate age, unbenighed by creed,
Can find on two boards all it wishes to read;
For the front of the cover shows somebody shot
And the back of the cover will tell you the plot.

Between, that the book may be handily padded,
Some pages of mere printed matter are added,
Expanding the theme, which in case of great need
The curious reader mignt very well read
With the zest that is lent to a game worth the winning,
By knowing the end when you start the beginning:
While our barbarous sires, who would read every word
With a morbid desire to find out what occured
Went drearily drudging through Dickens and Scott.
But the back of the cover will tell you the plot.

The wild village folk in earth's earliest prime
Could often sit still for an hour at a time
And hear a blind beggar, nor did the tale pall
Because hector must fight before Hector could fall:
Nor was Scheherazade required, at the worst,
To tell her tales backwards and finish them first;
And the minstrels who sang about battle and banners
Found the rude camp-fire crowd had some notion of manners.
Till Forster (who pelted the people like crooks,
The Irish with buckshot, the English with books),
Established the great educational scheme
Of cumpulsory schooling, that glorious theme.
Some learnt how to read, and the others forgot,
And the back of the cover will tell you the plot.

O Genius of Business! O marvellous brain,
Come in place of the priests and the warriors to reign!
O Will to Get On that makes everything go—
O Hustle! O Pep! O Publicity! O!
Shall I spend three-and-sixpence to prchase the book,
Which we all can pick up on the bookstall and look?
Well, it may appear strange, but I think I shall not,
For the back of the cover will tell you the plot.

—G.K. Chesterton
» I'm Pretty Sure I Can See Molecules

I'm Pretty Sure I Can See Molecules

I see molecules and I see you, I see the way that matter scatters out and makes things move. I see the backs of my eyelids have never looked so beautiful, there's shapes and light with eyes so tight and swirling little pixels. It's a funny seeming, fuzzy feeling to think about all I'm seeing, all that is, birds and fish, plants and apes and annelids. Traffic smoke and atmosphere, it's a one way ticket out of here, it's a science you can trust, it's a molecule and it's here with us.

Finally I'm right, Finally you're wrong, I've seen molecules all along.

To be young and dumb and innocent, to fear your life and want to live, to sleep and wake naturally, to treat your brain how it's supposed to be. One with nature, two for tea, three's a crowd and all for me, to walk the plank, find the shark, underwater, in the dark. The air we breathe, it comes from trees, not carried by air and sky, but is the breeze. Chlorophyll and bits of rice, ice cold water and warmed up ice, fish eat plankton and plankton is, molecules as food for fish.

Finally I'm right, Finally you're wrong, I've seen molecules, all along.

I see molecules and I see you, I see friends in stars and faces in moons, and I see molecules I see light I see colors and shapes in the middle of the night. And finally I'm right, finally you're wrong, finally I dance with confidence to songs, that sing of hope and love and truth, when you're nothing, you're still something, you're molecules.

(Troubled Hubble)

» A common disaster
A common disaster

A candle burning for everything I've ever wanted
A tattoo burned for everything I've ever wanted and lost
I had a long list of names that I kept in my back pocket,
but I've cut it down to one and your name's at the top

Won't you share a common disaster?
Share with me a common disaster
A common disaster

I found myself a friend,
but he's crooked as a stick in water
So now I'm writing fairy tales
to catch the spirit of revenge
He's got a plan to steal my little sister,
but I'm not too concerned
'cause I will get him in the end

Won't you share a common disaster?
Share with me a common disaster
A common disaster

Going to find me someone to share
A common disaster
Run away with me from a life so cramped and dull
Not worry too much about the happily-ever-after
Just keep the Caddy moving
'til we're well beyond that hill

Won't you share a common disaster?
Share with me a common disaster
A common disaster

-Cowboy Junkies
» A random assortment
It was moonlit and breezy and warm when she came looking for me. This all was oddly made more exciting because she had him drive her around to find me. It started with a casual conversation between strangers on a path earlier in the day, but this day - this day had a spell to cast, and it weaved it all over the sunset and through the trees that twisted the moonlight into shapes from another world. He pulled up next to the driver's side of my car with her in the passenger seat. "Hey!" "Hey, wasn't sure if I'd see you again..." "Well you did." "Yeah, I did! Ha." "But did you want to?"


On another note, being blown off sucks a little bit, but wondering if you've been blown off sucks worse. But I'm starting to handle it differently from how I used to, and I think this works for me. My new motto? "Bail Early." Well, that and be a little more stingy with the "benefit of the doubt" thing. But seriously, is it so hard for adults to say "listen, I know we had plans, but I'm going to have to bail/reschedule/etc"? Or shit, even "yanno, I'm just not sure we should even do this, or that I want to"? Further, why is it so hard to say it in advance, instead of during (or even after) the time for said plans has arrived? I mean, I'm frequently late for stuff, but still, if I say I'm gonna be there, then I'm gonna be there, or else I'm gonna let them know that I'm not going to make it / don't want to make it as soon as I know I'm not going to make it. Blecchhchchchchc. Okay, it's outta my system, so rant ovah.

So 24 is on tonight. Woo hoo!

I need to buy a new toilet base because I cracked mine overtightening the nuts that hold the base to the floor trying to stop a leak. I have a feeling this is going to be a [understatement]somewhat-less-than-pleasant[/understatement] chore, but I'd best get at it before I have a house full of shitwater.

I'm actually working my ass off at this new work assignment, which feels surprisingly good. My brain & body both feel like they're waking up from a long spell of running at half throttle. My house is cleaner than it's been in months, and even though it would still probably horrify a stranger, I'm happy with the progress.

I think I'll go do some more work now.
» Wreck of the Day
What an amazing effing lyricist... Anna Nalick is what, like 20 years old?  Her album hits stores on April 19th...

Wreck of the Day

Driving away from the wreck of the day
And the light's always red in the rear-view
Desperately close to a coffin of hope
I'd cheat destiny just to be near you
If this is giving up, then I'm giving up
If this is giving up, then I'm giving up, giving up
On love, On love

Driving away from the wreck of the day
And I'm thinking 'bout calling on Jesus
'Cuz love doesnt hurt so I know I'm not falling in love
I'm just falling to pieces
And if this is giving up then I'm giving up
If this is giving up then I'm giving up, giving up
On love, On love

Maybe I'm not up for being a victim of love
All my resistance will never be distance enough

Driving away from the wreck of the day
And it's finally quiet in my head
Driving alone, finally on my way home to the comfort of my bed
And if this is giving up, then I'm giving up
If this is giving up, then I'm giving up, giving up
On love, On love

» Frustrated
So it looks like I'm going to have to be in Ohio all of next week, and I'm kinda frustrated about that. The following weekend is somewhat "special" to me, and I was hoping to have the house a bit more organized. Instead, it's going to be an absolute disaster - with two overlapping sets of travel arrangements, packing, plus me having to get 2 computers ready for a work week at a new job, a lack of sleep, and... and...


My place is going to be effing embarassing, and I'm going to be frazzled from an intense work week, tons of driving, and a lack of sleep.

Still, perhaps all that won't count against the weekend once I'm in it. I'll just have to wait and see. These scenery changes will probably work their way into the next part or two of the "fantasy" thing though, whether I want them to or not.
» I Love Thunderstorms
It's 69 degrees out and about to storm here. Nothing drives home the fact that spring is here like a good thunderstorm. Multi-leveled clouds are swirling by, with big vertical whisps that look almost tornado-like. The air is electric. I love it.
» A fantasy in several parts: Part III
I have to laugh at the awkwardness now. It's awkward, but comfortably and deliciously so. I look at her and smirk, awkwardly of course. She smirks back, saying "What?!"

"What, what?!" is my eloquent response.

We both have long lists of things to do before we die - you'd think we'd both be bubbling over with suggestions for what to do next. I ponder why I was in such a mad rush to pick her up at the earliest possible opportunity... it's so, so... early. We do have long lists of movies we want to show each other, but I'm loathe to suggest something that screams "I'm in a hurry to get you alone and get in your pants" as movie-watching quite yet. Movie renting, maybe - yes, browsing, discussing & renting would be fine, and that could entail a shopping trip involving much people watching. Yes! People-watching! I'm sure we'd both enjoy the hell out of that (at the expense of the passersby, of course).

It's funny how - even with all the electronic flirting, all the implicit, explicit, and innuendo-laden conversations we've had - that this still feels like a first meeting to me. In one sense, it's already a tryst. In another, we're just two people with a lot of overlapping interests, and we could probably have a hell of a time with or without a mutual physical attraction.

Neither of us are as bold or forward in the flesh as we are in writing, and the unexpected blessing out of that is that we're each enjoying these jitters. All our past conversations make an interesting emotional backdrop for things, and for now it seems good to just let those topics remain as a backdrop...
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