bittersweet.

Well...THAT didn't take very long.

A different kind of therapy.

RRAWWWWRRRR! Take that. Oh, NOT SAFE FOR WORK! Lots and lots of cussing!



*******************************************************************************
This next story might gross you guys out a little bit. For the last week, I have watched a caterpillar dying on my bathroom floor. Yeah, I know. I have nothing to defend myself, it was a total act of animal cruelty...or indifference. First of all, I have no idea how the caterpillar got into my bathroom, I figured it hitched a ride on my dad's pants or something. Or that he just wandered in there by himself. So I figured he would know how to get out. And every day, I thought I would just wake up and in the middle of the night, the caterpillar would have just figured out how to wiggle his way out of the grout and outside somehow. Not so, every single day, I've watched the caterpillar waste away. And then I just started waiting for him to...pass. But every time that darn squishy worm got wet from my shower, he seemed to reanimate. Initially, he just started becoming a little nuisance, something that I had to avoid while stepping out in my myopic state. Finally, this morning, I gave the little dude a casual funeral.

I dunno what made me not want to save this little thing's life. I think it's the depression seething out after setting in. But I hurt, I hurt at my core. I hurt so much in just this moment that my teeth ache. It didn't take very long for HER to place herself squarely back in his life. To reclaim her shallow grade victory, even to falsely claim the one, bittersweet entry that was mine. I let you go, because in my own way, I care about you. Releasing you gently, kindly, the most mature way I know how. Release you back into your self made iron cage of guilt, shame, manipulation, jealousy and obsession masquerading as love and friendship. She's made you believe that she will be the only one. I KNOW that it is a sorely won battle that will not triumph in the war. Sadly...that is what you choose now.

Laddie: "Wanna see me use a semicolon?"
Pen: "Oh yeah, ahah."
Laddie: "BAM!"

Furry orange therapy

Trying to distract yourself is like trying to not watch a car accident when you drive by. You try and try, and you KNOW you know better than to watch. Rubbernecking just causes traffic jams and frustration, you might see something absolutely horrifying or you might just get into an accident yourself. And you remind yourself all of these things as you slow down and drive by.

But you still look. It's hard not to.

Have been doing a lot of things lately that allot weird free time and therefore make healthy distractions harder. You know, it's when you schedule an appointment or a meeting or a reading and there's not enough time for you to go home, but there's just a little too much time to kill. It's what your typical book/magazine/DVD/cafe superstore is for (the Borders people? Genuises), or in my case Church street. Within the same 75 ft. radius there's clothes/accessories, several restaurants, two salons and a bookstore. Bookstores always bring back childhood memories; my parents were, and still are, fond of hitting up bookstores on a Friday or Saturday night after dinner. There's something about a good used bookstore that promotes wandering and before you know it, you've blown 20 minutes reading about how to make a stereo out of pinecones or listening to new music. You don't buy anything you don't have to and you can still learn something new or pleasurable.

Yesterday, with a chunk of time and the chill air, quickly nipped into Aardvark's Used Books before my reading. The smell of fraying pages and glossy covers, comforting. Behind the homemade counter - an elderly Koreander type, scrutinized each attendee before returning to his own tome. And I soon was lost in the ceiling scraping shelves, packed with words and stories and pictures. But cruising down one of the aisles, I was confronted by another resident lordly sentinel.

For the frequent readers of the bloggityog, you probably know why I'm trying to keep myself distracted. And honestly, nothing said distraction more than a 10lb. bundle of orange colored tabby love plopped squarely between me and travel.

Golden eyes fixated on my outstretched hand and our intial meeting ended in nothing more than your typical kitty cat brush off. But on our second encounter, in front of a stack of music books ('natch), Lord Kitty decided he would rather jump a seat on my squatted lap. At first, it was a gentle head butt, then a full on purr-fest. Cuddling this cat, made me feel better. I know that it's ludicrous to believe that animals can sense your feelings, but somehow knowing that something, somewhere still wanted to snuggle up to me (and my down stuffed coat) made me feel ok. It's been hard knowing where to turn or what to do lately. Do I want or need to hold a hand that isn't 100% invested in that moment? Pets on the other hand, are fully in the moment of being held and loved and aren't interested in being anywhere else but there. Skeptics will say that of course kitty wanted to be held and petted and loved, but I stick to the belief that in his own cat way, he was offering me up a type of comfort too.

After a while of gentle head scratching, my thighs started to ache. Levering my new buddy off his haunches onto the floor with a gentle, "That's enough baby," I realized that there's been a proverbial change in me. Even when I make the rules, someone will still want to snuggle. Good to know.

ps. have been thinking of going tandem skydiving lately. If you want to go, let me know.

respond.

You're right. I won't.

But don't get bitter because I did what was right for me.

You wanted happiness.

So do I.

i used to be cool

I heard this song while driving to rehearsal last night and liked it so much that I actually dug out a pen to scribble it down. It's Ludovico Einaudi's 'Due Tramonti' which translates to 'Two Sunsets'. Gorgeous.

Wow...below is my Frienster profile from like 2003. Whack.

I'm not cool. I am nowhere near cool. Many people have let me know that they don't think I'm cool. I may never BE cool. But I'm ok with that. And, I'm wearing pants. I miss Comedy Central (damn you Comcast)and the Muppet Show. I make endless to do lists and then proceed to not do anything on them. I do not have a deviated septum. I like to sleep in but rarely do. I remember names and faces from fifteen years past, but can't recall any mathematical theorem worth crap. I am very hard to please. Things I have first panned then later relished with pleasure: capri pants, skiing and frappucinos. I enjoy complex sentence structure, but cannot be bothered to string it together. I can often think up things like; my favorite book, movie, tv show on my own, but I draw blanks on all if prompted to do so. I LOVE to think up names for my fictional band. My favorite song to perform is, "Son of a Preacher Man." I can type about 80 wds per min, but not quietly. I enjoy buffing my fingernails religously. I think I have hobbit feet. I do not work in a cube; it's more like an open sided octagon. I am the only person I know that saw Matrix Reloaded and liked it better than the first Matrix. I kill houseplants, so don't ask me to watch yours. I am on a very long road to finding happiness but am being held back by fear, resignation and the obstacle of having a family that's crunchy liberal on the outside, secretly straight as an assrod conservative Asian on the inside. I like giving up my seat for old ladies on the bus. If you tell me what to do, there is a 50% chance I won't do it, just based on the fact that I hate people telling me what to do. I am trying very hard to impress you...

If I had to describe myself using only adjectives; eclectic, hyper-sensitive, do-gooder, sometimes shallow, on time, contradictory but ultimately nice.

My other profile is: "I'm weird."
word. (to your mother)

chitown city.

Rawbean, Buckethead...this one's for you. (via Rob Huebel of Human Giant)



How a Chi-town playah does it for the ladeez.

*sourcecode

"Rely on the source whose capabilities are equal to the requirements of your program"

Rules:
* Grab the book closest to you. Now.
* Go to page 56.
* Find the 5th sentence.
* Write that sentence as your status.
* Copy these instructions as a comment to your status.
* Don't go looking for your favorite book, or the coolest one you have -- just grab the closest one.

Repost and try people! Mine is from a design book ('natch), called The Big Book of Color-in-Design that I got when MissQueeter was an editor at Harpers, but I think it's actually rather appropriate and Zen when you think about it.

I also posted a review of Bar Tartine over at Yelp...if you're really THAT bored. :)

Prime directive yo.

I fucking love geeks. (via Pajiba)



The funniest word I have heard today? Tofucken, the vegetarian equivalent of Turducken. There are also some crazy ass directions to make tofucken, like: 9. Bake about 20 minutes or until you burn your fingers when you stick them into the Tofucken. Tofucken can also be used as a verb.
Q: Did you bang that hot vegan chick last night?
A: Oh yeah, there was a lot of tofucken going on.
(no tempeh was harmed in the making of the tofucken)