winter


time time time see what's become of me


while I looked around for my possibilities I was so hard to please


hear the salvation army band


down by the riverside it's bound to be a better ride than what you've got planned


carry your cup in your hand


hang on to your hopes my friend


that's an easy thing to say but if your hopes should pass away it's simply pretend that you can build them again


look around the grass is high the fields are ripe it's the springtime of my life


seasons change with the scenery weaving time in a tapestry


won't you stop and remember me at any convenient time


funny how my memory slips while looking over manuscripts of unpublished rhyme


drinking my vodka and lime


look around leaves are brown now and the sky is a hazy shade of winter

that song is in my head in january.

Ok, great so yesterday I slipped on the ice and fell into my car and now I have a black eye. The weather has officially beaten me up.
And now I get to go to the office, sleepy and in a fair amount of pain.

Bad weather, stairs, someday an inanimate object will actually be the end of me, death by sidewalk or lack thereof.

If you need me, I will be the one wearing sunglasses in this hazy shade of winter.

I started writing this last night but was too tired to finish- the first paragraph takes place between the hours of late and later, Jack Bauer is nowhere to be found (shocking, I know):
Well nobody tells me the world is freezing all around me and to buy bread and bananas and all that other good stuff cause here it is at such an ungodly hour and I am so hungry and everything's just impossibly frozen. My car is chrystalline! It's beautiful cause inside feels like an igloo or maybe just the inside looking out of a photoshop filter.

I am full and warm now and want more than anything to go into food coma mode but I am gonna force myself to wedge the saab out of it's tiny tundra and go to publix and buy foodstuffs for to have at home. Usually I don't bother because my meals are for the most part consumed at work or on the outabouttowns but the weather is simply too ridiculous, too ridiculous to not own my very own jar of non-expired peanut butter, to have xanax bars but not one bar of the snacking or energy variety...what do I eat anyways? My meals largely consist of the same five take-out boxes, things that won't make me nauseated or something overpriced from eatzis. Yes, I will re-acquaint myself with the supermarket aisles. I will buy something beige. I will be the girl in the turquoise dress buying something beige.

Kevin is my new food hero, because when it was so late and my car was so so frozen at it's most frozen he volunteered to risk life and limb and truck bumper to fetch breakfast items from the majestic so I would not go to sleep hungry- alas the world outside the parking deck had other ideas. Though I did not witness such bravery first-hand, I heard that upon seeing the road, the brakes and steering immediately threw in the towel and decided to just plain not work. On a decline no less, and you know what that means- imminent danger. Sliding and crashing and explosions and random airstrikes by power-mad dinosaur armies who somehow got ahold of the opposable thumbs needed to fly warplanes. And also got a hold of warplanes.
It was then decided that pancakes were not worth the risk, especially pancakes which may or may not contain random pieces of blue sponge.

Earlier I managed to disengage enough ice from it's car stronghold to open the trunk (saabs are all trunk, like J-lo i tellya) and get the actual ice-scraping tool contained within. It was quite the o.henry moment I thought to myself while jabbing at the ice, ice flying everywhichway. Ice jabbing, motherfucking ice jabbing. A more cathartic wintertime activity there never was, though I cannot imagine having to go through that shit every morning. (note to self buy that ice-away stuff and coat car in thin layer of suspect chemicals) Oh and pizza was consumed did I mention that we finally got food? It was from the altered state of drugachusetts mellow mushroom.

Come to think of it I do not recall ever having had a "food hero" before only cigarette heroes and now I have that bowie song "Heroes" in my head, except it's the version sung by ewan and nicole in moulin rouge..."and I'll drink a lot!" (did I ever mention that when bowie did that song in the encore he opened it with those lyrics? It was, in retrospect, just on this side of surreal.)
Ok that is all for right now because I have to continue with wintry mix '05 activities, things are just so much more exciting when they are frozen don't you think?

THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE PICTURE OF THE DAY:



from K-Rock news:
...Actor Will Farrell opened the show by telling the capacity crowd all the music would be live and there would be "No Ashlee Simpson Bullsh*t." He then went on to perform a lip-synched version of Coldplay's "Clocks." Seated at a piano, Farrell jokingly pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, took bites of a sandwich, read the newspaper and even took a nap during his "performance," afterwards he begrudgingly admitted to lip-synching.

Beck hit the stage next and performed a few songs, including "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes," from the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind soundtrack and "Lost Cause"- during which Will Ferrell came out dressed in a red body suit and did an interpretive dance to the tune, which culminated in him humping Beck's pump organ. Beck stopped a few times to politely tell him to stop.

Shaq, Today's Events, and You: A Brief Overview

Shaq arrives at 3:34 because he always arrives in Atlanta at that time. I will be gazing out the window up 400 and see him making his way down to Phillips Arena on a magic flying Kazaam carpet, and then his entourage would get a message from air traffic control down at Hartsfield saying that he couldn't land on the arena cause there are regulations on flying carpets (or any flying inanimate object) and his entourage would be like like "you can't put regulations on Shaq" and they'd have to obey cause he's just that awesome. Plus he'd be rapping the whole time.
After the mess with Hartsfield-JACKSON (how easily you forget) he lands on the roof of Phillips. A Golden Segway is waiting on him. He quickly navigates the stairs and is immediately out on the street when he bumps into Rippy (who is taking a break from the fast-paced world of nonstop news broadcasting). Shaq asks ol' Rip for a cig, and they share a smoke and a tale. A tale about the horse farms right outside of town. Shaq is worried that there wont be a horse his size, but Rippy recalls the legend of LORDASUS the largest horse in America. Included in this legend is the fact that LORDASUS does, in fact, actually dwarf Shaq. Shaq, in disbelief, throws Rippy on his back and they hi-tail it out of town. Arriving at said dude ranch, Rip guides the King of Basketball and Cellular Phone Burgers straight to THE STABLE. There is much tussle inside. The doors bust open and THE LORDASUS is standing directly above Shaq, stomping, gale force puffs of wind exiting his nostrils. Shaq is scared for the first time in his life, but remains confident. He grabs a lock from the horse's mane and whips his big ass leg right over the top of LORDASUS before the horse could blink. "But no man, human or deity hath been able to tame this creature" Rippy yells. LORDASUS, however, had yet to meet the Lord of the Earth. Shaq slams his heels into the midsection of the horse and they gallop off back towards the city with a majesty only afforded to greatness such as their's. Before dissappearing into the sunset, Shaq pulls a flag from his cargo pants and holds it so all can read: Camp Shaq. He scores 50 tonight.

(as contributed to by dehumidifier and coke bref, both former youth counselors at Camp Shaq)

here is another picture I threw together using the magic of photoshop and it's many many...many filters:



And this is what I have been doing in lieu of anything remotely constructive for corporate america.

Hi, I am working this weekend. Of course I am working this weekend.
I feel like one of those "not quite dead yet" bodies from monty python's holy grail. My life is currently a series of elevators, catchphrases and vodka tonics. It's tiring. It's not terrible. At least it's something, you know? And now I am gonna hit up the dollar bins at tower, because let's face it: screw working out.

I just spent a goddamn hour "driving" north on the connector, trying to get back to the office through a six-deep parade of confused drivers all wondering when the line's gonna end, and nobody knew and I still don't know cause I took the first available exit only to be met with a similar sort of madness on peachtree.
I went home to get my workout gear, though it all seems rather moot now. I probably won't have time to work out due to time lost in traffic. That's not to say I won't try my damndest because this is today, and today is the first time I have felt like excercizing in...oh, what the archaic brits might call donkey's years.

In other news, I have procured seven new Beck tracks and am working on six others. So far I like what I hear- "Hell Yes" being the repetitive low point (though still not too shabby, as far as potential dance tracks) and a song titled "Que Onda Guero" being the high, though who wouldn't love a song that includes lyrics such as "sleepin' in the sidewalk with a Burger King crown" (runbetterrunadoo-runrun)- I want to dance to this song like you wouldn't believe.
Oh, and the song also includes some guy yelling "Michael Bolton!" in the background.

Here is a picture of Beck to break the words:



Let's just look at Beck for a second....yesss...

Ok, meeting.

Conversation between two women sharing my most recent elevator ride:
"It's cold outside."
"Not nearly as cold as it was yesterday."
"Man, it was cold yesterday!"
"Oh, I know. I'm glad it's not that cold today."
"Tell me about it. Yesterday was just too cold."
Note to self: message Mamet about possible run-for-his-money dialogue.

Oh well what now. Massive barrage of work is at a temporary standstill until everything is presented to the client tomorrow morning. I am hiding and typing and hoping no wayward traffic person wanders in here looking for headline revisions. Every now and then I add a sentence or maybe two sentences to the letter I began writing last night- it is for my bestfriendbffstyle sara jane, who lives in Seattle and does not have a computer, so my letter must snail-it clear across the country, then vice-versa, and so far so clear because she moved away three years ago and packages/postcards/somethingelseses are still being sent and still being recieved. Sometimes lack of email/ichat is nothing short of beautiful. I am on page seven of the letter- no end in sight. Our phone conversations are so sporatic that every time I have a new boy to go on and on about, silly it's all just so silly and she has been with the same one for awhile now and it's beautiful, like I said, beautiful. This is what it is like when your best friend is four time zones behind you and doesn't have the technology to catch you on the side and say hey remember when...
But hey remember when?

Last night I finally wrapped my mother's birthday present, a present which I spent hours picking out on december 31st for her january first birthday. I phoned her greetings in, and the present would be late of course- the discreet charm of my bougeouisie is complete disregard for timing. And even though my mother is very much used to this, I highly doubt she would have guessed it arriving closer to february first than the aforementioned birth-date.
I am happy to note that events as of late have actually made for some decent conversations between my mother and I, her advice for life-prioritization and handing each level thereof was suprisingly good (until she added on that insane bit about age difference, oh there's the mother we all know and love!). And apparently all it takes on my end is to be, during any given conversation, in the process of eating a vegetable.

Oh, look here. It's another one of my "wacky coworkers acting wacky" quicktime movies. At least this one has a bear head in it.

This was giving me playback trouble at the beginning, so yeah it may not work as swimmingly as intended. But never fear- I shall have all kinks smoothed by the Cannes deadline.

Last night I had hours and hours of dreams running the gamut, running away from something horrible induced by falling asleep at the end of annie hall (?), to scene-end-scenes of a lake and a record store and buying a very small house and then losing a u-haul, all of it ending at night with a dead tree shaped like a cross and hundreds of angry workers on strike. Analyze that! you stupid people that made that stupid movie.
I really have nothing new going on that does not involve work or my sleeping patterns or postmodern ennui or ordering shoes and nobody wants to read about that although hell I guess that is what you are reading about right now. Suckers.
Earlier I went to Borders and bought the McSweeneys comic annual, some pseudointellectual dude came up to me and said something about how good it was and I was like "yeah it's McSweeneys". Borders is lousy with pseudointellectual-types and yeah I guess you're not too shabby on the eyes, unfortunately it's in that "I really wanna talk about Foucault" kinda way, which gets annoying in oh let's say about five seconds. Flat.
Ok adult swim must run, Ciaomybebes!

I'm trying to remember what awake feels like, I'm trying to remember like stanislavski remembers and methodically act like I am giving someone my full attention while most of my body dozes off without me. Dozing off into the ground and just when I think I have run myself too far into the ground I manage to scrape by like a goddamn indie pop song we all scrape by.
I am currently smack in the middle of using garageband (the most user-friendly thing ever because look at me I am using it) to write something like a song for use at work. Not a jingle, just a little ditty I would say due to the lack of words. Although I would LOVE to write a jingle unfortunately we have no cereal or Fanta accounts. wanna fanta, don't you wanna-
Ok, I gotta go get some strawberry soda cause there is never a dull moment.

UPDATE!! The garageband tune is finished and I am now listening to a song called "Two Dolphins" by Sea and Cake. Cake. Dolphins. Cake and dolphins. Wrap your minds around that one, folks!

"You need a vacation. To an island. With animals- cute ones."
"Kitten Island?"
"Yeah. They make you little mai tais. And they wear little aprons.
'"Nice."
"And put on a show at night."
"Now I want a mai tai."
"A burlesque show."



KITTEN ISLAND IS AWESOME LOOK YOU GUYS IT IS FILLED UP FULL OF KITTENS!

(picture by kpq, esq.)

The "Door Close" button on the elevator is a complete sham. Those doors are taking their sweet time no matter how button-happy you appear to be. Interstate driving in afternoon haze with slow r.e.m., steady pace on the 9-11 minute travel time, it feels like driving through thin vaseline. This is all I want it's all I need, this is all I am it's everything.Here is a side note that is only relevant to the extremely near future: do not get on the connector southbound- something occured which caused all lanes to be blocked thus causing no one to be connected to anything at all. Meaning to say the road is a complete failure, and chopper ten is covering every humiliating detail.
My life is currently operating under the control of script revisions and glassy-eyed concepting sessions. I need a nap, and as much as I would love to think that the weekend promises rest, I have a feeling I will be working at the most inconvenient hour possible.

Here is something to do: you are rather dashing!

attention kind citizens:

If you should see this young man wandering aimlessly about the streets of atlanta, do not say to him: "hey look it's tobey macguire!" because it is not. Kevin got a haircut. And besides you are thinking of Elijah Wood.










this update has been brought to you by the committee for monitoring the every activilty of kevin quinn, esq., subcommittee, grooming, hair.

INTEROFFICE EMAIL AND WHAT IT CAN DO FOR YOU!


(all of these went to the entire department, btw)

From: Rick Kourchenko
Subject: NFC/AFT Title Games

Anybody want to get a group and watch 'em? EspnZone?



From: Rick Bryson
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

You better start camping out now for seats in that place come Sunday.



From: Jill Spradley
Subject: Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

Seriously...cause I'm planning on going over to the espn'zone right now to reserve the good booths, and if I have to I will subside on nothing but jalapeno poppers, mr pibb, and a nonstop barrage of awesome sports activities for people who actually suck at sports just so I can laugh when I have all the good seats and yet still have no idea what the nfc/aft title game is.
On a related note, there is a small chance I will be out of office the rest of the week.



From: Evan Brown
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

just so long as you can get seats in front of the multiple big screens so i won't miss a second of all the jam packed sports action.
especially any and all pre-game interviews, and that tasty grainy classic nfl films footage.



From: Jill Spradley
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

Big screens? Oh, wait I was actually thinking of Autozone.
Sorry, my mistake.




From: Evan Brown
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

on your way to auto zone before you go to espn zone can you stop by pizza hut and pick me up a p'zone?




From: John Spalding
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

unsubscribe

Nothing makes sense anymore except for things impossible to deconstruct.

I have never been more impressed by Rilo Kiley than I am at this very moment.

Nobody collected the office trash yesterday so I moved the very full trashcan into the hall and now there are a lot of half-empty cups on my desk. Today I am wearing a minty green hat with carousel horses, it's a wintermint hat if anything and even though everyone has something to say about this hat (especially elevator people) I have yet to tell anyone that it smells like someone else's hat, because it is and that only makes sense. I should probably explain that I am also wearing a wintermint shirt.
The order of the day is instantaneous deadlines, whatever that means. It probably has very little to do with the david lynch short films I am burning onto dvd. No but I am thinking always thinking, concepting or whatever they call it here. This morning I think I woke up with something similar to a headache but I can't be sure, nothing seems to be what I think it is anymore, note to self= appointments (make them), pay bills, function. Function, dammit.
I very much need a cigarette and that is what I am going to do, so that's that.

Blog Dehumidifier presents:
A moment in the life of Jack Bauer.

10:19 A.M.
Kalil discreetly grabs a can of bug spray from the shelves. He tries to spray Jack, but Jack takes him down. "You try that again, and I will kill you," Jack threatens. A police cruiser pulls into the parking lot, and Jack sends all the customers into the freezer. He orders the clerk to make the cop go away. The policeman is suspicious, and Jack takes him in too. He grabs the man's gun, radio and handcuffs. Jack locks him in the freezer with the others.

I am working today. Of course I'm working today. Of course.

Via inter-office mail, subject line "we have got to use this guy":



hell yeah.

this is an attempt to change the subject, I repeat, this is only an attempt:

this is a blog-only exclusive, blog this one is for you:

Well, hello there old blog old pal. How are you? I see that you have managed to amass over 11,000 on the counter down there in the corner. Impressive! And the fact that you somehow managed to do this without me noticing? Sneaky! And still impressive! Why am I just right here and now noticing such a number? Because- and oh you better believe this is not an easy thing to admit- livejournal has been down. Before you start getting all "lj sucks" on up in here (which yes I guess it is overrun by teenagers but what isn't these days its like an infestation) let me explain that livejournal has been the thursday night hour-long teen soap opera that has been missing in my don't-watch-no-tv life. Except, you know. Real (er).
How so you may ask and I will answer with a bit of expository information, being that the dude who caused my latest round of nonsensical angst has a livejournal , a livejournal which relocated from charlotte a mere last summer and found me keeping up appearances in it and was like hey you wanna hang out and I said yeah finally and look at us now!
For the first time in awhiles I am fed and sleepy and want to do nothing more than sleep in my own bed. This is quite the accomplishment on my feeble list of things like remembering not to run the saab off the roaad. Goodnight dear readers. (waves, ascends stairs, still singing)

Waking up near 4pm is bunk. Cause now that I'm dressed and fed the sun is going down, it's cold and cloudy, I'm listening to Iron and Wine and wanting to crawl into the bed of someone with the ability to make me as sad as these songs.
Everything new on the floor smells like someone else, someone lost to another time and another state. And while nothing is near as bad as it sometimes seems, the idea of bringing rooms back to before they knew all the possibilities floors me, below the floors, down to where I dream about rotting houses being slowly digested by kudzu.
I can't even remember what belongs here anymore, when I wake up I still see flat color squares, a window in the corner, someone looking down from that railing telling me heads up to catch everything and I still think it's falling somewhere I just don't know.

this one's for coke bref...and all the shaq/burger/science fans the world over.



(unfortunately this died a watery death, or a fiery death, or maybe it was never shown at all. how much of your mind does THAT blow)

Less than an hour ago I shouted "Hey look! Mimes!" because I have a job in which I do things like anounce theoretical mimes and try to work things like "manifest destiny" into scripts without anyone noticing and then have a chuckle to myself even though it's only funny in one little corner of my brain.

I am going to finish up and then go shopping and then I am going to try my damndest to have a good weekend because hell if I am going to spend another two days off wasting away in seclusion. Well, for now anyways. The hat could drop and the wall could once again get very interesting. But for now I am going to spend the money I saved up the last few weeks by not leaving the house or buying food on disposable dresses and maybe a hat.

Today my favorite word (or compund word, if you care) is "whirling dervish". I want that airbrushed on the side of my saab.



Hey look! Mimes!

(runs away)

Welcome to the occupation!

All I do these days is work. I'm working right now as a matter of fact. The three guys in my group think that I am writing ideas or something and I am really just doing this. I am going to post some pictures I think because I can't form sentences that do not include "network", "connection" or "five bars".

Here is a picture from my office where I am now:

Dog on wheels:

Watching people eat at the majestic...or rather pour pepper all over the food:

Feets between sets:

The saddest shower ever, this is from october i think:

Invitation to a princess:

Gimme clothing:

Here is a picture from new years morning. I seem distracted and kevin looks sick. Yeah, I don't remember:

Jenn spinning records for me to half pay attention to:


back to the work, then the rain, the the winter front.

here is a picture of a dog named dogzilla:

He is trying to go incognito, but because he is a dog he does not realize that he picked the worst disguise ever. I can totally recognize that dog.

here is a picture of what happened when the lab attempted to breed a taco and a pizza:

let this serve as an example of how cruel genetics can be. and also, how delicious.

your questions, answered!

stephanie tanner joined a sorority how lame is that. god, at least try and be interesting. get a twin or something, it worked for your sister.

Nights are difficult and my brain has been unraveling for years. Pictures brought to you by google image search and by viewers like you.

(this has been edited down to two lines of it's original content)

from the i-chat archives...

(screen names obviously changed)

personB: i wish i had a time machine

personB: or atleast something to make it a bit later

Jill: so if you had a time machine all you would use it for was to go three hours into the future?

personB: or 45 minutes

personB: well

personB: i guess not a time machine then

personB: a time quickener

Jill: i would use a time machine to go back to 1985 and kidnap Michael J.Fox from the set of Back to the Future and then go a few years in the future and deposit him on the set of Back to the Future 2...and while i was there I would take Christopher Lloyd to present day and show him what happens to his career should he continue to be in movies, thereby stopping production on baby geniuses 2 before it starts and fucking with marty mcfly's head for no real reason.

Jill: oh and to race my time machine against the delorean

Jill: that too

I do not like this morning. This morning keeps trying to hide me under a thinning layer of fog or maybe just cigarette smoke, it's sunny now but my job just feels like any desk job with meetings and more meetings, me yawning in the corner, I feel motion sick from walking in circles around cubicles. Stop talking about the differences between lexus and bmw sport suvs, just stop talking period.
Every night I want to swing around for an unacceptably long hug and maybe my sleeping patterns will fix themselves into normal. Or not. I don't know what I want really either except to have this morning dread drowned out by pianos and foxhunts, traffic and someone saying wakeup wakeup wakeup softly so the people on the other side of the headboard won't be disturbed.
One hour and then tacos.

the earl on christmas night, what seems like months ago but really just three weeks:

Nothing can wreck a girl's already so/so feelings towards advertising quite like a stay in the cubicle past 11pm when she has already been basking in the glow of florescent light since 10-ok well closer to 11am. Well maybe there are other things or maybe not, some of me is in flux right now and some of me went to sleep years ago so I suppose it's better not to try and sort anything out at the moment. Let's be beautiful and physics and let's let mechanics fall will they will.

today I made a shirt, well sort of- it was once a dress and then I pulled out the scissors and insta-altered like mad:


too much to think like we were astronauts caught in our own gravitational pull.

sleep.

Cingular
:30 Television
"Game On"

Open on a cheeseburger spinning in mid-air. It spins faster and slowly morphs into a spinning basketball.

Pull back to reveal a crowded basketball game.

SFX: Crowds cheering, whistles blowing, general basketball noise.

Focus in on Shaquille O'Neal, who slam-dunks the basketball.

SFX: Guitar solo.

The moment Shaq hits the ground after slam the camera cuts to a close-up. He turns around to reveal he is eating a cheeseburger.
Shaq gives the camera a big "thumbs-up" and begins to speak:

SHAQ: Science is fun!

TITLE CARD: Cingular. Raising the bar.

Good morning. I was dumped last week.
Or rather, I just woke up from a pleasant dream with a violent end, here is me after, in the morning:



Sorry, I am trying to make myself feel better. I keep repeating that I have already been asked out three times since, unfortunately I do not feel like leaving the house...no I'd rather torture myself through livejournal posts and secretly yelling to someone that we were supposed to go see that movie and while I am at home wallowing in self-pity others are having big fun innapropriate jailbait weekend '05.
Somebody wake me up please I am so close to being out of this haze I just know it.

I would get off the computer, but that would require sufficient motivation.

t-shirt shooting bear head:



giant picture of my head:



for an early new year's morning time, make it corona time:



and of course, the battle for sandy springs as illustrated by me on a window at work:





let no lexus remain not overturned!

Ok, now I'm angry. Dare I say even "hoppin' mad". And it's that wonderful irrational anger that will either be taken out on the wrong person or completely supressed because I am hopeless at confrontation. Really there's not a damn thing to be done (nothing that isn't stupid and petty, anyways), which is why I call it irrational, but hell if I still don't want heads to roll. Over people. And then paraded through the revolution-era streets of Paris.

if you happen to have stumbled upon this journal in the very recent past i must look wonderful as all hell. don't worry- the random nonsensical posts should return (hopefully) soon.


here is a picture of a ferret dressed up like superman:

Hello my people! It's concepting time! That is to say, I'm sick 2 def of thinking of ideas, so I need your help.

okokok, here goes: I need situations where something funny happened as a result of not having the correct information, or not having enough information i.e. showing up at a costume party without a costume cause you didn't know. Except, you know. Funnier.

help me...help you... to help me. come on, it'll be fun!





my new ringtone is the family ties theme song. oh yeah I'm awesome.

Oh I finally saw "The Life Aquatic"! I liked it- not as much as RT but I guess I am predisposed to like anything having to do with both Bowie and Cousteau. And that scene with everyone running across the island in diving suits pretty much made the movie.

It reminded me of halloween...I love these two pictures so I will post them again:




(jacques cousteau, people.)

Flat repaired, warranty shown, free tire given. Apparenly I parked too aggresively, and the curb done the damage. I love when blunt objects are responsible for puncture wounds. I am gonna keep killing the same warrantied tire over and over- it would be just quirky enough to be just something. Like alistair hennessey or a donut filled with something simply labeled "filler". (though one might guess it had something to do with unneccessary montages.)
I am gonna finish this wine, see where all the ducks have landed, and then decide how to proceed from there. Everyone kept asking me are you ok and I didn't know if it was the dark circles under my eyes or the sunglasses I was wearing under clouds or the fact that I have been sporting the puzzled ick face like a motherfucking champ. I should have replied with "I've been drinking everyday for the past 7 days, and haven't been able to eat hardly at all.  I think this is the unhealthiest I've been in my whole life". But I don't think they would have understood the indended intent as I barely do in the first place in the first place to begin with.
catch the tact fever!

who needs a cigarette good god.

I am on my way to Decatur to get my tire fixed/new tire. Because I had a flat tire last night. Because, you know. It's this week, and nothing suprises me anymore. Last night I couldn't work up the energy to socialize so after a drink slash watching kevin eat I spent the remainder of the evening ichatting with rippy about ironing and listening to records from the other room. And now I missed my concepting meeting because of the tire- it would figure I finally get promising television work and it has to happen when I am most distracted. I am the worst employee ever sometimes but it's ok because I'm like the novelty "girl" in the department and I prefer to barge into meetings an hour late and yell out a bunch of ideas real fast and then leave than sitting and staring out into buckhead from the ninteenth floor for hours and hours not saying much of anything.
I need to go see some guys about a tire and maybe downtown decatur about a caffeinated beverage. And maybe eat but then again there is the constant nausea that seems to have overthrown my digestion system. The goal today is to work on the story I started but I will probably just end up wasting time on another tangent, somewhere along the lines of lacking consideration and my dog on wheels.

I don't understand how a week can feel like a month. I hope 2005 does not turn into the year of the gaping hole, and I'm just followed around by this sentimenatal toy piano soundtrack giving everything more weight and people just get sick of hearing about it. That's when I'll resort to doing little else than staring at the wall and hoping the atoms do something worth watching. Everyone bickers and nitpicks and raises their voices and has a thing or two to say about why and why not and everyone's angry and I just shrug and wonder why nothing makes sense because I can't think of anything bad to say and yet here I am.

I want a tent where I can play records and play astronaut and sleep because nothing else exists.

there is a distinct swoosh noise


that I recognize


of denim being dropped


onto other garments.




I have not seen such noise-detection skills since the heyday of modernism, which I have also not seen.

UPDATE!!

I just heard an Animal Collective song with a kitten in it.

This is officially the best album ever.

Cause of the kitten, you know what I'm sayin'.

I think I am gonna send my last couple of LJ entries to Conor Oberst and hopefully in ten days he will send me my very own Bright Eyes song.

I hope it is as cool as the time I wrote to Brian Eno about how I could not get to sleep.




You should not call your band "The Animal Collective" unless you can deliver a collection of animals. And I don't mean six elephants I mean like pandas and kittens and shit.




six elephants get it??? GET IT??!!!! good god i'm hilarious.

Ok and someday maybe the sanding and painting will get done and the sink will stop attacking people and that stupid tiny basketball goal will get tacked up and the dartboard will go up and the pictures will go up and the furniture will get built and the and the batteries will be found and the curtains will go up and the floor will be swept for good and the cushions will start working and the brown water will turn clear and everything will go somewhere and everything will look perfect and there will be a dog somewhere who won't recognize me and it would be horrible because everything in my head is still half-finished everything is in the form of exciting new plan and in the form of that drawing on a paper plate and and then I will get sentimental about plywood and November.
It's strange to be the type of person nostalgic for things that were supposed to happen.

plywood, seriously i know.

My summary of 2005 thus far:

Around 24 hours ago my favorite person told me that they would rather spend time being alone than with me.

Apparently my lack thereof is better company, which kind of sucks because I was actually starting to enjoy real things and sober things and it was nice to maybe try and make someone else happy because you think they are lonely and need someone there. But hey, wrong again. Back to pharmaceuticals and shallow hook-ups because that's way better than being with someone you actually like.
I am looking forward to it so much that I have not eaten or slept in 24 hours. I am numb with anticipation.

Oh and I am forgoing resolutions in favor of reasons to get out of bed.

I want to move to a dark room and just not bother anymore.

Happy fucking new year.