I am surprised by the excessive amount of polyester in stores these days. Women’s shirts are dominated by polyester (at least those under $80).
I carelessly purchased a poly shirt or two only to quickly realize that I cannot wear them. Wearing poly make me feel as though I am suffocating and I start to have a minor panic attack. The only other time this happens is if I get excessively thirsty and have no control over my fluid intake, such as on a plane (which is why now I always bring a bottle to fill up or fork out the cash for water once I’ve passed security).
As I shopped for professional blouses the other day (at JCP, Macys, etc), I was so overwhelmed by the amount of poly that just touching it while hanging on the rack started to make me uneasy. So, if you are shopping for me this holiday, please be careful not to purchase poly garments, no matter how cute they are.
Left the house this morning, shaken by a gross-out (see below). On my 2.5-block walk to the subway, I saw the building across the street being emptied, belongings in garbage bags and people in masks. I hope it was fire or water damage, because if it was bedbugs, they were totally irresponsible with how they were handling it. Rounded the corner, only to hear some guy yelling over and over again “f**k the negro race!” There was a fire truck parked near by, and I think they started yelling something back, or maybe it was another driver. Got to the subway and people were running around, but for no discernible reason.
I was so happy to get to work and just hide in the cubical for a bit. When my colleagues arrived, we made some rounds checking on our AT computers. We were pretty punchy (my silliness being leftovers from Wednesday dinner with a couple of my medieval boys.) The work day was pretty normal. Ran by the history dept after work, and ended up chatting for over an hour.
The walk to the subway was the usual chaos, nothing out of the ordinary pain in the butt. However, when I got down to the platform, someone had taken a dump, and the entire platform smelled just awful. Everyone had crowded to one side, and the movement of the trains created wind that carried the stench everywhere.
Part of civilized human maturity is developing habits that differentiate a person from other animals. I had to clean out the drain after a roommate’s shower, and there was nasty boogerness that totally made me gag this morning. I don’t need to be touching someone else’s biowaste; I did that with my last roommate’s blood. Plus, there have been used bandaids in the shower for a couple days. Yuck!
We don’t have a garbage disposal, but a roommate allowed food to go down the drain. Now the sink stinks, has standing water, and breeds fruit flies. Again, I must take it upon myself to scour and Drano.
“I miss the days where you had one phone number and one answering machine. And that one answer machine housed one cassette tape. And that one cassette tape either had a message from a guy or it didn’t. And now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It’s exhausting.”
This is an amazing cover of Queen’s “One Vision.” The video is actually Queen, rather than the Laibach one, but I thought it was funnier that way. I have posted the Laibach video below.
Now I first discovered this song on the Cleopatra compilation “Industrial Revolution.” However, it didn’t stand out until I was working day one and the song came on; I actually laughed out loud in my cubical. Now, you must understand that the Queen song has mnemonic connection for me–it is the song the main character plays in Iron Eagle when he flies. So, this “Tune of the Day” is at least eight years overdue.
Some pig missed me with his spit by six inches. I was angry, but it also felt fitting.
I was comfortable being single for the last two years, but now I am officially sick of it.
Remember back in early September when I said I was getting back on the horse? Well it took two months for that horse to show up for a date, and it’s been impossible to get a second, even though he insists he wants to get together. I sent a series of questions, trying to figure out what might be in the way, but it’s always the same answer: work. While I constantly have work to do, I also decide to get up from it occasionally. I am at a loss… and exhausted from preparing for dates that don’t happen.
And I’m freaking lonely. I am someone with a lot to give and even more to feel. It’s all wasted pining for some ambiguous future relationship.
I am not interested in the 50-year olds and 22-year olds that hound me on OkCupid. Beyond that, I’m super picky. It’s not as though my “inbox” is empty; there are plenty of options that don’t interest me.
I have my first real wrinkle. Unlike Henry Rollins who had smile lines, I have a 2.5″ worry line over my right eye. It’s a doozy. My hands look ancient, but fortunately my face generally passes for younger.
Telescoping time applies to age as well, but conversely. The years 1996-1998 seem to have lasted so much longer than 2008-2010, or even 2005-2010.
I don’t know what else to say now. I guess I’m moody. I feel as though the folks on the subway are staring at my worry lines and the expression that produces them…