ABSOLUT bananas

this week I'm a model of industriousness, even right now as I attempt to catch up on my correspondance --mostly with about.com--; spellcheck the last batch of the latest riveting issue in the Car Manual Saga, 207,000 pages of pure raw excitement; telepathically contact 1) my french boss, who's probably wondering what could possibly make me confuse 'i'll check in on tuesday' with 'I'll call on thursday. maybe." 2) my bank, so they'll crunch debit & credit to come up with rent money sufficient for the last month of my residence herein; puzzle out what to wear to work tonight, since after three days of ongoing event I have wrung out every possible use out of my very limited wardrobe, especially on the shoe area; conciliate the fact that my online radio station is playing damian rice AGAIN and thus now I have successfully managed to choke up at 10 am;

and I make my attempts from my bed because I'm utterly exhausted. intensity strikes down again with more relatives passing away, impending doom on the lovefront, with a lot of things that need to be done/said/dealt with on both of our parts, inminent homelessness and destituteness, plus I've newly rediscovered an old knack of mine, the amazing nausea in the morning... all that on top of having to run all week on heels and interpreting vodka tastings (which is excellent fun I promise, no complaints there except for yesterday night, when I had to apologize in the name of my country and humanity in general when some stupid pimply junior came to one of the most renowned cocktailers in the world, and who probably is worth more than him and his father combined, and ordered a vodka tonic. fortunately the mixologeer is so cool he politely told him to sit down and be quiet instead of cursing him in swedish, smashing a martini glass on the bar, and cutting Pimples a little, like he was entitled to).

oh and I just found out my cellphone is dead, cause in all this tedium I haven't found the time to go and pay the bill. yay.

also, I think I live in the twilight zone. ufos might still get me...

remember when I didn't have time to do anything, not even fart sideways?

on the good news, the stupid course is OVER.

top 3 of run for your life
1. run -- pink floyd
2. I wanna be sedated -- ramones
3. fight for your right -- beastie boys

please some dj save my life

isn't it annoying that when I manage to land a really cool job, I can't talk about it? for the whole day I've been looking for some dj-enlightened person for technical coaching, something I didn't think would be too hard considering how many musician buddies I have --well tough luck so far. and it pisses me off that bel hasn't answered my email for help on this matter. it also pisses me off that I like musicians so damned much.

oops, freudian slip. I'm just not in a good mood, what a surprise!

as usual, my huge upcoming pay --oh you've got so much WORK, that's so GOOD for you-- had to be broken up into insignificant amounts I could do practically nothing with, except trying to patch holes. I just got a very stern call from the school, reminding me that I owe my two last payments and that the course ends on friday--a true joy that doesn't do much good to me now since I don't have the money.

and speaking of why I do not, yesterday I had to lay coins all the way to polanco --that is, take a taxi to the publisher's-- only to learn that according to the flippin memo that someone should have been sent to me but didn't, as of March 2006 --and yesterday being still flippin february of course-- the days for payment are to change from tuesdays to fridays, so no check. did that make sense to you?

that all doesn't only mean I didn't get the check I was counting on to make peace with my traitor albion school; it doesn't only mean that I won't have it on time for tomorrow, the last day of payment; at the moment it also meant I had to throw money again from a cab window on my way to school, because I had to be there by six for observation.

I had forty five minutes of pleasurable observation with a kind teacher of indefinable accents, who made great emphasis on sePArable and insePArable phrasals, and invited the students to make crafts while he roamed about. then lizzie and I could not take it anymore and we threw ourselves out of the window.

and thus I lost all my afternoon, roughly three and a half hours I could have spent working on this cool new job that of COURSE is NOT urgent, because we understand you have other things to do, but it's due for release on MARCH! 1st !, so yeah, no hurry at all, but now that you have them, can you have them ready for tomorrow, eh?

but now I'll have to leave it because I have to go to my superstupid class. that I can't pay for.

top 3 of I'm so annoyed
1. sam hall -- johnny cash
2. break stuff -- limp bizkit
3. caught out there -- kellis

a great escape

there was just a very loud noise upstairs, and I think marianne yelled that a flock of geese has just flown through her window, or something like that.

it's just one of those really interesting things that I fancy I hear every day, only to find out that the reality is much less creative. but for a few seconds, frequently the most wonderful, weird, bizarre, awful (gorge-mine-eyes-out awful) images float for a few seconds in my mind, resulting from the combination of my rhyming ear and the seven remaining marbles I have left rolling upstairs. not to mention the two giant stoned moths, eleanor and carlyle.

hey, that almost reads like I'm in a good mood, and I'm not. or at least I wasn't until I pictured my roommate and her dog being beaten to tatters by a passing flock of migrating birds. from there to thinking that they have the avian flu, it's only a short hop down the daydream road.

well -- good thing, today's exam was postponed, so I only had to take one. goodie. I have to be back there tomorrow for observation, and watch me dance in joy.

gah. it's 1 am. I still have 8 pages, only eight I know, but still eight pages to go in my ever-expanding super huge file, but my eyes are crossing. does anyone think someone's ass will fall down if I finish those asshole pages tomorrow? I DIDN'T THINK SO EITHER. thank you, good night I say.

top 3 of sleepey timey

1. cucurrucucu paloma -- versión caetano veloso para hable con ella
2. somewhere over the rainbow -- versión de israel kamakawiwo ole OLE cooka bonga
3. dance me till the end of love -- leonard cohen

in the back burner

saturday afternoon. I was feeling pretty ok with myself, because I got up early(ish), washed most of my dirty laundry and the dishes, worked a lot, had a healthy saturday lunch with marianne, then we went shopping for groceries. fantastic, isn't it? that was until we drove by the WTC and the anglo, and I remembered that my stupid exam had been rescheduled for today... at ten o'the morning. and I completely forgot.

ahwell, that satisfied feeling just couldn't last for long. I was bound to fuck up at some point, right? well, at least I got everything I needed from the supermarket.

we're going to the movies tonight to watch derailed, if only because it has two super hotties in it (clive owen and vincent cassel) and it's the only movie we both agree we want to see and that is showing tonight. also tonight at 8, the ficco shows 1973 at the world trade center; a documentary by director antonino isordia, born in that very year, and through three characters in this movie he gives us his insights of the dangers of his generation so go see it.

that's the end of the commercial for bad kitty productions.

before the movies we're swinging by my new dealer's place, because I'm outta me lucky charms. I'm sure this time it'll last more, since I'm not going to be getting everyone high for a change. I'm also starting my seeds soon, probably tonight, so I'll probably be full of plantlets by this time next week.

being a stable, mature person is so terribly boring, you know. read above for elaboration. I really have nothing else to offer, except that I wish something interesting --whatever-- would happen.

top 3 of
1. where is my mind -- the pixies
2. all these things that I've done -- the killers
3. only the good die young -- billy joel

I was ruddely woken up this morning by the whole anglo mexican foundation, or so it seemed like. to be honest, I'm exaggerating; it was only tessa, my instructor, followed by a series of rings and text messages from my homies in the course. it seems the class we had scheduled for this evening was postponed. YES.
lately, this course hasn't been a total pain in the ass, except for waking me up at unholy times. 8 is very early for someone who doesn't have to rise to collect the eggs every morning.
alain, my own personal chéri, sent me the sweetest message: "in case you don't know, class today has been cancelled. and also in case you don't know, I love you with all my heart." awwwwwwwww. he'd be perfect for a lover, except that he's 19 and he still stutters when he sees me in a skirt. also, he still finds jokes about farts too damned funny. so we keep it platonic.

the rest of my choices are blocked out, at least for now.
lame.

top 3 of blah friday night

1. cry little sister (thou shalt not dieeeee) -- sisters of mercy
2. here comes your man -- the pixies (where)
3. dancin' in the streets-- mick jagger & david bowie

you do it to yourself

dude? see, now I just typed a bunch of bollocks and then erased it. it was booooooring. more boring than the following can possibly be, believe me.

my class went great, we got all of the props out in motion and no one was crushed to death behind the scenes. we got a solid 80% and got praised for the material. whatevah.

I wore the most wonderful dress today, red and white, and the most wonderful shoes as well; in my humble opinion I looked lovely, but I got mixed results, to be honest. it might have something to do with the fact that I work with a 90% gay population (but for some reason now I've become obsessed with getting used to the notion that it's because I'm not young anymore. which is absolute BOLLOCKS, right people? right?).
I got praised on the attire, which I suppose is as high as I can aspire to under such circumstances. I didn't appreciate it much when I had to trot all over the neighborhood chasing payments from two of my notorious archi-nemesis' closest relatives. talk about irony! but I digress; which is to say, I had to gallop for blocks and blocks in my smartass shoes whose straps wouldn't stay tied.

I lost my housekeys last saturday, did I mention that? put that on the 'way to go' points for eleanor. yep. I lost them and even though I might have a faint notion of where they might've ended up (maybe), there's no way I can hold a hope of ever getting them back. and the point of this piece of news is --that has consequences. today after my class --which was a yawning success-- I got home and of course, marianne was out picking up f at the airport. I rang on the boys' place and got no answer either.

so there I was with my pretty dress and smart shoes and my dumb flowers from class in hand, and I was readying myself to sit on the curb until someone came home, short dress or not, because I was wiped out. but right then a cab came with carter (neighbor scotsman #1) inside it. so I barged in their house with him, went up to the roof, and after a brief interlude with the secluded valentian, I peeled off the shoes, threw them over the fence that divides our rooftops --the very fence we keep swearing to take down every time we have to do this, and then we forget--, handed the carnations over to carter and told him that should anything happen, he was to call the ambulance first and marianne second, in that order, and then hoisted myself up on the fence and tiptoed on the wall around the rooftop and the fence. my purse was a pain because I couldn't sling it over as well, it had my cellphone and a flowervase in it --stop asking why. the strap got caught in the wirefence while I was still clinging there on the side of our houses like spider woman. thug, thug, snag snag, it came free, I jumped on the gas tank, hopped to the roof, and made a graceful V. I was safe. carter threw the carnations on my head and thus was my olympic fantasy complete.

and that was yay for what a great day for wearing a dress.

F, the third wheel within this perfect engine, came back from London tonight. I really can't express how glad I am that he's home; I wouldn't say we're really 'intimate', except on the fact that we're used to finding each other in our underwear and talking to ourselves; it's not like we really delve into each other's feelings or share every single detail of our lives; it's just nice to have his very own calm balancing share of khef back in the equation, and he's definitely a needed presence in this house populated by raging females --and a spawn of satan, sandokan.

so the class deal is over for now, but I'm still hung up on about 60 pages of work. the thing is that it keeps getting bigger as I work on it. which should be a good thing and isn't, on so many levels.

and now I'm going to bed, because I'm fading. I'm sure the world won't collapse if we let the transaxles rest for another day. I'm having breakfast with The Boy early tomorrow and I'll be damned if I won't get some sleep.

top 3 of I don't care much about nothin
1. wonder woman theme
2. all I can say -- blind melon
3. dancin in the streets -- martha and the vandellas

jeez, what a day. I mean, seriously, it's not like I only see the bad things, but whoa hell, whoa hurl.

I saw a man getting hit by a car this afternoon. they reanimated him in the end, but for a good half an hour he lay motionless in the middle of the street right in front of the shop. there was the obvious crowd standing and staring and I felt morbid for it, but I stood outside too and watched until I was sure he was alive. I dunno, it just didn't feel right to go back inside and sit on the computer, as if a man wasn't possibly giving up the ghost only ten yards from the door.

now on the bright side, we finished planning our class. it's not half-shabby, but I still have to write the lesson plan, aka the 10,000 word story of my life, make the flashcards, go buy the magician's hat, the trained rabbit, the tutus for roch and I, the flowers, and the fishies to throw to our compliant clapping seals; and I still have about 80 pages of work to do. for a job that is due tomorrow.

so this is not my good night, this is my coffee break. BLAH.
oh man, how more boring can my life get to be?

top 3 of I don't even HAVE COFFEE
1. beetlejuice theme -- danny elfman
2. dazed and confused -- led zeppelin -- it feels like I use this one a lot
3. here comes the sun -- peter tosh -- nice and clear, it's been

me wanna go home

pheeew. I see my long days are back.

it was so pleasant going back to the shop today, and I wasn't in the least bothered that the Boss wouldn't let me out of his sight, not even to go to the loo or have a cup of tea; I spent the morning trotting between the two stores, getting all the papers ready for accounting, getting praised for the cleanliness of my record-keeping, and stupidly revolving upon my own axis. it's nice, isn't it, when folks notice that you've been gone and they're happy when you come back.

and that, my friends, was my sunny side of this day.

to not sound like a martyr for a change, I'll admit that the wellbeing held --sorta-- for a couple of hours after work, but they were spent planning class with rochester. we both solemnly agree --and never cease to repeat, to everyone's amazement-- that it's one of the lamest ways one can spend the time of day. specially with the ficco (festival internacional de cine contemporáneo) starting this week. I would encourage people more warmly to visit the website, but it's being retarded as is customary in mexican pages. hmph.

(si alguien conoce un link válido por favor móchense).

anyway, after some bitching and a fair amount of working, we grudgingly filed for class. as usual, the watch stopped ticking as soon as I crossed the door. the trap was closed; here I am for three hours. I'm not very sure what happened in all that time; I wrote the lyrics of a few of the longest songs I know by heart, we had a very informative reading about the history of chocolate; terms such as "amicable", "dire", "sown", etc had to be extensively defined, and sometimes acted out; then we sat back and contemplated profoundly upon our contemplation.

our class is scheduled for wednesday, and it's supposed to be the second to last, which is very much yay. the bad news is that the wicked instructor scheduled the exam I missed last monday --on account on being secluded in a gravity zero capsule under the risk of having my head cave in-- for right after the blessed class. which probably means that everything that didn't cave in last monday, will rightly leak out the day after tomorrow.

I know, I could have spared the visual too.

spring is in the air. my darling kitty is no exception and is now a slave to her hormones. yesterday night she spent nearly an hour cooing and singing to her sweetheart in the house next door, but he never came out. monkey is squeamish, he'd never set a paw outdoors until he moved to his current home, and consequently he is a bit wild; he is ok with her stealing his food, but not with the snuggling. not yet.

why haven't I had her fixed? interesting question. the answer is $$$. I'm taking her tomorrow to the vet so they give her The Pill --bitter, bitter irony. I'll just have to hope I'm not too late. I'm really not looking forward to taking care of a pregnant kitty who's still scared to death of mila, the Terrible Hound of Aguaskerville.

speaking of, marianne has started her own blog and she'll need peer pressure to keep up with it. there's the link then.

thus another weekday goes by... where has february gone?

top 3 of oh god it's so late
1. uptown girl -- billy joel
2.whoever you are -- geggy tah -- sp. dedicated to the guy who used me as a human shield to shove people left and right and get us off the damn bus
3. sultans of swing -- the dire straits

busco amante/lover wanted

tiene que ser muy alto, muy guapo, muy poco complicado, descarado y pícaro.
y a ver si se apuran, porque al principio lo decía de broma, pero empiezo a convencerme que vale más la pena quedarme en casa a soñar despierta que ir a realizar acrobacias con el varón estándar.

estoy inflada como un pavo, pues me hoy estaba mi trabajo de vuelta del corrector, y estoy tan libre de errores como de pulgas. es decir, casi.

por otro lado, me doy cuenta que odio polanco. ¿por qué a todos les gusta tanto? siempre hay tráfico, no hay cortesía alguna con el peatón; eso sí, si algún día quiero morir con estilo, puedo venir y elegir el color del mercedes que quiero que me pase por encima.

top 3 -- just before drugstore run
1. i wanna be sedated -- the ramones
2. la vie en rose -- edith piaff. I miss the teahouse. I'll be back on monday, I hope.
3. do you realize? -- the flaming lips

parece que hoy no pienso dormir

otra vez, como alicia en el país de las putas maravillas.

e insisto: no me quejo porque tenga una disposición agria, sino todo lo contrario. a saber: que nadie me joda por estar siempre en las nubes, si aquí nada tiene sentido tampoco.

si mi vida fuera lógica, podría organizar todo bien. los pagos, los planes, las inversiones.

y, sin embargo.

quería organizar mis plantas; mis semillas me miran con reproche, y no puedo menos que apenarme porque no tengo mucha disculpa; excepto que quiero comprar más que unas pocas pastillas de turba, y he estado esperando como idiota a que llegue mi pago.

no he podido operar a los gatos, tampoco. sé que es una vergüenza que no me haya ocupado de mi lily, pero diablos, ¿qué parte de todo el mundo me paga DEMASIADO TARDE para que me sea de algún provecho no ha quedado suficientemente CLARO? el gran problema es que ahora sando también se está convirtiendo en un problema.

y ay, fatua de mí, todavía contemplaba la noción de que, si me administraba bien, podría comprar cortinas para mi cuarto --porque a fuer de ser sincera, ya estoy un poco harta de dar el ah del barco todos los días a mi flamante vecino valenciano; unos jeans que no estuvieran rotos por el culo --me los rasgué el otro día en el trabajo; ese maldito fax me odia y me mordió, lo juro. es como una máquina planchadora de la que alguna vez escuché hablar.

entre las nieblas de esta larga noche, ya me di cuenta que ya se acabó el breve placer; aunque llegue mañana el dinero en fila de conga por la puerta, ya debo demasiado para que me resulte de algún alivio.

y este oído que no se destapa.


otra cosa a probar: he decidido que mi destino en la vida es leer. leo muy bien, muy rápido, y muy bien leído. así que ¿me quieren? cómprenme un libro.


y ahora...
1. just -- radiohead. it's not valentine's anymore. it's cause of celebration.
2. jessica -- allman brothers band. only because it's one of my favorite tunes of all times.
3. beetlejuice theme -- danny elfman. I bet you didn't know that at the very beginning there's a very distorted sampling of "daylight come and me wanna go ho-"
4. just too good to be true -- frankie valli. gay, I know.
5. white rabbit - jefferson airplane. just 'cause I'm already there. feed your head, man.

a-ha. some more self-serving BS. hey, if a girl can't rant in her own blog, where can she?

(crickets)

good news is: I finished the chapter! yay!
now if only I get some help for the immediate next one, I might just be fine.

I have a huge job enqueueUEd since like a week ago, but I've obviously been too busy with all my breeding a whole new metropolis deep in my right ear and whatnot, so now I'm all into self-pity and I think I should be much congratulated that I have finished this job... only a few days after I said I would.

rochester called earlier today --I think, although that's another thing that seems dreamlike just now. in any way, I told him man, i'm just not up to it. not today. maybe tomorrow; maybe on thursday. he wasn't heartbroken I might add. neither of us is specially interested in killing any more brain cells with anything that isn't strictly necessary, say alcohol, drugs, or videogames. of course, preparing our class for practice does not quite make it into this priority list. and, he's got tickets for U2 tomorrow night; I would say I'm the one who's holding the shitty end, since my middle ear is infected, today it's two years since the day that blahBLAH, and I'm still much in the mood for self-pity.

the bad news is: I just found a new pain; last saturday --or was it friday perhaps; does time fly or what? is it tuesday already? where was I? ah yes -- last saturday, and even though I was probably the soberest person of the evening, I managed to 1) smash one of our pretty glasses and 2) quite obviously splintered my left middle finger something fierce.

this I've suspected since sunday, but I just registered just now.
hey, mila has been munching whole shards of glass all week, so I should be all right.

and now let's see if this baby works.



top 5 of JUST NOW:

1. where is my mind -- the pixies -- I was going for another #1 altogether, but this one started playing just now. it was no contest. we'll leave dresden dolls for another day.
2. mr brightside -- the killers -- these guys somehow manage to sound upbeat when singing about misery. perfect.
3. ain't no sunshine -- al green -- because I'm also a sad bastard.
4. money for nothing -- the dire straits -- did you know they were scottish? didja?
5. what a wonderful world -- the ramones -- I'm wearing the t-shirt today, so it's only just fair.

less defined as the days go by

oh boy. well here, I'll try again.

stressful holidays indeed.

I've been having so much work, which is a good thing. I'm positive I'll actually even believe that when I actually get paid. see, I don't want to whine, but really... all the money I'm getting any time soon, I already owe. with a vengeance.

and on top of that, all the holiday craze in the city, that just makes everything twice as dreadful, really. headbutting my way into the metrobus every day, dealing with a thousand people at work who'd like their sun-shaped tea infusors wrapped in blue paper, not yellow. my dad never fails to repproach that I never visit enough.
now I haven't seen them since Christmas, but man, really, I've got so much work and eh, I'm stressed.

I get stressed because he really is very sick and could go at any moment, and my 'I have work' excuses sound thin and fake even to my own ears. why yes, I try to drop by once every one or two weeks, but lately it has been mostly a hit-and-run operation. after all, it does take me a couple of hours to get there and back.

bah. you hear me? BAH!

it didn't help either that we had a rather, um, intense time at home too. the so termed house of Dames & Dragons has had a dire time lately, and that includes both the official and the honorary members, and both of the human and animal species. indeed, december saw the decease of an old-time canine friend, and my poor Lily hung suspended from one of her rear paws for a prolonged period of time, getting stuck on the spiral staircase that goes to the roof when trying to get away from the huge bully tomcat from across the street. my god, I used to be polite to that cat but I just flip him off every time I see him now.

I don't even want to get started with the human population pathos. let us just say, it's been intense.
(and on top of it all, of course, work-work-work. and lots of Bright Eyes and new Fiona.)

I don't know about the angelical roommate (that'd be fionn, our resident and ephemeral scotsman), but I think all of us, and marianne (roommie 1), and even I --who had no concrete reason to be freaking out, except maybe for a certain unnamed annoyance related to some other beings of strength-- hit rock-bottom at the christmas night party, taking place on the neighboring house, home of the other two thirds of the Scottish population around here. that is to say, mr. and mr. black horse, scottish, their english housemate, Elliot, and their spanish roommate paco.

all in all, I was in a pretty broody mood all the evening, because almost everything about the visit earlier to my parents irked me; it bothered me that my parents thought that Tim was my boyfriend again, my dad falling asleep on his coffee as usual; and then the whole gift exchange, and toast, and stuff, I say, I love my grandma and I will always love to see her, but I always feel like such a phony with my parents at these occassions. it never feels true. I love them, and I'd like to connect with them, but it just never feels so.
and then my father put us on the street to get a cab from the suburbs on Christmas Eve, because seemingly he'd rather put us on the street than letting us use the car for one night. The End.
at the end my mamma saved the ball by almost secretly picking us up and giving us a ride, so I didn't have to spend my grandma's christmas money on the 90 minute cabride.

we all verily agreed there was way too much alcohol involved at this social event, and there was a fair share of tickling and misdemenaurs, where are yous and even one potentially fatal case of bronchitis; I sat and watched on the big sofa-bed with Paco and my brother, we drank and drank, we smoked and smoked, we hijacked the music, until the Luxury Accesory (i.e., mr blackhorse #3 and another attaché) came, stood there looking gorgeous, and cried, "look, it's not like I don't love Joy Division, but you're making everyone want to kill themselves!"

then we surrendered to Beck, which was of course still very pleasant. I suppose by then we were too decadently intoxicated to care. at least I was. paco will testify that I was like the naughty sister in the story, tossing snakes and toads out of my mouth about a series of things in life that ultimately suck, but god knows I was a funny mofo all the same.

I came home early, only to freak out silently and by myself almost until sunrise. I hear that was a night for the sleepless, and there were many late nighters like myself. and even more later. some of them wearing skirts.

new year's was considerably better, except that I realize this is the first new year's I spend without my brother in our entire lives. I missed him. marianne, displaying a domesticity unheard of in her before, cooked a very large turkey, cortesy of her cellphone company, and we had it in company of good friends and with a lot of good wine. excellent company, yes. almost everyone went off partying afterwards, but I decided to skip it and I just stayed up talking with our last guest, our english neighbor, who got there pretty late from visiting his family and we actually stayed up until dawn.

all in all, I felt better. in between christmas and new year's everything seemed to fit together better and everything felt more at ease.

oh sheesh, I really didn't want to rant.

to summarize. lots of work. injured cats (both now, sandokan tried to cut his veins yesterday night). one friend who must become a friend. freaked out housepeople, who say they're feeling all kinds of better. which is good because even if they weren't strictly *my* problems, they affect me all the same.

lots of irkiness, I'm really not well in my head and in my heart. most of the times I'm okay, but only yesterday someone at the teahouse spoke roughly to me and I burst into tears. bel called the house on the 31st, actually looking for miranda, but 'it's so good to say HI to you.' we managed a record breaking time of 65 seconds of conversation before we started fighting, after which I collapsed on my couch like a cinderella and cried my little heart away, once again. I heard m talking to him and making him apologize, and I just said yeah, yeah, and we got off the phone. he didn't really want to apologize. and maybe he didn't need to; I was probably being a hysterical thing again.

and here's the risible thing: he said he meant to come for new year's, and I believed him. I even afforded to feel disappointed that he didn't show up.

oh man, I suck just as much as ever. send xanax.

I think that on the whole, I'm holding steady, but man, sometimes it's hard.

running around robbin' banks all whacked on the scoobie snacks

i've just discovered that the course I'm taking will basically revolve around three or four main basic points:

1. speak very slowly. flap your arms around a lot and mime like the crazy referee in a cartoon soccer game. This will help you get your point across in case they don't get it with simple oral enunciation. oh, and it'll help too for practice for when you have 'real' basic students.

2. hey, they're going to be basic students, they're not gonna notice if you make a few (hundred!!!) mistakes. gagg.

3. who cares how good your english is? those visuals are *great*. she have two sisters, oh NO duh she have, i got it bad again lol lol lol

and yes, I'm a bitch because, 'everyone is trying their best'.

and me, myself and I sitting in the midst of it, trying not to blow too much
steam out of my ears, fantasizing about eric stoltz robbing banks and practising my backwards writing. last monday I made a whole page of a, b, c, d, e, and f. I believe that by february, after doing this for nine endless, boring, frustrating hours a week and when this cursed gay cheesy course ends, I'll be fluent and writing eulogies in reverse, like linda blair.

they think I have an attitude problem.

2 + 2 = 5

and speaking of teaching, sometimes I think I wouldn't do badly with little kids.

I often help pau --the little girl at the teashop I work at-- with her second grade homework. she's made me look up a couple of things in the dictionary, too. today I was trying to explain her the difference between even and odd numbers.

after ten we ran out of fingers, so I started handing her matches to keep count. then we were making squares and rectangles and stars and pyramids with matches, and she was delighted.

then again, I think then, I probably only find it so cute because she's going to grow up to be a nerd just like me. if I taught your usual little kid, I'd probably be smashing them against a blackboard.

/midnight musings.

i've been dazed and confused baby

I'm translating a huge medical document and a huge services book at the same time.

and after I don't know how many days of how many segments of 50 minutes of solid working, before my timer goes Ring and just, just before my encephalic mass squirms into my right shoulder, I sometimes write things like:

"When bone tissue grows into the implant, it helps firmly tax the employee within the thighbone."

covered by a visible pile of dust,
glued to the PC by spiderwebs,
typing fingers aflame,
oh my i'm going insane
oh lordie, me thinks I'm a case.
somehow it seems like I've been typing forever
and yet there's more AND MORE for me to lever
the irony is,
they said translation was paid work
well HA!, I still don't have a wok.
the lesson of all this would be:
don't ever be a freelancer
payment in ninety days can give you an ulcer

chumbawamba

I got a new book! yay! YAY!

I've got a lot of work! yay! YAY!

my computer fried. BOOOOOO!

I don't have time to surf. BOOOO!