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Jun. 8th, 2007

cats with lasers returns!

well, it's done. i've sold my mouldy soul... to blogspot. i can't guarantee that i won't sneak in the occasional livejournal entry, but I also can't promise to post in both places because i have a hard enough time writing personal emails.

so here it is: http://artofawkward.blogspot.com/

on to banal rambling in other places...

Jun. 6th, 2007

those damn allergies

in no uncertain order:

homofication of summer wedding #1 was a success! my suit & suspenders were well received (and now in dire need of dry cleaning because of the sweat factor), we met a handful of friendly gays, and we managed to squeeze in a couple of runs along the delaware river. one of the gaywods we met owns 1369 Coffee in Boston, so if you're ever in the area, give the man some business. I also met a woman that's been housesitting for the last several years so she can save money to buy her own house in Vermont. No house = sleeping in the car and showering at friends' places. I don't know if it was her demeanor or the idea of sleeping in a car in the green nothingness of vermont that sounded more appealing, but it made me want to run home and give away all of my stuff.... which may have to happen anyway if we ever move to brooklyn.

maybe we can become professional housesitters in brooklyn. might be kind of hard with 2 cats.

advice to anyone planning a rehearsal dinner: don't make it Indian food unless it's a december wedding. bloating and food sweats on the day of the wedding are not my idea of a good time.

the brunch for coffeeshopgirl's cambodia-bound sister went relatively well with the exception of the first 5 minutes. i think my reserves must have been weak from too much sushi or something because i can usually handle the staring, but the first set of guests to arrive were overwhelmingly hostile. eventually i bounced back...lox and creamcheese combined with a visit from my favorite friend crush did the trick. all i needed was some perspective.

i'm excited to spend this weekend as far away from the airport as possible.

this documentary might make you want to buy a hybrid or become a lifetime pedestrian, if for no other reason than to spite the car conglomerates.

May. 23rd, 2007

ridikulus!

in the realm of superficial news, i just spent the last 45 minutes learning how to tie a full windsor knot so i can look dashing and gay at this summer's weddings. luckily, video jug has a great lesson narrated by a british dude. as previously mentioned, everything is better when polished by a foreign accent (with the exception of anything remotely along the vein of selma hayek's. she should be required by law to hire a surrogate to speak for her). as it turns out, i'm incapable of tying a tie with my dominant hand. the ambidextrousness runs deep.

also acquired: suspenders. although i'm waiting on a second opinion from coffeeshopgirl. may need to switch colors, or it may be too much. we'll see.

more soon...

May. 20th, 2007

Steve Holt!

today, i feel like a grouch, which is dumb because it's absolutely beautiful outside, i'm sitting at the coffeeshop where the girl is working and i've got a harry potter book next to me. I didn't know I was a grouch until coffeeshopgirl asked me how the ride on my moto went, and I shook my head instead of getting excited about it. Then I proceeded to give a terse reply. Now I feel like an ogre, which has been happening too often. I did go for a ride this morning and it was uneventful, but the truth of the matter is I'm scared of the bike more than ever because of the Tipping Incident. Knowing the shriveled state of my brain made it hard to get excited about the question.

in fact, i'm having a hard time getting excited about a lot of things.

in happier news, I went on a surprise date friday night...a "secret errand" that turned into a movie date to see Hot Fuzz. If you haven't seen it, check it out. The initial pace of the movie was too slow for my taste, but the ridiculous action I had hoped for was soon handed to me on a bullet riddled silver plate. I love movies that make fun of other movies and you can't really beat the one liners spoken with a british accent. A Brit could read the instructions on the back of a Soft Scrub bottle and I'd laugh.

summer wedding #1 is next weekend and Harry Potter is just around the corner. I decided that in light of the coming HP and my lack of motivation to go to the library, I'm going to re-read the last 2 books. I considered starting at the beginning, but that would be death in terms of massage studying. When the entire series is out and I've become independently wealthy, I'll start at the beginning.

(my grouchdom is beginning to wane)

and now for some friend stalking...

May. 18th, 2007

put your right foot in

there's a sticker on my water bottle from a banana that i ate a few days ago and it says "place sticker on forehead and smile." clearly i didn't follow the directions but i wanted to be able to SEE the sticker, and i can't exactly carry a mirror around to stare at my forehead all day. i want to be friends with the person(s) that designed this sticker campaign.

i want to procrastinate but i don't have much to say at the moment. will return when i can think of something pointless to share...

May. 9th, 2007

strange encounters

did you know that according to the national cab drivers association, frequent braking is highly correlated with slower speeds and therefore, safer passengers? to help encourage safe driving, cab companies are beginning to outfit their newer machines with brake counters so that cab drivers can be compensated an extra 5 cents for every depression of the brake. the next time you get in a cab, check it out -- they're located just below the steering column.

May. 6th, 2007

z is for zonked

just when you think sleeping couldn't get any harder...

i can't remember what i dreamt last night because i'm not sure i ever fell asleep long enough to dream. first there was the anxiety. then, as exhaustion was about to sedate my brain, a man in the building next door started yelling "Yeah! wahoo! Yeeeaaahhhh!" repeatedly and in the most annoying drunk sports-going voice you've ever heard. it gave me flashbacks to the one (and only) redskins game i have ever attended. at some point mr. video gamer finally stopped. then the musical doors started downstairs. i think the neighbors pay their kids to walk in and out of the front door at odd hours of the morning. Normally it wouldn't have kept me awake, but i expected each slamming of the door to end with my brother checking for the key under the mat (he's in town for 2 days to check out some real estate). around 3am, he finally made it in from Blacksburg, and i was asleep in a matter of floor creaks.

at 5:30 the mattress scratching began. i made a pact with myself that i was NOT going to get out of bed to feed the hairballs, so i snuggled with the squirt bottle and ambushed Petey after every attack. he finally got the idea and joined me on the bed... temporarily.

let's not forget the snoring coming from the living room at 7am, which was successfully snuffed out by closing the door. sadly, my victory was shortlived because minutes later Petey started crying like his little hairy world was ending on the other side of the door.

as you can guess, i'm in the best of moods.

at least there's good coffee sitting by the laptop to keep me company while i give my cranky rendition of the last 12 hours.

May. 4th, 2007

for the love of chocolate (peanut butter)

it's unfortunate that i'm a cryer because my eyelids swell to monstrous proportions after every episode. between that and the overwhelming desire to crawl back into bed, i'm feeling subhuman today... but slightly less dejected.

it can't be a good sign when 2 days a week in a job is 2 days too many. it makes me wonder if i'm really just that lazy or the job is just that incompatible.

what i'm also wondering is how the chocolate peanut butter petit four would taste from this place (check out the descriptions)

and while i'm at it, i'm including a link to my flickr account because it's silly to keep these things to myself.

May. 3rd, 2007

bring me a squib

there are times when i wish i suffered from hypergraphia. then again, it could be an indication of schizophrenia, epilepsy, or a frontotemporal lobe disorder (among other things), none of which sounds like a good time, especially considering what i saw in "Tarnation". It's a documentary by a gay filmmaker whose mother was subjected to electroshock treatment in the late 60s and 70s... all because a neighbor said she was faking paralysis after falling off the roof of her house. It's worth checking out, but i warn you, it won't make you any part of you cheerful. However, you will inevitably celebrate the fact that whatever brand of crazy you have is not as severe as the neuroses running rampant throughout the filmmaker's family.

did i mention the filmmaker and his partner are ridiculously attractive?

helped a friend move yesterday. it was going smoothly until the sound of metal against metal broke our rhythm. the original truck reservation was for a 10-footer. in true rental company fashion, the reservation didn't exist so a new contract was signed for a 12 foot truck. sadly, it wouldn't go in the driveway of our destination (too steep -- the tailgate was eating the pavement). the next best solution devolved into a hit and run. which is to say, once the rental truck finished side swiping the parked mini-van, we all ran around freaking out about what to do. it's hard to say how the situation will be resolved without the severe draining of personal bank accounts, but the woman was nice enough so I guess it could have been worse.

she could have rushed the truck and started beating at it like a deranged gorilla.

in other news, i'm feeling kind of bipolar. one minute i'm listening to my german phrase of the day (soon I'll be able to ask if i'm getting on the right bus!) and the next minute i'm overanalyzing coffeeshop girl's tone of voice and being sensitive in a way that is very unbecoming to my generally sarcastic self-image. double the hormones is obviously not my preferred biological cocktail. i'm sure the inhumanity will soon pass. in the meantime I'll try to limit the masturbatory posts to a minimum.

going to post a picture of a kick-ass motorcycle that i saw in the octane parking lot earlier. can't do it at the moment because there's no camera cord. haven't been on my moto since the tipping incident, but i'm hoping to change that sometime this weekend. i wish there was a podcast that could teach me more about my motorcycle...

coffeeshop girl wants to go on a date this weekend. i'm thinking maybe a hot fuzz movie extravaganza. or possibly grindhouse, but i think hot fuzz is more suitable to neutralizing my surly mood as of late.

i suppose i've procrastinated long enough. should move on to writing notecards. would anyone like to discuss the lateral flexors of the neck?

May. 1st, 2007

Ping Pong without a Paddle

I had a scathing entry pertaining to cats clawing the mattress that I mentally prepared at 5:04 this morning, but the wind has blown out of my sails in the hours since my rude awakening. Somehow it doesn’t seem to matter much in light of other people’s problems right now. Maybe when I’m in the mood I’ll recreate it for you, but it’s a predictable story so you’re not missing much. Let’s just say I’d like to duct tape their little paws together from 11pm to 7am.

We’re going to see Arcade Fire tonight. Hopefully it will be a better show than the Ratatat disaster. You can bet we’ll be previewing the opener before showing up on time.

Have been feeling somewhat unstable for the last few days. My brain feels like it’s on the hamster wheel of blah-dom. Again, the significance of my anxiety and general malaise seems trite in comparison to losing family members or having the idea of losing family members loom larger than usual, but I’m going to whine about it anyway because that’s what livejournal is for. It’s hard to say when it starte... sometime over the weekend... I think it’s been feeding off of the fear of being overbearing, needy, and socially inept (which coffeeshop girl consistently assures me I am not, but you know how all assurance flies out the window when you’re sitting in a room full of people and you get bored at the sound of your own voice). The situation was further exacerbated by going to the pool on a college campus, which was a nice change of pace from walking around the neighborhood, but is NOT a good idea when my brain is already in a fragile state. Simply put, I hate to be watched. Where else can one feel more like they’re in a fish bowl than at the pool? You’re literally IN the fish bowl and you’re as good as naked. Talk about an anxiety nightmare. I wish I was one of those people that didn’t give a shit about how others perceive your ability. Instead, I take my crippled ego and retreat into silence. I can only imagine how great it must have made coffeeshop girl feel. I couldn’t even muster the voice to say she was doing everything right and couldn’t be more perfect. I tried once or twice, but my throat kept closing up, and I was having a hard enough time trying to swim and not cry.

And now I’m done giving this whole thing so much attention.

Goals for the rest of the week:
1. get more sleep
2. find a way to deflect pulse racing, tear-inducing anger caused by cats
3. practice not caring about what other people think
4. talk coffeeshop girl into getting sushi for dinner
5. forget about everything I just wrote (except the sushi) and move on

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