Wednesday, May 26, 2004

Woman Masturbates on the L

I saw a bizarre woman on the L tonight reading a book called How the Night Gets In Or at least she appeared to be reading it. She had her legs crossed at a fairly severe angle and was vigorously bouncing the top leg to some internal rhythm. She was not listening to headphones. At first, I thought she was just one more weirdo, but then i noticed her hands shaking with the book in them. So much so, that she couldn't possibly be reading it. What I had originally taken for bad acne on this unattractive woman's face was actually a strange high color. It hit me: this brazen fucking weirdo is masturbating right out in the middle of the L car.

Then I thought, no, you're imagining it. But then, a few minutes later, after a few sighs that might have been deep breaths, she started with the weird crossed leg thing. She bounced away furiously for a few minutes, her hands shook, and then it stopped. I read somewhere that some women are able to orgasm like this.

Bring on the pink elephants and shrinking rooms. My life could not possibly get any more surreal. Another bizarre roller-coaster Wednesday.

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Red Bull Forever

I haven't had a Red Bull since Sunday. I'm doing well, I think. It's the long days that really tire me out. Oh well. The L ride is a welcome break, relaxation. Three more days till my long weekend. VERY long weekend. Oh god, will that be sweet. MP3 archival is very near now to completion. I estimate at least another 2-4 days of concentrated work on it. I'm quite proud that I managed to get anything done, my schedule the way it is. These next few months are going to be quite eventful, if not downright pivotal. I need to order credit checks and business cards. I'll be needing them soon enough. Newfound pieces of music heretofore confined to CD are mingling with my old and new MP3's. This makes me happy. Effectively doubling my MP3 collection. I probably have somewhere in the neighborhood of 6.5 gigs now. Still uncertain if a large-capacity MP3 player is a good decision for me. I'm leaning toward the 30 gig Nomad Zen Xtra. I'm a horrible consumer puppet, I know. I remind myself of Patrick Bateman. Another tick for the task list. Sigh.

Friday, May 21, 2004

Red Bull Breakfast

More adventures in Red Bull breakfast. On an empty stomach that shit can really fuck you up. I had to eat a doughnut just to quell the shakes that I felt coming on. Three months from today I'm getting married. Wow. I'm ready.

Thursday, May 20, 2004

Death and Red Bull

Apparently, Karen Sullivan is dead. All that I know about it was that she died suddenly and Jennifer tried to contact me earlier this week. She called my aunt Peggy and Grandma Brand, who apparently told her I was getting married. Neither of them gave her my phone number, a courtesy I am increasingly thankful for. I have been thinking about it all day. Why would she call me? What could she want to talk to me about it for?

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this.


Red Bull x2 high. An expensive way to stay awake, but effective.

Saturday, May 15, 2004

Red Bull

I'm leaning pretty heavily on the Red Bull today. I need to stay alert and awake just long enough to test, then I'm checking out. Fucking Saturday class is such a hassle. My KOSS earphones broke. They're doing exactly what the old ones did. I'm going to send them back. Harumph.


Took both. Passed both. Thought this day would never end. It ended. Frances, bless her weird little heart, was my tester. She gave me a higher grade than I deserved. My bed should be there when I get home. That may be my first and only stop when I get home. I feel like I haven't slept in a thousand years. I've been pouring energy down my throat in little silver/blue 8 oz cans. I'm so tired that I no longer feel tired. The vasoconstriction / vasodialation effect, circadian-style. Dinner at the Golden Apple because I'm bored, take-out box of a half order of fried chicken for Beth. She's not here yet. It's a dazzlingly gorgeous day. I forgot my fucking sunglasses. Creature comforts pretty well define.

Friday, May 14, 2004


I tried out an iPod and an iPod mini last night. All I can say is whoa. Too fucking cool for words. The mini especially. I want one in a big, bad way. Other MP3 players will have to do a lot better to surpass it. Stylish, sturdy, and devilishly simple. I loved it. The battery is non-removable, this is the major drawback.

I don't know why I'm torturing myself. I can't afford one anyway. More data entry tonight. And studying, too, so I don't fail the shit out of my tests tomorrow. Bleh. I want my wedding ring.

My new bed will be here tomorrow.

Thursday, May 13, 2004


I've embarked on the insane quest to organize my expansive 6 Gig MP3 collection. Not only have I renamed half of them with artist, year, and album name fields, I corrected all the errors in the naming and made them uniform. I had a mild case of jealousy over Denny's iTunes powered MP3 collection. I'm also planning on combining the bulk (not the whole thing. I mean, 125MB of Cocteau Twins?) of Beth's sizeable collection with mine, and then ripping my entire CD collection with some program (haven't found one yet) that will name them correctly by itself. I estimate the total size of the eventual music library at about 15 Gig. In any case, this is a project of thunderously tedious proportions. In the end, I will literally have an expansive, searchable library of music. That rocks.

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

My Band

These chicks don't even know the name of my band.


Mother's Day was all right. It was just Mary Lu, which was nice, plus it was a pretty sweet dinner. Glazed salmon.

I was taking the temperature of a lady today who was about 80, and just as I took the thermometer out, she reached up with both hands and cupped both breasts. She rubbed them a little and then put her hands down. I had one of those "did that really just happen?" moments, and I walked out of the room.

Some weird shit happens to me during the day sometimes. It's like living in an episode of Jerry Springer.

Any group that pisses off enough of the wrong people historically gets slated for annihilation. Christians, Jews, gypsies, Armenians, Aboriginals of every continent... All groups who seemed too radical. Groups who would not submit to modernity. Cries of Jihad always end up as cries of genocide. Sooner or later, the rest of the world is going to become tired of the fundamentalism and turn their backs while secular capitalists eat them alive. Some misguided Jihadis will smuggle a nuke or dirty bomb into a major city, and the call from uneducated, xenophobic middle America will be not for change, but for blood.

OK, so obviously I'm not in a very love-thy-brother sort of mood today, but seriously, I watched an 80 year old woman feel herself up right in front of me today. Talk about disturbing. I'm supposed to feel bad because some un-uniformed saboteur who makes pipe-bombs for a living to murder young American men had his picture taken with a pair of panties on his head? If you wanted to disturb me, you'll have to do better than that.


Sifl & Ollie.

I haven't thought about them in a long time. They were funny as hell.

Weeeeeere up here in the cabinet, bangin on some pots and pans!
Maybe we can make a plan!
Maybe we can steal a van!

Note to self: download episodes of Sifl & Ollie.


Man, that was some hard shit I was focused on earlier. Testosterone poisoning? Hmmm... I've had serious MP3 player envy lately. Even when I have a PDA that plays them AND an old Rio 100 player. Bleh. Get over it Mark. One more gadget is the last damn thing I need.

I wish I could find a used one like Denny's. A 15 GB would be nice. I'm a horrible consumer, I know. I need to find a better way to use the old one I have.

And I just got panhandled by a visibly stoned/brain damaged 60ish black homeless man. Despite the fact that it's about 80 degrees outside, he was wearing a full size winter coat with fur hood and everything. He stood and stared at me when I didn't reply.

...And a cop gets on at Southport, safely four or five stops from where the homeless dirtbags get off. Oh well. Good ol' purple line.

Saturday, May 08, 2004

I hate the whole world

The world is my cafeteria. I have noticed that I am a much ruder person than I used to be. I no longer have patience for anything and I have lost the ability to hide my disdain of others. For example, when I am by myself anymore, I remove my MP3 player headphones just long enough to order my meal, and then I tune out everyone and everything surrounding me, even my friends. Why do I do this? Hell if I know. I mean headphones in McDonald's is uncouth, but I've taken to wearing them in actual restaurants. Maybe it's the insipid elevator pop they play, maybe I want to make it clear to the groveling waitpersons that they need not pander to me.

I hate the whole world.

Wednesday, May 05, 2004

Baloney CAM walker

I caught the funniest typo ever today. Instead of "patient was given a below knee CAM walker," the transcriptionist typed "patient was given a baloney CAM walker."

Wrote to several friends, received only a reply from my mom. Sent her a Mother's Day card. Wish I could send more.

Trying to find a minute to get my bills sorted out. The stupid CSMT financial aid office has its head up its ass.

Tuesday, May 04, 2004

Scalpel cut

Feeling much better lately. Disconnected, surreal, forgetful, without much affect, but at least not currently exhausted, in pain, or having a panic attack. Last panic attack was Sunday morning, I should start charting them. Anyway, I haven't updated lately because every free minute (and there haven't been many) was taken up by playing Hitman Contracts and babysitting Beth's niece and nephew. I think I will like teenagers a lot better than infants. We hung out with a 14 and 12 year old this weekend. Both the nicest, most well-tempered kids you could ask for. I had a good clinic day Sunday, which definitely mellowed me out. So this week has been OK so far. I managed to sign up for a dental plan (open enrollment BIATCH!) and survive a morning of three doctors without really losing my head too badly. I feel some small amount of control returning to my life. Some small amount of humanity. Maybe I'm getting to the point where I can really adjust to all this.

We need a new bed. In a big way. Our worn out old queen sags in the center like a soggy piece of toast, and sleeping turns into a super bowl tackle pile-up. We're going to buy one on Thursday night.

I'm sitting on the L. Several 40 something men are flirting with several bored-looking 20 something girls. And I don't much feel like writing anymore.

Time to get back into my own life.

I managed to slice open my finger with a razor-sharp #11 scalpel today. It wasn't particularly deep but it was deep enough. The most interesting part was that it hurt quite a lot. Like a paper cut made with a rusty tin can. So much for painlessness with very sharp implements. It hurt like shit and was really raspy painful. All I did was touch it the wrong way and it bit into my finger about 1/4 inch. Sharp little bastard.