Monday, June 21, 2004

We made love last night.

We made love last night.

Actually, we didn't, but I wrote a song called "we made love last night" on the MusicMaker software for Beth. It's beautiful, in its way, though these projects never turn out quite the way I plan them. When I went to bed, the guitar track sounded raw and awful, but the more I listen to it, the more I like it. I may just leave it as is and not overproduce it. Jewel's voice sounds awesome filtered through compressor/flanger/chorus/reverb pedals. Plus I managed a fair drumline more varied than previous songs. I can't wait to play it for her.

Friday, June 04, 2004

Bald

And June is in full effect. This has been a surprisingly painless week thus far. Went to the cancer center last night and worked on a bald woman. It was surprising how aesthetically unobtrusive and interesting feminine baldness is. I admit, I felt a little ashamed even thinking that, given the context. Chemotherapy isn't exactly supposed to be fashionable, but hey. My mind is in a state of nearly perpetual misbehavior.

Rumblings of jobness. Apparently there's a job for me if I want full time. Possibly working with Doug. Not sure if I want that.

You were everything, everything that I wanted,
We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it,
All of the memories so close to me just fade away,
All this time we were pretending,
So much for my happy ending.


I'm rather impressed/obsessed/addicted to that song. I had totally written off Avril Lavigne, but her new album is just ferocious.

I have an aunt that plays the guitar

I used to hate my parents' dog Raven. I don't know why. She's a big German Shepherd about a year old. She's still just a puppy and is sort of annoying. One of those dogs that you know just wasn't spanked enough as a pup and now still thinks it can get away with the same sort of shenanigans that it could when it was little. That and she's sort of an ugly blackish color with no real defining colors. Not much to show for being a pure bred. Nonetheless, for some unknown reason, I've begun taking a half hour or so out of every evening to go outside and play with her. Frisbee, baseballs, she'll chase practically anything. It's sort of relaxing and stress relieving. I never thought I'd EVER like that dog. I guess maybe the same qualities that made me hate her initially are what endears her to me now.

Another gorgeous day today. I could almost believe in divine intervention. I guess the Chinese proverb "It doesn't rain every day" is applicable here. I like Chinese fortune cookies almost as much as horoscopes. I got one the other day that was really profound. I think it said something to the effect that only by following my desires would I ever find true happiness. A very non-Western hedonist view, but it was so cleverly worded that I had to admire the subtlety. Jen read me a list of funny sayings in other languages that are analogies for English sayings. The funniest of which was instead of saying "What's that got to do with the price of tea in China?", the Spanish say: "So? I have an aunt that plays the guitar." Marvelously poetic.

I'm going to a confirmation party this afternoon for one of my cousins. Funny, really. Since my own confirmation into the Catholic church, I can count the number of times on one hand which I have attended mass. I suppose that speaks well for the success of the system. That's all Catholicism is, really. A system. A social construct designed originally to quell thought and rebelliousness in the working class by promising them something better in life after death providing they behaved civilly and worked hard. What a tremendous lie. I can't think of another lie in the history of mankind that was so beautifully concocted. Don't get me wrong, I pray often to God. The same God that the Catholics and other organized religions pray to. I pray every night, usually. And I pray in the spirit that the bible has taught me. But I'll be damned if I support an institution that has incited more death and destruction and is responsible for more oppression than any other in the history of mankind.

Wow. That's the most I've spoken about that in a long time.
Can you say psychoanalysis? I knew you could.

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

What you can tell from someone's feet

A huge and impenetrable line blocked access to the L last night, and I was going to be late for class anyway, so I said fuck it, I'm not dealing with that shit tonight and I skipped class. If I have to get tutored to make it up, I'll work with Moira or Ken or somebody other than Snorefest. So I stayed home with Beth, a wonderfully relaxing and wholesome experience. I feel almost human today. I forgot how simple life was without school.

Made a bunch of calls yesterday and figured out some stuff. The CSMT Department of Retards (lovingly titled Finance) is still grousing about my money, and now Beth and I are working on a budget that includes neither my credit line or the disbursement money. Amazingly, thanks to her foresight, it still looks possible.

No panic attack today, thankfully.

We don't need no water, let the motherfucker burn.

I am in a state of near-bliss at completing my now truly-enormous music collection. I have created Radio Free Mark, which is essentially a randomly generated playlist of about 2000 songs that can play for days without repeating itself.

All I'm thinking about right now is that I hope the fucking Cubbies don't have a game tonight. Public transportation becomes an irritating essay in overpopulation on game nights. I just want to go to class quietly.

Is it bad that I count the minutes?

(later)

Energized in a weird way. Every fucking person in the city must be out tonight. The high gas prices push people onto public transportation. $2.33 a gallon.

Maybe this is creepy but I find myself constantly looking at people's feet. When someone wears sandals, I catch myself absently evaluating them for posture problems just based on the shape of their feet. You can really tell a lot about them, if you look closely. A little extra weight might be covered up by a baggy sweatshirt, but is perfectly obvious around the distal tibia and tibiotalar junction. Conversely, someone who looks full figured but has defined ankles is probably wearing a padded bra. Inturned feet is the mark of someone with poor hip joint motility. It gives them more play in their gait that should be coming from their tight, underused hips. Hammertoes is the curse of fashionable businesswomen and splayed toes mean a runner or dancer. Long straight toes with knobby knuckles are sensible (good shoes) average activity (not adapted for stance stability) people. Cankles are a good indicator of early onset arthritis, diabetes, peripheral vascular disease, heart problems, pulmonary problems... You show me any random set of feet, and I can tell a surprising amount about them. I can predict social class, athletic ability, diet, occupation, fashion sensibilities. Not even hands give away as much latent information about a person.