:: a.whisper.in.water ::

:: Tuesday, June 10, 2003 ::

I hope my baby doesn't come out all fucked up and shit...
...cause this post is from inside L009, the big bad AFM room. Baby. I've been working here for about 3 hours and 20 minutes, and though before today that would have been cause to off myself in horrific scientific fashion (probably by eating all my samples), today it's immensely more tolerable, as I'm not just wandering around, God bless Walter. My concern is that blogging will somehow mess things up, even though that's total poppycock.

So much music, so much joy. New album and all that coming soon, single already out that I've somehow managed not to hear, though I can't imagine that's going to last. I figure I'll just come in with no expectations and enjoy what they give me.

So yesterday was a pleasant little insanity, courtesy of Leah, Juliana, and Ted, though it got started a little late on account of Camp Kweebec As long as the main means of public outreach are going to have the wrong directions on them, I'm going to deliberately mispronounce their name in a cruel and mocking tone. In any case, it was a merry little romp about the painfully rural surrounding areas (a Wawa was a sort of center-of-civilization, but what a Wawa!), ending with minigolf where boys beat girls, and the misogyny flowed like sweet, sweet menstrual wine (Oh, deliciously gross, deliciously gross indeed.) It was most fun, terminating in a long conversation back at the camp itself, which rather reminded me of the vaunted Sandy Island...I got to drive away a couple of limeys by being myself and setting some armhair ablaze, which didn't help their initial perception of me: stoned. Note for all of us yanks: insane British-colony slang for stoned is "goffed," or perhaps something that sounds like it, 'cause I was asked whether I was or not. There was a definite sort of romanticization/fetishization of non-American-ness amongst the two of them which I could understand all too well. The drive back was much less of a hassle, now that directions were known. It's entirely possible I may return on Wednesday to swim, if the weather's nice enough and circumstances are permitting. I need to swim my growing belly away, and today's breakfast at the Coop isn't making it go anywhere fast but out.

(NB: Given that this post was started on the 10th, but left until the 11th for completion, I suppose Camp Kweebec day was the day before yesterday, now, wasn't it?)

Oh, and I got faded hardcore at the Wynnewood Supercuts, to my undying chagrin. Mercifully, the stylist told me what to tell other stylists the next time I wanted something less House Party, or possibly House Party II. My the time I see my baby again (girl, you need to post 'fo I git nasty on you fo' bein' a sloppy-ass blogga-fool!), it'll be looking near its best, so I'm not that worried. In the interim, I feel like a stooge (nyuk nyuk) when I wake up and see what cruel sleep has done to my hair, but after a little bit of stylin' and lovin', it really isn't that bad. Just...scalp-exposing. ::shudder:: Back to imaging chips I've dropped!

Music of the Moment: David Bowie - Everyone Says "Hi"

:: Aziz 3:42 PM [+] ::
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