:: a.whisper.in.water ::

:: Wednesday, July 16, 2003 ::

*SNARL*
The fucking wires I've spend so fucking long epoxying to those fucking chips just fucking fell off while being mounted. GodDAMNITT. It's like everything going decently well before a space launch, then having the elevator up to the top of the shuttle fail and plummet to earth, taking all my astronauts with it. And my fucking hair is still fucking uneven (there's one stupid swatch in the back where I messed up) and I'm sleepy and cranky and I need to start a fire someplace, or shatter something very expensive, because holy SHIT I spent hours on those things, and they just FELL APART. I'm not making some sort of goddamn priceless pi?ata here (worst job ever, to see your bloodsweatears beaten to shit by a bunch of snot-ass kids), and I want my goddamn work to stay together. Ugh, back to the oven, back to mixing up a batch of epoxy, and back to late nights of work, though I certainly deserve that particular card.

Bleeding fuck.

The grim detail: George Harrison's Cloud Nine playing in the background. In any case.

The day before yesterday was spent at a good day of work, followed by time with the Camp Kweebeckers, who were staying at a Motel 6 near the KoP mall on their day off. *shrugs* It sort of makes sense, but it did mean that I was stuck in a motel for a longish period of time while waiting for people I actually knew to come by. So, breaking a longish streak, I wound up watching TV for an hour or so. TV is pure fucking shit. It was hard enough for me to stomach it in and of itself; I had to make noises of contempt and snide, cynical remarks that I'm sure won me a place in everyone's rectums. However, all the normal folk were watching the show seriously, picking favorites and enjoying the damn thing like it wasn't the thirteen-billionth sign of the fucking apocalypse. Blows my mind. There was a pleasant girl named Cat from Australia (sidenote: embroiled in an odd love-triangle with Julie and Ted, most likely unwittingly) who made things slightly tolerable before Juils-of-many-name-abbreviations got in. I like surprises, doubly so when I am the aforementioned surprise.

In any case, the evening was a long one, spent wandering around motel grounds, either with various Camp folk (mostly UK-international folk who harped on other UK-international folk in their little accents) or with a cellphone in tow. I feel like a total jerk every time I lose my temper with Jenn for the same old things, but am simultaneously tired and annoyed by conversational meltdown at the mere mention of any of the so-called big three, or any peripheral female acquaintances. I realize I toe some sort of line by being so cuddly and such, but that's as far as I honestly want anything to go with anyone but Jenn. It's why I feel so insistent about being trusted, really: it's where that particular sense of entitlement comes from. Maura claimed that I attract insecure people. My counter is that I am myself insecure, and have thought out my insecurities well-enough to be able to understand other insecure folks, and act kindly accordingly (Valentine Wiggin). It's far likelier that I simply possess more capacity to feel cozier around people I understand, and consequently express more natural/accessible (and desirable, I guess? Or is that an egotistical misinterpretation?) aspects of myself. Movin' on...

Yesterday wasn't all that bad, all things considered, but it lay under the spectre of an 11-snooze morning, which is exactly what you think it is. Any day that starts like that is capped in its capacity to be awesome. World Peace would have a hard time moving the soul of an 11-snooze morninged individual. Mr. Sandman up and kicked me in the goddamn balls last morning. I never should have let him go first in ro-sham-bo. Luckily, I still made it in to work in time for Walter's phone call, though he's going to be mightily disappointed to hear about the wires. Hey, lunch at Krispy Kreme, though. Doughnuts feel MUCH better going down than staying there, like bags of sand weighing your entire G.I. down.

I left work early, and saw Keith's & Angelina's Cuba video, which was most impressive, and then dancedanced in Tim's living room for the first time in a long, long while (I fucking failed a 5-step standard my first time back on the pads! Absurd!) for perhaps 45 minutes before Ben and Tim were exhausted. The king of stamina I remain, but I need to get my dancing feet back in gear. I have sort of resolved to take little 20-minute runs around campus on a more regular basis, though that might wait until the school year starts and I can drag someone along with.

Tangentially, Chinese food is really weird, in that it almost uniformly tastes the same no matter where you go. So, clearly all Chinese restaurants have the same wholesale dealer for crumpled vegetables, misshapen bean curd, etc..., and we're just paying for decor. But what then, my dear friends, is the point of ordering Chinese food at all? We get no decor, no servile eunuchy man filling our water too often, no talk between waitstaff in Chinese (most likely about us), and no weird, watery tea.

Gosh, I hope the vacuum pump runs okay without liquid nitro for at least a FEW pumpdowns...*darts off*

:: Aziz 11:52 AM [+] ::
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