I Can't Keep My Hands Off Of Myself

I've never been able to. I'm futilely and deperately trying to stop myself from picking my nails. I'll start tearing at them and immediately I'll say to myself, "Notyomomma, stop that. You know you have made a sacred vow to yourself to never do that again." Literally, half a second later, after my mind has drifted to whatever ADD inspired topic is next, I will catch myself picking at them again. I have to mantra myself to death to freaking stop. Although I'm a big fan of mantras, this one is wearing me out.

Yesterday, during the fabulous, amazing, nature worshipping, unbelievable, heart swelling, invigorating, glorious weather we experienced yesterday here in Boston, I took a jog at the Arboretum, which is walking distance from my house. I jogged for an hour. An hour! You tell me to do that any other day and I'll try to make you wash your mouth out with soap. But, the weather was so fucking awesome, I was- get this- happy while I jogged. I was just running around feeling content with the world, myself, life, possibility, everything.

The House of Convenience

I'm eating a "Big Kat" kit kat. It's fucking huge and I don't care. I do care about being trapped in this office. I know, I harp on this all the time. But, I'm here and stuck. If I weren't here, I would most definitely not be blogging. So the complaining and blogging are quite inseparable.

I was gonna jog today, but have you felt the weather? It's ridiculous straight up. Perhaps my wool pants aren't helping matters. I own two pairs of dress pants. One of them happens to be wool. When I receive my first real paycheck- honey, don't you worry, I will bathe myself in summer slacks.

Guess what. The parents that aren't mine came to town and my friends were kind to host me during their stay. When I returned home, I found another big ticket item smack dab in the middle of the front room. Drum roll, please. It's an elliptical machine! Like, straight out of the gym, serious elliptical machine. I haven't used it yet, but since it's too hot to jog...I'm sure I'll fall in love with it, causing me to take an extra couple of months to move out. This house of convenience will be my ruin! Bah! What I really love about The House of Convenience, though, is the computer. Sweet, beautiful, mean editing machine computer. I did some editing Monday night, as a matter of fact. Due to my lack of actor resources, my work is taking on a Cindy Sherman-esque quality. But, one of my lovely friends will be helping me with my next project soon. Yay!

Did Lou Reed die or something?

Am I missing something? Why does KCRW keep plying Take A Walk On The Wild Side?

Art Art Art Art Art Art

Jean Blackburn's art at the DeCordova's Annual was the highlight for me. That and the swirling wood panelled installation by Nadya Volicer. The Annual is a collection of contemporary work by New England artists, culled to highlight a variety of mediums and gender/ethnic diversity. Honestly, it was a disappoinment compared to last year over all, but finding even just one artist to enjoy still makes it worthwhile. What I loved about Blackburn's work is how she approaches everything around her as a possible work of art. She redesigns the familiar to make it more beautiful. The idea of redesigning your surroundings to make it more of an art/design-centric personalized world is most fabulous, I have to say. For instance, in one piece, she took a run of the mill door, of the kind each of us looks at every day in our homes, and she carved this fantastic swirling design in it, which unearthed and showcased the different layers of wood construction within the door. The layers made the design even more fabulous. Voila! Run of the mill door now very cool piece of functional art.

Although, most of the rest of the work indoors was a wash, the art in the sculpture garden is always invigorating. There's nothing better than running around enormous green fields being dwarfed by gargantuan art in some areas and surprised by hidden art in others. Generally, I prefer the outdoor art that seems to take nature one step further. Appearing as if it could've been a part of nature- if nature was a little more perfect and followed stricter design rules.

Blog Fart

I am so ridiculously tired. I haven't been this tired at work in quite a while. Maybe some Peet's coffee is in order. There are some weekends that just aren't long enough. I was too active this weekend. If I don't lay about the house for at least 4 hours on Sunday, then I am not prepared for my slave work duty on Monday. Ok, I'm going to go get that coffee now. Hold on a sec...

I got that coffee. But I'm beginning to believe coffee is bad for you. Considerably bad for you. Probably shouldn't drink it every day bad for you. It goes against my whole healthy food lifestyle. I mean, I am avid about consuming mainly fruits and vegetables. Now, I'm doing my body a disservice by drowning it in a drug known as coffee.

Sip.

Ok, so back to my tiredness. I'm tired. I'm also a little bored and want to go home and lie down. The office is boring me today. More so than it has in a while. I guess Atlanta and the whole real paycheck realization made last week more or less exciting. But, now it's this week. And the sameness of it all is back in full force.

I played a game this weekend called Taboo, which I loved. I LOVE BOARD GAMES. I do.

Would this be considered blog farting? Because this entry is quite aimless, no? And sporadic.

I need an agenda.

Brief and of Little Substance

I think the Peet's guy checked me out today. I really do.

To answer Anonymous' question regarding my break up, let's just say even the fizzle fizzled out. It was so fizzled out before we uttered the break up words, our lives have changed very little since the talk. The only difference is now I sleep in a different bed.

What's been going on in my world? So sorry I can't blog with abandon like I used to. I'm a permament employee now, which means The Man has got me right where he wants me: complacent with monthly checks. If I wanna keep the nice cash flow, I gotta play by the rules. The workplace sent me to Atlanta for training as a matter of fact. At which, I fear I have made my first tactical error-

What?? I can leave now? The powers that be just told me I can leave early! I can't stay and blog now, can I?

Gotta run...

Pulsing Loins

My loins are pulsing. I kid you not. As we all know, I am a newly minted single. I'm more than ready to enter my Sex & the City era. First naughty desire: the twenty-sumpthinsumpthin hottie at the Peet's I frequent. He's fantastically hot! I stared. I did. He probably noticed the office drabbed 30 year old leering, but hey! He's so hot, he could be a model for Abercrombie & Fitch. I should tell him that. (Note to self: do NOT tell him that.) People working in the service industry are much cuter than people working in offices. Haven't you noticed that? Is it the 5-10 year age difference that really makes that much difference? Maybe it's all of the sweater vests and drab slacks we're forced to wear that makes us lose our sexy luster. The untucked t-shirts and baggy shorts are rocking it for them, let me tell you.

Most Excellent Idea. But...Jittery Rant? Come on.

You didn’t have to mention that you’ve been drinking coffee. You should copy this jittery rant and paste it on your blog.


-----Original Message-----
From: Notyomomma
Sent: Friday, July 08, 2005 2:13 PM
To: DallasSugarMuffinWhoStinks
Subject: RE: Can you


I tried to look it up on the internet and the site is blocked! How goofy is that? Did I tell you my co. makes all of their new hires take a drug test? How ghetto is that? I guess people in Atlanta do a lot of drugs.

I am having dinner with a friend Errin, who I knew back in the day in San Diego. We're going to Delux Cafe. I think it's the last place in Boston you can buy a beer for $2. Well, besides dive bars. There are lots of dive bars in Boston. Dive bars scare me. They're all full of men with gray hair who look crochety. There's a dive bar I used to pass on my way to work every morning. No lie, there would be old men in there at 7 in the morning, drinking, I don't know, what do old men drink? whisky? with their hash and bacon and eggs. I am soo moving away from my point here. I think my point is that dive bars fascinate me and I wish I wasn't too scared to enter them. That same dive bar I just mentioned is also a big lesbian hangout. Isn't that weird? There are old crochety men and tank topped beefy women just hanging out together. Who wins the jukebox in that situation?

Ok, now I'm really going to get back to my point. Ashlee will be joining us. Then, Ashlee and I plan on shaking our tailfeathers. But we don't know where yet.

I drink coffee everyday now. Medium iced coffees from Peet's.

iLantern

I swear to god I've attempted to blog at least 4 times since Tueday. But I can't seem to squeeze more than 5 sentences out. My dialogue is more internal than external these days, so I'm pretty sure that's to blame. The pedantic thoughts that are consuming me don't play out so well on the blog page. I'm sure I'll snap out of it soon enough, but in the meantime...well, not sure. It's like finding my way out of a cave to rekindle my former gregarious (relatively) self.

Is this a light?

My Saturday dinner date

He did hit a tree!

Beer + Morning = God Hating You

I'm taking forever to get to work this morning. I'm printing shit out, playing with my iTunes, etc. It doesn't help that I woke up at 7:30. (Gotta be at work at 8:30. Maybe some of you can pull that off. I sure can't.) But, hey, it's a holiday! Well, holiday weekend at least. Let the useless activities begin! I'm starting the morning off with a beer. Is that wrong? Well, if I gotta ask...sure sign of wrongness. I'm actually feeling a little buzzed- it being the morning, that can happen from one beer- when I notice I have a voicemail. The iTunes is still playing loudly in the background, when I believe what I hear to be my boyfriend telling me he's hit a tree. Am I drunk? Did I hear that right? Oh my god! Turn off the iTunes! What's going on?! I play the message again and sure enough, he said, "Call me. I've been in an accident. I've hit a tree." The one time I drink in the morning, this is what happens. Lord, please forgive me. Lesson learned! Lesson learned!

Immediately, I call him back and something strange happens. The call is answered, but no one is responding. Jesus. Is he lying incapacitated in the road, only able to move his one pinky finger to answer the call, his mouth horribly disfigured by glass and bark? My poor baby! I repeat his name over and over, asking him if he's alright. Then, I start hearing some muffled sounds. It sounds kinda like him actually. Like he's talking to someone else. After a little bit of this, I decide to hang up and call back. Again, the phone is answered but no one is talking directly to me. Weird. Maybe the cops are there and he's explaining things? I finally exhale. At least, he's conherent and able to carry on a conversation, albeit not with me. Hmmm. What IS going on? I call back. Again, the phone is answered but no one replies to me. This time, I can actually hear what's going on. It's definitely my boyfriend talking. He's talking about...wait a sec...saltines? Then, I hear people laughing. Major deja vu. WAIT A SECOND. I remember this! He told me this saltines joke yesterday. Motherfucker! He's joking around and I'm making myself more late by worrying about his sorry ass? Not cool, man. Not cool.

Theories running through my mind:

1) He really wanted me to call him back, so he thought telling me he hit a tree would be the winner for having me return his call.

2) He hit a tree, but it wasn't that bad and now he's at work. He wanted to answer the phone, but there were other doctors around, so he couldn't talk to me.

Since he's obviously fine and telling everyone the saltines joke and I am even more sober than before I had the beer, I head to work. I call him a couple of more times on my way to work and also email him. No answer. No reply.

Whatever.

Finally, I'm at work. My boss greets me with a "You're late today, huh?" I want to relay to him that my boyfriend tried to pretend he was dead this morning, but decide it's probably better if I just take the hit. An hour passes, doo do doo, I'm working and successfully putting it all in the back of my mind.

My phone rings.

It's one of my boyfriend's friends. He never calls me. Fuck. What the hell is going on? Is this an evil prank or have I entered the Twilight Zone? A strategy forms. If it's an emergency, he'll tell me straight away. If not, I'll just feel him out and play it cool.

Me: Hello.

Him: Hi, how are you?

Me: Fine. How are you?

Him: What's going on?

Me: Nothing. What's going on with you?

Him: Anything new going on in your life?

Me: (I can't take it anymore) Kumcalledmethismorningandtoldmehehitatree!

Him: I saw him in the hospital this morning, but on a patient bed.

Me: Are you serious?!

Him: He looked ok though. He was laughing as a matter of fact.

The friend wasn't able to stop by the room, so he was calling me to see what was going on. I swapped what I knew with him telling me he looked pretty unharmed. We came to the conclusion that he, well, hit a tree, but it wasn't that bad. If he was sent home, he without a doubt would've called me. I think he was checked out and found to be unharmed (maybe just a little dazed) and went to work. He probably decided to be seen or x-rayed or something since he was going to the hospital anyway. He's telling the saltines joke for chrissakes.

Did I mention we had been driving a rental car for the past couple of weeks? I shit you not that we just picked up the car last night from the auto shop. Oh, so funny.

Can I have that beer now?