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the prodigal returns and she is SO not sorry 2001-08-22 I played hooky yesterday, and I am stone cold remorseless. I called in sick because I had cramps, which is not something I usually do. Generally with the cramps I take a couple ibuprofen and just go to work, but yesterday I didn't feel like it, and also I have over 200 sick hours accumulated and, barring unforeseen tragedy, it is clear I won't use these hours before I leave the job. Since The Employer does not reimburse for unused sick hours when a person leaves, THIS person is going to start using some. I stayed home and did laundry and made bread (not as impressive as it sounds--we have a breadmaker) and put the flea prevention stuff on my cats (this involved some running, because they are wily), and painted my fingernails chartreuse. I also read and watched some television, most notably Sally Jesse Raphael ('please help my fat teen') and Trading Spaces. I watched the Sally show because I was interested to see what the counselors [people who inevitably come on toward the end of the show and dispense trite phrases] would say to the kids, but as it turns out they said pretty much nothing. What the show did was promise to send all the kids to fat camp and get them some over-the-phone help/counseling until the camp started, and that was it. The kids seemed less than thrilled at the camp prospect, but hopefully they found the camp helpful. I don't normally watch talk shows, at all. I think they are generally just prurient and smarmy and whatnot, and plus I am not usually home when they are on. But the Sally show sucked me in for the end payoff of trite advice and then did not deliver the goods. Bastards. I finished a book yesterday that I had read twice before, but not for a long time. The book is "Lucifer's Hammer", which is about a comet that hits the earth and the horrible aftermatch that ensues. It rocks! I really love books/movies about the destruction of most of the population--wishful thinking, I guess. You know that comet movie that came out a couple summers ago? Starring Tea Leoni and some other people whose names I cannot recall though I can picture their faces ever so clearly? Well, that movie sucked. That movie isn't fit to kiss the ass of Lucifer's Hammer, and do you know why? The movie featured way too much buildup and almost zero aftermath. The aftermath is what it's all about, baby. If you want to write a story about the destruction of the earth and most of the earth's population, but you can't supply the aftermath, then you are a terrible writer and someone should take your pen away. Seriously, there Must be aftermath, and lots of it. Can anyone suggest similar stories to me, because I just can't get enough. I have read The Stand and I pronounce it to be good, even thought there was all that weird good vs. evil shit going on. There is a strange and unsettling thing happening at the gym lately. There are a bunch of new gym members, all guys, and they are coming to the gym in the early morning only to lift the weights. This in itself isn't weird, but they lift the weights in Groups. Like a bunch of guys will stand around one guy on a machine and will talk amongst themselves while he lifts the weights and grunts and makes it all very manly and dramatic. One of the observers usually 'spots' the lifter, ostentatiously, and all the observers will do some encouraging macho yellings when the lifter begins to really strain his muscles. When that guy is done, another guy will take his place and it starts over again. I guess I should be happy for them that they have a support group, but it's Way too fraught with testosterone. I can imagine them as little boys, with one boy in the center of the group pulling the wings off a fly while the others watch. It is sinister. This morning Wedgie Man (I've spoken of him previously) made a break from the weight boys to become a mentor to one of the new guys. Wedgie Man, to recap, is an extremely buffed out guy whose shorts are apparently drawn magneticly to his ass crack, because they're there all the time. The guy he is mentoring has arms like spaghetti strands. WM was encouraging Spaghetti Arms this morning by doing the testosterone-laden yellings, and at one point he shouted (quite loudly I must say), "Get ANGRY!". I thought that was a bit much. I think WM takes steroids (he is That big) and hopefully Spaghetti Arms will not copy that part of WM's lifting strategy. I'm considering taking a vacation from this diary like Miss Catie did from hers. Lately I've been feeling very uninspired and my entries don't seem as interesting to me, and plus there are many fewer people reading it recently and that makes me feel a tad unloved. Hmm, perhaps those things have a correlation. I'm telling myself that maybe people are on real vacations and are away from their computers, and that's why fewer people are reading, and I'm telling myself that it doesn't matter if people read it or not. And it's true, it doesn't matter, but I Like when people read. I could keep a private diary but I don't, and do you know why? I'm a whore for attention, that's why. Love me love me! Uch, I make myself sick. So maybe I'll take a vacation for a few days, but I haven't decided yet, and if I do decide to, I will let you know. Until later my little chocolate pop tarts, Love,
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
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