and my friday...

augh, your humble author seems to have missed the train. literally. got to the venerable penn station ONE FUCKING MINUTE late and the train is gone. so here i sit on the local that gets me in who the hell knows when. unfortunate, for it's time spent trying to angle me bod such that the guy next to me doesn't see my writings, though he's rather cute in that married straight guy sort of way..., oh well. it's a good reason why i'm late.

spent chatting with a friend online. i love my friends. people i know a lot, people i know a little, near [clomp clomp clomp clomp, or] far. (points, major, major points if you get that reference.) so while i had MORE than enough time to get to penn, it's just good to catch up with a friend. sad that marge has to pick me up later, but it's ok. she's cool like that.

and who are today's cast of characters on the railroad? well, we have 'i'madoctorlistentometakecalls!!'-guy. ' NO NO NO i saId no more than 25 ounces of food! do NOT give her more. it will only distort the CT scan tomorrow. do NOT give her more. what do you mean she wants more. i told her this, be firm. ... take her temperature, take her vitals. do you not have an aid? you should have an aid.'

and there is polite seat neighbor. good bloke, moved his bag when i made the 'are you PAYING for two seats?' gesture. has the unfortunate 'i'm trendy!' goatee from the late 90s. my age. wedding ring. now, this is an anomaly of the straights i haven't quite gotten to understand. they meet. they date. they marry. why? late 20s dear. there are over 60 or 70 years you'll live. why do you want to do it NOW with this wondertitschicquita you've met? is it that you're so hellbent on getting your 'i bought my first home!' tax return bonus? if so, that's cool, but otherwise, c'mon now, that's the same piece of ass for SIXTY years. SIXTY. 6 0. six zero.

and there is the nosey chick to my left. yes, dearie, i know you're reading this over my shoulder. i won't be too insulting, but i will say that the whole idea behind 'winter white' is that it's for people who can pull off wearing white in the winter. it's not an obligation, or, worse, an entitlement, but rather a get out of jail free card type of thing. like a, 'why the hell not? it's a hot ensemble and so am i!' kind of thing. not meant for people who don't have rain retaliation. not meant for people who don't know the napkin goes on the lap. not meant for people who don't know that one NEVER sits on the subway. ever. ever. why? THAT is why, smartness.

and in only a few minutes, i'll be with my warm, squishy, dumb-as-dirt, better-than-most-humans-i've-met, sheepdogs. as you know, time is ticking, so i'm spending more time with them than usual. funny, not sure when i went from silly, aloof, in-my-20s-and-loving-love guy to omg-my-dogs-will-die-soon-and-i-have-to-get-my-retirement-accounts-in-order guy, maybe when homer died reality hit me in the face harder and earlier than my friends, but here i am. and it's ok... never thought i'd sign a lease or travel at will, but while many other comingintoage guys would differ, adulthood is kinda ok. assets equal liabilities and owners equity, and what the hell, in the end, i'm the same guy.

people / things that pissed me off today

1. work load. no no, i'm not a rocket scientist, and i probably won't get a funky 'shit, what a career choice!'-induced disease from the beige cubefarm, but do i need SIX new fucking projects tomorrow? and the fucking coordinator who assigns the projects love love love lovity loves von lovesalot to give them to me. 'oh mr. t. you're gonna get slammed! no lunches for you! oh man. wow.' fuck you. fuck you, twice. the only thing to fear is fear itself, thank you teddy r. (was that teddy r.?) , but do i NEED THAT? no. i could do my job stoned. i could take a leave of absence and nothing would go to pot. (why, don't mind if i do.) nothing ever terribly difficult or blows up if i'm not around, but stop the 'you're going to hate your job more than you already do' talk, won't you, sweets?

the good news: the beige half-cubes will soon be beige full-cubes. thank fucking god. even more beige. bring it on. OH AND WHAT THE FUCK about the sanctimonious twat who got a new office and proceeded TO PUT UP VENETIAN BLINDS IN THE WINDOW? nobody ELSE has blinds, you twatburger, SO WHY YOU? and since you clearly bought them yourself, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU BUY BEIGE FOR? is his life so dull, empty, and boring that he thinks in beige at home, too? come now! a striking royal blue, or if he wanted to mix shit up, even a deep green, but BEIGE? i want to laugh and give him the finger every time i pass there. of course, as he's got no personality, the slots are parallel to the floor, defeating entirely the point OF the blinds, so he'd see me. i still don't know i won't.

2. t-fucking-mobile. recall i spent a week in europe. a week i didn't use my phone. therefore, my billing cycle is based on three weeks, not four. so tell me, ye olde wise t-fucking-mobile rep, HOW THE FUCK IS IT POSSIBLE THAT I WENT OVER MY MINUTES ENOUGH TO BRING MY BILL TO $150? oh, that's right, smartness, IT'S NOT. i've never come even half-way to the 650 anyfuckingtime minutes, ever, once in the four years i've been with these fucknuts, four-week cycle or not. but in three weeks, i do myself in. 'well, you should go over each line in the statement to make sure that the call you made is yours. and may i take this time to remind you that certain life events can cause a sudden increase in usage: getting out of a relationship, or in a relationship, death of a loved one, new job, demotion, or promotion...' ''stop. no. what? are you kidding me? do i need to give you a co-pay when you're done?...' 'i just want to make sure you understand that list, while i believe you when you say you do, so i'll start again. certain life events...' mother fucker. yes, i understand you can read from a script in YOUR beige cube, but maybe, since you agreed this is out of character for my billing history, you can have someone THERE in BILLING look my bill the fuck over? hmm? hmm?!?!

3. old navy socks. oh my, this nearly did me in. got to central park on my lunch hour, running, running, loving life, loving life, (what's that chafing...) running, madonna, running, amber, running, the weather girls, (ouch.) (eh?) (that's annoying.) (geez, it's not getting better.) (blister? now?) (but i've worn these socks 1000000000 times.) (maybe it's because i've worn these socks 1000000000 times.) get to end of run, lovely seven miles, back in gym, stretching with the southern belle in design who calls me sweetness, 'haaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy swweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenesssssss!!!!!!!!!!!' who i ran into in the park. 'haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrrllllllllllllllllllllll!' we banter, we stretch, i'm BLEEDING through my sneaker. this isn't good. take sneaker off in locker room, make sure no one is around to witness the biohazard, yeah, it's not pretty. take 1000000000 sock off, need a fucking transfusion. limp on one foot to the showers, OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH water on newly exposed blisters is not a day in the magic kingdom. but here is what does me in: the WEIRDO janitor felt the need to take THAT MOMENT i was in the shower to take his bleach / detergent mix and sterilize the floor of the shower room. now, hobble as i may, i STILL managed to step in his frothy concoction and man alive, i was in pain. bleach and soap burn open cuts, just throwing that out there. and for the record, if i were to get bunga junga, it's single handedly from new york sports club.

at least bosslady isn't in tomorrow. instead of starting the SIX motherfucking new projects, i'll pour over the calls from my cel and take an 'angry at the world' longerthanusual lunch. yes, me thinks me will. grr...

reflections on yesterday...

i like spaghettio's. i like creamed spinach. would i like the two together? why yes, it turns out i would. a lot, in fact.

and laundry. yet another reflection on fucking laundry. just for the record, the double loader does NOT end at the same time as a single loader. and while i can bake my laundry for a half hour, my towels will never, ever be fully dry. i swear they're fucking with me. AND, since i last laundered there, the dry went from 8 minutes for $.25 to 7 minutes. no sign. no warning. nothing. just wetter-than-usual towels and the weird chick yelling about how she wants to go home and to hurry back, bla bla bla. hurry this, sweetheart.

i had my internal move interview with big brother yesterday. i interviewed with pedro from napoleon dynamite. everything, everyfuckingthing, about him was pedro. i didn't get it at first, but when i realized of whom he reminded me, i giggled a little bit, just as he's asking me, 'eef i were to call your boss and asked heem what your weakness was, what woood he say?' i'm all thinking, 'i don't know what they do down in WAR-rez, pedro, but up here we have a little something called self-respect.' he actually asked me if i understood the question.... little hr types, so anal. so sell outs. so sad.... and i'm sure she was family, so i'm on the other side of the table making peering eye contact and looking at his chest from time to time just to trip him up. he, in turn, was avoiding eye contact and shifting around a lot. it's fun to be with repressed homosexuals during job interviews. when did i become a pervert?