Monday, February 05, 2007

Return to MySpace Mountain...and Other Musings

Here's what's doin' with me these days...

I'm Back, Baby!
After much consideration (and prodding from Mari) I decided to return to MySpace. Only this time I'll be smarter about it. I won't add you unless I know you or speak to you on the regular or really, truly enjoy your music, art or writing. If that's not you- don't bother asking. If you bombard my bulletin board with crap, I'll delete you. If you send me stupid comments on the regular- you're out. Let's be grown-ups about this, 'kay?

I'm leaving it public for about a month before I lock it down and go private, so go peek at it while you have the chance :P

Really? You're Just Gonna Rest Your Bag on My Shoulder All the Way to 14th Street?
The subway gets more and more frustrating the more I have to ride it during rush hour. I mean it takes everything in me not to get ethnic on some of these people! ¡Es que esta gente ya me tienen loca!

FICA and NY State and Insurance, Oh My!
Can you believe how easily and legally one's paycheck can be hijacked by the federal and local government? Not to mention the medical, dental, transit and dependent care deductions I got tricked into signing up breaks my ASS!! My check was, like, $2.00 this pay period. I'm officially STANK about it. Isn't it enough that Uncle Sam is hounding me for his 75G's?? I say we call it even...

I Want It NOW NOW NOW!!!
If I don't care about my retirement, it's my business, TIAA-CREF! Why do I need your and David Koresh's permission to withdraw my funds? THEY ARE MY FUNDS!!! GIVE IT BACK!!! UGH! Do you know how many morning meetings I had to sit through? How many "conversations" Koresh and I had? How many times a student knocked on my door when I didn't want to be bothered? And don't even get me started on the girl who lived on my floor who used to eat her boogers and earwax...or the one who shit her pants on the trip...I EARNED THAT FUCKING MONEY!!! NOW GIVE IT!!!!!

23 Days and Counting...
Have I made any progress on my paper? Some. Do I feel confident that my work will be completed by the end of February as scheduled? No. Do I give three fucks? I want to say no, but then I remember...

Oh So Close...
One of my loyal readers, with my best interest at heart (and perhaps a weak spot for Jaded NYers) has laid down the gauntlet on my thesis procrastination with the most tempting offer: finish your paper and I will introduce you to my good friend Slash. SLASH! As in guitar god from GNR and Velvet Revolver. As in love of my life, second only to John Cusack. As in the guy who's tattoo is forever branded to my right leg, that left me limping in pain for a week. SLASH! I had a tiny heart attack when he said it; I may have a real one when the meeting actually occurs...

Beauty at 30,000 Feet
I've been really angry and moody lately, but only sporadically. Very bi-polar of me. One minute I'm up, the next I'm sharpening knives and plotting. I've taken to reading this entry I wrote in my journal on my way to LA last month. For some reason it helps to calm me (and the voices...the FUCKING BITCH-ASS VOICES!); I'll share:
Mountains, city grid, cotton clouds and smog-powered orange skies...I had to stop and smell the roses...I was escaping into my head again...letting the voices take over...

*smooches...while quietly plotting against FICA*
life is a b-movie
it's stupid and it's strange
it's a directionless story
and the dialogue is lame
but in the he said she said
sometimes there's some poetry
if you turn your back long enough
and let it happen naturally