Sooner or escalator

30 August 2011

Another good day to you lovers, friends, family and visiting extraterrestrials.

GF and I use Metrorail to get to and from work every day. I would find it quite easy to turn this blog into a continual self-absorbed groan on the frequently inoperational Metrorail escalators.

But I won’t.

First, I don’t really mind out-of-order motorized incline devices. I like walking. Walking makes me remember I’m alive. Walking makes me realize the world and I are the same. Sometimes walking is the only thing that feels real to me.

Second, we have a functioning Metro system. It could be better, yes. But it could also not exist. I would not enjoy that alternative.

However, sometimes I feel like I should complain about Metrorail. There are lots of things about which I feel I should complain even if they don’t really make me angry. I can’t explain (and neither can Pete Townshend).

Today, two of three escalators leading out of the Court House Metro station were broken (or at least not running). The other escalator was [pretentious description ALERT] transporting humans and luggage down into the bowels of public transit.

So, GF and I walked up the escalator. The person in front of me was wearing a book bag, carrying a book (defeating the purpose of the book bag?) and was wearing exercise gear. My face felt magnetically attracted to her book bag. I stared at it and it stared back. The abyss is a book bag.

Yeesh. If you made it this far in today’s post, I apologize. I don’t remember reading or hearing anything so schmaltzy and pretentious that would have influenced me so lately. Perhaps it is the combination of whisky and Icelandic chocolate.

"There's more to life than this"? I don't think so Bjork.

And yes, I did eat the chocolate while listening to Bjork. I think it intensified the effect.

By the way – Did you remember the video competition from yesterday’s post? No? Then read it and enter to win a parcel from…me!

Latte digs

16 August 2011

I had a latte today.

For readers not familiar with lattes*, they (the lattes, not the readers, although I don’t mean to make assumptions) are whipped, heated cow pus, caramel, two heavily beaten coffee beans and two scoops of sour cream. Yum.

I drank the beverage and felt like I had eaten fifteen bags of jellybeans inside twenty doughnuts. (I think the jellybeans were in the doughnuts. I was not.)

I sank into bloated depression.

Then the two coffee beans kicked in and I felt good.

So GF and I walked home. On Metro, nothing exciting occurred as far as I could tell. GF said one ginger-domed dude was being a grade-A hole to another passenger who may have been:

A. His sister

B. His friend

C. His cousin

D. His girlfriend

E. His mother

F. His holographic projection of insecurity

G. Fab Morvan (yes, that Fab Morvan)

Will the mystery ever be solved?

Earlier this week, the post held my final stack of comic books from Night Flight Comics. DC Comics is restarting their comics by issuing 52 #1 titles (the titles are literally numbered “one”). I don’t agree with the choice. I think some of the ideas look great, but restarting some of the series annoys me as a longtime reader (first time caller).

I just reread what I wrote and am too bored by it to continue my thoughts.

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s brand new Cone Alone.

 

*For my Southern audience

 

Three insignificant incidents

8 August 2011

Reasons I do not want children: #1 My love of junk food.

I watch a lot of television. I saw something on television where a parent was trying to feed healthy food to a child. I would be such a poor parent for a child. I enjoy junk food. I would probably order takeaway for my child every night and it would grow up eating Kung Pao chicken, pad Thai and egg rolls.

Today, I experienced three insignificant incidents.

A. I arrived in the Metro station barely after 8 AM. I did the quick-jog-that-is-trying-not-to-look-like-a-quick-jog down the final stairs so I could catch the train into work. I often rush, and see others rushing, into work. I never see anyone rushing to get home or to the bar or to a pizza place. I know it probably exists. But seeing it would disprove my point about a great human truth.

As usual, all the humans crowded in the doorway rather than moving to the center of the train car (as the humanized robot voice instructs us to do). I refused to be stranded on the platform because some overdressed politicos are not afraid of authoritarian androids.

I shove in the car, much to the grunting chagrin of the other passengers. Then, for three stations (with much pausing in between because of a “backup” at the next station) my bum was pressed against the bum of the passenger directly behind me. His was a gigantic bum. A bum that seemed to conquer the entire world in its enormity. Hindsight is 20/20, but this bum could have hit a moving target from two states away. So we stood there, bum against bum, shifting uncomfortably. At first, I wasn’t even aware of the pressing. But then, at the second stop, I was hyperaware. Nothing else existed but our butts. Like constantly hi-fiving sports aficionados at a game that is “going our way.” Then, the big-butted stranger exited the train. And my butt was free to wiggle on its own.

B. After a day of work, to which I rushed, I walked back to the Metro while eating an apple. I like eating apples while walking. I actually like eating anything while walking. Well, not anything. But I do like eating foods like bread, hotdogs, hotdogs in buns, apples, popcorn, pears, peaches and peanut butter & Nutella sandwiches while walking. (While I am walking, not the food.) Eating while walking is comforting. “Hey world, I’m comfortable enough to eat while I’m walking. I’m not even paying attention to you or to what you think of me. It’s just me, my mouth and this apple. You can’t hurt me world.”

I throw my core in the trashcan (rubbish bin for our UK readers) and continue on to the Metro (Tube). I am riding and hearing a child scream. I stand next to a seat where a young boy child (age 3?) and a young girl child (age 5?) sit, squirming like young children do. Suddenly (as everything is) the boy child topples forward headfirst between the seats. With reflexes that would make a snake jealous, the male parent/guardian figure (seated in the seat behind the seated children) reaches forward and grabs the boy child by the overalls before the boy child’s head hits the hard carpeted ground. I tried not to laugh at the child’s tears, but the entire scene was too humorous. I looked around at my fellow passengers to see if I could make eye contact and share the joke but no one looked at me. I settled for a self-satisfied smirk.

C. I exited the Metro, on the way home now, and found myself, as usual, on the sidewalk (after walking a bit). I looked up and saw a shirtless, sweaty man doing pushups on the sidewalk. He was red like Santa Claus’s suit.

Escalating tensions

1 August 2011

After a long day at work involving a trip into Alexandria to meet a volunteer, I am home. I ate Ramen noodles and GF and I watched Sex and the City on E!. Hooray.

If you, dear reader, live in the DC metro area then you know the agony that is Metrorail. Here is my impression of a conversation with Metrorail.

Me- Hello Metrorail. How are you?

Metrorail- That will be $2.20 each way for your trip to work in the morning.

Me- Yikes. That seems steep, but I think it is worth it for such a highly functioning Metro system.

Metrorail- Oh. About that. Actually, If you try to catch me at anytime outside of the 6-9 AM timeframe, then you will be waiting at least 13 minutes for each train, if not 20 minutes or more.

Me- Yeah, but that’s fine for such a cheap price. At least it is a clean and comfortable ride since you have all those signs and strict policies against eating and drinking in the Metrorail system.

Metrorail- Actually, unlike our New York counterpart, we have disgusting carpet and seat cushions that hold non-existent-deity-knows-what in them. At various points, riders have found Ebola, toothpicks, tater tots, king crabs and toxic waste blinding them while heightening all their other senses and giving them radar-like abilities: all within the cushions of our seats.

Me- Ick.

Metrorail- Not to mention all the cars that don’t have air conditioning.

Me- I think I’m leaving now.

Metrorail- Ah. But that is the best of all. You see, at any given point every elevator and escalator in the entire system will be down. In fact, it would be easier to count the number of operational lifts and diagonal people movers.

Me- [No sound except the buzz of radioactive tater tots.]

Escalator repair or Indiana Jones mine adventure?

Into the abyss

The Replacements (Let It Be?)

GF ventures into the unknown.

Safety first. Second? Eighth? Anywhere?

Next stop rejuvenation?

Old news

31 July 2011

I once had an account on Tumblr. I no longer enjoy using that site. Many pardons to everyone, but here are the archived posts from that site. Why rid the world of drivel when I can simply transfer it from one unread internet site to another unread internet site? [Beware: This post is quite lengthy. The author recommends buying a large pizza and eating it while reading to keep up your strength.]

4 April 2011

Today I successfully built my first piece of IKEA furniture. (Well, technically I put together a chair last night, but that was nothing.)

After doing so, it was time to hunker down and try to finish a show I really felt I should complete: Birds of Prey.

Unlike the comic book of which it is a loose adaptation, the television series is appallingly un-watchable.

I know this is probably old news to any of you who have seen Birds of Prey on television about 80 years ago when it was on, but I was not paying attention to the latest programming of the WB (or CW or XFL TV, whichever network had the series). It is in my nerd quest to watch all comic-related movies and television shows that Birds of Prey blipped onto my radar.

I can’t really spend a long post ranting about the show because I don’t want to. I was hoping to watch all the episodes at least, but gave up with about four episodes to go.

I can’t wait to try and make it through Catwoman.

21 March 2011

12:04 a.m.- On Saturday, after a fun evening with JC, GD and Sarah (H? No H?), I took taxi cabs and ran to get to the Arlington Cinema & Drafthouse to sign up to perform in their open-mic stand-up comedy night. I put my name on the list, which was already near capacity, bought a Jameson on the rocks and stood around in the hallway watching the group of comedians standing around being obnoxious and trying to be funny.

Feeling the vibe of people who were sure they were incredibly funny was irritating at best. I want to perform comedy, but I really do dislike most other comedians. Soon, I was reminded why.

Nearly to the person, all 16 performers relied on one of three strategies to fake their way through a stand-up routine: misogyny (if I heard the words “blowjobs” or “bitches” one more time I was going to punch someone), racism (wow, how creative, never heard of the difference between white people and black people before, please go on you wry satirist) and audience interaction (oh, look at these two guys, are you a couple? ha, isn’t that funny that i pointed that out?).

To be fair, I did laugh intermittently. There were funny bits. Bits that had nothing to do with cheap, easy baseline humor.

I did not get to perform, which is maybe for the best as it seems the audience may have not been too happy about my reliance on comic book puns and lack of sexism.

Watching the other comedians and the audience, I have decided to nix my necrolepsy joke from future bits. It’s too easy and makes me uneasy when I get scarce laughs at other jokes, but big laughs at such crass humor.

I can only hope my high standards will help in my Aflac interview.

7 March 2011

7:06 p.m.- GF has a new blog post up today. Who did know it was National Women’s History Month? (I actually did, but mainly because of my years at Planned Parenthood.)

Tonight, while riding the Orange Line home from McPherson Square to Court House and trying to avoid my book bag, elbow or face from touching a stranger, I spied a man (my assumption) wearing things, but, most importantly buttons corresponding to the seven emotions on the emotional spectrum of the Green Lantern universe.

As I mentioned in a previous post, my inner nerd has been revived and emboldened. But, what could I do? I wanted to let my fellow comic aficionado know that I supported him. But I had to Rayner in my desire to shout my fellow fanboyness. If I had my plastic power ring (yes, I have one for each emotion including the newest two, black [death], white [life], red [rage], orange [avarice], blue [hope], violet [love], indigo [compassion], yellow [fear] and green [will]), I would have put it on my finger and wielded it toward my fellow Metro rider to assure him he was in good company.

I did not.

I know that if I was my fellow Metro rider and I did what I wanted to do (but as me and not as the fellow Metro rider anymore), then I would immediately run home (once the train had come to a complete stop and the doors had opened) and discard all my buttons.

I hate stupid rules. People who know me  know this. I hate dress codes and I hate the idea that, as an adult who is nearly 30 years old, I am not “allowed” to drink while walking down the street. GF and I walked to Whole Foods earlier in hopes of finding Girl Scout cookies and beer (my addition). So I waded through the yoga gear-clad boring-ati (I am clearly trying to separate myself from a group of which I am a part, except for the fact that I hate yoga that is), and found Old Speckled Hen. One is not supposed to carry alcohol visibly in Arlington. I promise the clerk I will place the beer in my bag. I do. As soon as I walk outside I remove the beer, open one and wander on my merry way.

I’m such a rebel.

I would also run if I saw a cop approach me. I can only resist authority when I am in control. If authority ever catches up to me I will beg, plead and brand myself with the symbol of the state faster than you can say “Anbesol.”

6 March 2011

4:00 p.m.- This is a day most favorable to my general mien. Ingredients for the recipe:

A steady stream of indie rock, most recently Built to Spill.

Interminably overcast skies with intermittent rain.

Good coffee.

Brunch.

A dark apartment. (Sounds creepier than it is.)

Unfortunately, I have to deal with paying bills today.

Thanks to meeting a fellow, unabashed nerd, I rediscovered a middle school love that should have never been forgotten or brushed aside: fantasy novels.

In middle school, I read all of the Dragonlance novels I could obtain. Due in large part to a long-term relationship in which the driving theme was me growing up (which involved wearing clothes primarily purchased from the Gap, making fewer jokes, being slapped on Valentine’s Day, smoking and trying not to “act so gay,” as my girlfriend put it), I hid my love for fantasy and my innate and undying nerdliness.

Now, I have found a friend carrying a copy of Fray in her purse.

So today, I purchased the first Wheel of Time book, a Star Wars novel and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Release the nerd hounds!

27 February 2011

9:30 p.m.- I don’t actually like writing down what I eat. It seems to take the fun out of the entire thing.

Earlier today, while GF was at work, I recorded Episode Six of The Joseph Richards Show, my monthly podcast. This episode marked the halfway point, as my goal was to record one show every month for a year.

Right now, GF and I are at our separate computers, me listening to The Brian Seltzer Orchestra’s “Songs from Lonely Avenue,” and she watching some video that is making her chuckle intermittently.

She worked at Barnes & Noble for a few hours today, so I sat around, played some video games, recorded the podcast, cleaned and finished reading An Object of Beauty by Steve Martin.

Before going to walk her home from work, I placed frozen lasagna into the pre-heated oven to bake. We returned home and the apartment was not burned to a cinder. Today was successful.

25 February 2011

8:08 p.m.- What I ate and bought today.

Purchases

One mug refill coffee at Caribou Coffee- $1.37

Pizza Hut Veggie Lover’s pizza, breadsticks and hot wings- $24 (GF and I waited over an hour for the delivery person to deliver the food to our apartment and all we got was a $10 coupon.)

10:24 a.m.- One cranberry muffin

11:25 a.m.- Finish 1000 mL water

11:30 a.m.- One turkey sandwich with red hoop cheese on white bread

2:10 p.m.- One turkey sandwich with red hoop cheese on white bread and one 12 oz aluminum can of Pepsi cola

3:07 p.m.- Finish 1000 mL water

4:47 p.m.- One Luna bar (Nutz Over Chocolate)

5:40 p.m.- One Raffaello

7:30 p.m.- Tostito’s Hint of Lime chips with salsa

24 February 2011

10:05 p.m.

Today I kept track of my purchases and intake again.

Purchases

One mug refill of coffee at Caribou Coffee– $1.37 (with trivia* discount)

One Boston Creme and one Devil’s Food cupcake from Crumbs– $8.18 (pictures forthcoming)

Food and drink

7:36 a.m.- One bowl Honey Bunches of Oats (with strawberries) with soy milk. Two pieces cheese toast (white bread and red hoop cheese)

11:28 a.m.- One previously-frozen fish stick

11:29 a.m.- Finish 1000 mL of water

12:48 p.m.- One turkey sandwich on white bread

2:49 p.m.- One peanut butter (crunchy) and Nutella sandwich on white bread

4:10 p.m.- One 12 oz aluminum can of Pepsi cola

6:34 p.m.- 1/2 can Hormel chili and Club crackers

7:14 p.m.- One previously-frozen fish filet. 1/2 can Hormel chili. Some sort ofPringles with intense artwork canister. Club crackers.

I also finished re-watching the third season of Arrested Development and watched on episode of  Important Things with Demetri Martin.

*Not a trivial discount

23 February 2011

Today I wrote what I bought and what I ate.

Purchases

One refill of coffee (in mug) from Caribou [$1.47]

One six pack of Newcastle plus thank you cards with intense Disney teens popping out of the front [$14.15]

Food

10:05 a.m.- Nine strawberries

11:47 a.m.- Turkey sandwich on white bread

12:00 p.m.- Finish 1000 mL of water

1:30 p.m.- One bowl noodle soup (Nong Shim): Hot & Spicy Flavor

4:47 p.m.- One peanut butter (crunchy) and Nutella sandwich on white bread

5:51 p.m.- One peanut butter (crunchy) and Nutella sandwich on white bread

6:17 p.m.- Finish 1000 mL of water

7:30 p.m.- Two uncooked angel hair pasta noodles

7:45 p.m.- Two spring time Oreos (yellow filling)

8:11 p.m.- Two small fish filets, peas and carrots, spaghetti with Ragu, two pieces garlic toast (buttered with garlic salt and basil) and one Newcastle

9:57 p.m.- One Rafaello and one Ferrero Rocher

11:08 p.m.- One spring time Oreo (yellow filling)

So. Let’s see how the poo looks tomorrow morning.

10 February 2011

8:03 a.m.- Listening to The Like’s “Wishing He Was Dead,” and thinking about getting ready for work. Before doing so, however, a couple quick updates.

People in the Barton House have been incredibly generous since we moved in to the building. They know we moved with no furniture, so they have been consistently sending things our way. The recent additions are a wooden kitchen table, nice couch, lamp, skillet, nightstand and (the best part of all) a 32-inch television! [Pictures coming soon.]

While making the apartment a bit more comfortable, GF has been busy at work. As you may know, she has been interning with the National Women’s Health Network. Recently she posted her first blog as part of the group. In this piece, which discusses vasectomy and the choice not to have children, she finally changes my moniker from “the boy” to “the boyfriend.” A step up?

10:12 p.m.- Today I went to a luncheon for work and had a chance to meet Felicity Huffman and William H. Macy. I knew I wanted to get their autographs for GF, but I was afraid someone from work would hassle me for hassling the guests. So I waited until work people moved away and asked Ms. Huffman and Mr. Macy for their autographs. [Picture to come.] They were incredibly gracious and friendly and managed not to have me thrown out of the event.

Later in the program, the two of them went on stage and sang a song about reproductive freedoms, rhyming lines with “fallopian tubes” and “uterus,” (PDF) as Mr. Macy played ukulele. [See the video online.]

While at the event, I chatted with one of the men behind serving drinks to guests. He reminded me of my uncle Homer. He had slicked back grey hair and a grey mustache. He was actually from DC, which seems rare. He was called Winfield, and called me either “bub” or “bud” as we parted ways.

GF and I headed back to the apartment after work so she could go to work at Barnes & Noble, and I could participant in a conference call for work, call my credit card company, make a doctor’s appointment, call my mom and play Lego Star Wars while listening to American Football (S/T).

As we walked from Metro to Five Guys Burger and Fries for a quick bite to eat, I was reminded of how I frequently eschew confrontation, especially with corporations. There was an error with my credit card payment, and I was willing to just be sad about it and let it exist. I am any company’s favorite customer, because they could charge me $600 for one hour of cable and I would just accept whatever fee they threw at me. I believe I singlehandedly keep both Comcast and CitiCards in business.

I did end up calling CitiCards and having them refund one of my duplicate payments. Success. I can die happy. (But still in debt.)

8 February 2011

4:49 p.m.- I am sitting in Denny’s in Chester, Virginia grabbing a quick bite to eat (The All-American Slam with hashbrowns and white toast) before heading into Petersburg, Virginia for work.

Earlier, I went to start Memaw’s 1987 Buick Park Avenue to make the journey (and take GF to the Metro) and found the battery was dead. I made a quick run upstairs, reserved a Prius through Zipcar, and headed out.

Along the way I stopped at a Target somewhere near Fredericksburg, Virginia and purchased a Sade album (to take full advantage of having a compact disc player rather than just an antenna that barely picks up lint, let alone radio stations) and a cup of coffee in a disposable cup.

Now let me illustrate how insane I am.

As I was passing someone on the road, I took a sip of coffee, looked to the side and instinctively held the coffee cup down near my leg, as I was afraid the other driver would look at me and think of me as a hypocrite for driving a Prius while drinking coffee from a cup destined for a landfill.

Now I not only have to deal with other drivers judging my purchasing habits, but I am still haunted by the fact that, while GF went up for an autograph and picture, I did not tell Larry Miller about my podcast, even after he mentioned his podcast giving me an obvious in.

I am terribly intimidated by meeting any performer after the show. What could I possibly say to them? Oh well. Maybe I’ll send him an email. Or maybe he’ll read this and take pity on me and at least send me a green corduroy suit to match the one he was wearing when GF and I saw him at the DC Improv this past weekend.

30 January 2011

11:01 a.m.- Ended up staying in last night. Was too tired and ornery from the previous week to go out and be social.

The power in our apartment building (and a building across the street) went out during the evening. We found a candle and I finished a can of some weird Chef Boyardee item. (I am pretty sure I saw English alphabet letters.)

1:19 p.m.- We are working on finally putting posters, calendars, maps and the like on our plain, white walls (not the ones on the tires). For the birth of our lord and savior (not Willem Dafoe), my mom gave me DC Comics: The 75th Anniversary Poster Book. The posters in the book come perforated, making it easy for a fanboy such as myself to tear them out and hang them on the wall.

Now, of course, when a fanboy seeks the love of a real person, that fanboy has to compromise on abode decor. So, I present to you pictures of the top posters we will select as wall hangings with which we can both live. Let me know your top picks.

29 January 2011

5:58 p.m.- Sitting around the apartment all day today doing nothing. I cooked an entire pack of bacon this morning and ate most of it. (I believe we had four pieces remaining.)

My friend JC is turning 30 today and will be out at Madam’s Organ in Adams Morgan. I will attend and then try to stumble across the street to the DC Arts Centerin attempt to see an improv and stand-up comedy show featuring my improv teacher, Shawn.

This morning, besides cooking an entire packet of porcine flesh, involved me discussing how Jesus would have survived an abortion attempt. If he was truly the son of God, he easily could have made it and parted the vaginal lips like the Red Sea, making his triumphant and heroic entry into the world.

Hell should be fun.

22 January 2011

10:31 a.m.- Last night, we participated in Hot Tub Happy Hour with a couple new friends. The food was amazing.

  • Asparagus cooked in a tin hat (or vegetable steamer)
  • Broiled salmon stuffed with crab dip
  • Salad
  • Pasta with cream sauce
  • Beer, wine and sparkling wine
  • Cookies that tasted like brownies

When I left Georgia, I left behind a strong friend base. I managed to secure a few new friends in Colorado during graduate school, but then moved again to Utah. In Utah, over the past four years, I created a solid group of friends I could call upon for dancing, going out to eat, watching me try stand-up comedy or even just drinking and listening to Christian punk music while standing on the balcony of the Piaza.

I like watching the process of creating such a group in a new city.

I am hungry.

3:33 p.m.- I got a haircut from a woman called Katie. (I am not sure how she spells her name.) She is 25, and will turn 26 the day of the Super Bowl. She has a husband and five kids (including three stepdaughters, two of whom are divas). She knew exactly how I wanted my hair cut. Perfect.

I recorded a comedy bit just under nine minutes to submit to DC Improv.

Let’s see what happens.

6:01 p.m.- Bought a bunch of compact discs earlier:

Pink Floyd- The Wall

The Beatles- Abbey Road

The Beatles- Let It Be… Naked

Sinead O’Connor- I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got

American Football- s/t

David Bowie- Hunky Dory

The Cranberries- Bury The Hatchet (Japanese Import)

Manic Street Preachers- Know Your Enemy

Nirvana- Unplugged in New York

Nirvana- Nevermind (Yes, it took me nearly 20 years to buy this album.)

No Doubt- Return of Saturn

After purchasing cds and downing two pints of Guinness at Kitty O’Shea’s while watching Manchester City lose to Aston Villa, I came home and ate a Totino’s pizza and watched Arrested Development. So far, a pretty good day. My weekends are special.

17 January 2011

9:45 a.m.-Last night, GF and I watched my first ever episode of Pushing Daisies. Nice and quirky. I liked it. A few month’s ago I picked up Kristin Chenoweth’s memoir and did not like it. It felt overly superficial and egotistical. However, after watching her in Pushing Daisies, I’m warming up to her. I’ve decided to take the bubbly superficiality with a grain of salt. Actually, now it is rather endearing.

Today is both the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday and my mom’s birthday. When I was home in December, she saw Avatar was on HBO and was disappointed she did not have VHS tape ready to record it. (Yes, my mom still has a VCR. She records programs she likes the old-fashioned way. By sitting in front of the television with a piece of charcoal and canvass and sketching every scene as fast as she can. Just kidding. She uses a VCR.) So, I bought her the Avatar DVD for her birthday. (Well, not THE Avatar DVD. I’m sure the one I purchased is only a copy and not the definitive disc.) The present has not arrived yet. Another gift-giving failure.

Tonight, I have my second improv class. Zip. Zap. Zop.

11:15 a.m.-I pour coffee into the coffee pot before placing a filter in said coffee pot.

10:27 p.m.- Second improv class tonight. Great time! I can feel my mind get looser. (No, I did not get hit in the head.)

11:03 p.m.-Rogue pepperoni.

Earlier today, I realized GF and I were walking around the apartment, doing various things while The Disney Channel played in the background. She has too much influence over the apartment.

16 January 2011

Today, I have been absolutely lazy. I walked GF to work at 1 p.m., made my way through the insanity of Whole Foods, purchased a bag of Route 11 potato chips and the latest Vogue with Natalie Portman on the cover and walked back home.

I have been sitting around playing Batman: The Brave and The Bold for the Wii and watching Arrested Development.

I have some laundry going. Perhaps I’ll clean the kitchen before GF gets off work.

I need coffee.

11:14 p.m.- I set up our new router and learn how to stream Netflix through the Wii. This is the greatest day of the past week.

15 January 2011

Earlier today, GF and I went to see Black Swan. I feel a bit bad for GF, but I walked around in a speechless daze afterward, soaking in what I had just seen. Movies don’t usually move me so viscerally, but this film was an exception. I cannot think of one moment I did not enjoy (even if I was recoiling or hiding in the hood of my jacket fearful of the danger the camera had not yet seen).

Danger: Inexperienced college boys ahead.

Danger: Inexperienced college boys ahead.

At least one of us will be able to write.

At least one of us will be able to write.

Got stuck doing a carton wheel.

Got stuck doing a carton wheel.

Two rascals.

Two rascals. (Note: One is my Memaw. Guess which one.)

Thank you for your comprehension indeed.

Thank you for your comprehension indeed.

I think I remember this company.

I think I remember this company.

Hello to the Hulk.

Hello to the Hulk.

Principal Snyder and I share a moment. A mayor-turned-snake ate one of us immediately after this picture.

Principal Snyder and I share a moment. A mayor-turned-snake ate one of us immediately after this picture.

Coffee Sandwiches. Made with grounds beef. My heart Sanka when I read this.
[Sorry for the commentary. I have no filter.]

Coffee Sandwiches. Made with grounds beef. My heart Sanka when I read this.

[Sorry for the commentary. I have no filter.]

Schindler’s Lift.

Schindler’s Lift.

Imagine the poor sap who must ashamedly brew Folger’s.

Imagine the poor sap who must ashamedly brew Folger’s.

For five seconds I told the button others would treat it differently its whole life. Then the door opened.
For five seconds I told the button others would treat it differently its whole life. Then the door opened.
Climbing the corporate ladder.

Climbing the corporate ladder.