August 13th, 2003


wad. of. gum.

That's me. A wad of chewed-up, stiffening gum hiding out on the underside of a chair where it's cool and no one can see me. Also? My brain is about the size of that gum today. No span of le attention. At all.

I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay.

Buffy: "You're going to be a what?"

Angel: "A lumberjack."

Buffy: "Is this some ancient Irish dream I didn't know you had?"

Angel: "I need a career change. But I still get to carry an ax."

Buffy: "But what about fighting evil? You're a champion, Angel. A lot of people count on you. Plus, don't forget, there's that whole prophecy thing."

Angel: "Apparently 'shanshu' can also mean, 'to chop wood'."

Buffy: "And you still have faith in Wesley's translations?"

Angel: "A new edition of the Proto-Bantu dictionary came out. Threw a lot of prophecies out of whack. By the way, you might not want to leave the house next Thursday. Something about rain, eels. I didn't catch all the details--"

Buffy: "Angel! Focus. What do you even *know* about lumberjacking? You've never even studied...trees."

Angel: "I contemplated a fir once."

Buffy: "And now you want to chop its harmless neck."

Angel: "Not all trees are harmless. I've met some biters."

Buffy: "You realize they're going to make you wear plaid? I'm pretty sure that's obligatory."

Angel: "Plaid? That's...disturbing. No one told me that."

Buffy: "And denim. Lots of denim. Oh, and boots! With cleats."

Angel, pensively: "This is starting to sound kind of gay."

Buffy: "Right, and fighting evil, so *not* gay. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that. Except you, not gay. ... Right?"

Angel: "Not recently. Of course, Cordelia once had this idea to outfit us all in spandex. Tights. Capes."

Buffy: "Mental image."

Angel: "Yellow."

Buffy: "Bad mental image. How'd you talk her out of it?"

Angel: "Gunn shot her. It was just a Nerf gun, but--"

Buffy: "Angel, please tell me you're not going to lumber off and jack up trees and--and wear plaid and live off squirrel's blood!"

Angel: "I guess I could rethink the career change."

Buffy: "Thank you."

Angel, musing: "I mean, there's always lion-taming."

and taxes

I am finally facing my taxes. I can literally feel the descent of thick, honeyed sadness through my body, a wash of almost overwhelming despair, as I struggle through the tiny tasks involved with filling out a FUCKING 1040EZ FORM. Assuming that I don't want to report the interest on my student loan, which would be to my benefit. I would list the points which complicate what should be a simple operation, but it's too tedious. Oh, and the IRS is still telling me I haven't filed my 2001 taxes, though I've submitted them twice now. I am ignoring them. At my peril.

I'm rendered almost paralyzed by the mundane details of existing. I have to go home now.

Today walking back to the office from lunch I took a shortcut through perfect, atmospheric alleys, brick paving underfoot showing through the uneven patches where layers of surface had peeled away, creating a strange jigsaw of bricks and stone and rain puddles. And on either side of the wide alley rose big, old-fashioned brick buildings with arched windows, hung with fire escapes. The kind of dockland buildings that probably used to be inhabited by export offices and port authorities.

In Pioneer Square I saw, one after the other, a crow, a gull, and a pigeon. In the space of an hour there was grey mushroom soup and blue tile roofs and a woman with long white hair.

when worlds gently bump

So, I bought duped tapes of the first three seasons of MST3K, which were recorded from Comedy Central, and on some of them, there are promos left in. During the showing of Gammera, they bookended commercials with a bunch of trivia facts. One of them is:
Famous Fan Feedback: Nathan Fillion who plays Joey Buchanan on ABC's One Life to Live says there is but one show to watch: MST3K.
He's yummy *and* he's an MST3K fan. I want need to marry him, dear reader.

qaf episode titles

It's a limp and simple page, but it's purple.

I came home early intending to do laundry and to perhaps write, and it is now 8:19, which is not so early any longer. Of course, if I ever make it off the couch I may actually do those things. If I ever... make it off... this sinking ice floe couch...

Hey, I made a page. Lay off. (I'm talking to the evil little bird in my head, not you.)

I watched the last half of "Love Has Many Faces" tonight and the very end is that scene where Brian goes in the back room and finds Justin fucking some guy, and he just leans against the wall and lets someone give him a blow job but he can't stop staring at Justin. His eyes turn to him, then away, then back, then away. And finally he looks off as if he's resolved not to look again...and little by little his gaze creeps back.

All during this, Justin is just staring brazenly at Brian, jack-hammering his dick into his trick's ass and obviously thinking of...yeah.

Love love love.