Canned

Since I have not heard back about THE email I fear she was fired because of it.

watch my conscience disappear, now baby

This morning, of all mornings, I decided to send Chloe a slightly naughty, kinda dirty (British definition of), sorta sexy, maybe funny, totally inappropriate email. I never do this but today it seemed like a good idea. What came over me, I don't know though I suspect hormones and a well rested mind. OR maybe it's that Chloe is mega-grrrrlicious. Damn...

I woke up this morning with the urge

to play skeeball. Weird huh?

Gleaming the queue

OKAY! Chloe and I decided to sign up for Netflix because she wants to cut back on expense and rid herself of cable. Now, we don’t watch that much TV but Chloe loves HBO shows like Six Feet Under and the Sopranos. I don’t watch much TV and never really have. Sometimes it takes a lot to get me to sit through a show. Actually I am quite funny in conversation concerning telly because I literally don’t know anything about current programming outside of Talk Sex, that dating show, and PBS, though I think I can hold my own with Six Feet Under. Thanks Chloe! :-) As a result, I mostly fake it.

“Ha ha ha. That Raymond thing reminds me of the time Jack Tripper woke up in the bathtub with a tattoo.”

Get the point?

Netflix seems to be a logical and less expensive replacement for cable. We still have our lazing-on-the-couch-and-relaxing-while-I-play-with-Chloe’s-hair activity but instead we watch movies, BBC shows, and PBS documentaries without late fees. Here is my issue. I can’t stop picking movies. My dirty secret is that somewhere inside me is a huge movie buff waiting to make a debut. Through my life I have limited my interests mainly to music because I can be social and active and still be a music geek. Movie geekdom is a little more solitary with lots of shushing and many hours spent on the couch. I don’t know if I can be that guy. I know I mean not to but I have found myself staring at our movie queue at lunch wondering if there is anything else I want to see. Without fail I add two movies everyday. In fact today, it occurred to me that I should see the entire Antonionian oeuvre. I feel bad because Chloe’s input is being overwhelmed by my obsession. So now, as a result, I am looking for movies that might interest her also. This is making the list grow exponentially. This is like my personal big bang of movie geekhood. My movie universe is expanding into nothingness with no contraction in site. I wonder if there are support groups for this. I may need one soon.

PS YES! Sex and Lucia ships today! Oooooh and next up is Mr Jealousy! Ooooooh and they have good dub versions of Bergman movies.

PS Send help.

On music

I added a link to Rjd2's site. He is giga-dope. If you have a chance check him out. Hiphoptimist madness!

RESULT!

I woke up and got to work late but before eight. Take that bed!
Chloe (my honey) was also on time. Team Wake UP! is rocking this morn!

Oversleeping

I used to be one of those people who could always make it to work, school, weddings, the dentist, and even the proctologist (oh the fear, oh the misdiagnosis, oh the no reason for going) on time. Now, as I have gotten longer in the tooth, I have lost that ability. A coworker (or bastard) reminded me today that I have not been at work before eight AM in months, less the one time I came in at two in the morning. I blame Ireland and their craptastic time zone for that one. Anyway, I kind of got defensive and said,

"Uh, I was here yesterday at half-seven so there!"

though I think I came in at ten after eight. Soooo lame. Anyway, one might think that I go to sleep too late. I don't. One might think I am avoiding work. As much as I would like too I am not. Damn foolish work ethic. One might think that my beautiful late sleeper is influencing me but she is not. You know what I think? I THINK IT IS THE UBER-COMFORTABLE, SUPER ADDICTIVE, IF IT WERE POWDER IT WOULD BE ILLEGAL, BED WE SLEEP ON! THAT’S WHAT! I may have to sleep on the floor to make my seven AM “embedded video” meeting tomorrow. Why do the fates hate me so?

Let your hips do the talking. I'll make you laugh by acting like the guy who sings. You'll make me smile by really getting into the swing.

Until about a year ago I went dancing at least once a week. I miss it. What happened? I'm blaming old age.

Bye bye squeaky goodbye!

The door squeak has been remedied...for now. Sanity has returned to my corner of cubeland.

Work promos

I was given a badge that promotes my company today. Why? Like I would wear it outside of work. I would not even wear it in work. What kind of nerdbomb would do that?

This is how I feel

Flowers

Chloe bought me flowers yesterday. I told her once that nobody buys men flowers but some of us really like getting flowers. As a result, she suprises me with them every once in a while.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!

I love it. Anyway, instead of bringing them to work, I forgot them at home. It sucked but then a wee sweetie name Chloe dropped them off at my work. Awwwwwwwwwww!

Update:

The door still squeaks and maddness is mounting. I have some mustard I may try to lube the hinges with. Dijon, do your all!

Tip Toe

How long do you think I can survive being at work, in a cube, five feet from a squeaky door? How long? I'm wagering 10 days before spontaneously combusting or starting a neverending nervous laugh. My eyes are already bloodshot and I just now discovered that I have a nervous twitch. It has been five hours so far.

What I have been thinking about while "pecking away my best years."

• Why are silverfish not silver and why are they universally terrifying?
• Why are organic vegetables more expensive than inorganic ones? I know there is the supply factor but should I not get a "hidden bug " discount?
• Why does the name Regina still make me giggle?
• Being male there is something I have seen a lot and never understood. Why do sober men piss on the floor and on the wall of the bathroom at work? I mean drunk I can understand. There might be a compelling reason, but sober? Are you trying to make the Ural Sea? Get it?
• Why is Chloe not allowed to come to my work and goof off with me?
• Where is the check that Mike gave me to cash?
• Why is my small finger called a pinky? Mine is more brown. And brownie is not a good name for a finger.
• Do you refer to a refrigerator tycoon as a refrigerator magnate and how do you end the confusion?
• Why when I said I was going to Rosh Hashanah service did everyone ask me "Why?" The same thing happens to me on other religious holidays like last year at Easter. I mean I am a heathen but come on! This must all stem from the acolyte incident of 2002 and the pew incident the following year.
• Why am I still blogging? WORK BOY WORK!

What is belief made of? Is it like forgetting?

So I am really lucky. I’m lucky to have a pretty stable life with lots of freaks I call friends, a healthy interest in music, a giga-Bonnie in Chloe, and a very supportive family. The only real concern at the moment rests around future finances. See, Chloe and I want to have a family in the coming years. We are not talking about one the size of a football practice squad but two or three kids who we can mold into peace mongers interested in social justice, gardening, and northern soul. It is a definite plan but the problem is figuring out how we will pay for ourselves plus 3 others, who, if they are anything like us, will have pricey interests. I've had this problem lately of painting this picture on our current incomes, which does not end up being a Bruegel (Elder or Younger...Does it matter?) but more of a Keith Richards (yes he paints). I need to change my mindset! Or get some painting lessons.

I wonder if I'm the -est anything.

This is strange. I know this is odd but the first thing I thought is that you could put him in a hamster ball and actually command the ball.

Bad Times

You know it is a bad day at work when a co-worker exclaims,

"I suddenly see the rational behind chewing your own ears off!"

Dreams of Beans

So about three years ago a friend gave me a book to help understand the meaning of my vivid dreams. I consulted it quite a bit and realized that it was a load of crap. I mean, having a dirty dream involving sex on a dining room table does not mean fear and trouble at home. Come on. It means that in my dream state I am to lazy to make it to the bed for sex. Anyway, my dreams have become more or less mundane. I will use last night as an example.

Last night my dream was me tagging along with Chloe on her most hated chore, grocery shopping.

A bit of background. Chloe and I have a fantastic arrangement. I cook dinner nearly every weeknight and do a majority of the grocery shopping. In return, she manages the laundry and ironing, which on my list of many things is one above dying in an inferno. I love cooking and think I am okay at it. Chloe does not complain about what I make so I think I’m doing okay. I like food a lot actually. One could say I am a foodie but I would not like that loudmouth person.

Last night I was fixated on getting some fish. Apparently I decided we were eating more than our share of chicken and we were obligated to switch to fish. At the store I got a great deal on “Mediterranean Cod,” for $2.50 a pound. Immediately after my fish find I ran up to Chloe to show her and she looked all but interested in my thrifty purchase. I also happened upon HUGE haricot vert (green beans y’all) for 60 cents a pound. Again Chloe was not very amazed. The dream went on like that forever, with more and more deals. What has happened to me? Age, I tell ya!

Ear beads

I currently have earbeads. This is because I love accupuncture! It helps with not smoking. The problem with my 8 earbeads is that my ears look like I had a ear shaving accident. Do not picture wooley ears. It is upsetting. I do not have wooley ears. I was at a car lot today and the salesman kept on staring at my ears. Now my ears know what being famous is like, with people tracking your every movement.

The break is not going so well for me. I am bored so I write.

Expert Timing - A small break from a break

Okay Labor Day is over and I want my Mondays off from now on. I get pissed about this every year. It is about time someone listened to me.

GIVE OUR MONDAYS BACK OR YOU FASCISTS WILL BE ATTACKED!

THIS IS WHAT A THREE DAY WEEKEND LOOKS LIKE!

HEY HEY HO HO THE 7 DAY WORKWEEK HAS GOT TO GO!
HO HO HE HE LET'S MAKE THE WEEKEND THREE!

So to whom (I used a dying word, oh yes I did) do I write about this? The unions got us monday off and we gave them back. Well I plan to get Monday back for us! WHO IS WITH ME?!? I know Billy Bragg is but I need Americans. Brits bring credibility though. Barbers and Bakers need not apply. They still have Monday off. Lucky Bastards. Maybe it would just be easier to not protest and become a barber or a baker. Hmmmm. I am too lazy to put up a fight and I do like free haircuts and bakery!

BREAK!

Dear readers,

Chloe and I have decided to take a break from the illustrious blog. We will instead go back to paper to keep a record of our days. You may ask why we want to do this and the answer is simple. Because we do these logs to keep history, not only for ourselves but for our future generations, there needs to be a bit of permanence and exclusivity to our meanderings and experiences. Though the blog is beautiful technology, it is not as honest nor sublime as a paper log or diary. For my own interest I am not as expressive when my thoughts are on the web. It's not a fear of publicizing my ideas but it is more a need for intellectual intimacy, writings for a select audience. The other concern for me is that the collaboration between Chloe and I is lessened on the blog so the beauty of our relationship does not show, which is a very sad thing.

Malcolm

All Saints DAY!

So every day I wait until 4:30, 5:00, or 6:00 PM to head out of work. Usually this is in a burst of excitement because I hate work. Now I'm not going to complain about working. I mean something that I will do for the rest of my life, with no end in sight, is not something to complain about. No. No way.

Well today was our department outing to a minor league baseball game. Great idea for an outing! Some history. I played baseball in my youth and liked it very much. I was a varsity center fielder and quite an accomplished batter. The one thing that I never understood is why playing baseball was so enjoyable and watching baseball was so...BANAL! Also why would I want to hang out with my co-workers outside of work? I mean I rush out of work everyday to get away from them. I left early to go back to work and get shit done. I was given a lot of sad looks, with what I understood to mean, "Don't you want to hang out with us? It is so much fun here." My looks back were "No. And this is anything but fun, you sun spotted, fly bitten freaks!" UGH!

Chloe is also at her work picnic. Pray for our souls. Actually she may be having fun. I hope so!