fell asleep with the winamp going, and my dreams changed with each track …

in the dream guided by seb fontaine’s cream ibiza: departures set, i was in a summer house with a bunch of bad people. one of them got so incensed that i left my laundry in the dryer too long that she wrote on all of it in paint, then threw it around my bedroom. i’m pretty sure i killed her. nobody messes with my wardrobe and lives.

later, i was preparing a lab for opening the night after some birthday party had been held there. streamers were all over the place, there were empty cans and plastic cups everywhere, and it was so very messy. i was stressed out by it all, not to mention the fact that my supervisor was shadowing me that day. i got it done, opened the lab … then i heard a ministry track blasting from another room, and went to investigate.

it looked like the party had just up and moved to another lab. the entire two back rows were filled with people drinking from ‘bocker glassware and carrying on. someone had pulled the audio extender cables out of a few PCs, and now meat beat manifesto’s ‘psyche-out’ was blaring at high volume. one guy had a plastic beer mug, much like the ones from thursday nights at the neon cactus, except this one could hold, oh, two or three gallons of bad keg brew. all the mayhem put me in a i-am-going-to-scorch-you-with-kindness-and-disdain mood, and i started throwing people out left and right. the LA stood by in shock. i almost grilled him about not calling anyone about the disruption, but then i saw the cup of beer on his desk, stopped myself before i asked a stupid question, and threw him out too. everyone gone, i swiped the large mug, locked the lab up, and left the mess for the next shift.

on the way out, i ran into nathan. ‘here, want a mug?’ i said, and tossed it to him.

the last one i remember, set to enigma’s ‘sadeness, part one,’ was entirely webpages/webcam images of my pal dadaist’s vacation. he had met someone online, went out to visit her, and sent me the URL of his sabbatical website. you just have to love high quality image resolution. but why australia?

right, i’m going to the mall now, and none of you can stop me.

after eight days of surrendering, i needed a nap. my arms feel like tracers are attached to them.

i stumbled into picking up a bookstore shift yesterday; it meant i had to be there at 9.00 this morning. i knew i was going to wake up ricidulously early anyway … but 4.30? sleepysleepy for most of the day.

some fairly well-scrubbed guy bought a copy of the robb report; he looked like he fit the target demographic of the publication, considering his label-conscious clothing, his land cruiser parked outside,etc. but when he pulled out his wallet, i was appalled to discover that it was a battered blue nylon velcro contraption. i felt like buying him a wallet made of fine corinthian leather just to keep up his facade.

i was also reminded of one the reasons i left that job: creepy guys reading pr0n at all hours of the day isn’t a turn-on, oh no.not to say that everyone who flips through the ‘sophisticates’ there is creepy. all sorts of american males buy pr0n. it’s one of the things that makes america great. but i try not to be hanging about that section when people walk in. except for today … i wanted to test out a theory. if some guy saw me in that section, would they be more likely to ask about some random pr0n title later?

i was straighening up the playboy titles when some 20something guy walked in, and i stood my ground, kept
lining up all the wayward celebrity sleuths and playboy’s barefoot babes or whatever it’s called … and surprise surprise his curiousity was drawn to the top shelf titles.finishing up the shelf, i went back to the counter, and waited. time passed. i rang a few customers up.

eventually, he came up to the counter and asked if we carried a title by the name of panties.

unbelieveably, i actually knew the title he was talking about … and it looked like it was between issues, so i told him we were out of it, but spaced telling him to check back on wednesday. my bad.

there. no more downbeat for awhile.

i’m giddy because i had a rare audience with the smitty tonight. oh, my. middle aged men in sweaters and ties after midnight rock my world. when i grow up, i want a middle aged man in a sweater and tie. why didn’t i ask santa to bring me one for xmas? grrrrrrrrr.

it’s all in my head she read in her girlfriend’s self-help book
it’s all his own making a war with himself
like two sides of a wall that separates two countries
he shuts out the world and wants only to love you

the #1-with-a-bullet entry on the top ten emotional states of 2000 shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who picked up a copy of the purdue exponent literary edition this semester.

number one: dissonant

definition #2 of ‘dissonant’ in the oxford english dictionary reads out of agreement, accordance, or harmony, in any respect; disagreeing, incongruous, discordant, at variance, different … and if that didn’t nail my worldview in the Y2K, i don’t know what word would.

the list of issues i was of two minds on? endless. work school !work !school … too many to go into here.

there’s no feeling more distressing than seeing ground rules embraced in the waning days of summer disintegrate, all for a few shining stealth moments of happiness and light, and a chance to see those stunning blue eyes just a few feet away.

there’s no feeling more abysmal than casting off all the bitches, hos and tricks, making the dollars for your own self … then wondering if it was really a good idea in the first place.

there’s no feeling more maddening than rolling up on the party juuuuuuuuuuuust a bit too late, and realizing the door was left open.

there’s no feeling more saddening than seeing the gulf between yourself and the rest of the world stretch and twist and turn and occasionally not be sorry that it was happening.

there’s no feeling more frightening than not having the faintest idea what the next year will bring, then actually looking forward to it.

if i’ve learned anything from this year, it’s to be fluid, to make course corrections on the fly, to make a concerted effort to edit out the noise, and search for more signal, because you will never ever know what the next day will bring. conflicted or no, i should be there for it.

peak times for this behavior? a snowy night in early february, an ever-too-bright morning in early august … and everything after.
positive or negative? what the hell do you think?

the leftover manic panic pillarbox red creme was dumped on my light turquoise hair last night. the resulting shade, oddly enough, matched my manic panic tramp lipstick — a deep magentaish purple, with enough black to make it interesting. not bad.

i’ve had my hair various shades of blue & purple for well over a year now. i can’t even remember the last time it was my natural color.