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Stackmatic!

You should change your name to Laugh-O-Matic!

Ha ha ha!

(You're obviously not as funny as me, but who is?)

A very special person I've been corresponding with in the States probably now thinks I'm an asshole.

I was expecting this to be the case a few days ago when I sent her a blow by blow account of some major occurences in my life, some of which really aren't very nice. But lo and behold, it transpires that she would still like to talk to me.

In return for my sending her this piece of writing she sent me a deeply personal work of art drawn from her own experiences. I am deeply honoured and don't want to belittle this by trying to talk where there's no need.

Most of my internet usage takes place at work, but on various computers. If I am not at my own desk but on the Library Service Counter or the Enquiry Desk I have to load up a web-based version of my email account rather than the solid version of it that's in my desk machine. The records of contacts, like the record of favourite websites, changes with each machine depending on what you've done there and depending on what you've deleted etc. On the machine I tried to mail her from yesterday, a woman with the same first name as her but who I haven't spoken to for over a year was in the contacts. She received some emails that were destined for my American correspondent. Instead of telling me that she had no idea what I was talking about, she just sent me some "uh, like, whatever" replies. So I didn't know. To be honest, my fumbling attempts to say something about the first lady's work were so pathetic that I'd have rather the second lady got them. How can you email someone a respectful silence? Well, there are ways I'm sure, but I couldn't think of them yesterday. So, I don't know who got what and which replies I got were from whom, because I've deleted the ones from my desk machine and the ones on the other desk delete themselves when you log off. The second lady finally asked me if I knew who she was this afternoon, and I thought at first it was the first lady losing her mind.

So now I'm about to go home and wonder what the hell my American friend is thinking. I'm not on the net at home so I'll be a-wondering tonight. Hoping she understands.

But I've got her art with me; I'm keeping it with me and taking it home.

In the morning I took my tiny kids to the local nature reserve. It was very windy so we spent a significant amount of time throwing dry leaves into the air and watching them alter course.

A good day.

I've been trying to really swim again.

I used to be on the swim team as a junior and senior in high school, when I was in much better shape. It has been a humbling experience to realize just how out of shape I was (and still am). When I first tried to get back into it, I could barely even swim 100 yards continuous without stopping for extra breath.

I looked around on The Internets for ideas on some reasonable goals, so as to have some incentive to push myself a little bit. Here is the plan I found: "ZERO to 1650 in Six Weeks".

I am nearing the end of week 4 of this plan, and today was the first day of this week that I could do the whole routine without really cheating (i.e. taking extra rest between). I'm starting to feel more confident that I can get through the whole six weeks now.

It's a good feeling.

This morning I ate a strawberry paczki for breakfast. I have spent the remainder of the day periodically pondering why this pastry's name is pronounced "POONCH-key."

Mmm...Polish lenten pastry

Christopher_Dragon wrote:Last night I stopped at the store to get a bottle water and overheard this snippet from a conversation between one of two dirty yo boys and the girl behind the counter.

Dirty Yo Boy (speaking about his friend) : Yeah, he's gay.
He takes it up the ass.

Girl behind the counter: Man... that shit hurts.

To add even more funny to this, she was wearing one of those black pseudo bowling shirts like the ones that usually have flames and shit on them but instead of flames all over it, there were pot leaves.

Fucking brilliant. Especially the shirt. Priceless.

My little boy is seven weeks old today. Already!

Everyday I try to get up as early as possible to spell my wife and to hang with the little guy for as long as possible before I go to work. Sitting in the recliner drinking coffee and listening to music with him is just about as good as it gets I think. I could sit there with him all day long.

And yes, the sun finally came out. We're not getting it quite as bad as the bay area, but it's been dreary. Today I hit golf balls during my lunch hour. Not too shitty either.

today, i was up from the night before at 9am. so i figured i'd take the dog that i'm sitting for his morning walk.

when i met these folks and asked them about their dog they said they didn't "curb" him. so, i wasn't expected to either. they said he's good about where he shits and doesn't typically shit in people's yards.

today, for the second time he shit on someone's flowers. not in. ON. shit ON their flowers.

"you asshole dog. we got to get away fast, c'mon."

after that, i went back and got some sleep.

i was supposed to hang out with my first girlfriend who i hadn't seen in years. she just had her second child. my cellphone died and i missed her call. it's ok. i was sleeping anyway.

earlier today i had some sex with my current girlfriend. after the sex, the washcloth that the sex was mopped up with was tossed haphazardly across the room.

earlier this evening i went searching for the headphones. they were under this washcloth. i'm wearing them on my head right now and they stink of the sex. i'm listening to "an open letter to duke" by charles mingus.

today i went to the snack machine and bought a pack of fruit snacks and smoked a cigarette by myself while polishing off the fruit snacks. candy and cigarettes are second place only to coffee and cigarettes.

my sister who just had her first child in november is on myspace now. she sees all the weird shit in my blog, that i put in the surveys i do when i get bored, and went and checked out my livejournal. my sister now thinks her younger brother is a weird little creep.

that's some details from 13apr06-14apr06. enjoy.

Learned that a fellow EA member was born in the same hospital as I was. Also, we both have cousins who work at DiCarlo's Pizza, in the great Northern Panhandle of West Virginia, Italia.

Thought, perhaps, that we are the same person, unaware of our other selves. I had a brief moment of existential panic. Then I remembered that I am not a character in a Paul Auster novel, and was fine.

The world, she is very very small.