Wednesday, August 24, 2005


OK so I feel like an ass. I was putting together a gift basket for work, and one of the items was a nice Santa Barbara wine. I grab all of the stuff I had just bought and get out of the car, A tells me to put everything in the basket, "I've got it" I reply and take a step. I then proceed to drop the bag holding the bottle of wine, which lands right on my toe, and then proceeds to breaks one of the rhinestones off of my shoe. This is the most painful thing I've ever felt and the pain just keeps coming. Something about feet which make injury to them seem much worse than anything else. I can bang my choulder on every wall in the house, and nothing, but stub my toe on the stairs and I'm whining for an hour.

So there I am in the company parking lot hopping up and down on one shoe and doing a piss poor job of trying not to cry. I limp up to work, A brings me an icepack and some food, and I take a bunch of motrin, my firend that usually has stronger drugs is of course not here today. The rest of the afternoon I sit in my chair, rocking back and forth, trying not to cry, while my toe gets black and blue and the rest of my foot gets frostbite. And then a friend had to drive me home because I couldn't drive. Wow this Tuesday sucked.

Luckily I woke up this morning and my toe is much better, I don't even think I'll loose the nail (yuck). Only half of it is black and I think a little nail polish might fix that up anyways. Stupid bottle of wine, it didn't even break (I'm not sure how I feel about that, I didn't pay for it so I kind of wish the evil thing had shattered so that it couldn't work its mischief on someone else).

Monday, August 22, 2005

So this weekend I flew to Utah in a tiny little plane from LA. I was all ready for the flight with an ipod, a book, and some candy. But after I sit down a larger man sits down next to me slightly encroaching on my space, I'm ok with this as airlines make their seats so that a toddler may sit comfortably and everyone else is squished, that's life. My problem was that the man didn't seem to have the greatest hygiene, there was a funk that emanated from his like the fog rolling over the golden gate. It hits you and for a second you can't see. I've been marinating in this stuff for two and a half hours when the flight lands, and now I assume that I too smell like ass, I love flying. Please everyone when in doubt shower, rub the deodorant across one more time, wash your clothes, or any combination of the three.

My way back to LAX was normal, nothing bad. But then on my flight to Santa Barbara the lady next to me pulls out her breast and starts feeding her child. Which is fine, I understand that your kid needs to eat, but the kid was talking, maybe I'm weird but it seemed a little odd. Would a bottle have been that difficult, or a blanket? I have my own breasts I don't need to see other peoples'.

Oh to have money for a first class ticket where you aren't packed in like sardines. But since I'm so cheap that I'll leave at the butt crack of dawn just to save twenty bucks, so even if I had the money I probably wouldn't pay for an upgrade. So next time I just need to bring some frebreeze with me that I can spray on the guy next to me, and a curtain that I can hang up, I'm sure I wouldn't seem neurotic at all.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

First post

After much peer pressure I went ahead and created a blog (it was either this or work), and as implied by the name this is to be forum for discussion regarding literary works, political and social happenings around the world, and other random crap.

There will be nothing of interest posted on this blog at a regular basis, I just like to hear myself talk (even if its in my head), its doubtful that I will be ambitious enough to add links or pictures, and I'm not a real funny rambler, so there's really nothing of substance to this at all. Mainly this is for me to do during work hours so that it sounds like I'm typing and therefore doing work. Because I feel kind of bad, it seems like my coworkers can fill up their days doing "work" while I sit here and fill up my days by trying not to work but trying to look like I am. You'd think I would just go ahead and work because its got to be about the same amount of effort for both tasks, but oh well.