it's saturday night and i'm all right

i had a coffee with someone tonight. it was all right. i'm going to keep my options open. but it was a promising start to the next round of dating. i'm taking my time right now.

i got a lot done earlier. i finally moved my desk so i can access my stupid files again. god, have i been cluttered.

but i got a lot done.

so, i'm having a bath and hitting the sack. i'm gonna head out to ubc for a walk in the forest in the morning. it's been a long time coming. i'll plan to get muddy. i've always been a dirty girl at heart anyhow. hardy-har-har. (i'll see dad later. should be good.)

there was this cool-as-hell black dude ("african-american") named Leon who was one of my favourite spiritual people i've ever met. he did work as a medium on the side. the year of my mother's death, he said to me i was gonna have a really hard go of it for a long time, but that it was a trial-by-fire test of worthiness, and one day i'd get my due. he was an earthy guy and just had this calming way about him. he was from the american south and had one of those stubble 'fros and a half-dozen missing teeth in the front. dude was straight out of a mississippi documentary. he warned me that i'd have a motorcycle accident about five years before i bought one and all these other crazy-assed things, including mom's death and a few others. he said i should always return to the forest when my life was getting hard, that it'd recharge me.

i must, must, MUST tell you people one day about the fortune teller lady who accosted me on the streets of san francisco, evoking that insanely wonderful Grant Lee Buffalo song, Dixie Drug Store. another time. remind me. so fitting it should be on Haight Street. every now and then i think some of this shit that's gone down in my life is shit i'm making up. most of the time i have other people around for the corroboration, but this is not one of those times. ah, well.

it's been a long-ass time since i've been in the forest, since june, maybe, and i know it's damn near time i recharge. so. the morning. the camera battery's gonna be recharged, too. pictures, like.

y'know, it felt nice getting all gussied up for the date. i like the anticipation of wanting to make a good impression on a member of the opposite sex. it's just darned fun. plan the facial and the ironing, do some free weights. whee. first dates are fun.

forest. so, sleep, then. i see dad in the afternoon, and in the evening, Borat,* which i thought looked horribly racist at the beginning and didn't have any interest in, but then i saw the full-length trailer and laughed quite a bit. i think it was steven wright who said, "i'm not a racist, i hate everyone equally." or maybe it was george carlin. Borat seems to be that kinda flick. if it treats everyone with the same stereotyping, then how is it POSSIBLY racist?! like, hello. that's stating of fact. stereotypes exist for a reason. citing one or two and holding them in contempt above all others is racist. hating everyone is, well. simply pragmatic. :)

besides. i need to laugh my ass off. clerks II hit the spot like no movie ever for me this summer, and i suspect this weekend's a great time for another good laugh.

y'know, i'm thinking about rearranging the furniture in my bedroom. it's a lot of work. blah. but it'll make my curtains more accessible.

which is important, considering the Unruly Printer Incident.

i was gonna photocopy recipes for GayBoy back in August. chicken stock, i think, from the Daily Soup (best soup book ever). only. i didn't see that the riser cord for my bamboo blinds had gathered in the well of the paper intake mechanism.

chaos ensued.

the cord got caught in, around, and through the printer heads. it was horrific. we turned the power off. WRONG IDEA. no, nyet, not good. nuh-uh, daddy-o. whew! goodness me! the head got sucked back into the cavernous side of the printer, but with bad weird angles and el zilch for accessibility. the thing now was going "clunk-clunk-click-clack-clunk-bonk-pbbbbbbt-rattle."

i was doing my shitty-shit-shit hippity-hoppity this-is-horrible dance. "eeeeeee! no!"

i grabbed the surgical scissors. we had to carefully orchestrate an exact cutting/powering up routine. snip sputter-whonk-brrrrrrr-snap-whoosh. we had to cut in three places.

now, if i want to raise my blinds after the fall-out of the Unruly Printer Incident, i have to hand roll, and then, with half of the severed cord in my teeth, use my one free hand to gather about 36" of slack in order to do a simple, um, whatsitcalled? shoe knot? yeah, yeah, i know, my mother was a sailor. cut me some slack. rimshot. please?

i've been meaning to tell that story for a while. what can i say? i live the original crazy life. anyhow. moving my bed would make the whole prospect a little less complicated. i have to presently lean over my desk and prostrate my neck in order to pull this scenario off. yeesh.

Unruly Printer Incident, indeed.

sleep, perchance to snore. yesterday was an utter shit day, and today's a full moon. coincidence? i think not. i'm feeling much better.

and this dude's pictures blow my mind.