04-29-04

Drinking fountain? What's a drinking fountain?

After sitting at the third floor desk for several hours in which no one asks me anything, I sometimes forget how to answer questions when they actually occur. Even if it's an easy question, like "Where is a drinking fountain," I'll still say something like, "aaarh! i don't know!" and then hide under my desk until they leave.


np: work

3:17 p.m.

04-29-04

People in the shows are just people in the shows.

I finally saw Dawn of the Dead tonight. What can I say? It got right to the point and lots of people died. It was pretty much just like a Shakespearean tragedy.

[Oh my, I loved it.]


np: Clinic-Mr. Moonlight

1:39 a.m.

04-27-04

Maybe the headaches are due to all of this hair pulling on my scalp.

I have decided (alert the media) that next week is definitely a hair-cut week. I am not sure at this point whether the cut will be professional, amateur or self-inflicted, but my hair will definitely be cut.

I think that somewhere along the way I had decided to grow it out, but long hair really seems more appropriate for people who are willing to exert at least a little effort on hair maintenance. I'm really more of a blow-dry and go girl myself.

Unrelated, but if you go to the doctor and tell him/her that you get really bad headaches every single day and that you honestly can't remember the last time you made it through 24 hours without taking some kind of pain reliever at least once, will he/she laugh at you and tell you to come back when you have real problems? My health insurance (or rather, my leeching off of my dad's health insurance) ends in May, and although I don't have an huge problems now (except for the headaches and that ear thing and the fact that i sometimes get horrible, crippling pains in my left wrist), I'm sure that the day after it expires, I'll break both arms, get seven cavities and come down with, I don't know, tuberculosis. I've been thinking about making a preemptive visit to my doctor and dentist sometime in the next few weeks.


np: work

4:10 p.m.

04-26-04

You've never looked so satisfied.

Today there was a note on my car which read "[name and phone number] I bumped your left rear bumper, gently, while trying to turn from the driveway. I am sorry - call if you wish." I have examined not only the back bumper, but the entire car very closely, and the only thing I found that was out of the ordinary was some powdery white stuff on it, which I wiped off with my skirt. No new scratches or dents at all.

Possible conclusions:

1. Someone is doing a sociology experiment to find out if owners of old, beat-up cars will bother calling/raise a fuss over new and possibly imagined dents.

2. The note is on a donation envelope from the Catholic Diocese of Lansing. Maybe they are trying to trick me into sending them some money. (or maybe she had just left the huge catholic church that is across the street from my house).

3. Maybe the church people heard me and my roommate complaining about them (every week they take all of the parking spots on the street. and they park on both sides of the street, which means there is only room for one moving car at a time, even though it is a two-way street), and finally decided to retaliate (either by hitting my car or by simply claiming to have hit my car, causing me emotional and psychological distress).

In another news, today I made a delicious cake. Actually, I used a cake mix for the actual cake part. But the things I did to that cake mix were delicious! Also, I finally got the vinegar/sugar/salt ratio correct in cucumber salad. Of course, I didn't measure anything or even really pay attention to what I was doing, so next time I make it I'll be right back to where I was before.


np: Snow Patrol-Never Gonna Fall In Love Again

9:37 p.m.

04-25-04

Don't let me fall asleep to the sound of cold machines.

Hah! Wrong on all three counts, Pantone colorstrology! Also, the text portion begins "You are a joy to be around and everyone loves you," which I find absolutely hilarious.

(because)


I spent a good portion of the afternoon wondering if I don't have friends, or if I just have friends who are sadly unable to make phone calls or write emails to less than 15 people at a time. I just want something that is specifically intended for me. I'd give my left arm (hey, come on, I NEED my right one), two dozen freshly baked cookies and my entire hoard of laundry quarters for a postcard with my name and address on it right now.


I spent a good portion of the evening wondering what happened to Maggie on the new epsiode of The Simpsons tonight. They threw her in the litter box and then left for Miami. I realize that I'm alone in the fact that I actually like the fact that there's little continuity throughout the series (see also: king of the hill); I like that every episode is a clean slate and that, although the characters have fairly constant personalities, they don't necessarily learn anything or change due to something that happens in a single episode (unless they die or quit drinking) (oh man, i miss barney the drunk. i remember that i watched the episode where he quit drinking and then didn't see any more for a long time (because i was in school and did all of my homework on Sunday nights). then i was watching with one of my housemates and barney looked all weird and slick and never belched once. i incredulously asked my housemate if barney had really stopped drinking, and he assured me (several times, since i kept saying, "what? are you kidding me?") that he indeed had.) So, anyway. Getting back on topic, I don't mind that there is no continuity whatsoever in the series. But I do prefer that all of the major characters are accounted for in each episode. They could've at least dumped Maggie off with Patty and Selma, or something.


My favorite song right now is "Ambulance."


np: Saturday Looks Good to Me-Ambulance

10:38 p.m.

04-25-04

I stand up and toast the tv for getting it right.

So, yesterday on the way to see Snow Patrol*, I decided I'd start a band.

kim: I'd like to be in a band. You could travel a lot.
[silence]
kim: That's it, I'm starting a band. Would you like to be in it?
roommate: What would I do? I'm not very talented. . .
kim: You could play the tambourine.
roommate: Okay. What would you do?
[silence]
kim: I could sing. You could play the tambourine and I could sing. It would be - what do they call it? - outsider music.
[silence]
roommate: Would we need a van?
kim: No, I think we could fit a tambourine somewhere in this car.
[silence]
kim: We will be called 'Peaz.' Or possibly 'the Peaz.'**

after the show:

kim: I've decided that Peaz will feature me singing commercial jingles*** while you play the tambourine. I decided that during the first band. I didn't like them.
roommate: Yeah. I kept wishing she'd stop screaming.

This may sound like a horrible idea, but 30 years from now, college radio stations will be all over Peaz. I mean, a couple of years ago, I couldn't listen to WCBN for a single two hour shelving shift at the science library without hearing something by the Shaggs. All bad music has its day.





*Snow Patol!

**I came up with the band name several days ago, while discussing Korn for some reason.

***I remember every jingle I've ever heard. I'm an advertiser's dream. Except that I don't have any money. And sometimes I can't remember what the jingle is actually advertising.


np: the Long Winters-Blue Diamonds

12:10 p.m.

04-23-04

But don't forget the songs that made you cry, and the songs that saved your life.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how my sixteen-year old self would find my present self completely embarrassing. I think it started because, last week at this time, I was considering buying Converse mules, but a few days later I was at Meijer and they had some off-brand shoes that looked almost exactly the same (except that they weren't mules) and were about thirty dollars cheaper, so I just bought those (and i'm very happy with them, despite the fact that they made my feet bleed the first time i wore them. i am relatively sure that this is something that will end when they are more suitably broken in. (but i am a little sad that the heels have blood stains on them now and the socks i was wearing yesterday look like someone was murdered in them. but oh well.). And I remember very clearly that I spent half of my time being mortified that all of my shoes came from places like Kmart or Meijer, and I spent the weeks leading up to my seventeeth birthday begging my parents to buy me a pair of Dr. Martens. I used the argument that my dad spent about $100 every six months on a new pair of running shoes, and I only bought shoes once every year (if even that much), so in the long run it would be a pretty good investment.

Of course, it wasn't just shoes that were the problem: I was always worried that someone would look at me and say, "Oh, I saw that shirt in Meijer yesterday," (it never occurred to me that if someone could actually identify a shirt as being from Meijer, they were probably buying clothes there too), and I was constantly worried about being disgustingly fat, so I spent the years of 1995-1999 draped in oversized men's clothing, most of which was black brown or grey. It didn't seem very likely that anyone would be able to identify the place of purchase of a black long-sleeved t-shirt. (Actually, by late 1998, I had kind of come out of this. At least, I started wearing colors, although most of my clothes were still too big. I contribute this fact to my improving taste in music (both OK Computer and Radiator (which I bought on import right around Christmas of '97 after hearing 'Play It Cool' on a CBC radio station*) came out in 1997, and it took me about a year to really change what I was doing). I was buying a lot of my clothes at thrift stores then, and kind of approximately looked like an indie kid, even though I had no indie rock community to emulate.)

The one thing that I really hated about myself for a really long time was my hair. Until I was almost 17, it was long and frizzy, and although there were obviously many ridicule-worthy things about me, my hair is the only thing that I ever actually remember anyone making fun of me about. My mom dragged me off to various salons, and stylists gave me leave-in conditioners, and special shampoos, and large flat brushes that they assured me would straighten everything right out. Nothing worked, and all of my ends were constantly splitting, and finally I just had one of my friends hack off a lot of it when we were in Chicago on a choir field trip (my parents were really angry about this. at the time, of course, i thought things like, "well, it's my hair, i can do what i want with it," but looking back, i know that my parents would've probably let me get my hair cut shorter if i'd told them, and they were mostly upset because karisa really didn't do that good of a job on it (she kept say, "if i just cut a little bit more off on this side, it'll be straight. . . . oh, wait, now just a little bit on the other side. . .")).

And the thing that makes it all so bad is that when I was 16 years old I convinced myself that I was not wearing saggy black clothing because I was afraid of what other people thought, but because it was what I wanted. I was sure that I was defining myself as this tortured soul, and that I was nearly universally ignored was because no one understood me. I put on a brave face and said that I was perfectly happy with myself, and it was everyone else who should examine their lives to see where they went wrong.

So now, while my sixteen-year-old self is being quietly horrified that I am wearing shoes from Meijer (and a shirt from K-mart and hoping against hope that i will be able to go on vacation with my parents this summer), I want to strangle her and ask, "Why couldn't you at least try to make a little bit of an effort? Why did you have to compare yourself to everyone around you and decide that you'd never compare to any of them and just give up? Couldn't you figure out that you don't have to define yourself as a person at the age of 16 (or 23 or 30 or 47 or 85)?" If I just could've let a lot of things go, I would've been a lot happier. Not that fake happy that I claimed to be, but really happy.

I guess self-loathing in a teenager is pretty much par for the course, and not really that interesting to read about or anything. I've just been thinking a lot about it lately. )





*seriously, if getting a CBC station in western Michigan isn't a cosmic sign, then I don't know what is. I already had Fuzzy Logic, of course, but I didn't know if it was worth spending all that money on the import of Radiator. It totally was worth it, even though the American release (10 months later or so) had a bonus disc.


np: work

8:44 p.m.

04-21-04

Blacklist anyone who tries to attack this.

I made some toast.

roommate: You're eating the end piece?

me: I like the end pieces. At my house, we fight over them. Because there are only two of them and there were usually three of us.

roommate: That's weird.

me: We also fight over the corner pieces of cake.

[silence]

me: Also, we call the end pieces of bread 'heels.' As in, "I want the heel! Don't eat that heel!"

roommate: Why do you call them that?

me: I don't know. It must be another one of those Mennonite things*.





*We use this as an all-purpose excuse. Past differences of opinions on words that have also been blamed on the Mennonites:

  • Every single person in my famiily calls these 'scrapers' and these spatulas. According to her, the first things are spatulas and the second things are pancake turners (which begs the question, what if you aren't making pancakes?), and we are all sadly very stupid for thinking otherwise.
  • The nonword 'boughten.' Like, "Are these home-made cookies, or are they the boughten kind?" She claims to have never heard anyone say this ever, and I am equally sure that I've heard various cousins use it all the time (although I don't think that I've ever said it). Granted, this probably has more to do with my family being poor and hickish than being Mennonite, but I prefer to play down the country bumpkin part of my heritage.
  • Not about a word, but she also thought that my idea that banana splits were anything that involved bananas and ice cream was somehow due to Mennonite influence.


np: Glenn Gould-Invention 6 in E Major (Bach)

10:30 p.m.

04-20-04

I usually only accept tips in the form of hermetically sealed food, but I might have to make an exception.

At about 4:55 this afternoon at work, some guy called and asked me to find a copy of High Fidelity for him. I found it for him and he said he'd be there in about 10 minutes to pick it up and asked me my name. I said, "kimmmmmmmmmm," because I got stuck on the m, which sometimes happens when I am not careful. Ten minutes later, a man approaches my desk and says, "Kim?" And I handed him the book, since he didn't look like someone that should know my name and he sounded like the guy from the phone ten minutes ago. He then handed me a white paper bag and said, "And here is a gift for you."

I was a little confused and said, "Um, thanks," and wrinkled me nose and looked bewildered. He replied, "It's a Yo-Berries. From Le Dog. And I was still confused, because no one has ever given me food as a gift for finding a book for them before. I hoped that it was something that was sealed, because it seemed foolhardy to accept an open container from a complete stranger. He said, "Thanks again," and I said, "Well, thank you too," but it didn't really sound very sincere.

I peeked into the bag and it was, of course, a not sealed and very delicious-looking yogurt parfait. With granola and almonds and blueberries and blackberries and raspberries and strawberries. And I really wanted to eat it. Like, right there at the desk while I was waiting for my fifteen-minutes-late coworker to come and replace me.

I brought it home and showed it to my roommate and explained the circumstances surrounding it. She was in awe of its tastylookingness, but said that it was probably a better idea not to eat it. I defended my parfait with, "He seemed like a nice man. . .and if he was trying to kill me, he'd probably want to be around to see it." I put it back in the fridge and decided to think about it for a while.

While thinking, I found the previously linked to web site, and as it turns out, the guy is actually the owner of Le Dog (which, as my roommate noted, would've been something he could've helpfully mentioned at the time). So it now seems more safe (but not really any less baffling). And now I feel bad because I didn't seem very gracious about it.


np: the Shins-Kissing the Lipless

6:32 p.m.

04-20-04

But it's too late to say you're sorry.

You can go to this website and find out which celebrities you look like. I got Toni Braxton, Ingrid Bergman and J. Lo. Which is odd, because not only do I not look like any of them, none of them look like each other, either. After that, I tried it again with what I thought was a better picture and got Andie MacDowell, Sandra Bullock, and some woman who I'd never heard of and whose name I can't remember. I was about to try it again and tell them that I was male so I could see what kinds of boys I look like, but then I realized that my time would be better spent doing, well, pretty much anything.

I took a picture of myself today in which I look exactly like Botticelli's Venus. Except I don't have long flowing blonde hair, was not standing in a giant clamshell and was wearing a denim skirt and a tshirt that said, "Mount Clemens Post Office" on the front. Actually, it is just the lighting and the way my head is tilted. I am never going to show it to anyone, because they would tell me that I don't look like Venus at all It is going to be my secret birth of Venus self-portrait. Please do not tell anyone.

And finally, Malcolm McLaren remixed the Zombies song "She's Not There" (one of my very favorite songs ever) for the Kill Bill Volume 2 soundtrack. It is very smooooooooth and makes me feel sleepy.


np: Malcolm McLaren-About Her

1:48 a.m.

04-19-04

It just occurred to me that things aren't as they seem.

The other night at work, the conversation naturally turned to zombie movies, and I said something about how I totally love them (and, as a result, it fills me with shame to say that I haven't yet seen Dawn of the Dead. it is mostly a money issue. after two weeks of not seeing a movie in a first-run theater, it seems more logical to wait until I can see it at the cheap theater. but anyway), and the technohost just could not believe this. It struck me as being odd, because it seems to me that if strangers can tell one thing just by looking at me (assuming strangers are going to think about me at all), it is that I like zombie movies. It just seems so logical (my roommate agrees with this point).

Strangers very often get things wrong, though. Once during my freshman year, I was eating lunch in the cafeteria and sat with some girl who lived down the hall from me because all of the other tables were full. She asked me why I wasn't wearing my glasses and I said that I didn't wear glasses. She said, "What? Are you sure? I know that I've seen you wearing glasses!" and I just kind of shook my head. She replied, "Well, I guess you just seem like the kind of person that would wear glasses." And I sat there and wondered if I squint a lot or something.

Then there was the time in seventh grade when my choir director could never remember my name because he thought I looked more like a Deborah than a Kim. I didn't really understand it, because I'm pretty sure that I couldn't possibly look less like a Deborah. I look more like a Frank than like a Deborah.

I feel like I have failed in projecting an honest image to the world. If you ever see me, please do not assume that I am Deborah, the glasses-wearing zombie-hater.


np: Super Furry Animals-Some Things Come From Nothing

1:40 a.m.

04-18-04

You've got needles and pins and the seven deadly sins.

I sat on the porch and read for a little while this afternoon, but I had to go in after about an hour because I was afraid my legs were going to get sunburned, and before I sat on the porch, I walked downtown (in flip-flops which, in retrospect, was a really bad idea,* even though I see other people doing it all the time), and while I was walking downtown I looked down at my legs (well, really at my feet, to avoid stepping in any of the numerous sidewalk potholes, but my legs were down there too) and admired how unbelievably white and smooth (it is amazing what a new, sharp razorblade will do. i had previously been attempting to just pull the hair out with an old dull one). And since I very rarely admire any part of my physical appearance, it seems like I should try to hold on to this for as long as possible (which won't be hard, since I don't tan at all. I do, however, turn brilliant shades of red when exposed to open sunlight for more than about 45 minutes. and also, if exposed to partly-cloudy skies for about 1.5 hours).

Anyway, I also bought a grill today! For 15 dollars. It is kind of small and sad and flimsy-looking, but it should serve all of our grill-out needs for the summer.

And then I made the best sandwich in the world! I have actually had a week full of superb sandwiches (which, by the way, I eat not because I can't cook, but because I really love sandwiches), but tonight's Swiss cheese/tomato/onion (baked until the cheese was melty and the bread was toasty and then topped with a little mayonnaise) sandwich was the best thing ever. I actually used to eat them all the time when I lived at the co-op** because we ordered Swiss cheese in bulk and always had it around. However, when I moved out, I never bought it because, on my own, I can only afford orange cheeses. Last week, though, Swiss was on sale and I bought a whole lot if it.

I think there was something else I was going to say, but I just wrote that long, double-starred footnote down there, and I've completely forgotten what it was.





*I already had blisters/callouses/all kinds of really sexy things like that all over the bottoms of my feet because I recently switched over to spring footwear, but now I also have blisters on the tops of my feet too! yay.

**I actually ate most of them at 2am one semester when I would stay at the library studying until the wee hours of the morning, and then stumble home ravenously hungry. That was before I realized that my grades were pretty much the same whether I poured my heart and soul into studying or exerted a lot less effort and had more time for fun things, like teevee and a second job. The semester I realized that, I actually forgot to do the final assignment for my semantics class because I had spent the night before sitting on my porch with my feet in a kiddie pool, drinking a margarita. (And also, while I was sitting there with my feet in the pool, my French instructor walked by and I yelled something like, "Bahn jooooouuer, Adrien," and he looked slightly worried that me and my partially-drunken companions were going to leap from the porch and attack him, while speaking French badly.)


np: Super Furry Animals-Fire In My Heart

8:44 p.m.

04-16-04

Spring mules in jail.

Monday night it snowed.

Today it was 80 degrees.

Three cheers for Michigan!!!

[abrupt change of subject #1]

Work conversation:

[you need a library card or picture i.d. to use the internet stations]

man #1: Well, I don't have my driver's license because I just got out of jail and they cut it up.

man #2: I told him not to steal that car, but he didn't listen to me!

man #1: Geez, do you have to tell everyone?

[abrupt change of subject #2]

I am in dire need of shoes that are good for walking in and simultaneously look ok (see, I'm not even expecting them to look good, just sort of fine) with skirts. I was thinking maybe something like this, but I'm not sure. And the technohost said that they're really uncomfortable (although he was not talking about the mules, just the regular low-tops).

Really, I just want them because they are called mules.


np: work

7:04 p.m.

04-16-04

An ode to my breakfast.

Soy milk, my love for you knows no bounds. And I'm not just saying that because I was paid a penny to take you away from the store*. You are the greatest! I wish that I was lactose intolerant, because then I would have a good excuse to buy you all the time, even though you are somewhat pricier than your cow-based counterpart. You have made my cereal new and exciting!

Also, honey whole grain bread: you are so much better than your cracked-wheat sister that I can hardly believe that you are the same species. You are the tastiest toast I have had since Ed's sourdough, and in the future, I'm sure that we'll have many sandwiches together.



*i had a $2 coupon and it was on sale for $1.99!


np: Saturday Looks Good to Me-Ambulance

9:00 a.m.

04-15-04

Do you have tax forms?

Here was my day at work:

"Do you have tax forms?" "Do you have tax forms?" "Do you have tax forms?" "Do you have tax forms?" "Do you have tax forms?"

Also, I've noticed a great number of people reading books while walking their dogs. Or maybe it is the same person and dog over and over. In any case, it bugs me. "Well, yes, when I got this dog I was aware that I have to occasionally take him for walks, but I can't really be expected to pay attention to him for the 15 minutes it takes to stroll around the block, now can I?" But I am probably just jealous because they can have pets and I can't (until I live somewhere else).


np: Matt Sharp-Just Like Movie Stars

6:11 p.m.

04-14-04

Just in time.

I just walked to the bank with a little black cloud over my head, thinking about how the rebate for my router is probably never going to get here, and how I had no idea who to complain to about it. And then I thought about how my roommate gets to use the router every single day, even though she refused to help pay for it, and how it would be entirely fair for me to unplug everything from the router and put it and all of its cords back into the box and keep it in my room until August (because it is mine). And then I could start taking my laptop downstairs to the dining room whenever I wanted to use the internet and she could go back to not being able to use the internet on her computer at all*.

When I got home, though, I had an email that said my rebate has been sent! It had my full name in all capital letters a lot, which made me sad because I don't like to be yelled at by rebate people, but at least I'm getting my money.

Now I am going to go outside and remove cigarette butts and litter from the small garden area in front of the porch, because I've decided that I'm going to plant flowers there eventually.





*it is odd that all of my revenge fantasies seem to include some sort of irritating sacrifice on my part in order to ensure the suffering of others (and i know i sound unbelievably whiney by calling taking my computer downstairs a sacrifice, but it is annoying. it really is.).


np: Ted Leo-Dirty Old Town

3:11 p.m.

04-13-04

And someday, I will undoubtedly respond with, "Well. Good for you!"

Earlier, I was manning (actually, womanning, i guess) the public internet stations because the technohost was on a break, and a woman came up to the desk and said, "The computer I was using just shut down!"

I wasn't all that surprised (or interested, for that matter) because that is what happens to the person that has been on the longest when there are people waiting to use a computer. But they receive a warning message from the computer first, so I asked her, "Did you get a warning*?"

And she said, "I'm a peace activist!"

At that moment, I realized that a surprising number of my verbal exchanges at work involve me asking a question and a patron responding with something bafflingly unrelated. After a brief (but noticeable) silence, I said, "Well. . .there's a waitlist right now. . .so whoever has been on the computer the longest gets kicked off. . .but it should have sent you a warning first."

But then there are other times that patrons helpfully finish my sentences/think of words that I cannot, for whatever reason, remember. Like earlier when I was trying to put a request on a book for a man but couldn't because his library card had expired. I said, "You can go over to the circulation desk and get it re- . . . re- . . . re- . . ." And he said, "Renewed?" All I could think of was 'reunexpired.'





*actually, asking people this is pretty useless, since they always answer, "no." and it's hard to tell if the computer has made a mistake (which it often does), they did receive the message but didn't understand it, or if they received and understood the message but didn't want to lose their computer.


np: work

6:28 p.m.

04-12-04

"Heeeeey! Hots-kabobs!"

I forgot to mention that Saturday I went to the first garage sale of the year. I am unsure of what I like more about garage sales: buying cheap crap, rummaging through other people's belongings while they're standing there looking at you, or being able to briefly enter a stranger's home (at least their garage, which is kind of part of their home (although, the people yesterday said we could go look at furniture inside the house if we wanted to)). I didn't buy anything, but my mom bought a doll for her day care kids. It didn't have any clothes on, and she held it up to the lady and said, "How much do you want for this naked baby?"

Today my parents and I watched Radio, which was a movie I honestly never expected to see. My dad wanted to see it, though, and they had a free pay-per-view coupon, and so it goes. I had expected it to be a 'mentally handicapped kid saves football' kind of movie, but it was actually more of a 'mentally handicapped kid teaches us all how to love and respect each other' movie. And at a poignant moment, my brother had a seizure, and it's hard to obtain that feeling of "oh, look what that mentally retarded man can teach us" when your much more severely mentally retarded brother is seizing all over the floor.

[self-righteous paragraph deleted for the good of everyone.]

Also, this may be unrelated (because the rest of this entry was well thought out and showed a very definite and logical line of progression from one topic to the next, and is a shoo-in for the next Pulitzer prize), but didn't it take mayonnaise makers an inexplicably long time to put mayonnaise in a squeeze bottle? Today I was making a sandwich, and the mayonnaise (actually it was Miracle Whip - don't skip the zip! [your ad here! contact the-ordinary at diaryland dot com]) was almost gone and I had to stick almost my whole arm (hyperbole) into the jar. And then when I got it out, it was all mayonnaisey (miracle-whippy) and gross. We've had squeeze bottles of ketchup and mustard forever (i will not be bothered with actual facts)! It seems odd that squeeze bottles of mayonnaise took so much longer to come about.

Finally, I realize that admitting this doesn't say anything very good about me, but I cannot stop watching Green Acres. It truly is the place to be.


np: Beulah-Gravity's Bringing Us Down

1:52 a.m.

04-10-04

What a difference twenty years makes.

Yesterday I went shopping with my mom and saw a woman buying a whole stack of ovulation test kits from the dollar store.

Also, my mom bought me two boxes of cereal, a jar of refrigerated pickle spears, a 24 pack of diet pepsi, toothpaste, and skin silkening facial masque. Which ought to keep me going for a while.

Today we went to the store again, and ran into the people that currently live in the house my dad grew up in. They have not seen me since the early eighties and were amazed to learn that I am no longer an infant. Also, the man said something in Pennsylvania Dutch to me, and I actually knew what he said, since it was just something about how my grandma speaks Pennsylvania Dutch. I actually didn't know that my paternal grandmother speaks it because I knew that my maternal grandfather did, and it never occurred to me that there would be Pennsylvania Dutch speaking grandparents on both sides of my family (great-grandparents, maybe).


np: my mom making pizza dough

4:01 p.m.

04-09-04

They can say what they like but the fact is they know nothing about us.

I am at my parents' house for the holiday. I was excited at the prospect of drinking tap water that didn't taste like celery or smell like a swimming pool after sitting for 25 minutes, so I drew myself a big glass . . . and it was full of sand! I pointed this out to my mom and she said, "Yeah, I'm not surprised," which didn't really help solve the problem or answer any of my questions.

Also, I had been reading a lot about this William Hung fellow's cd, but I had no idea who he was until yesterday. I'm pretty sure that that makes me superior to 99% of the population of the United States.

And I've been trying to figure out if I want to go see this band at the UICA on Saturday, or wait and see them on Wednesday at some place in Ann Arbor that I've never heard of. Actually, I can walk to the Ann Arbor show, so it wins, hands down. (It is also two dollars cheaper and includes Saturday Looks Good to Me.)

Those faux-ladybugs are everywhere. At this point, I think my parents should just move and leave the house to them. They keep biting me and landing on my face and flying with gusto toward my computer screen, since I turned off the light by my bed to stop them from congregating on my pillow. My dad asked a (presumably not very good) exterminator friend of his how to get rid of them, and he said, "Well, when it gets warm outside, they'll just stop coming into the house."


np: the Lucksmiths-Self Preservation

12:57 a.m.

04-06-04

If I were the bionic woman, what would I wear?

I almost forgot that today is April 6, which means, of course, that Freaks and Geeks is finally on dvd.

But this doesn't really have any immediate effect on my life, since list price is $70* and I don't have that kind of money to spend on dvds (i was just now sitting here and wondering if i could justify spending four dollars on a sandwich, since i found out at three o'clock that i could work until nine instead of five. which also happened a couple of weeks ago, but at least this time i have money with me). So, unless a used copy shows up for thirty dollars or less soon, or unless my parents buy it for me for my birthday (and there's absolutely no way my parents would ever spend $70 on a movie), it will be a good long while until I can spend an entire weekend shut up in my room watching a tv series that died before its time.

Until then, I will take comfort in the fact that I once had shoes identical to Sam's:

*although amazon dot com is selling it for $50. which is still too expensive for me, but sounds almost doable, when compared to $70.


np: work

5:26 p.m.

04-06-04

Early morning adventures (featuring lowercase letters!) (and incomplete sentences!)

5:50am - awakened by sound of housemate's door slamming shut (because, as everyone knows, taking the time to close one's door quietly is too much work)

6:11am - look at clock and think, "it's only 11:61. i can sleep for six more hours." (what?)

6:13am - shut heater vent (because i have to use the heater vent at night, because i leave my windows open all day even though it is not really warm enough for such behavior. the weather's newest trick is that it is bright and sunny and warm looking while actually only being 25 degrees.)

6:30am - many large trucks go by, causing the windows to rattle.

6:45-6:50am - listen to beeping sounds as large trucks back up.

6:55am - Take picture of sunrise over apartment building behind house through a dirty window.

7:10am - see gigantic spider on wall above bed. turn so back is toward that wall.

7:11-7:20am - worry about spider.

7:22am - ambulance goes by.

7:25am - turn over to look for spider. it is gone.

7:26-7:35am - worry about spider.

7:45am - more noisy trucks (it's garbage day, after all)

8:00am - consider getting up, since it doesn't seem very likely that i'll be getting any more sleep.

9:46am - wake up and discover that i set the wrong alarm* and am already 46 minutes behind schedule. not that it really matters.

*or is it, "i sat the wrong alarm?" "i setted the wrong alarm?" i could just play it safe and go for, "i didn't set my alarm clock properly," but that doesn't sound like anything i would ever say. do i think so much about this kind of thing because i was a ling major, or was i a ling major because i think so much about this kind of thing?


np: Superchunk-100,000 Fireflies

10:45 a.m.

04-06-04

Glamorous.

It is 2:48am and my nose is bleeding. And my roommate is in the bathroom so I can't even go stuff toilet paper in it (because, isn't that the normal course of action in the case of nosebleeds?)(and also, I don't buy kleenexes (i know that that is a brand name and not a generic term, and yet i continue to use it as one.), because I have no use for them except when it is 2:48am and my nose is bleeding.).

And I'm typing very slowly and quietly so that my roommate doesn't hear me, because if she heard me, tomorrow she would ask me what I was typing at 2:48am, exactly 40 minutes after I told her I was going to bed. I would probably say something like, "A short story about ducks," because I am bad at coming up with quick and believable lies.


np: nothing. because i'm asleep.

2:48 a.m.

04-04-04

And then they all made fun of me for a while.

Also, today was only the second time my parents haven't emailed me to remind me about daylight savings time/the end of daylight savings time. Today it didn't matter because I actually knew about it, but the first time I wandered around all day being completely unaware, and it was only when I asked "Why are we eating dinner so early?" to my housemates (dinner in the co-op was always at six) that I learned the truth.


np: Clinic-Goodnight Georgie

10:58 p.m.

04-04-04

Inactivity

I spent the whole afternoon feeling kind of disoriented, due to the time change and the fact that I was reading and dozing and listening to radio from the west coast, and they kept talking about how it was two o'clock or three o'clock and then, when I actually looked at the clock, it was 6:30.

I had the house to myself this weekend, which somehow translated to reading the Chronicles of Narnia* and remembering how much I love Clinic. And downloading the "Slow Life" ep, only to discover that I don't really like either of the b-sides. Which made me sad, but I tried to counteract that with an acoustic Gruff Rhys (acoustic at Kim's, no less. that's my name!). And sure, they may not be of the highest quality, but "Mario Man!" "Fire in My Heart!" A traditional Welsh shepherd song! This doesn't happen every day.

Obviously, I don't have anything to say and just wanted to type something because today the date is 4/4/4, which is very cool.





*because, I was sitting at work the other day and all of a sudden realized that I'd never read them. Except, upon reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and Prince Caspian, I think that I might have been mistaken. They seem awfully familiar. Also, it appears that the whole series has been renumbered in chronological order since I was a member of the target audience, which doesn't seem right. (and amazon.com reviewers are NOT AMUSED.)

np: Clinic-Distortions

10:21 p.m.

04-01-04

I waited all winter long.

Things I don't like:

  • The fact that I spent an hour Sunday afternoon scraping away dried bits of food that have been collecting in the microwave for the last seven months and have not heard one word about the sparklingly clean microwave from either of the two other people who live here.
  • The yellow car that has been parked in front of my house for the past four days. I just can't understand what would inspire someone to purchase a yellow car, as they are the ugliest of all automobiles. All of the other cars make fun of yellow ones, even decrepit old loser cars like mine. I was putting something in my trunk, and my car was like, "oh my gaawwwd, kim, do you see that yellow car? I look so incredibly SEXY next to that thing." And I was like, "You look sexy any old time. Let's drive, baby, " and then I slammed the hatch closed and lots of rusty pieces fell off, which happens every time I close the hatchback.
  • The fact that I stripped down to my undershirt to eat dinner, reasoning that if I didn't, I would get tomato sauce all over the white shirt I was wearing.
  • It is April: I have now spent one year doing absolutely nothing.
Things I do like:
  • The fact that I went from "I want a chocolate chip cookie" to "I have now made two and a half dozen chocolate chip cookies" in about one hour.
  • When every package of chocolate chips at the store has the wrong price marked on it so that I get a 24 oz package for the price of a 12 oz package.
  • The Family Guy/Futurama hour on Adult Swim.
  • It is April: sunnier days ahead (hopefully), Snow Patrol in Detroit (and yes, i will talk about this continuously until it happens. so there.), Freaks and Geeks on DVD, Easter candy wrapped in pastel-colored foil, and daylight saving time (i LOVE daylight saving time).


np: Snow Patrol-Chocolate

1:11 a.m.

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