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Friday, December 13, 2002
My Christmas shopping is now 72% complete. Over the last couple of days I have been forced to resort to that most evil of holiday traditions: going shopping in actual, physical stores. I hate it - the traffic, the lines, the women with 700 shopping bags and three strollers who are always in my way. This is supposed to be the magical holiday season. How can I possibly be expected to reaffirm my place in the Brotherhood of Man when I'm constantly being reminded of how stupid and annoying people are? My holiday wish is a 100% online Christmas shopping experience. Unfortunately, I started shopping too late and now I no longer have time for online purchases to be delivered before I leave for Christmas.
Shopping Tip: If you must actually go to a store, take advantage of the wonderful concept known as Extended Holiday Hours.
Last night after work I tried to go to Bellevue Square Mall, and I couldn't even get near the place. Between the insane traffic, the screaming girls and all of the old people, I thought I was at a Rolling Stones concert. <rim shot>
But then I learned that Bellevue Square is open until 11 PM during the holidays. So when I went there again tonight, I was smart: I went at 9:30 PM. There was no traffic, plenty of parking, and everyone was so beaten down by that point that they were too tired to hassle me. It was great. From now on I'm doing all of my offline shopping after 9 PM.
Speaking of the Brotherhood of Man, I watched "The Obsournes" tonight while I ate dinner. I am not a fan of reality TV, but I like this show. They're bizarre and irritating sometimes, but you can tell that they really care about each other.
I also like it because Ozzy displays an incomprehension of the world that I can't help but identify with sometimes, especially when I'm fighting holiday traffic at the mall. In the most recent episode, Ozzy is trying to build a fire on the beach while the tide is coming in. He frantically digs trenches and moves rocks in order to keep the water from putting out his fire, but the relentless waves beat him back. Finally he is reduced to waving his shovel helplessly at the surf and yelling:
"Fuck you, you fucking-ass ocean!"
That, my friends, is pure, undistilled frustration. I feel your pain, Ozzy. I feel your pain.
Shopping Tip: If you must actually go to a store, take advantage of the wonderful concept known as Extended Holiday Hours.
Last night after work I tried to go to Bellevue Square Mall, and I couldn't even get near the place. Between the insane traffic, the screaming girls and all of the old people, I thought I was at a Rolling Stones concert. <rim shot>
But then I learned that Bellevue Square is open until 11 PM during the holidays. So when I went there again tonight, I was smart: I went at 9:30 PM. There was no traffic, plenty of parking, and everyone was so beaten down by that point that they were too tired to hassle me. It was great. From now on I'm doing all of my offline shopping after 9 PM.
Speaking of the Brotherhood of Man, I watched "The Obsournes" tonight while I ate dinner. I am not a fan of reality TV, but I like this show. They're bizarre and irritating sometimes, but you can tell that they really care about each other.
I also like it because Ozzy displays an incomprehension of the world that I can't help but identify with sometimes, especially when I'm fighting holiday traffic at the mall. In the most recent episode, Ozzy is trying to build a fire on the beach while the tide is coming in. He frantically digs trenches and moves rocks in order to keep the water from putting out his fire, but the relentless waves beat him back. Finally he is reduced to waving his shovel helplessly at the surf and yelling:
"Fuck you, you fucking-ass ocean!"
That, my friends, is pure, undistilled frustration. I feel your pain, Ozzy. I feel your pain.
Tuesday, December 10, 2002
Listening: Missy Elliott, "Work It"
Yesterday I mentioned that nothing interesting had happened recently. Regular patrons of this column were probably not worried, because they knew that sooner or later I was bound to have some kind of mishap with a liquid. Dear readers, I am here to inform you that your patience has been rewarded.
After my soccer game last night, I sat in my car drinking water and waiting for the parking lot to clear out. In the middle of taking a drink I got distracted trying to operate my windshield wipers, and I tilted the bottle back way too far. My mouth instantly filled with water. I coughed in surprise, causing me to spray water all over my steering wheel. When I say all over, I mean it. Every visible inch of the steering wheel glistened in the feeble yellow of the streetlights as sheets of regurgitated water cascaded down the plastic and leather surfaces.
The best part is that at the moment I spit up the windshield wipers cleared away the rain to reveal a person walking right in front of my car. She didn't react, but I can imagine what she told her friends later. "This guy was just peacefully drinking water in his car, and as soon as I walked by - thpthpthpth! - all over everything! Do you think he was hitting on me?"
I mopped up the steering wheel as best I could, but I did a poor job since the only drying implement at hand was the rain-soaked jacket I was wearing. Everything is OK now, but I was mightily embarrassed at the time. I can't seem to drink anything these days without encountering some variety of problem. If things are this bad at 29, what will it be like when I'm 80 and can't hold my hands still? I'm going to start wearing a poncho now so I can get used to it.
Yesterday I mentioned that nothing interesting had happened recently. Regular patrons of this column were probably not worried, because they knew that sooner or later I was bound to have some kind of mishap with a liquid. Dear readers, I am here to inform you that your patience has been rewarded.
After my soccer game last night, I sat in my car drinking water and waiting for the parking lot to clear out. In the middle of taking a drink I got distracted trying to operate my windshield wipers, and I tilted the bottle back way too far. My mouth instantly filled with water. I coughed in surprise, causing me to spray water all over my steering wheel. When I say all over, I mean it. Every visible inch of the steering wheel glistened in the feeble yellow of the streetlights as sheets of regurgitated water cascaded down the plastic and leather surfaces.
The best part is that at the moment I spit up the windshield wipers cleared away the rain to reveal a person walking right in front of my car. She didn't react, but I can imagine what she told her friends later. "This guy was just peacefully drinking water in his car, and as soon as I walked by - thpthpthpth! - all over everything! Do you think he was hitting on me?"
I mopped up the steering wheel as best I could, but I did a poor job since the only drying implement at hand was the rain-soaked jacket I was wearing. Everything is OK now, but I was mightily embarrassed at the time. I can't seem to drink anything these days without encountering some variety of problem. If things are this bad at 29, what will it be like when I'm 80 and can't hold my hands still? I'm going to start wearing a poncho now so I can get used to it.
Monday, December 09, 2002
Hello! Sorry about the lack of posting lately. I think I've succumbed to the post-NaNoWriMo, pre-holiday malaise that is going around, so there hasn't been much to post about.
I am terrified to announce that I'm thinking about posting an extended excerpt of my novel for your perusal. I went through the book and printed out some pages that I think are passable, and over the last few days I've been busy stuffing them into various dark drawers and refusing to look at them. As soon as I can get up the courage to pick a section I don't hate, I'll post it here. Stay tuned.
I'm also making vague movements in the direction of completing my site redesign. Right now I'm stuck trying to pick a name for the site. I used to think that just using my name was simple and unpretentious, but now I'm starting to think it's a little…I dunno, weird. I'm trying to come up with one of those interesting-but-inscrutable phrases that people always use to name their sites. I listened to some They Might Be Giants songs, frequent home of the interesting and inscrutable phrase, and I emerged with two primary candidate names: "My Evil Twin" and "Shoehorn With Teeth". I like the last one the best, largely because it makes no sense, but I still need to come up with a picture of a shoehorn. (Pictures of my evil twin are, of course, readily available.) Please leave a comment if you would like to vote for your favorite.
In between these half-hearted stabs at creativity, I've been occupied with not Christmas shopping. More specifically, I've been occupied with worrying about what to get people. I'm deathly afraid of giving people presents they don't like, but at the same time I have no idea what anyone wants or how much I should spend. Like many such dilemmas, my shopping efforts usually end up with me sitting in a chair shaking and whimpering gently. I might just get gift certificates for all this year. I hope everyone likes Long John Silver's.
I am terrified to announce that I'm thinking about posting an extended excerpt of my novel for your perusal. I went through the book and printed out some pages that I think are passable, and over the last few days I've been busy stuffing them into various dark drawers and refusing to look at them. As soon as I can get up the courage to pick a section I don't hate, I'll post it here. Stay tuned.
I'm also making vague movements in the direction of completing my site redesign. Right now I'm stuck trying to pick a name for the site. I used to think that just using my name was simple and unpretentious, but now I'm starting to think it's a little…I dunno, weird. I'm trying to come up with one of those interesting-but-inscrutable phrases that people always use to name their sites. I listened to some They Might Be Giants songs, frequent home of the interesting and inscrutable phrase, and I emerged with two primary candidate names: "My Evil Twin" and "Shoehorn With Teeth". I like the last one the best, largely because it makes no sense, but I still need to come up with a picture of a shoehorn. (Pictures of my evil twin are, of course, readily available.) Please leave a comment if you would like to vote for your favorite.
In between these half-hearted stabs at creativity, I've been occupied with not Christmas shopping. More specifically, I've been occupied with worrying about what to get people. I'm deathly afraid of giving people presents they don't like, but at the same time I have no idea what anyone wants or how much I should spend. Like many such dilemmas, my shopping efforts usually end up with me sitting in a chair shaking and whimpering gently. I might just get gift certificates for all this year. I hope everyone likes Long John Silver's.