Bandolero by Day

In cereal: I purchased a box of Trix from the store (because I'm an adult now, I can eat whatever the hell I want), and when I opened it up, there were spherical puffs in place of the fruit-shaped puffs! I was flabbergasted! Then I seemed to recall a time in the ancient past when Trix was not fruit shaped, but spherical puff-shaped. Has Trix gone old school? Someone older or with better memory than me confirm.

Then I got a Speed Racer turbo car with my Lucky Charms. Balanced breakfast you guys.


In coupons: Got some coupons for a pizza place in the mail. The bottom reads "expires on the summer solstice".

Fuck that! Pizza Hut's coupons are good until Samhain!


In chaos: The fact that other people are making icons like this makes me feel better about having a weird thing for Jeff Goldblum when I was... uh, ten. Through thirteen. Possibly later. Okay, all of puberty.

The work day gets a whole lot longer when all your computer's input devices suddenly stop functioning. I know I'm not the only one who's been a Computer Transient, shunted from desk to desk at everyone else's convenience, dragging your files along with you and feeling oddly disenfranchised. You're not supposed to become so attached to that desk that you hate sitting down at every day, but familiarity digs its bony fingers in and you don't notice it until you get up to leave for another computer, one with a monitor so smudged that the previous user could only have been headbutting the screen in a primitive battle for dominance and enough crumbs in the keyboard to leave a trail from Phoenix to L.A.

Anyway, that's why I once again brought up the idea of driving to Mexico when I went out to lunch with my coworker. I'm sure that if I keep pressing the issue she'll just turn her van south one day, regardless of how many children she has at home.

To my great delight, said coworker showed me a shop that sells Chicago-style hot dogs (HINT: requires celery salt) (note to self: buy some celery salt) only a block away from work. The mere mention of those dogs clouded my mind and my dreams, so much so that even though the owner of the Mexican restaurant next store was INSISTING that I ACCEPT FREE TACOS FROM HIM, I said, "FREE FOOD, can't eat... not... CHICAGO DOGS, AJFLASJF" and fled next door where I paid precious coinage in exchange for not-free food.

That may not have been exactly what I said, but I assure you that my will was torn.

Then I actually returned to the Mexican restaurant and drained their beverage fountain of Horchata and Orange Bang and Piña Colada Bang and Jamaica Ole (not free). All highly recommended, though you are probably shit out of luck if you are not near California.


Bonus feature: I've been carrying a small notebook around with me and marking down any incidence of deranged thinking, to bring to my counseling session with me. I brought the wrong notebook with me this week, and pulled out my shopping list instead. "Can we discuss the deep emotional resonance that ORANGE JUICE and BAGELS are creating in my psyche?"

We did not.

LAST WEEKEND

Chest x-rays: DONE. No blood clots. That's just super. It's hard to stretch out like a ballerina when you're wearing a lead apron.

Hair: CUT. Picture to follow below. My barber Rex was impressed by my grades and tells people that I'm going to be a rocket scientist. He is a doll.

Sunday: CHARITY. I wrangled in shinikius and sakibombshell to come with me, but not mko for she had the plague. We got to my office at 7 a.m. where I showed them my desk of misery and my snowglobe pen of not-misery and my GIANT INBOX THAT IS ACTUALLY LARGE TABLE COVERED IN PAPERS. I win for biggest inbox.

The actual charity event was rather poorly organized, and it seemed like we did a lot of sitting around. I mean, there was actual physical labor on our part, but the whole event was largely too many volunteers and not enough direction. Shinikius says that this is what working for the Salvation Army during the holidays was like. I suggested we all do a soup kitchen next year instead.

I discovered at the event that all volunteers were required to wear a red shirt with "Jesus is the reason for the season" printed on it. I take the fact that Sakibombshell and I did not burn to death when we put the shirts on to be proof that God loves heathens. WE EVEN HAD SHINIKIUS SNAP A PICTURE OF US SAYING "CHEESE-US", AND NOTHING. I think I will create a new proverb for Miscellatheism that states "What humans call blasphemy, God calls comedy".

Post-charity: THE HISTORY BOYS. I think the movie was trying to communicate two things: 1) Oxford and Cambridge are overrated, and 2) all British schoolboys, past and present, are either gay or bi-curious. A good movie, though. It made me want to see the play, so apparently I must have enjoyed it.

THIS WEEKEND (SO FAR)

Ballet: THE NUTCRACKER. (or as my mother called it, "The Man-hater") The tickets were my gift for Shinikius and Sakibombshell and Mko (who did not have the plague this time!), and we went to a matinee showing at Phoenix Symphony Hall. Even though we were last row center, PSH is such a well-constructed venue that we still had a fantastic view. I wish I could describe how beautiful the costumes and the sets were, but all I've got is "It sure LOOKED like a $1.8 million production".

I want Russian Trepak dancer action figures.

When we left the venue at about 4, the bells at St. Mary's Basilica were playing "Noel". The combined force of the bells and the ballet were enough to kill the Scrooge in me for a little while. I wasn't ready to go home (which means that no one else was either, at least in my mental universe), so we strode off towards the basilica, which has a gift shop. I never noticed the gift shop before. For that matter, I never noticed all the bronze statues of dancing nudes in front of the Herberger Theater before. I commented on the fact that most of the statues were female, and Mko suggested that this was so that the sculptor wouldn't have to mould too many bronze penises. A good point. I'm glad that the bronze statues of Pope John Paul II, Mother Theresa and St. Francis at the basilica were fully clothed.

We went past the basilica to Heritage Square because I was hoping to stop by the Teeter House, but they were closed. Way to not put up any "closed" signs during your regular hours of operation, Teeter House! If you did not have the greatest chicken salad and strawberry shortcake and chocolate espresso tortes on the planet, I would SO be boycotting you right now! WHY WON'T YOU LET ME LOVE YOU???

So we walked back towards the PSH and ate at The Matador. It's a damn good thing alliath came to visit in October, or else I might have passed up The Matador and gotten stuck with Pizzeria Bianco instead.

Oh, and I gave Mko the Jesus shirt. She doesn't like the slogan so much, but she's a big fan of the J-man, so I think she'll appreciate it more than me.

Full of hate.

Cooked food.

Spent two hours cooking food.

ME. I. COOKED. FOOD.

First time I've ever cooked.

Left the food on the counter. Went to the bathroom. Came back.

I forget that we have a cat sometimes. I remember very quickly that we have a cat when he is eating some of the food, standing on the rest of the food.

So the first real meal I've ever cooked is in the garbage, and I am very hungry and very angry and very tired because cooking is especially difficult for newbies.

And I hate hate hate hate hate HATE cats.

And dogs. But that's another story.

Okay, I've finally figured out why I like "Brokeback Mountain" so damn much. It's not because it features hot (awkward) cowboy on cowboy action or because it's a story about "twue wub".

I like it because it's about becoming an old, unhappy bum with a bleak future because said bum was too damn afraid to do what would make him truly happy. It speaks to me in a flashing "warning" sign sort of way.

Also because fake Wyoming reminds me of real Arizona.

...

Okay, also because I liked the "twue wub" bit.

ETA: I just realized that might sound a bit insensitive, like "What are you so damn afraid of? A horrible violent death if people find out you slept with a dude? You wuss." And that's not what I meant. Like you couldn't have figured it out for yourself. Why am I still typing?


I forgot to mention that I had Mongolian barbeque for the first time yesterday. Boy, is THAT an art I have yet to master.

"I feel like I'm truly part of a horde."

"Really? Is it the classical music or the pastel colors that do it?"

"Both."