 | |
| 03312004 | |
| Another month comes to a close and I'm laying plans for summer, still - lots to do this year, I have three perfect sunny months and there's not a day to spare to not seize them in my meaty mitts and throttle, throttle, throttle into death! When the full calendar of this summer's events hits your door you are going to wonder when I even got a minute's rest - the answer, as always, is never. And so what? I love my bed - but that doesn't mean I'll sleep in it. |
| Still broken - writing this the same day as yesterday's, Tuesday night, digesting chicken tikka biryani leftovers and planning a shower. The last thing I wanted post leaving work was more time in front of a computer, but it looks like I can't make that choice - still have PoE to update and a few other things. Post-that? A shower is calling me, and then I need to make some calls. |
| There is something wrong. Very wrong. Due to some chicanery in our network, I can't connect to ASAHL at work (nor Portal of Evil, nor many other daily visits). So, it's Tuesday night and I'm writing this from the home computer which I have hopefully set up to upload safely. Extremely frustrating not being able to see your own website - like being locked out of your own home, almost. Hopefully rectified soon. |
| And up again, the new dietary supplement developed by the Russian army doing an admirable job of forcing the fog out of my braincase to be replaced by cool morning sunshine, and then off to see Taoism Drunkard with AK, easily the best kung fu movie feat. Watermelon Monster and Little Mouse Car (on the hook) that I've seen in the ever-ever. Then, spent, both out too-late the night before, retired to Queens to watch Aqua teens (word!) and collapse, sleep of the just and just exhausted. |
| The whole day on the prowl, bouncing from party to party with a brief gap in the evening for a brief nap, drinking pretty much nonstop from noon 'til about 3Am and then collapsing like a dead star into bed, no more light, no more heat. |
| So I'm taking care of Naomi's cats, right? I'm over there last night and Switch really likes it if I sit on the toilet while he eats (their food is kept in the bathroom.) So I bring a book and just hang out in there as he eats. I look down and notice that he's got a big ol' cat turd stuck to his ass, so I grab some TP and make to pluck it off and flush it. But, weirdly, it won't budge - or rather, it budges but it won't pull no further. I drop it to note that it's connected to his butthole by a 6-inch length of dental floss. God damn. |
 "Former Assembly Speaker Herb Wesson, D-Culver City, kicks Zhang Xiao Ju betweent the legs during a demonstration performed by Buddhist monks at the Capitol in Sacramento, Calif., Monday, March 22, 2004." You don't say. |
| Catsitting Switchblade and Blackjack while Nao's in California - those two goofy cats - when they were first brought home and I was staying on the couch they kept me up for two weeks straight tearing crazily around the apartment. Now Jack's fat and his head is tilted almost 90 degrees to the side, but he still peeps at me in confusion whenever I walk around. And Switch is a little thinner, with a little medical problem requiring me to cram aspirin-sized pills down his cat-sized throat, but he still sleeps in the crook of my arm when I bed down, back on the couch again. |
| Bossman's gone and I've got a to-do list as long as your arm to cross my way through before the sun sets and the vampires, etc come out. Lots of promises to keep that are languishing in varying states of unkeptness, plus a cold couple dozen BEST NEW IDEAS EVER that are hankerin' to get done means that this Oneaday entry ends... now! |
| Back to work, getting ready for everybody leaving for GDC for the rest of the week, making me the boss of the hot sauce and able to really crack doon on long-waiting projects and puzzles. Maybe the weather will perk up while I'm at it and I can take my computer up to the roof. |
| Finally synchronized with the dogs today, took three out from the shelter, all new to me after my protracted absence. Three hours of perambulation later, off to the old nabe to see Eternal Sunshine of the etc etc... with AK and then to eat some pork and drink some beer at Pete's, one of my old haunts. Forgot how much I liked living out there - too bad rents have skyrocketed and I like Astoria too much to bail now. And then, home, a weekendended and my ribcage open like St. Peter's gates - now, all are welcome. |
| After seeing a matinee of Dawn of the Dead (super gorguts great) with Naomi and her cru, and then down to the gym for my Saturday swim, I went home to take a quick disco nap before going out to see Xiu Xiu at Tonic. Or at least the plan was for a quick disco nap, but my hard charging caught up to me and I ended up passing out for a solid four hours, waking up too boggled to do anything but drink tea and watch movies with the roommate. |
| So the plan was to hit South Street Seaport at 1:41 this AM for the yearly equinoctical egg-balancing but I ended up getting a little tipsy-lost and totally unbearinged in lower Manhattan (unsurprising) and after looping in circles trying to orient by the water I shuffled home and balanced an egg on my countertop, welcoming Spring with an omelette and a little less gravity. |
|
Never forget You aren't finished yet. |
| Finally finished one of the work projects that has been weighing me down over the last couple days - lots of comparing and typing and reading and clicking, but now it's off my plate and a few new dishes are replacing it, extending this metaphor to make me an obese work-eating gluttonous FATTY FAT FAT LUNATIC. This metaphor is bogus! I will have to EAT IT! CHORF BLORF GLONK CHONK!!!!!!! |
| Great band practice tonight, finally getting our shit back together after too long a layoff. No drummer yet, but a copule prospects in the pipeline. Realizing that I'm going to have to knuckle up and actually finish writing a couple of these songs that have been kicking around too long - for some reason the third verse is always the hardest. Maybe because that's the one where things are supposed to come to a conclusion? |
| If you would, interrupt yesterday's update with that hilarious record-scratching sound, as I dropped $80 to see Prince last night, with mixed results. he was amazing, his band was the worst agglommeration of smooth-jazz mistakepuddles ever poured, and I didn't get home until 4 (and then back up and out at 8) so I'm understandably a little static-addled today. And the blizzard is making the world outside look like an enormous UHF screen, and tinnitus is turning my audio to static, and I need to go to sleep now. |
| Payday, which is good - disposable income-disposing has been at a high lately (trying to keep warm), and my liquid assets were starting to get a little Death Valley dry. I've been saving pretty well over the last few months - the dieting has resulted in reduced food-spending (as $12 of Mexican takeout now lasts me three days) and not drinking so much (a miracle and a wonder - I don't have to have a beer or three at home every night!) has freed up cash for fancy clothes and cookin' fancy meals and doing fancy dances on the fancy Moon. I like those things. |
| Up, out, about, today was my tripledinnerrush cooking day (it's much akin to the Peter Frampton Memorial Glow-Down & Sock Swap only minus the Frampton and sock-swapping), I roasted up some vegetables that didn't really turn out as intended, alas, but my intentions were pure and I learned something, and hopefully the eaters managed to choke it all down in its garlicky glory. Then I hopped on my bike to ride out to Flushing only to find the back wheel bent horribly out of plumb somehow - dragged it home, tried to fix, washed grease off, sigh. Can't win them all, but at least I was in the game. |
| A few misfires (Touch of Evil sold out, leaving me with a few empty hours to fill) couldn't dampen a truly quality A-grade Saturday, kicked off with yes! a successful night's dead-to-the-world sleeping, followed by a good 45 minutes of straight lap-swimming (trying to get my frog-stroke back, with mixed results) and a day meandering the (hellaciosuly cold) (but still beautiful) city before the goddamned Youngblood Brass Band and then - home, mattress-calling - sleeping, again, goodnight, perfect. |
| Have had some minor insomnia issues this week - having a cold seems to drain me of energy but also makes it tough to exercise, which in turn makes it tough to sleep at night, which in turn drains me of energy, etc etc etc. I will sleep tonight, swim tomorrow and hopefully get myself right to that tightrope line of exhaustion and just tuck away on Saturday night for a solid ten hours, wake up in time for the dogs? Or Korean barbecue? or both! A man can dream - but not if he doesn't sleep. |
| Day at work ground by like glass and then I jetted out early to cook Cuban sandwiches for a pretty girl - it'd been far too long since I really pushed myself to do something new in the kitchen and surprisingly enough, I managed to pull it all off pretty smoothly, despite burning some plantains and making a fair-sized mess, and when she walked in the door we were only a sandwich press and a beverage pour away from dinnertime. On Sunday I have to cook for eight people - wish me luck, Chuck. |
| On the train on the way home last night, found myself privy to the kind of hardline Baptist theological discussion that doesn't usually spill outside of Revival halls and awkward family dinners. A posse of twenty-plus people, all with Scripture at the command of their memories, hashing out the essential struggle between free will and God's will, between redemption through deeds or redemption through grace, and while it was a little nutty and a little loud, it was at least also a little interesting. |
| Cold's moved from throat to nose - stupid resurgent winter laying me biologically and bacteriologically and illogically low, but I will not surrender! I'm made of sterner stuff than to let a posse of microscopic fuckfaces harsh my ass-whoopin' realm, and with the aid of modern science I'm going to whip their asses so hard they'll be scrambling to evacuate my system. I'm too good for you, little mister disease. Go scratch up somebody else's tree. |
|
PoEchat, 11:20 this morning: notfromhere: What goes on here Kthor: a lot of fag shit doings Kthor: lickdick and asslick notfromhere: :( Kthor: tongue it Kthor: get it wet notfromhere: :( Kthor: try to clean it off ya Kthor: and go to work the next day Kthor: nobody can tell, man Kthor: secrets notfromhere: like craig'slist? Kthor: exactly like craigslist |
| Recovering slowly - slept inwards, hit the pool, but a new-borning throat cold made me retire a little early to the homestead, despite the nice day. Opened the windows to air out the room and cleaned, wrote music, painted, drew, generally kept it all running and once it was time to hit the sack again I felt pretty good about what'd been done. And then I slept and dreamed as the night sky shone into my window. |
| These journals seem to slide into the habit of one day being the last night's recaps, and it's no surprise - my nights are usually more interesting than my days, which are mostly spent behind the auld office desk. So what do I do when I have an incredibly satisfying day that comes on the heels of a reasonably amusing night? My solution here is not to write about either. Sucks to be you, suckers! |
| Sat back, relaxed, cancelled all other engagements to see the Undertones last night and good holy Goddamn was it amazing. One of my favorite bands of all time playing all of the sad sweet lonely longing songs that make you jump up and down like you were a crazy on drugs and eight years old. It was a great show and then it was over and I went home, tinnitus crickets chirping, to bed. |
| Walking home the twelve blocks from the 30th Avenue W station last night, past the bakery with smells of anise bread baking, past the pizza place wafting hot grease into the air, past Steinway, past the gas station, past Fishbeins and home, walking up the stairs exhausted and elated at the end of a warm Spring day, loving my life and looking forward, forward, forward. |
| Knoxville Tom hit town last evening and whilst I wanted to show him all the city had to offer, time constraints and errant listings (and curse you, those responsible) curtailed the eve a bit, especially as I was exhaustipated from an early morning at the gym and had another one in store for me. But hopefully I at least got his toes wet enough that he'll get hooked, becuase the South is no place for a boy with his decorum. |
| Sweat-addled from a four-mile morning, knees and ankles a little creakier than I'd like, and already far too much to get done today - but unlike last week, this week's chockablock with things I actually want to do - hangin' out with Tomthodyd tonight, jam tomorrow, Undertones on Thursday, ONAN$ and J$P hitting town Friday to tear down the Madagascar party, late breakfast plans on Saturday and then possibly out to Jersey to help out with LOVE COMMAND, Sunday I think I'll walk dogs and swim. All of this is what I like. |
| Chris wakes me up as he comes home last night - "did you see what happened outside?" - massive car crash not fifteen feet from our front door, I slept completely through it. Caved-in front-end sedan, 270-degre pivot minivan with rear wheels on curve, two ex-people in an asphalt halo of blood lit by ambulance strobes. We are so fragile, and there are so many forces. Please be safe. |
FEBRUARY
all content (c) 2003 k. thor jensen