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Willie's Off-Brand Web Journal: January 4-January 11, 2004

Saturday, January 10, 2004:

Hey- you know what's really bogutating? If you're the assistant manager of a Media Play and you start attempting to flirt with your cashier in the sleaziest and most inept way possible while she's ringing up a customer. Specifically, if you condescendingly tease her about needing more cash payout slips (or something) and then remark, "Hey- you've got some stuff on your back!" and start "brushing it off" way too slowly and thoroughly while she's running my credit card through. Especially if she's, by all appearances, roughly 17 and you're at least 30. And even more especially if you're a guy who I remember as being a total jackass from my unpleasant two-week period of employment at Media Play back in 2001. Which this guy was. Ick.

CURRENT MUSIC: "The Day the World Turned Dayglo" by X-Ray Spex and "Aerosol Burns" by the Essential Logic.
CURRENT MOOD: Grossed out.
SOME GOOD NEWS I FORGOT TO MENTION: Scott Floman listed my song "Hell" as one of the best singles of the year in his ballot for the Village Voice's 2003 Pazz & Jop poll. So when it's published on February 11, you should be able to look it up online. Yay! Thanks, Scott!
TIME: 7:05 PM.

Doot? | |

Friday, January 9, 2004:

I got me a post office box today, so Desiccant Records can have a professional-sounding mailing address. Well, as "professional" as a record label whose mailing address is in Utica, Michigan, can sound, at any rate. If anyone feels like sending me anything, you can mail it to PO Box 611, Utica, MI, 48318. I like mail.

(I was hoping 611 was police code for something funny- say, regicide- so I could tell people, "Just remember, it's the police code for regicide!" when they ask what my PO box number is, but it appears that number isn't assigned to anything. So if you want to remember it off the top of your head, you'll have to think of the good people at the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers Local Union 611. Fine folks like Ruben Romero and Chris Frentzel, whose tireless dedication to fair working conditions for their brothers has led to a veritable renaissance in the field of electrical repair throughout New Mexico.)

Jon discovered the existence of a cool (if depressing) book today called Lost: Lost and Found Pet Posters from Around the World by Ian Phillips. For some reason, it reminded me of this time I was in the dirt parking lot at CCS a couple years ago, and I came across a bird sitting on the ground, right in the middle of a parking space. She was a nighthawk, and she was sitting on a bunch of her eggs. No nest or anything; the eggs were just lying on the ground. I almost stepped on her because I hadn't seen her (she blended in with the dirt), but the instant I got close, she puffed herself up and stuck her wings straight up in the air in an attempt to look threatening and scare me off. That seemed like such a futile action that I had to sit down on the sidewalk and start bawling for a few minutes. It just struck me as unbearably tragic that she was trying to look mean and protect her eggs even though I was like 100 times her size, and could effortlessly have whomped her if I'd been a predator or an asshole.

I'd been at CCS to pick Jen up, so when we got back to the car, we made a fort of rocks and big sticks around the bird so no one would accidentally run her over. We named the bird Turtle for some reason, and Jen made a sign that said, "CAUTION: MOTHER BIRD WITH EGGS!" and stuck it on one of the sticks. It had a cute cartoon drawing of Turtle on it that made me cry some more, because it reminded me of a three-year-old drawing a naive "get well" card for a terminally ill parent. (I'd taken it as a foregone conclusion that Turtle would meet a rapid demise.) While we were doing this, Turtle sat there with her wings raised again in "threatening" mode, never making an effort to move from her eggs at all. I don't think we ever found out what happened to her in the end; we checked up on her every few days, but I think we missed a week or so and when we looked again, she was gone and so were her eggs. Something probably ate them all. So even though we tried our best to help her, I still remember Turtle as perhaps the saddest creature I've ever encountered, because I don't think she ever had a chance. A metaphor for us all, really.

I don't think the Lexapro has kicked in just yet.

CURRENT MUSIC: Rahmania! by the Bollywood Brass Band.
Happy smile! Happy face! Happy point of view!
"You receive a complaint from a citizen about a matter that you judge to be relatively unimportant and not bearing an investigation. The best course of action would be to:
     (A) listen patiently and noncommittally tell the citizen that the matter will be addressed.
     (B) insist that the person responsible for the grievance will be arrested.
     (C) tell the citizen that lodging such complaints is a waste of your time.
     (D) laugh to let the citizen know that his concerns are unfounded and silly."
5:41 PM.

Doot? | |

Wednesday, January 7, 2004:

Horrible headache. Ow. I took Pip to the Saturn dealership this morning to get its oil changed. The servicing cost me $30, and while I waited, I decided to earn my money back by taking unfair advantage of the free coffee in the Saturn hospitality lounge... and I wound up paying the price for the rest of the day, because I forgot that the chemicals in non-dairy creamer inevitably make my head throb. Took some Benedryl before I headed to work, which made me ridiculously loopy and I wound up leaving early. Been napping pretty steadily ever since. Missed the Howard Dean "meetup" in Royal Oak that I was looking forward to attending. (I gather Dean's supporters are holding these "meetups" all over the country, and was curious to see what they entailed, and whether they're actually as casual as the term implies, given the fact that Dean himself strikes me as a generally apoplectic individual.) This hasn't been the most productive day of my life.

CURRENT MUSIC: Disintegration by The Cure.
My heart is crammed in my cranium and it still knows how to pound.
HORRIFYING REALIZATION OF THE DAY: The chorus to my song "Similar to Sugar Pill" (from Bombs by Night, Balloons by Morning) is a rip-off of the Welcome Back, Kotter theme song. Why didn't anyone tell me this?
6:47 PM.

Doot? | |

Monday, January 5, 2004:

On the interstate tonight, one of the electronic traffic advisory signs read, "Don't crowd the plow." I love the way that sounds, so I'd hereby like to initiate an effort to make it a catchphrase, to be uttered when someone is standing too close to you and you want the offender to step away. "Hey, don't crowd the plow, man!" (It should be said in the same confident manner that Snoop Dogg would say, "Raise up off these N-U-Ts.") If it appears on Gilmore Girls, I'll know we've won. But Anne will have to tell me, as I do not watch Gilmore Girls.

As of today, I am taking Lexapro, the magical antidepressant that's going to make everything better! I'm ashamed to admit that I felt a little suspicious of Lexapro when my doctor prescribed it, simply because it hasn't appeared in any commercials with adorably sad cartoon apostrophes or on promotional writing implements that I've acquired. But we'll see if it works as well on my brain as its competitors' advertisements apparently did.

CURRENT MOOD: No change yet. I'll give it a few more hours.
What if that odd, stabbing pain that I've had in my shoulder for the past week is some sort of government tracking chip?
10:44 PM.

Doot? | |

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