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Saturday, January 12, 2002
Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids have always really scared me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:41 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:41 PM | shower me with attention
Friday, January 11, 2002
My mom stole David Sedaris' Naked from me last night to read. She read the essay, the one about all his nervous tics, the one that made me so crazy I had to put the book down for a week-- and this morning she had a nervous episode.
COINCIDENCE?!?!
There should be a warning label on that book.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:33 PM | shower me with attention
COINCIDENCE?!?!
There should be a warning label on that book.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:33 PM | shower me with attention
I just CAN'T be too mad at the world right now!
I just CAN'T!
Sometimes, there's a bunch of crap, but also, sometimes, you have to SING.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:01 PM | shower me with attention
I just CAN'T!
Sometimes, there's a bunch of crap, but also, sometimes, you have to SING.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:01 PM | shower me with attention
More and more reasons to like my bosses. I was over by the printer getting another assload of work to do and Lauren is standing by Alex's desk going, "Okay, play me the Red Vines song again!"
My ears perk up. Alex clicks the mouse and I hear, yes, I hear Aimee's voice coming out of the speakers.
I spin around. "Are you listening to Aimee?"
"Yeah, we love her!"
Hee hee hee. Hee hee hee. An interesting conversation ensued, of course.
I feel so cool right now.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:22 PM | shower me with attention
My ears perk up. Alex clicks the mouse and I hear, yes, I hear Aimee's voice coming out of the speakers.
I spin around. "Are you listening to Aimee?"
"Yeah, we love her!"
Hee hee hee. Hee hee hee. An interesting conversation ensued, of course.
I feel so cool right now.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:22 PM | shower me with attention
Confession time.
I am going to confess.
I expect to be forgiven for my sins after I confess.
Okay, here we go.
Of late, I have been having trouble sleeping. (I'm beginning to suspect the Effexor, which I think may be a stimulant, and maybe I need to take it WAY before bedtime...) I have been hesitant to use anything with Benadryl-type antihistamines in them, which work like a charm, because they make it insanely difficult for me to wake up in the morning. Instead, I decided to try reading something boring.
So I got my dad's old, red-leather-bound, falling-apart, "special edition" copy of The Lord of the Rings down from the shelf. This thing is huge. My whole life I gazed up at it on the bookshelf, judging it by its cover alone, until I actually tried to read it and was bored to tears. (My sister, contrariwise, was the one who read and reread it to its current falling-apart state.)
First night, started on the prologue, and was conked out almost immediately by the descriptions of hobbits and the various family names and histories.
Works like a charm, I thought as I drifted off.
Second night, same deal. Finally, I thought, something that works better than Ambien!
Last night, I finally made it through to the first chapter, and damned if...
...damned if...
I can't say it.
Oh, hell! Damned if I didn't start getting into it!
I don't expect this will last, of course. But I felt a confession was in order.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:59 PM | shower me with attention
I am going to confess.
I expect to be forgiven for my sins after I confess.
Okay, here we go.
Of late, I have been having trouble sleeping. (I'm beginning to suspect the Effexor, which I think may be a stimulant, and maybe I need to take it WAY before bedtime...) I have been hesitant to use anything with Benadryl-type antihistamines in them, which work like a charm, because they make it insanely difficult for me to wake up in the morning. Instead, I decided to try reading something boring.
So I got my dad's old, red-leather-bound, falling-apart, "special edition" copy of The Lord of the Rings down from the shelf. This thing is huge. My whole life I gazed up at it on the bookshelf, judging it by its cover alone, until I actually tried to read it and was bored to tears. (My sister, contrariwise, was the one who read and reread it to its current falling-apart state.)
First night, started on the prologue, and was conked out almost immediately by the descriptions of hobbits and the various family names and histories.
Works like a charm, I thought as I drifted off.
Second night, same deal. Finally, I thought, something that works better than Ambien!
Last night, I finally made it through to the first chapter, and damned if...
...damned if...
I can't say it.
Oh, hell! Damned if I didn't start getting into it!
I don't expect this will last, of course. But I felt a confession was in order.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:59 PM | shower me with attention
Look at her. She needs to be swung around. Dear, oh dearie me, I am so hopelessly far away.
You're a prism, Kitana. You're fifty rainbows in fifty directions. Deal with it.
But, do continue with the writing. An embarrassment of riches today! I feel so nice and stuffed, yet hungry for more.
And of course you were never a loser. I was projecting.... ;)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:25 PM | shower me with attention
You're a prism, Kitana. You're fifty rainbows in fifty directions. Deal with it.
But, do continue with the writing. An embarrassment of riches today! I feel so nice and stuffed, yet hungry for more.
And of course you were never a loser. I was projecting.... ;)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:25 PM | shower me with attention
And like their ancestors did
The adults fight the kids
And containers fight off the excitement near the cracks in the lids...
Hmm, Scott Miller, please marry me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:16 PM | shower me with attention
The adults fight the kids
And containers fight off the excitement near the cracks in the lids...
Hmm, Scott Miller, please marry me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:16 PM | shower me with attention
Thursday, January 10, 2002
This sketch is happening right here, right now.
It happens to everyone, and now it is happening to my boss.
I am being so nice and restrained in my private laughter.
Yay, me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:46 PM | shower me with attention
It happens to everyone, and now it is happening to my boss.
I am being so nice and restrained in my private laughter.
Yay, me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:46 PM | shower me with attention
Every person I have called today-- a cast of thousands-- who has not called me back-- castofthousands-- from my mom, to that guy on the 14th floor who wants those two servers moved and wants me to see it done, to Kitana-- is a great big loser.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:39 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:39 PM | shower me with attention
I have a friend. This friend is the most mature, responsible, hardworking person of age 22 that I have ever known. She has been this way her whole life. She learned to drive, got a job, went away to another state for school, got a job there, worked like a mule, did everything that was expected of her whether she wanted to or not, with minimal complaint, owing to her extraordinarily (in my opinion) unhealthy sense of familial duty.
(This is probably not uncommon in most circles, but among my generation-- among young most people I know-- anyhow, among this person's friends, myself included-- an unquestioned sense of responsibility is an extremely rare thing. Most of my friends don't know how to drive and got their first jobs much later in life than what is considered usual. My friend stands alone among most of her peers in these respects.)
This friend graduated from college last semseter. She had been expected to immediately take all steps to enroll in graduate school, with no breath at all in-between. She failed to take the necessary preliminaries, due to her overwhelming exhaustion at the workload given to her as a graduating senior during her last semester of college. Please imagine the enormous guilt and self-flagellation that followed this one entirely human mistake. She is constantly berating herself for this one understandable error. Any trouble she has now, she says, is her own fault and is entirely deserved.
Rather than wait a semester to attend the graduate school of her choice, my friend is being forced to enroll in a community college, because her mother insists that she be in school right now right this very minute and how dare you not be working like a dog as well right now right this very second. My friend, who is currentlyt financially dependent on her mother due to the incredibly scarce employment opportunities afforded by our present economy, feels that she has absolutely zero say in how her life should be going right now (or ever). What her mother wants is what must happen, and she has absolutely no say in it whatsoever.
If it means missing a trip she's been planning on for months-- and having to pay for the plane ticket anyway, mind you-- then that's what must happen.
Never mind that most people take off six months, a year, between college and graduate studies, to learn a little about life, to work at McDonald's or to laze about, to travel to Europe on their parents' money or spend a summer scouring toilets, or what-have-you. Never mind that the early 20's is difficult enough for most of us without having any sense of adulthood or independence, or, indeed, any kind of autonomy whatsoever, be snuffed out by feelings of guilt for, hell, being alive, for not supporting her family, for finding it difficult to get work in New York City in the wake of a national disaster and massive unemployment.
Never mind all that. What mama wants, mama gets.
It's god-damned-un-fucking-fair.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:19 PM | shower me with attention
(This is probably not uncommon in most circles, but among my generation-- among young most people I know-- anyhow, among this person's friends, myself included-- an unquestioned sense of responsibility is an extremely rare thing. Most of my friends don't know how to drive and got their first jobs much later in life than what is considered usual. My friend stands alone among most of her peers in these respects.)
This friend graduated from college last semseter. She had been expected to immediately take all steps to enroll in graduate school, with no breath at all in-between. She failed to take the necessary preliminaries, due to her overwhelming exhaustion at the workload given to her as a graduating senior during her last semester of college. Please imagine the enormous guilt and self-flagellation that followed this one entirely human mistake. She is constantly berating herself for this one understandable error. Any trouble she has now, she says, is her own fault and is entirely deserved.
Rather than wait a semester to attend the graduate school of her choice, my friend is being forced to enroll in a community college, because her mother insists that she be in school right now right this very minute and how dare you not be working like a dog as well right now right this very second. My friend, who is currentlyt financially dependent on her mother due to the incredibly scarce employment opportunities afforded by our present economy, feels that she has absolutely zero say in how her life should be going right now (or ever). What her mother wants is what must happen, and she has absolutely no say in it whatsoever.
If it means missing a trip she's been planning on for months-- and having to pay for the plane ticket anyway, mind you-- then that's what must happen.
Never mind that most people take off six months, a year, between college and graduate studies, to learn a little about life, to work at McDonald's or to laze about, to travel to Europe on their parents' money or spend a summer scouring toilets, or what-have-you. Never mind that the early 20's is difficult enough for most of us without having any sense of adulthood or independence, or, indeed, any kind of autonomy whatsoever, be snuffed out by feelings of guilt for, hell, being alive, for not supporting her family, for finding it difficult to get work in New York City in the wake of a national disaster and massive unemployment.
Never mind all that. What mama wants, mama gets.
It's god-damned-un-fucking-fair.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:19 PM | shower me with attention
Ragtime the musical, or ragtime the genre?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:37 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:37 PM | shower me with attention
Stephanie can't come to Disney World with us.
I can't tell you how much this sucks.
Life has been downgraded slightly from sweet to bittersweet. I will now walk solemnly through the park, admiring the dank beauty of the decayed vegetation, but thinking how much Disney World will suck without Steph.
Hello, people with real problems? You may come and beat me up now.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:29 PM | shower me with attention
I can't tell you how much this sucks.
Life has been downgraded slightly from sweet to bittersweet. I will now walk solemnly through the park, admiring the dank beauty of the decayed vegetation, but thinking how much Disney World will suck without Steph.
Hello, people with real problems? You may come and beat me up now.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:29 PM | shower me with attention
Funny how little it takes for life to be sweet again.
Anyone care to go prancing hand-in-hand with my through a sodden Central Park?
No? I'll go alone, then!
Wheeeeee!!!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:06 PM | shower me with attention
Anyone care to go prancing hand-in-hand with my through a sodden Central Park?
No? I'll go alone, then!
Wheeeeee!!!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:06 PM | shower me with attention
Let me clarify:
I don't know Steve's sister Kat, but... see below.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:44 PM | shower me with attention
I don't know Steve's sister Kat, but... see below.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:44 PM | shower me with attention
I don't know this girl Katherine, but from what she's said here, I think I've finally found the twin that they switched Kirsten for at the hospital on July 11, 1979.
I would like to buy this woman a frozen hot chocolate and tell her to stop watching Howard Stern.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:22 PM | shower me with attention
I would like to buy this woman a frozen hot chocolate and tell her to stop watching Howard Stern.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:22 PM | shower me with attention
Well, I needed that, let me tell you.
I am amused by your conviction that anyone can pick up a guitar and just start playing it. (My uncle, who also taught himself, has a similar attitude. Can genius never see itself?) It's not like drawing or singing, which anyone with a voice or a hand can do-- some with technical skill and some without, but all potentially equal degrees of creative expression. To actually express oneself on a musical instrument, some basic minimum degree of technical skill, obtained only by an exact and monotonous learning/practicing process, is required.
But I'm willing to give it a shot, indeed I am. If I can screech along on my violin while Andie MacDowell talks in a movie, I don't see why I can't strum tunelessly and painfully on a guitar to the same purpose.
Mike is such a kind and open human being. If only he had a little bit more self-confidence.
Which reminds me of some wisdom passed on yesterday by Steve to me yesterday; something I found quite profound, actually:
I understand that self deprecative trait, all too fucking well,
he says,
but it is possible to have it and know that it's clouding your judgment, not clarifying.
It actually made me think, that.
Damned if I know what to do about my crippling self-worth kaleidoscope, though.
Moving on... last night, I fell asleep at 8 pm, without taking my Gleemonex, and wrenched myself out of bed at approximately 8 am this morning. I'm not falling-down tired today, which is good, but I hope my mom taped The West Wing for me like she promised.
Today at work I was in on a conference call at which I was expected to speak-- HA!! Arnold took over for me-- and was expected to submit An Official Request Form without ANY supervision-- HA!! If all the computers in the building explode, don't brame meeeee!-- and now I'm being asked, on top of all this brand new Scary Responsibility, to give completion time estimates on my work. Turns out, Alex confided in me, that some people are looking for a scapegoat after not having done their jobs, and the blame-dust is being subtly blown in my direction. Alex, stout-hearted, wonderful undercover primatologist, is doing her best to protect me from this potential evilness by helping me create a paper trail of my productivity. This is good, because I was beginning to smell something that reeked of Office Politics in the air yesterday, whereupon I was Subtly Blamed for not doing something that had never been given to me to do in the first place (but was presented as if it had been.) Thank goodness Alex is looking out for me-- because, these people should know that I am a temp! And I can quit at lunch.
This Office Politics stuff is for the birds, lemme tell ya.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:53 AM | shower me with attention
I am amused by your conviction that anyone can pick up a guitar and just start playing it. (My uncle, who also taught himself, has a similar attitude. Can genius never see itself?) It's not like drawing or singing, which anyone with a voice or a hand can do-- some with technical skill and some without, but all potentially equal degrees of creative expression. To actually express oneself on a musical instrument, some basic minimum degree of technical skill, obtained only by an exact and monotonous learning/practicing process, is required.
But I'm willing to give it a shot, indeed I am. If I can screech along on my violin while Andie MacDowell talks in a movie, I don't see why I can't strum tunelessly and painfully on a guitar to the same purpose.
Mike is such a kind and open human being. If only he had a little bit more self-confidence.
Which reminds me of some wisdom passed on yesterday by Steve to me yesterday; something I found quite profound, actually:
I understand that self deprecative trait, all too fucking well,
he says,
but it is possible to have it and know that it's clouding your judgment, not clarifying.
It actually made me think, that.
Damned if I know what to do about my crippling self-worth kaleidoscope, though.
Moving on... last night, I fell asleep at 8 pm, without taking my Gleemonex, and wrenched myself out of bed at approximately 8 am this morning. I'm not falling-down tired today, which is good, but I hope my mom taped The West Wing for me like she promised.
Today at work I was in on a conference call at which I was expected to speak-- HA!! Arnold took over for me-- and was expected to submit An Official Request Form without ANY supervision-- HA!! If all the computers in the building explode, don't brame meeeee!-- and now I'm being asked, on top of all this brand new Scary Responsibility, to give completion time estimates on my work. Turns out, Alex confided in me, that some people are looking for a scapegoat after not having done their jobs, and the blame-dust is being subtly blown in my direction. Alex, stout-hearted, wonderful undercover primatologist, is doing her best to protect me from this potential evilness by helping me create a paper trail of my productivity. This is good, because I was beginning to smell something that reeked of Office Politics in the air yesterday, whereupon I was Subtly Blamed for not doing something that had never been given to me to do in the first place (but was presented as if it had been.) Thank goodness Alex is looking out for me-- because, these people should know that I am a temp! And I can quit at lunch.
This Office Politics stuff is for the birds, lemme tell ya.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:53 AM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, January 09, 2002
Okay, who's looking for us?
Crazy talk.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:50 PM | shower me with attention
Crazy talk.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:50 PM | shower me with attention
I've fallen in love.
Oh, dear.
(Thanks a lot, Jen.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:48 PM | shower me with attention
Oh, dear.
(Thanks a lot, Jen.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:48 PM | shower me with attention
Dear Tiffany,
I don't know you. I'm sure you don't know me. Perhaps you're the person who stole my cell phone when I left it in psychology class on Monday, September 10th. Perhaps that was you, and you were too stupid to realize that of course I would get a new phone and have my old number switched over. Perhaps you are a stupid cow and did not realize this, and gave out your "new" number to your friends, and now you're too embarrassed to tell them that yours is a stolen cell phone, and so you let them think they're misdialing. A lot.
Or perhaps it's all a simple mistake. Perhaps you used to have my cell phone number, and now you have a new one but you forgot to update a group of your friends and relations approximately the size of Rhode Island.
Whatever the deal is, please, please have your friends stop calling my cell phone and asking for you.
Yes, please do, before I decide to amuse myself by telling them that I'm you, and that I, Tiffany, would dearly love to fuck their mothers with a hot curling iron.
Thank you.
Tavie
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:16 PM | shower me with attention
I don't know you. I'm sure you don't know me. Perhaps you're the person who stole my cell phone when I left it in psychology class on Monday, September 10th. Perhaps that was you, and you were too stupid to realize that of course I would get a new phone and have my old number switched over. Perhaps you are a stupid cow and did not realize this, and gave out your "new" number to your friends, and now you're too embarrassed to tell them that yours is a stolen cell phone, and so you let them think they're misdialing. A lot.
Or perhaps it's all a simple mistake. Perhaps you used to have my cell phone number, and now you have a new one but you forgot to update a group of your friends and relations approximately the size of Rhode Island.
Whatever the deal is, please, please have your friends stop calling my cell phone and asking for you.
Yes, please do, before I decide to amuse myself by telling them that I'm you, and that I, Tiffany, would dearly love to fuck their mothers with a hot curling iron.
Thank you.
Tavie
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:16 PM | shower me with attention
Thank you, God, for bringing Jen Pardilla to bloggerland. What a delicious long series of posts. And with her Japanese immersion, she appeals to both me and (has the potential to appeal to) my sister, and god knows we share precious few interests.
(Yes, Jen is an interest, like philately or web design...)
Yes, I'm posting a lot today, deal with it. It's keeping me awake.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:16 PM | shower me with attention
(Yes, Jen is an interest, like philately or web design...)
Yes, I'm posting a lot today, deal with it. It's keeping me awake.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:16 PM | shower me with attention
You know, speaking of Cute British Nerds, I really think that is my Ultimate Ideal Non-Dave Dream Man: a cute nerd, brown-haired, blue-eyed, glasses, British accent, works with computers (why??), music snob willing to teach me, rolled-up sleeves, jeans, thinks my bumbling incompetence is adorable and is constantly surprised by and impressed with my actual hidden abilities... (Note to self: gain some actual hidden abilities.) Oh, and loves my hair.
Why am I thinking about this?
WORK!!!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:04 PM | shower me with attention
Why am I thinking about this?
WORK!!!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:04 PM | shower me with attention
Ade and I were having a discussion about using coffee beans as beads for jewelry. I really would like a fragrant coffee-bean necklace, but it seems to me that there would be a problem in making a hole in a roasted coffee bean without it cracking.
A web search yielded a page that instructs on how to make a cappuccino lamp, whatever that is, and near the bottom they suggest drilling tiny holes in coffee beans to use as beads.
Anyone know if this sounds possible? And anyone happen to own a tiny drill?
Perhaps a trip to the dentist is in order...
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:50 AM | shower me with attention
A web search yielded a page that instructs on how to make a cappuccino lamp, whatever that is, and near the bottom they suggest drilling tiny holes in coffee beans to use as beads.
Anyone know if this sounds possible? And anyone happen to own a tiny drill?
Perhaps a trip to the dentist is in order...
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:50 AM | shower me with attention
Cute British Nerd just stopped by my desk and introduced himself. I have to sit down with him and go over his list of Crazy Nonsensical Computer Things to see if I've already typed them into my magic box. Why would I remember any of what I've typed into my magic box?
Does anyone realize that I don't know anything about computers?
Why are they giving me responsibilities that seem to require that I do?
I can see the conversation now.
"Did you enter these in?"
"Duh... they... all look the same to me."
Awkward pause.
"Are you sure you work here?"
Not to mention that, once again, as I introduced myself, I went through the whole "Hi, I'm Tavie-- uh, Octavia-- uh, whatever" thing. Further Adventures of Super-Incompetent Secret Spy Girl!
Why oh why oh me oh my oh can I not just sit at my little desk and listen to my little Loud Family and type my little bits of information into my little database and promptly forget about them?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:19 AM | shower me with attention
Does anyone realize that I don't know anything about computers?
Why are they giving me responsibilities that seem to require that I do?
I can see the conversation now.
"Did you enter these in?"
"Duh... they... all look the same to me."
Awkward pause.
"Are you sure you work here?"
Not to mention that, once again, as I introduced myself, I went through the whole "Hi, I'm Tavie-- uh, Octavia-- uh, whatever" thing. Further Adventures of Super-Incompetent Secret Spy Girl!
Why oh why oh me oh my oh can I not just sit at my little desk and listen to my little Loud Family and type my little bits of information into my little database and promptly forget about them?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:19 AM | shower me with attention
Oh my god, yes!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:05 AM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:05 AM | shower me with attention
If you people don't start blogging, I am going to do something unsavory with all of your templates.
And those of you whose templates I don't control will get the Flaming Bags of Poo Treatment.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:03 AM | shower me with attention
And those of you whose templates I don't control will get the Flaming Bags of Poo Treatment.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:03 AM | shower me with attention
(*$&#*&$^&@$^$(*&$^$&#%)!!@!#*&@($*&@($^@!^$&@$!&%!&!!!!!!!@$@#%*(&$%(*&$
Mother fucking complicated mother fucking time entry mother fucking system that I have mother fucking fill out months full of mother fucking back-time in until my mother fucking head explodes!
Tavie jumps up and down like Rumpelstiltskin, screaming and swearing and shaking her pudgy fists.
God damn mother fucking complicated mother fucking telephone system, I'm a mother fucking temp, do your own mother fucking bureaucratic bullshit, I get mother fucking paid by my mother fucking agency, mother fuckers!
(*&@#)&($^#@*&^#&%#&$@#($*&_($*&_#(*$#(%^#*&##&#&$@(*_@)%&#(*%#*&^%#*&%^*#@%#*&#%
Oh, well, the people who "trained" me were very nice, and one of them was quite cute.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:01 AM | shower me with attention
Mother fucking complicated mother fucking time entry mother fucking system that I have mother fucking fill out months full of mother fucking back-time in until my mother fucking head explodes!
Tavie jumps up and down like Rumpelstiltskin, screaming and swearing and shaking her pudgy fists.
God damn mother fucking complicated mother fucking telephone system, I'm a mother fucking temp, do your own mother fucking bureaucratic bullshit, I get mother fucking paid by my mother fucking agency, mother fuckers!
(*&@#)&($^#@*&^#&%#&$@#($*&_($*&_#(*$#(%^#*&##&#&$@(*_@)%&#(*%#*&^%#*&%^*#@%#*&#%
Oh, well, the people who "trained" me were very nice, and one of them was quite cute.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:01 AM | shower me with attention
This morning in the head:
Take me down, take me down
to halloo
cination town
Take me down, take me down
to halloo
cination town...
over and over and over. Thank you, Scott Miller, but this will have to stop.
I have to go to a {horrible face} training session {/horrible face} now.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:45 AM | shower me with attention
Take me down, take me down
to halloo
cination town
Take me down, take me down
to halloo
cination town...
over and over and over. Thank you, Scott Miller, but this will have to stop.
I have to go to a {horrible face} training session {/horrible face} now.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:45 AM | shower me with attention
Sleep, you maddening will-o-the-wisp, why do you taunt me so?
Why, when I try to sleep here, does everything I loathe about myself seep down like poison ink into my thoughts and maketh me to toss and turn and hate and hate and hate? That doesn't happen at Mint Manor.
Tomorrow will be another painfully sleepy day. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Tomorrow I have some sort of training session in some other building with some person I don't know wherein I have to learn how to use some stupid program I don't want to know about, and it'll probably be unduly complicated and I'll look incompetent and I'll stutter a lot and bob my head up-and-down-and-up-and-down as if I understand what is being said, my chins and blobby neck quivering with the effort of holding my exhausted skull aloft.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:46 AM | shower me with attention
Why, when I try to sleep here, does everything I loathe about myself seep down like poison ink into my thoughts and maketh me to toss and turn and hate and hate and hate? That doesn't happen at Mint Manor.
Tomorrow will be another painfully sleepy day. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Tomorrow I have some sort of training session in some other building with some person I don't know wherein I have to learn how to use some stupid program I don't want to know about, and it'll probably be unduly complicated and I'll look incompetent and I'll stutter a lot and bob my head up-and-down-and-up-and-down as if I understand what is being said, my chins and blobby neck quivering with the effort of holding my exhausted skull aloft.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:46 AM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, January 08, 2002
Check me out:
Tavie: You know how I said I didn't have a TSR for the first MFN move?
Arnold: Yes.
Tavie: Well, of course I did. That was the first one I did. That's the one that I learned all about TSR on.
Arnold: Ah ha! Good! Do you need a server list for another TSR?
Tavie: Yes. Yes, I do. This one I have here? It's wrong.
I'm just da shit here with my gobbledygook nonsense talk that doesn't make any sense. Look at me, using acronyms like I have half a clue! Look at me use the word "server" in a sentence!
I am da bomb, yo.
(I am so fucking bored. Why couldn't I be gifted with artistic and creative genius, instead of fast-typing tolerance-for-menial-tasks genius?)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:43 PM | shower me with attention
Tavie: You know how I said I didn't have a TSR for the first MFN move?
Arnold: Yes.
Tavie: Well, of course I did. That was the first one I did. That's the one that I learned all about TSR on.
Arnold: Ah ha! Good! Do you need a server list for another TSR?
Tavie: Yes. Yes, I do. This one I have here? It's wrong.
I'm just da shit here with my gobbledygook nonsense talk that doesn't make any sense. Look at me, using acronyms like I have half a clue! Look at me use the word "server" in a sentence!
I am da bomb, yo.
(I am so fucking bored. Why couldn't I be gifted with artistic and creative genius, instead of fast-typing tolerance-for-menial-tasks genius?)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:43 PM | shower me with attention
Je veux:
1. Une baignoire.
2. Un livre.
3. Une heure.
4. Maintenant.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:15 PM | shower me with attention
1. Une baignoire.
2. Un livre.
3. Une heure.
4. Maintenant.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:15 PM | shower me with attention
I know it's cold out, but would anyone like to go Roam, Roam, Roaming with me?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:38 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:38 PM | shower me with attention
This is a very cool movie that Ade showed me once when I went to her house. It was hypnotic. I would like to buy it.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:00 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:00 PM | shower me with attention
The Struggle of the Wannabe Artist: A Symphony in Three Parts.
First movement:
Wow, that's pretty. Look at that.
I wonder if I can do that.
Second movement:
Um.
I...
There was once...
I am a...
Sha na na na na na na...
No.
Wait, just give me a second.
Does anyone know how to hold a chisel?
I should learn a musical instrument.
How do you spell avante-garde?
Less.
More.
Wait.
Um.
Um.
No, no, no, no...
Third movement:
Fuck.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:53 AM | shower me with attention
First movement:
Wow, that's pretty. Look at that.
I wonder if I can do that.
Second movement:
Um.
I...
There was once...
I am a...
Sha na na na na na na...
No.
Wait, just give me a second.
Does anyone know how to hold a chisel?
I should learn a musical instrument.
How do you spell avante-garde?
Less.
More.
Wait.
Um.
Um.
No, no, no, no...
Third movement:
Fuck.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:53 AM | shower me with attention
I am so. Fucking. Bored. With. My. Life.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:46 AM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:46 AM | shower me with attention
Steve has gone back home.
Today I am all bloody hangnails and lukewarm coffee and gritty eyelids.
I was just reviewing my college transcript, and trying to decide whether it would be worth it to weep. I had such promise.
My sister is depressed. I will go home tonight and comfort her.
Where can I get some fitted, flared, multicoloured, striped clown pants in my size? Anyone know how to sew?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:33 AM | shower me with attention
Today I am all bloody hangnails and lukewarm coffee and gritty eyelids.
I was just reviewing my college transcript, and trying to decide whether it would be worth it to weep. I had such promise.
My sister is depressed. I will go home tonight and comfort her.
Where can I get some fitted, flared, multicoloured, striped clown pants in my size? Anyone know how to sew?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:33 AM | shower me with attention
Monday, January 07, 2002
It was really hitting me yesterday that my cats are much closer to the ends of their lives than kittenhood. They're 15. They're getting old. I do not want to think about this but I could not stop because Lily was sick yesterday.
Turns out they'd switched her food to something that had milk in it, and luckily they figured it out and switched it back. Also part of the problem was she's a very clingy cat and I'm never home anymore, and Kirsten, her one true love, was away in Seattle for a week, and the poor thing missed her a lot.
I know if one of them were to die anytime soon I'd feel even more horrible than I normally would, because I spend so much time away. Whenever I come home now Lily starts her big-eyed crying-begging-pleading-pawing-desperately-at-your-arm-for-attention routine. It's so cute and so heartbreaking. "Please don't leave me again!" she whimpers. "No one loves me!"
(Rosie, my diva, rarely acts so, even though she's always loved me best. I think she knows that my coming home means she has to give up her comfy spot in the center of my bed. So she'll give me one of those, "Oh, were you gone?" looks when I come in, but always waits until it looks like I'm going to stay awhile before seeking the Tavie-love.)
Anyhow, I was thinking these morbid things and the inside of my head last night turned into that episode of NewsRadio with Mike the Rat. I was thinking about Trillian and Raisin and Chelsea and Gremlin and Wog and Ginger and Lucky. It was freakin' Rainbow Bridge in my skull. No wonder I couldn't fall asleep until so late.
Tonight I'll go home and cuddle Riley, but tomorrow night I think I'll go other-home and see my girls. And my turtle who doesn't love me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:36 PM | shower me with attention
Turns out they'd switched her food to something that had milk in it, and luckily they figured it out and switched it back. Also part of the problem was she's a very clingy cat and I'm never home anymore, and Kirsten, her one true love, was away in Seattle for a week, and the poor thing missed her a lot.
I know if one of them were to die anytime soon I'd feel even more horrible than I normally would, because I spend so much time away. Whenever I come home now Lily starts her big-eyed crying-begging-pleading-pawing-desperately-at-your-arm-for-attention routine. It's so cute and so heartbreaking. "Please don't leave me again!" she whimpers. "No one loves me!"
(Rosie, my diva, rarely acts so, even though she's always loved me best. I think she knows that my coming home means she has to give up her comfy spot in the center of my bed. So she'll give me one of those, "Oh, were you gone?" looks when I come in, but always waits until it looks like I'm going to stay awhile before seeking the Tavie-love.)
Anyhow, I was thinking these morbid things and the inside of my head last night turned into that episode of NewsRadio with Mike the Rat. I was thinking about Trillian and Raisin and Chelsea and Gremlin and Wog and Ginger and Lucky. It was freakin' Rainbow Bridge in my skull. No wonder I couldn't fall asleep until so late.
Tonight I'll go home and cuddle Riley, but tomorrow night I think I'll go other-home and see my girls. And my turtle who doesn't love me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:36 PM | shower me with attention
So give me stuff for free
and if I do somehow
into the soft whites
of beautiful lies
stare down
stare
I don't apologize...
And I love her.
(And I love insane music phone-tag. too.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:32 PM | shower me with attention
and if I do somehow
into the soft whites
of beautiful lies
stare down
stare
I don't apologize...
And I love her.
(And I love insane music phone-tag. too.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:32 PM | shower me with attention
(a) It's snowing.
or
(b) It's snowing!
?
I haven't decided yet.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:21 PM | shower me with attention
or
(b) It's snowing!
?
I haven't decided yet.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:21 PM | shower me with attention
What makes an irrational fear irrational?
I have an intense hatred for rooftop playgrounds. I know exactly why I hate them. I think it's a good reason. Therefore, I wouldn't call my fear of rooftop playgrounds irrational.
This just occurred to me and I wanted to document it.
I wish I had a musket ball to play with, like the kind you buy in shops in Colonial Williamsburg.
Back to work.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:42 AM | shower me with attention
I have an intense hatred for rooftop playgrounds. I know exactly why I hate them. I think it's a good reason. Therefore, I wouldn't call my fear of rooftop playgrounds irrational.
This just occurred to me and I wanted to document it.
I wish I had a musket ball to play with, like the kind you buy in shops in Colonial Williamsburg.
Back to work.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:42 AM | shower me with attention
I already knew that Inverness was one of the best songs ever, but I have just decided that this song is god.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:21 AM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:21 AM | shower me with attention
Referrals:
Last 20 Searchengine Queries Unique Visitors
06 Jan, Sun, 00:21:26 Yahoo: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 00:33:06 Google: rosalind russell blog
06 Jan, Sun, 01:41:29 Yahoo: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 09:30:51 Google: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 09:46:49 Google: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 10:24:05 Google: Kitana Baker
06 Jan, Sun, 12:45:12 Google: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 15:02:39 Google: "Kitana Baker"
06 Jan, Sun, 15:37:12 Google: "kitana baker"
06 Jan, Sun, 15:42:22 Google: "mayor of simpleton video"
06 Jan, Sun, 16:55:07 Yahoo: "kitana baker"
06 Jan, Sun, 17:38:25 Yahoo: Kitana Baker
06 Jan, Sun, 17:44:42 Yahoo: Kitana Baker
06 Jan, Sun, 20:15:51 Google: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 21:26:39 Yahoo: "john cameron mitchell" "big river"
07 Jan, Mon, 00:23:49 Google: "Kitana Baker"
07 Jan, Mon, 01:55:12 Yahoo: Kitana Baker
07 Jan, Mon, 02:06:16 Google: Kitana Baker
07 Jan, Mon, 07:33:47 Google: kitana baker
07 Jan, Mon, 09:16:34 Google: google boobs
Who the fuck is Kitana Baker???
And isn't Rosalind Russell dead? How can she have a blog?
Is she dead?
Speaking of Auntie Mame, this story from my little love touched me deeply. Aren't we all Jenny, really?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:14 AM | shower me with attention
Last 20 Searchengine Queries Unique Visitors
06 Jan, Sun, 00:21:26 Yahoo: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 00:33:06 Google: rosalind russell blog
06 Jan, Sun, 01:41:29 Yahoo: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 09:30:51 Google: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 09:46:49 Google: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 10:24:05 Google: Kitana Baker
06 Jan, Sun, 12:45:12 Google: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 15:02:39 Google: "Kitana Baker"
06 Jan, Sun, 15:37:12 Google: "kitana baker"
06 Jan, Sun, 15:42:22 Google: "mayor of simpleton video"
06 Jan, Sun, 16:55:07 Yahoo: "kitana baker"
06 Jan, Sun, 17:38:25 Yahoo: Kitana Baker
06 Jan, Sun, 17:44:42 Yahoo: Kitana Baker
06 Jan, Sun, 20:15:51 Google: kitana baker
06 Jan, Sun, 21:26:39 Yahoo: "john cameron mitchell" "big river"
07 Jan, Mon, 00:23:49 Google: "Kitana Baker"
07 Jan, Mon, 01:55:12 Yahoo: Kitana Baker
07 Jan, Mon, 02:06:16 Google: Kitana Baker
07 Jan, Mon, 07:33:47 Google: kitana baker
07 Jan, Mon, 09:16:34 Google: google boobs
Who the fuck is Kitana Baker???
And isn't Rosalind Russell dead? How can she have a blog?
Is she dead?
Speaking of Auntie Mame, this story from my little love touched me deeply. Aren't we all Jenny, really?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:14 AM | shower me with attention
Today the tunes come from the Loud Family. Plants and Birds and Rocks and Things is very good indeed.
I need to do something huge and important. A blind man will want to write an epic poem about it.
Just saying, this is what I need.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:10 AM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:22 AM | shower me with attention
I need to do something huge and important. A blind man will want to write an epic poem about it.
Just saying, this is what I need.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:10 AM | shower me with attention
|
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:22 AM | shower me with attention
Djin's template is visible again, woo! Her advice about languages has me thinking further, although no conclusions have been reached yet. I would like to invent my own language for credits. Sadly, I do not see this being approved.
Arnold (work guy teaching me stuff) just used the word automagically and I almost snorted, but I didn't. I like that. I'm going to start saying that.
I was thinking of writing a play about a girl named Frumpy, but I have no plot and no ideas for one.
Sad.
Hey, it turns out Jesus' suspenders in Godspell are pink, not rainbow, so that should be easy. I have decided that I am going to assemble that outfit and just dress like a hippie-clown all the time. Yes I am, don't try and stop me. I need orange high-tops with big orange pom-poms on them next. The striped pants may be difficult to find in my size, though.
Last night I was sulky and abandoned the kids to nap in my room and watch Sex and the City, which still sucks and yet I need to watch it. I also found out that Cynthia Nixon was in Amadeus, and when I saw that clip I almost screamed, "OF COURSE!", because it's so obviously her yet I never realized it. ("I really can't tell you that, sir".) Later on I went downstairs and ate buffalo wings and watched a special about primates on the Discovery Channel with me pretties.
Steve had coffee ready for me this morning. Is he God?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:46 AM | shower me with attention
Arnold (work guy teaching me stuff) just used the word automagically and I almost snorted, but I didn't. I like that. I'm going to start saying that.
I was thinking of writing a play about a girl named Frumpy, but I have no plot and no ideas for one.
Sad.
Hey, it turns out Jesus' suspenders in Godspell are pink, not rainbow, so that should be easy. I have decided that I am going to assemble that outfit and just dress like a hippie-clown all the time. Yes I am, don't try and stop me. I need orange high-tops with big orange pom-poms on them next. The striped pants may be difficult to find in my size, though.
Last night I was sulky and abandoned the kids to nap in my room and watch Sex and the City, which still sucks and yet I need to watch it. I also found out that Cynthia Nixon was in Amadeus, and when I saw that clip I almost screamed, "OF COURSE!", because it's so obviously her yet I never realized it. ("I really can't tell you that, sir".) Later on I went downstairs and ate buffalo wings and watched a special about primates on the Discovery Channel with me pretties.
Steve had coffee ready for me this morning. Is he God?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:46 AM | shower me with attention
According to Purple Wyrm's geek test, I am:
43% - Junior Geek
Okily Dokily.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:18 AM | shower me with attention
43% - Junior Geek
Okily Dokily.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:18 AM | shower me with attention
Sunday, January 06, 2002
Swede gone. Atlantan and Missouran watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail. New Yorker sulking at computer.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:42 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:42 PM | shower me with attention
WOW, I can't believe sarah posted this, because I swear on a stack of bibles I was just telling Linn last night that my favourite thing from Sweden is this bathtub plug my mom got me when she went to Stockholm. I love taking a bath with the little dead guy floating in there.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:30 PM | shower me with attention
sarah cracks me up.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:25 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:30 PM | shower me with attention
Take the awesomemonkeys test!
sarah cracks me up.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:25 PM | shower me with attention
Actual line from LOTR I noticed last night:
We will taste man-flesh!
Aw yeah.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:17 AM | shower me with attention
We will taste man-flesh!
Aw yeah.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:17 AM | shower me with attention
I should pick a language to take so I can satisfy some of those damn core requirements. My language-taking history:
Grades 3-5: Spanish.
Grades 6-8: French.
Grades 9-10: Latin.
Since then: Naught.
Also, I am terrible with languages and deathly afraid of accents and pronunciation.
I guess I enjoyed Latin the most, because the first year it was fun and pronunciation was easy, but the second year it got really hard and I didn't really enjoy it anymore. But, strangely, I'm considering taking it as my language now. Am I utterly mad? God knows it won't help me if I decide to explore more anthropology. Would I really choose a language based on some vague, nostalgiac feelings of high school satisfaction? Or because my name is Octavia? Madness. I should take a language I might actually be able to use.
And figure this out: I don't like languages, but I love linguistics. WTF? (Can I just take a bunch of linguistics courses and have that be my language? Doubtful.)
Please advise.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:37 AM | shower me with attention
Grades 3-5: Spanish.
Grades 6-8: French.
Grades 9-10: Latin.
Since then: Naught.
Also, I am terrible with languages and deathly afraid of accents and pronunciation.
I guess I enjoyed Latin the most, because the first year it was fun and pronunciation was easy, but the second year it got really hard and I didn't really enjoy it anymore. But, strangely, I'm considering taking it as my language now. Am I utterly mad? God knows it won't help me if I decide to explore more anthropology. Would I really choose a language based on some vague, nostalgiac feelings of high school satisfaction? Or because my name is Octavia? Madness. I should take a language I might actually be able to use.
And figure this out: I don't like languages, but I love linguistics. WTF? (Can I just take a bunch of linguistics courses and have that be my language? Doubtful.)
Please advise.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:37 AM | shower me with attention
Tomorrow Linn goes back to Sweden and I am feeling separation anxiety, because we had such nice sister-talks and late-night giggle sessions just like days of yore, and I feel like I'm losing my sister again.
My real sister comes back from her trip to Seattle today, and, strangely, I find that I have missed her and look forward to seeing her... whenever I see her. (I'm here, of course, and have been for over a week.)
I suppose I must love her or something. Perhaps I love her more than I love anyone else in this entire world. Or maybe it's just gas.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:30 AM | shower me with attention
My real sister comes back from her trip to Seattle today, and, strangely, I find that I have missed her and look forward to seeing her... whenever I see her. (I'm here, of course, and have been for over a week.)
I suppose I must love her or something. Perhaps I love her more than I love anyone else in this entire world. Or maybe it's just gas.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:30 AM | shower me with attention
Gina, Linn and Steve are all over there watching Queer as Folk, which I don't watch. Linn and Gina are screaming at the screen, "DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!" I am mildly alarmed.
I am sitting here, toiling over my favourite hobby and singing to myself.
Urinetown was surreal. My reaction was similar to my reaction to The Royal Tenenbaums. Am I losing my taste for the surreal, or just chewing on something else right now, or...?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:27 AM | shower me with attention
I am sitting here, toiling over my favourite hobby and singing to myself.
Urinetown was surreal. My reaction was similar to my reaction to The Royal Tenenbaums. Am I losing my taste for the surreal, or just chewing on something else right now, or...?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:27 AM | shower me with attention
