So why did it cross the road, really?

My life has always been touched with a hint of the absurd. As a child I found great pleasure in lying on my back, legs and arms pointing stiff into the air - explaining to anyone who cared to stop and wonder that I was a dead horse, of course.

Give me an inch and I'll run with a scenario - seeing it unfold in technicolor in my imagination, full text and sound effects added in little bubbles in the perimeters. More often than not I start explaining these scenes - hands waving, eyes sparkling in a feverish insanity of creation only to come down to earth to a view of glazed blinking and nervous giggles. The few who follow me through these manic journeys tend to become my bosom buddies - cartoony insanity is a rare, yet lovely, commodity.

In any case, I do find it amusing to read a really badly written book detailing, amongst other things, the vampiric pregnancy and subsequent bloody delivery via Daddy-Vampire biting through the womb of Mommy to release magical Baby-Vampire (OMGspoiler! They live happily ever after!!!1 lolz! ! !). It's not so much the irony of reading it when I did that draws me in, but the lure of the absurd. The ability to look at myself from the outside and snort. Ha!

So yeah. Nothing much of importance to say here. Just wanted to explain why I drew a strange drunken chicken who showed up in the midst of purple puppy-saur land on a sunny afternoon, wondering cluckingly to itself about the time space continuum.

*nods*

I'm glad you understand now.

sing a song for me

There are quite a lot of things on my mind at the moment - a few might have beens, a few more what will bees, and the general state of what is now(s). The thoughts build up there in the strange place between heart and brain, rolling around in the dust, gathering bits and pieces from older leftover thoughts and growing in proportion - way beyond their intended state.

Sometimes I feel like the thoughts are like marbles, hard and round and rolling around loudly as I shake my head - eventually becoming lost under the fridge forever. (I wonder what a mind fridge looks like... Either I'm totally lost in my pseudo metaphor or I'm on to something. Something about cooling units and... stuff. *waves all-encompassing hand*). But not tonight - tonight the thoughts are amorphous things that gather energy from every added thought until my mind burns, even sizzles, with the heat of them right there beneath the surface.

A main thought at the moment is "but I was so fucking happy!" or other variants of "it's not fair dammit." But really, new developments don't necessarily mean the end of happiness. It's just that when I'm in this state of mind I tend to get stuck on the process, rather than the eventual outcome.

It will be alright though, in the end. Another entry in the lifebook and all that jazz. This too shall pass (pass the salt, I have an open wound that needs a-treatin'). It's just that I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to. And so the thoughts gather heat.

SMX

So there's a guy. Well, let's capitalize him - A Guy, because it's not really the specific dude who matters, but rather the idea of him. A Guy changes in identity every once in a while, depending on circumstances (usually involving copious amounts of alcohol) and coincidence -- the planets align themselves in such a manner (a manner of alcohol!) and events run a predestined course which ends in the bedroom. Or maybe in the public bathroom... *shifty eyes*. Whatever floats your boat.

Now, the dilemma is of course the determiner, because if we were speaking of The Guy, everything would be different (except the alcohol - that's a constant.). A Guy is much more fluid and changing, and has a whole different set of "rules" to him, which are hard to keep track of. In this case, A Guy walks into a bar one late night, and perhaps this is the second such night, and invites you back to his love nest. Things progress in the expected manner, and much fun is had, weehee!

Fast forward a few days and boredom, insomnia, horniness, tingly bones, excitement etc all coalesce in the form of a deep insistent desire to send a text message. An sms, or rather an smX (Gettit? See what I did there? With the X???) which wouldn't necessarily be a booty call per se, but rather some form of primitive flirting, and attention grabbing. The smx would of course be pondered over and thought through, and would emerge perfectly formed from the thigh of Zeus - "So..... Sup? *insert eyebrow waggle here*"

Then what? Ah! That is the question of course. You never can tell what the smx will bring, but in most cases it won't be exactly what you want and need at that late hour of the night and then you're left with a slight bitter taste in your mouth. "Well, wasn't that a waste of time and energy. Meh." Because of course you need him to answer all the bazillion layers of subtext you put into that text, and really - there aren't many that can drop into your subconscious like that and dig you right away. And if they could - well, then perhaps there would be a question of determiner once again.

So instead of writing to A Guy, I write to You, oh non-existent-yet-perhaps-future-reader. Whaddaya say? Wanna take a bath?

Hold still so I can count you, dammit!

Yeah, I dunno either.

Insomnia is a funny thing with me -- well, not exactly "funny ha ha" really, more along the lines of "funny, buggeringmothershitdamn."

Every once in a while, for no real rhyme nor reason - I just can't fall asleep. Or rather won't. I suppose if I actually would make the impossibly long 2 second trip from this here seat into my bed, I'd eventually lose consciousness. But the trouble is that some strong part of me just doesn't wanna. I wander around pondering metaphysical questions like: If I open the fridge one more time, will something desirable suddenly materialize? Not to mention introspective ponderings such as: What would I look like if I shaved off all the hair on my body? and waxing poetic about the state of the world around us; Damn, it's hot tonight.

Important and life altering thoughts to be sure.

In any case, I often spend half the night poking into thoughts and things better left un-poked, until finally collapsing into bed in a disgruntled heap, muttering under my breath about various deprivations and their destructive outcomes.

Then I roll my eyes at myself for using so many Big Girl words when I'm supposed to be feeling veeeerrrry sleeeeeeepy.

Although at the moment my right eyeball burns like a mother when I roll it since I stupidly blinked while soaping my face in the shower, and got the evil facial soap suds (which MUST be made of pure acid) in my eye. Note to self --> wash face with eyes closed next time, kthnx.

So, I shall bid you ("you") good night, with a definite lack of eye rolling.

And remember - panda sheep is watching you over his shoulder. I'd be careful if I were you. (you!)

I always identified best with Grumpy.

Sometimes the only thing one can do is bang ones head repeatedly upon ones desk.

One can also overabuse the use of "one".



Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

It opened with a phone call that woke me up at the ungodly hour of half past noon -- not just any phone call, but an IRATE phone call (second in annoyance level only to the Sudden Death phone call) accusing me of something that did not happen. Spent the rest of the day having Stern Conversations with the people involved in order to clear the air (smelly misunderstandings are plentiful at the workplace) and feeling alternately smug (for being in the right) and grumpy (for being caught in the situation in the first place).

Harrumph, I say. Harrumph!

It continued with boring work matters (I'm a supersecretary of sorts - an unsung hero of the masses) that will most definitely come back to haunt me with their unfinished edges in the next few days, not to mention the constant worrying if I'm "alright" from co workers who seemed surprised at my mumbling and grumbling under my breath. (Unseen stabbing motions with scissors towards the backs of said co workers helped immeasurably).

Also to make matters worse I didn't consume any alcohol today (!) AND I heard from a voice from the past; (sooo, uhh. Heya pretty lady. Sup?) Voices from the past also tend to make me grumpy -- my days as Lady Shagsalot make for interesting stories perhaps, but weren't necessarily my best.

I might just blame it on the moon phase. Or maybe on the Boogie.

An introduction of sorts

Once again I find myself introducing myself to the void.

So, uhh. Hi!!

*waves manically*

*notices no one is there*

*scratches head in a nonchalant manner as if manic waving was somehow something you imagined because hey, look how scratchy my head is, I must have just been stretching... yeah... stretching... and well, maybe there was a bee, or something. OMFG, LOOK, A BEE!!*

I lost the whole 3rd person thing there, huh? I knew that damn degree in English was worthless.

In any case, hey. Sup? I'm me. If you've arrived here you probably know of this "me" already, and if you stick around you'll probably learn more.

Not exactly sure yet what this blog will contain - most likely many links to weird and wonderful things (more weird than wonderful since that's just the way I roll), hopefully some of my comic-like drawings (which is my real agenda here, but I know I tend to digress) and a shit load of run-on sentences (with a blatant overuse of brackets).

I'll explain about the name next time. (Ooh, the suspense!)