--The main thing I hate about going to the dentist is that I can't make any jokes with someone's hands in my mouth. Good stuff, never to be heard. Then again maybe that's why people go into dentistry.
--Carmageddon!! IT IS REAL! I visualize it in one way as one of those black-border motivational posters, a satellite image of gridlocked streets with the caption reading "Clusterfuck, USA." Yesterday's mess was clearly a precursor to Carmageddon. I can only imagine what awaits for tonight's commute to North Hollywood. Since it hasn't officially begun, I can at least appreciate the unity it has brought to an ordinarily detached populace. There is something fun, a slight comraderie that comes with an entire city all talking about the same thing. I remember in hindsight that being one of the things I loved about New York, so much more often are there city issues that everyone is talking about. Anyway, I plan to board the doors and sit in the dark with my music, my whiskey, and a shotgun, watching disaster movies all weekend. Seriously though, I cannot fully express how much I am looking forward to a day or more of being at home and doing absolutely nothing. Or having nothing planned anyway. I have class in NoHo again Sunday night so, in theory, I will be braving the mean streets at some point.
--You know what I don't get? Cheesesteak. The name "cheesesteak" would imply that it's some sort of specialty meat that has been injected with cheese or is otherwise cheese-tasting. In fact, it is simply steak with cheese on top. It's a chopped steak sandwich with cheese on it. It sounds ludicrous, but it is actually possible to have a cheesesteak sandwich sans cheese. That ain't right. "Cheesesteak" is no more cheese-steak than any average cold cut sandwich is a "cheeseham" or a "cheeseturkey" sandwich.
--My state of being yesterday could best be described as emotionally volatile. Stepping out of my car at work, I was feeling on top of the world. And yet a switch was flipped in a matter of minutes as I got to my desk. My coworkers were back after being on location for two weeks. I greeted one of them with a boisterous "good morning!" Nothing. Silence. I repeated my greeting. Long pause, then a quarter-hearted "good morning." "So! What's happening?" Again, dead silence. "Really, that much going on already?" "I'm doing something!!!" I made an angry-cat noise and went to fill my water cup. I won't bore you with the rest. The point is this rudeness and negativity really pissed me off and ruined me for half the work day. I answered the negativity with my own. Finally, I realized how ridiculous it was to do so. I wrote myself a little letter, a pep talk if you will. Then I went outside, took a deep breath, felt the sun on my face, called my wife and all was fine again. I shot a short video (posted below) on my wine excursion last weekend that was intended for these exact moments. Maybe next time I will remember to use it and save myself the huffing and puffing.
--Speaking of my lovely wife, she's out of town. A man always learns things when his wife is out of town, aside from how much he needs his wife. You learn where things are kept. You learn the joyous freedom of being able to fart at will without persecution or condemnation. You learn that it can be an interesting challenge to see how long you can survive off the food on hand, without breaking down and going to the grocery store. You learn that her alarm clock has a projector (?!) built into it that creates a scary, giant, red, LED clock on the ceiling. Yeah, try seeing that for the first time out of the corner of your eye as you are knodding off. It set me back a few minutes. Anyway, that's all.
No comments:
Post a Comment