Monday, September 25, 2006

Maybe the car has vasculitis

Hey there.

So, it's been five months since last I posted here, and something tells me I wasn't much missed. (The biggest clue: not one person has asked when I was going to update again. Not even me.) But, lack of interest has never stopped me from opening my mouth before (a grumble of agreement from everyone who's ever spoken to me in my life), so I'm back. We'll see how long it sticks.

Lot's changed since last we spoke. Well, actually, that isn't true. I still ramble incoherently about things no one cares about, I still hate the President, I still want all members of Nickelback to die in a hideous conflagration that, tragically, also leaves Scott Stapp and Fred Durst critically injured. I'm still broke. And I still deliver pizza.

But some things have changed. For example, the Former Roommate I'm Not Allowed to Name (FRINAN) no longer lives here. Stephen -- who, to my knowledge, has no objection to his name appearing here -- is now my roommate.

I cut my hair a few months ago. I did this willingly, gladly, and without any outside pressure. And if I could take it back, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Not because I miss it -- hell no, I love having short hair again, and I don't know what the hell I was thinking before. (It bothers me to think I let my hair grow for three years just because I didn't feel like getting a haircut.) No, I wish I'd left it long because it would have saved me three months of having this conversation over and over and over:

THEM: Wow, you cut your hair!
ME: Yeah.
THEM: It looks good!
ME: Thanks.
THEM: Why'd you get it cut?
ME: I don't know. [insert placeholder non-answer here. Usually, "It's too hot for long hair."
THEM: Yeah. You gonna let it grow out again?
ME: I don't know. [think but do not say, "I haven't really put a lot of long-term planning into my hair."]
THEM: [stupid, boring story about when they had long hair]
ME: [pray for death]

I've gone through that about two thousand times since July. Kill me now.

I also have a new car. The piece-of-shit white Contour was repossessed just not for me, ya know? So I know have a green...something or other. Uh, Nissan...Sentry? Sentra? Sentro? Something like that.

Steve and I, fresh off recent House marathons, performed a differential diagnosis tonight on that very car, in fact. The patient presented with an involuntary twitch to the left, which progressed to rapid and uncontrollable convulsions when stressed. Dr. Steve quickly surmised that it was probably a flat spot on one tire -- and, indeed, an examination revealed a rather pronounced such spot on the right front tire. (I was able to diagnose the car's other problem on my own: a headlight is out. Prescription: a new light. Yay for me.)

Also, I spent the three hundred dollars hindsight tells me I should have used for a car payment on a shiny black 5G iPod. Oooh, yes. It's a rather nice piece of technology -- it makes work so much easier to get through when I have 11 days of music available to me at all times, without fumbling through hundreds of CDs, as before. (Which of arguable value when I listen to Evanesence's "Call Me When You're Sober" 38 times -- literally! -- in two days. But.)

That is all for now, my children. I will return soon with a few things I've been working on. The first is a piece called "Don't Tell Me What Damon Lindelof Can't Do," a passionate defense of Lost, the best show on television. I say "defense" because FRINAN is always eager to remind how much the show sucks. But it doesn't. No no no.

The other is, at long last, episode 8 of That's When I Reach for My Revolver. And I'm really working on it -- and it's a big one. Here's a side-by-side comparison between this ep and the only other one I have on my hard drive.

Episode 6: "Sitting, Waiting, Wishing":
Pages: 28
Words: 5,234

Episode 8: "What Do You Want From Me?" (unfinished):
Pages: 41
Words: 7,567

So there.

You'll hear from me when one or the other is finished.

(Oh, and maybe I'm a little late jumping on the bandwagon here, but Sudoku is probably the most relaxing intellectual activity known to man. Where has this been all my life?)

(Answer: Japan. And Indiana, apparently.)

No comments:

Post a Comment