Monday, January 31, 2005

everything is out to get me

since the day I was born, I have waged a bloody and merciless war against inanimate objects. I seem to be losing.

certainly, the allied forces (me) haven't suffered the innumerable casualties of other great wars. my flattened pinky won a purple heart in the horrid battle against the banister, but has since healed enough to fight another day. after the infamous itchy-and-scratchy-esque confrontation with a rake, my skull was held as a prisoner of war for "...a few seconds before I came to." indeed, the only real fatalities my side has seen in this war were Pride and Dignity.

of course the good guys give as good as they get. the trail of dead rubix cubes, vacuum cleaners, and alarm clocks, however, have done little to deter subsequent guerrilla attacks from car doors, glue sticks, and my arch nemesis, the traffic light at delaware and delevan.

I'm sure CNN will break this story from the front-lines sometime today, but before you’re brainwashed by the inanimate objects' propaganda machine, I think you should know that a) the box of Smart Start threw the first punch, and b) the time-wasting harpy who is always telling me I can leave a message after the tone and then either simply hang up or press 5 for more options is surprisingly immune to my hexes.

the groom's well-dressed men

WEDDING UPDATE: the groomsmen will not be nekkid for the ceremony.

then again, we might start drinking early.

CORRECTED WEDDING UPDATE: the groomsmen, at this time, do not plan on being nekkid for the ceremony.

on saturday, da posse and I put on our big boy pants and got 70% of our wedding-specific duties out of the way with a trip to tuxedo junction. the morning started with a guinness and chicken finger brunch, where we traded bar tricks, and made fun of the nhl. manly things. grunt. louis was the last to arrive, having recently been revived from the dead of sleep, but he later made up for it by trying on all our tux possibilities. had it not been for lindsay, our tailor/saleswoman/babysitter, we would have made him model the red and pink number in the window. meh… there’ll be plenty of time for that at the stag.

our final choice walks a very thin line between james bond and head waiter, but I’m pretty happy with the overall product. now we just need to attend to the other 30% of our duties, which essentially add up to:

  1. show up on time
  2. not be nekkid.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

take my firewall... please.

ha ha! ya got me! good one, buddy! you, my friend, are the King of Internet Pranks! that virus you sired and left for me to stumble on is akin to a comical pie in the face! a squirt from a fake flower! an e-whoopee cushion we can all laugh about, even me, the unassuming target of your clever monkeyshines! you rascal, you!

oh-ho, but the joke is on you now! yes, you got me first - I’ll be jiggered if I know how, but you certainly succeeded in infecting my pc with your little ruse, but see how quickly the tables turn?

see how I run my virus-catcher? maybe I’ll even have to download a patch or take yet another half hour, following my help-desk's instructions. but at the end of the day, the disappearing ink has evaporated! my hand has stopped stinging from your cyber-joybuzzer! my desktop has been scrubbed clean and I can stand up walk away!

cue up the rim shot, 'cause here's the punch line: I can run symantec. you'll always be a clown.

bravo, bozo.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

garvs o' steel

guy puts on his helmet, picks up his hammer, jumps on his horse and rides into battle. "I AM THOR!", he shouts to his enemies, to which his horse replies, "then why don't you use a thaddle, thilly?"

this is not a funny joke. if you chuckled at it, thanks for the pity-laughs, but let's not kid ourselves. it's been replaying in my mind all day for two reasons: first, I saw the fantastic 4 movie trailer last night, so I have marvel heroes on the brain, and second, because I am, at the moment, so sore that tapping this post into my ipaq is (seriously) quite a challenge.

of course, when I'm ripped and I have a six pack (and a general state of health that doesn't attract vultures) it'll all be worth it. the last time I worked out with any real effort, I threw up in front of all the ladies on the stair-masters, thoroughly impressing them with my manly charm. (no, none of them was caroline, but that would have been about as appropriate.) that was so depressing for me that I stayed away from gyms for half a decade.

well, that and the unavoidable temptation of mighty taco.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

a little soft-shoe

something, my friends, is a-foot. I feel like a heel for failing to toe this topic into the over-arch-ing light of the royal toybox, but now I know in my sole that mrs. b needs the time-killing power of the blog to get through her malady, so this post is dedicated to her broken foot.

(an extra ten points to anyone who could fit "ankle" in there somewhere...)

Happy Lucky Funtimes Activity Book for Foot Patient:

So, you've gone and broken your foot. Congratulations, my friend, you've earned yourself what will inevitably feel like ten years of bed rest... But we here at the Royal Toybox (in cooperation with Happy Lucky Funtimes publishing) are here to help you pass the time. Try these fun games and you'll be back up and parading in no time!

Word Jumble:

Fun Facts:
4. Early Mediterranean civilizations considered the foot the most sacred of body parts, which you can see by how they decided to shape Italy.
5. A "baker's foot" is actually 13 inches long.

6. "Determined to stick to my {holiday} resolution, I {adverb} signed up for Irish Step Dance {plural noun} at the local college, {famous person's name} University. Thank {diety} I have two perfectly {adjective} feet!"

Word Search:
7. Can you find these words in the puzzle below?: sitting, napping, rest, get well

x x x x N x x x x x L
x x x x A x x x x L x
x MO R P H I N E x x
x x x E P x x W x x x
x x x S I T T I N G x
x x x T N E x x x x x
x x x x G x x x x x x

Can you find the bonus word???

1."foto" - it's french for photo.
2. "big toe" - occasionally used for balance
3. " ABDUCTOR HALLUCIS AND HALLUCIS BREVIS" - actually, they're spelled correctly, so this was a freebie. way to go!
4. I totally made this up.
5. made this up too, but it makes sense, yeah?

so there you have it! I'm sure the last three or four hours you spent in the "Happy Lucky Funtimes Activity Book for Foot Patient" went by quickly, and no doubt your tootsie's feeling world's better! make sure to pick up the next edition, where I'll have more games, puzzles and
brain teasers.

and maybe even a few more bad foot puns to boot.

Monday, January 24, 2005

the coaster collection post

I dream of a day when my walls, instead of simply providing shelter (although, this weekend, I'm thankful for that), will shine with the memories of a thousand drunken pub crawls. someday the bare spaces in my computer room will storyboard the raising of my spirits and the degradation of my brain cells.

how, you ask?

come on over to the tajmapartment and see how I've already started to make this dream a reality: beer coasters. about thirty of them, so far. each one dated, labeled, and signed by everyone who shared in that particular event. most of them sport the logo and/or catchy tag line used by the host bar, or else someone will have scribbled the location so I don't have a dozen identical rolling rock ads above my desk.

sometimes, and don't be too surprised by this, my choice of watering hole won't have the marketing wherewithal to have any beer coasters at all, so littered among these cardboard squares you'll see matchbooks, fliers, menus, even a flattened aluminum can. this past weekend, I added a dollar bill I found on the floor of colter bay.

weird coincidence: I wrote the above paragraphs on my ipaq before class. we had a guest lecturer in my entrepreneurship course who talked about a guy who turned a $750,000 business that manufactured stickers for sanding machines into a multi-million dollar venture that invented (and cornered the market on)... yup, beer coasters. freaky.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

especially since blockbuster dropped late fees...

you’ll notice, when it is finally published decades from now, that my unauthorized biography will contain a chapter on my top ten favorite movies (maybe chapter 14 or so: “Movies Garvey Liked”), and that this chapter will not include either Napoleon Dynamite or Shaun of the Dead. though both of these titles will show up on my blockbuster receipts for the weekend of 1/22/05 (that’ll be chapter 37: “Blockbuster Receipts Found in Garvey’s Wallet Next to His Wegman’s Coffee Club Card”).

that’s not to say that either of these movies were poor choices, in fact I really got into both of them, but neither even remotely lived up to the hype.

Napoleon Dynamite had the most to prove, and I will admit that I kind of went into this one with a universe of high expectations. go get it. rent it. make some popcorn and give it the time it deserves, but don’t wait for the laughs to hit you upside the head like it seemed to with all your friends. I hear a catch phrase from this movie laced into pop culture every day, so I was hoping for great one-liners, funny punchlines, and a bunch of weird-for-the-sake-of-being-weird situations. honestly, I was more impressed with the sweet story and the incredible effort the production team must have put forth to make it look like my high school. great movie, poor marketing.

Shaun of the Dead really just made me realize how funny the term “wanker” is. actually, in retrospect, I laughed at this movie more than I expected to. and when I wasn’t laughing, I was reminded of delicatessen, which had me lying awake for weeks in fear of being trapped in france when the apocalypse hits. mission accomplished on their part.

so, yeah, not "top ten" material, but both are worth renting.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

SUNY Rhapsody

the semester has officially begun, which means my apartment has swung full tilt back into grad-student-mode. I'd love to blame the sink full of dishes on my academically charged schedule, but that's more because my apartment has never gotten out of messy-bastard-mode.

the fridge is stocked with easily prepared foods, so I can just grab an impromptu meal and eat over the keyboard. the messes on both my actual and my digital desktop have been cordoned off into slightly more organized piles in preparation for 2005's additions. my new notebooks, pens, pencils, folders, and especially my text books have been purchased and are sitting on my office floor in target and UB bookstore bags, laughing at the aching checking account statement lying nearby.

finally, and most importantly, I’ve added a new task to the start-of-semester to do list. last night, while my reading waited patiently for me, I put together my first ever rhapsody playlist. for those of you who don’t know what rhapsody is, look into it. for those of you familiar with the program, please don’t point and snicker at my inexperience - I’m madly in love with rhapsody. I’m not exactly a late bloomer in the digital music genre; it’s just that up until this point, I’ve been so satisfied playing entire albums through rhapsody that I haven’t had to create a playlist yet. but last night, I just felt the need to get a few of my recent favorites into one compact area before I really tucked into my scholastics.

here’s what I came up with on the fly (you can only blog playlists of 25 songs or less, so this is in three parts. they're in alphabetical order, but I just play them randomly):
part one
part two
part three

this isn’t an exhaustive list, just a few that I love and a few that hoffman and lisa suggested. as much as I love rhapsody, it’s really only able to give me maybe 80% of the tunes I want to hear (which is a lot – I’m not complaining). so if you notice I don’t have anything from, for instance, the beatles, it isn’t because the fab four are bad study companions, but just because they haven’t been rhapsodied yet. I’ll repost as this list grows/shrinks/changes. suggestions?

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

four oh in oh five

you heard me. michael joseph garvey jr. will finish his fourth and final MBA semester with all A's. I say this with all the confidence of a student who has already successfully completed the term, including all final exams, even though it's 10am as I’m writing this after my first class of the semester. well, there's a lot to be said for optimism.

I do have some justification for my goal, or rather, I'm not just aiming high in hopes that an eternally slumbering Type A personality might suddenly awaken within me, having heard its "four oh" battle cry... although, now that I mention it, that would be sweet. no, in fact, I can cite two reasons why I can guarantee perfect marks this semester:

1. I'm a 4th quarter team. check out my report cards starting as far back as mrs. farmer's second grade and you'll see that the last part of the year, the last year of the degree was always my best. granted, it was never straight A's, but, c'mon... I was an actor - we only pretended to be smart.

2. it wouldn't matter, except for bragging rights. yup, since the transcript for my law school applications has already been submitted, this semester is akin to those episodes of west wing that really just served to connect the last one to the next one. and for some reason, when there's nothing but rep riding on a bet, count on me as your ringer. I still contend I won the fantasy football championship simply because we didn't put any money on it.

3. yeah, I know I said I only had two reasons, but this one just occurred to me and it's good enough to withstand your spanish inquisition jokes. The Mike Garvey When It Rains It Pours Phenomenon: I first noticed this little joy because women would only pay attention to me as soon as I started a serious relationship. bad news comes in threes for some people, but it comes in sevens or eights for me. but it recently hit me that it was a two way road. good news begets good news begets good news, etc. test it out sometime: throw a water balloon at me and six others will fly from the surrounding ether. or, preferably, give me a blueberry pop-tart, and by day's end I'll inexplicably have half a dozen more. since this year already has four or five really good things happening in it, I’ll put money ten to one on a good report card.

…just as soon as that Type A personality wakes the hell up.

Saturday, January 15, 2005

jury doodie, conclusion

in short, the guy was not guilty, not guilty, not guilty, guilty, and guilty. he deserved worse, but somehow I think his final uppence has yet to come.

the guy pushed his wife down a flight of stairs, and then stole her money and her car to buy crack. he broke a no-contact order of protection by writing a letter to his 12 year old daughter. on the scales of justice, the content of the letter is irrelevant, but it was hard to ignore the blatant threats and manipulating tone he conveyed. poor kid.

it breaks my heart to say it, but it came down to he said/she said, and both sides were crack-addled drunks so there wasn't a whole lot of credibility to fall back on. the prosecutor was only able to prove two of the five counts on the indictment.

I feel so dirty about it all.

here's something weird, though: I’m not as turned off by litigation as I thought I was going to be. the sucky thing about being on a jury is that it isn't your job to decide between "he did it" or "he didn't do it", but rather between "guilty" or "not guilty". if anything, this sunshine family adventure has shown me that if I’m ever going to be in a situation like this again, I’d rather be one of the lawyers. or the judge – this would also be preferable.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

jury doodie, part II

day two. or day three, technically. or day 4 if you- nevermind. it's thursday and I'm still juror #11.

this absolutely sucks. I wish I could tell you more about the case, since it would be really nice to share the burden, but until the gavel comes down, just know that a) this sucks the ever-living ass of the world and b) you need to appreciate your life more. not in comparison to me, but I'd put good money on the fact that your life is the land of milk and honey compared to the two sides in this conflict.

1.) Bathroom breaks: don't need to pee? yes you do. no, you really do. bathroom breaks are akin to visitation rights for prisoners, if for no other reason than it gives you a change of pace. and also, these pee vacations happen on an irregular schedule, so think ahead unless you want to re-color the water in the jury pool. there's a "hung jury" joke in there somewhere, but I'm going to leave it alone.

2.) Breathe: seriously, you get so sucked into a testimony that you forget these things. 2b.) ignore the heavy breathing guy who is prone to whistle-boogers sitting behind you. I hate that guy...

3.) Boredom: bring something to read/do/eat/play/otherwise hold your attention. and for the love of God Almighty, stop looking longingly over my shoulder at my precious ipaq! get back! mine!

4.) Brown bag it: actually, screw that. I hereby proclaim that any calories consumed while serving on a jury are negated by the suckiness of said duty. go get chinese food or a hot dog. or both.

5.) Buffalo degrees of separation: here's a fun game to play after you've exhausted other mundane topics like movies, sports, and downtown parking. everyone in buffalo knows everyone else within two degrees. you work with my old college roommate. you shop at my uncle's store. you teach my sister freshman english. after this little adventure, I'm two degrees away from rachel dratch, and everyone else is at most two away from hillary clinton.

man, that’s it for today. one more thing – expect to be dead tired when you get home. can’t tell you why; just take my word for it.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

jury doodie

at the moment: I am breaking the law, doing my most sacred of civic duties and contemplating both running for potus and moving to canada, all at the same time. and it's only 10am.

right now, it's wednesday morning, and I'm seated at a table with 11 other well dressed ladies and gentlemen who are all wishing they'd brought more to read. remember a few weeks ago, I told you I got jury duty? well, guess who got picked to sit in a criminal case. I can't tell you too much about it until the case is over (because you know these judges have nothing better to do than scan weblogs) but since I'm not exactly supposed to have internet access right now anyway, I'll let you in on a few nuances of the system I've noticed thus far.

my favorite part was yesterday when 200 of us were kept in the waiting room with nothing more than a vending machine, a tv tuned to cnn, and a half a billion copies of "Essence" (halle berry and will smith were on the cover). I read somewhere that buffalo is one of the most wireless-internet-accessible cities in the world, and thank the saints for it, because the jury waiting room and my ipaq became quick friends.

anyway when we first got there, the bailiff, who looks nothing like richard moll (did anyone else know his character's full name was "nostradamus 'bull' shannon"?), threw in a video tape that explained how the whole jury thing was gonna go down. it kind of reminded me of the safety videos airlines use sometimes - hey, one less thing the accompanying professionals don't have to bother with. except that this one was a half hour long and featured ed Bradley discussing the justice system as a whole and... wait for it... DIANE SAWYER telling us all about the history of the american "trial by jury". I swear, you cannot call yourself a connoisseur of tv cheese until you hear ed bradley (I swear I'm not making this up) say the words "so you've been called for jury duty..."

decades from now, social scientists will marvel at the part of this film where they reenacted a medieval "trial by ordeal". since the guy sank to the bottom of the lake instead of floating, he was innocent, and the peasants rejoiced. I was waiting for one of them to shout "he turned me into a newt!"

by about 2pm, they called my group in for selection. there were about 50 of us still there, but a couple were excused right off the bat. this, my friends, is where my brain split into two equal and opposing factions. my first instinct was to hope for dismissal. I mean, c'mon, who wants to sit on a jury when you've got a new copy of diablo II waiting back at the bodega?

but then my other self raised a valid point: it was either ben franklin or a bumper sticker on a pick-up who said: freedom comes at a price. and though this phrase is most often used by people justifying US global policy, I think whoever said it first meant that the government has to be participatory to work. we have to pay taxes. we have to vote. we have to give up an occasional day of playing diablo II to sit in a room with 199 other people making fun of ed bradley.

and besides, I might get a good post out of it.

so, I kicked into batman mode. how do I get on this jury? what are the other people saying that's getting them noticed? should I mention the lawyers in my family? how about my own legal aspirations? where do I need to move the pieces in this battle of psychological chinese checkers in order to be chosen as one of those lucky 12?

by the time I'd figured out a strategy, it was 5pm, the jury had been chosen (me included), and I was being shuffled out the door with instructions to return in the morning. yes, by virtue of sitting there and saying nothing, I became one of 12 Angry Men. (actually, there are five women, and only one is really mildly perturbed, in case you're wondering.)

there was certainly a quick, fleeting moment where I enjoyed my success as though I'd just landed a part in a sorkin production, or had been accepted to notre dame, etc... but then it passed and all I could muster to mark my apparent judicial aptitude was to mutter "sonofa..." under my breath and grimace in pain as I lashed out at a nearby mailbox. the mailbox had it coming, I whimpered.

soooooo, here I sit. breaking the law because I'm not supposed to have internet access, but upholding my most sacred of civic duties (diane sawyer says it's more important than voting... neener-neener). I'll tell you more about it over the weekend, unless it turns out I'm gone AWOL and I'm running through canada.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Monday, January 10, 2005

stop by oliver's if you don't believe me

I am proud of all my sibs, but my mind has been drawn more and more to cecilia and her adventure as a pastry chef lately. I’m downright envious.

no, it isn’t that I want to be a cook – but if iron chef ever decides to do a “cereal” episode, I would rule supreme – it’s more that she made the leap of faith and is actually heading towards her dream job. don’t get me wrong, it isn’t like I’m going into a career that I hate, in fact I’m following my dream job too, but c is going to be an artist, and has figured out how to make money at it.

I was an actor for a while. I wasn’t too bad at it, but I think most of my success was due to the right-place-right-time factor. I moved to chicago after graduation to give it an honest shot, but didn’t get much farther than community theatre. hey, I tried and decided the career wasn’t for me. it turned out the dream I wanted – a family, a house, two cats in the yard, etc. – proved too strong, and simply unattainable as an actor. and I knew I wasn’t done with my education yet, so I came back to buffalo and here I am.

but cecilia has her head on straight, is working her ass off, and is going to become a world-famous chef because she’s too good not to.

and in the meantime, she’s making me a wedding cake for free, which is awesome.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

dentist visit 3 of 5

I love my dentist. so much so that I’m visiting her every week or so these days. but that’s only because I’m making up for four or five years (I honestly don’t remember) of dental negligence.

I think my most recent visit fulfilled my penance, though, since the kind and gentle doctor drilled and filled TWO cavities... with no anesthetic.

that’s right. I’m a manly man. pain? bring it on. the marathon man was a wussy.

okay, okay, they were barely superficial marks, and if my dentist were to chime in here she’d call me a wussy for even mentioning them. I’m not going to lie, I hate pain. in my fantasies I can shrug off bullet wounds while saving the hot chick, but in reality I’ll bitch like a little girl if my watch band gets too far up my wrist. but hey, I did get the hot chick...

speaking of hot, I went to see pippin at the lancaster opera house last night, featuring my future-sister-in-law. fosse would have been proud, but that certainly didn’t reflect in the faces of the geriatrics who were expecting to see flowers, lace and lollypops. I’d never been to the LOH before, but from what I’m told, this isn’t exactly their typical production. I say, good for them. push the envelope. ignore the status quo. throw caution to the wind and conformity on the wayside.

I may not know art, but I know when I like mostly naked dancing women a lot more than flowers, lace and lollypops.

Saturday, January 08, 2005

the washington post

my trip to DC was incredible, and even though I’m a few days late reporting on it, I think it still deserves a few inches room in the toybox. let’s start this production at the beginning. the lights come up on a beautiful stage set for an engagement party. our characters mingle, chicken satay in one hand and expensive hooch in the other. garvey and his mom catch up…

Mom: oh hey, I’m going to Washington DC to see Higgins get sworn in!
Me: nice! You got me a ticket, right?

yup, that’s right. I only got to go to washington because I invited myself. I think that’s how lincoln got there too. his mom and dad were getting ready for a trip to the capital, locking up the log cabin, crossing tasks of to-do lists written on a shovel, and abe pretty much muscled his way onto the stagecoach. hey, these are the things the parents of future presidents have to put up with. vote garvey, by the way.

anyway, you’ve already had a taste of my trip there. lisa and I flew independence air and made friends with an attendant who loved her job a little too much. luckily, someone hit us with knockout gas as soon as we got onto the plane, so all I remember is Great Big Sea playing on lisa’s ipod. (we bought a splitter so we could both listen to it – this is technology that needs to go back in the oven for a few more minutes.)

since we took an earlier flight, lisa and I had a few hours to walk around before my parents touched down. we left our luggage at the hotel, picked a direction and ended up at jed bartlet’s place. now, we were right in the middle of DC, where you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting something historic and monumentish, but we seriously started walking at random and would have walked right up to the steps of the white house except that I’m not:
A) able to walk through big fences
B) bulletproof, and/or
C) a squirrel

but, hey, I was more than happy to gaze at the house from pennsylvania ave. actually, they were setting up bleachers either for a really big outdoor basketball game or the inauguration so we watched that for a little while and then got tired of seeing the capital set up for history and found a starbucks. we weren’t really able to get too close to these structures anyway, again, since neither lisa nor I have the security clearance of the squirrels. man, their lobbyist must be really good.

that night, we all went to nora, a restaurant in georgetown surrounded by extremely affordable housing. actually, no, the quality/price of these houses were beaten only by the amount dad must have paid for the wine we drank that night.

okay, so the next day, tuesday, was when the real patriotism started. that’s when we got up, shook off the expensive wine hangover, and risked the 65 degree january weather as we walked up to the new higgins office. the plan was to watch the inauguration on TV from the comfort of this 10 foot by 10 foot room with the other 36 higgins supporters, because evidently we just weren’t cool enough to actually see it live. and anyway the guy with the gavel would have been all “Mr. Higgins, I hope you brought enough constituents for everyone…” and brian would have been like “guys, I told you not to embarrass me!” and I would have been all “this place is deeaaaaad anyway” and then I’d go back to nora for more ice wine.

I’ll bet you anything the squirrels were allowed in there.

after that we went to a little reception where my mom was able to complete all of her life goals by meeting hillary clinton. yeah, take that squirrels, I got to shake the lovely ms. clinton’s hand! she really did look like ana gasteyer.

the rest of the trip was a blur, and since this post is already bigger than higgins’s new office, I’ll close here. everyone needs to go to DC, by the way. regardless of how you feel about the president, or the government, or the state of things in general. “I love my country so much, man. Like an exasperating friend.” go see the Vietnam memorial with your dad, and the WWII memorial with someone who knows what the other six pillars represent (in my case, that was the same person). go see the archives, go see Arlington, and go see the Lincoln memorial. sorry you can’t get any closer, you’re not a squirrel.

(lisa took this pic. I was afraid the squirrel was going to claim its right to prima nocte.)
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Friday, January 07, 2005

mr garvey goes to washington

ed. note: I wrote this post on monday morning, while waiting for my flight to washington dc. unfortunately, dc has exactly zero wireless hubs, so I wasn't able to log on until now. yup, even though I’ve been home since tuesday, I haven’t been able to update the toybox until now because I’ve been out of town. live in that logical conundrum.

the plane is still on the ground, but I’m already in another world: the wonderful and mysterious land of Beeyen Ai-ay. here, people travel by foot (from one gate to the next, from the gift shop to the shoe-shine guy, etc.) but that's expedited by moving sidewalks. the man's mall will most certainly have moving sidewalks. this land has its own value of money (the US dollar has fallen against it, evidently), its own health care system (band-aids and dramamine are available at the news stand) and an extremely thorough Department of Shoe Inspection.

today, I’m playing the part of american citizen and flying to our nation's capital. this, by the way, is awesome. I love the idea of america. I love this country, and though the current administration and I are hardly the best of friends, I am and forever will be a yank patriot.

that said, I feel downright honored because tomorrow I get to put on my sunday best and attend a congressional inauguration. how cool is that? I feel like norman rockwell should paint me! I feel like a school house rock cartoon might be in order! I feel like another $7 coffee before my flight takes off, so I’m going to cut this off here. damned capitalism.

Sunday, January 02, 2005

the insomnia post

heartburn has struck, my friends. heartburn has struck so badly that even I cannot sleep. this simply doesn’t happen. I can sleep through thermonuclear war. I can sleep while howler monkeys are sticking me with rusty needles. I once slept through an episode of the nanny. (thank God.) the pleasure of insomnia is one I have not had.

and yet, here I am, typing away at my computer at 2:45am because my tums refuses to kick in. let’s see if we can isolate the cause, shall we?

maybe it’s stress… yeah, no. classes are over. no more christmas responsibilities. I’ve spent the last few days catching up on leisure reading, so I doubt it’s because I’m running myself ragged.

maybe it’s my altered sleeping schedule. perhaps the Goddess Circadia is pissed at me because I’ve been up so late every night of the last week or so. then again, it’s not like I’ve ever had a “normal” sleeping pattern (certainly not during the semester), so I think the goddess is off the hook.

oh. waaaait... maybe – and this is a long shot – just maaaaaybe it was the tureen of chili that the battaglias fed me earlier tonight. you know, the one I topped off with red hot and cheese and chased with a beer and a coffee.

SO worth it.