Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Believe When I Say
My god. My parents just left after living with us for 21 days, and I must say that it was a very difficult month. The baby's schedule got wacked, I felt like I was cleaning up after people twenty-four hours a day, and we found out that there is no sound buffer between the downstairs and the upstairs, which means that the slightest noise carries and drives the upstairs dwellers crazy. And this doesn't mean my parents were humping downstairs, it means that the repeated stirring of chocolate milk with a clinking spoon at 3am woke everybody upstairs and resulted in crying crankiness (me, not the baby) and was probably worse than humping. Also, my parents handed out our phone number to their friends, and I'm still getting phone calls from my dad's people trying to track him down. "He won't answer the phone, can you tell him to call me?" So they arrived, my dad immediately got sick, my mom went into the hospital for her major surgery (and came through it fine), I got sick, my mom came home and caught it, and it was just a whole bunch of misery and despair. If January could be erased, that would be nice.
I wrote this on my social networking site addiction page, but I'll write it here, too: man, I wish I could watch American Idol while sitting next to a shrink. Some of these kids are so crazy and I can't for the life of me figure out what's up with them. Are their IQs a little low? Were they clonked on their heads? Are they sociopaths? Every season I yell at the screen trying to figure them out, and I never can. But my love for Idol burns brightly again this year. If you ask me there's nothing like the discovery of raw young talent.
Today I helped one of my new friends optimize her Macintosh. I've lived here for less than a year and word has already traveled that I'm a Mac nerd, great. And this is ironic because I'm having lots of problems right now with my own -- photos are f-ed, music is f-ed... it's a giant mess. It's probably me sabotaging my machine subconsciously so I won't be able to edit my film. Films. I can't even talk about them because I'm so lame. No talking about them until I actually start to do some work again.
So I'm off to the city tomorrow morning bright and early, and I'll tell you why in a few weeks.
¶ 10:11 PM
I wrote this on my social networking site addiction page, but I'll write it here, too: man, I wish I could watch American Idol while sitting next to a shrink. Some of these kids are so crazy and I can't for the life of me figure out what's up with them. Are their IQs a little low? Were they clonked on their heads? Are they sociopaths? Every season I yell at the screen trying to figure them out, and I never can. But my love for Idol burns brightly again this year. If you ask me there's nothing like the discovery of raw young talent.
Today I helped one of my new friends optimize her Macintosh. I've lived here for less than a year and word has already traveled that I'm a Mac nerd, great. And this is ironic because I'm having lots of problems right now with my own -- photos are f-ed, music is f-ed... it's a giant mess. It's probably me sabotaging my machine subconsciously so I won't be able to edit my film. Films. I can't even talk about them because I'm so lame. No talking about them until I actually start to do some work again.
So I'm off to the city tomorrow morning bright and early, and I'll tell you why in a few weeks.
¶ 10:11 PM
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