Bothering my cats
I woke him up four or five times, and then flashed my camera in his face. I’m a bad person. ;)
Tagged : Flash
The Heart of Gold
“Five to one against and falling…” she said, “four to one against and falling…three to one…two…one…probability factor of one to one…we have normality, I repeat we have normality.” She turned her microphone off – then turned it back on, with a slight smile and continued: “Anything you still can’t cope with is therefore your own problem.”
As Curt pours the last drop of sparkling wine into my booze, I see my life as an alcoholic flash before me. The blind rages, the black-outs, the brilliance born of blistering despair. The eventual vituperative autobiography on wasted youth, which will reach the best seller list on the day that I die. And I will die a glorious death, singing ‘Cheese, glorious cheese!’ as I am wont to do when suffering from extreme exhaustion. With what? With life. With others. With my own self.
I am fond of this idea, though it is unlikely. I lack the will to vomit; I fear vomiting. Alas, another life goal which will go unmet.
We were literally one, tire-screeching, brake-smoking inch away from a car accident tonight. Some asshole kid (in my head it was a kid or a woman, though it was too dark to tell which) decided not to adhere to the ‘stop at a red light’ suggestion and nearly rammed into us going full speed down the road. I yelled some obscenities out the window, and we left. Obscenities: supremely ineffective in solving problems, yet so satisfying.
This event, though interesting, is not the cause of my dark mood. It is merely evidence. Evidence, if you will, of a long string of iniquities perpetrated on the world by assholes. Assholes with names that I see every day, assholes with other names that sit somewhere else in the world, fucking it the hell up. Assholes that drive cars. Assholes that live down the street. Assholes that let their kids scream incessantly rather than parent them. Assholes, assholes, everywhere. And I will admit that I have been worn down. I am done. I don’t care anymore what anyone’s excuse is. I don’t care if I’m wrong. I just want the assholes to leave me the hell alone. To just go away, and take the crusty pollution of their existences with them.
And yet, once upon a time a man stopped by the side of the road to help me change my tire and gave me a bag of avocados, just because he wanted to be nice. And today, a woman went out of her way to open the gate for me to let me in to the apartment complex, just because she wanted to be nice.
My anger cannot remain. I relent, mentally murmuring that it was a bad day, and go to bed.
OMG WEBCAM
I have just lost an hour of my life to my webcam.
“HP gave me a webcam, and now I’m insane.” from Giang Hoang on Vimeo.
The second one, first
Chapter One: A non-tropical heatwave
“Ed, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, BUT THE AIR CONDITIONING IN THIS RUN-DOWN RAT-TRAP IS BROKEN AND I’M MELTING!”
Edward Denby remained unmoving in his chair, his hands laced and resting on his waist. A wet cloth was draped over his face. “If I say I have noticed, will it stop you from complaining?”
“You bet your ass it won’t!”
“So then my motivation for discussing it with you would be…?”
Unceremoniously, the cloth was ripped from his face. His assistant Delphi stood before him, her green eyes flashing a thin sheen of sweat covering her face. She was angry, which was a good look for her. He wisely kept the thought to himself.
All clear ;)
Today was a good day, except for the part where my car ended up smelling like cat poo. Let’s just say it was unfortunate. And smelly. And unfortunate.
But all is well! :) Happy Saturday! Here’s a kitty video. (Pardon the blur, I was manual focusing.)
Inky does the Kitty Death Blossom! from Giang Hoang on Vimeo.
Kitty Video!
Shameful…but so catchy!
I’m a hopeless pop whore. ;)
Here’s what I did this weekend:
This is someone else’s video of X2. I actually went on this ride. Of course, this video was the first time I saw what was happening to me since I shut my eyes at about the 1:10 point and didn’t open them again until I knew for sure I wasn’t going to die.
Of course, Paula and Curt had a great time on all the scary rides, and I looked very much forward to my obligatory amusement park churro. It was a great time, though! Next time I have been promised a churro + stunt show. That’s my speed, baby. ;)
Curt brought me flowers today, too. :) Besides being sweet, it gave me the chance to continue practicing with the macro lens my dad gave me a few weeks ago. Whee!
All at once
Whew.
The javascript course I was taking is over, and I think I did fairly well on my final project, so that’s one more thing off my plate. It was a night class, five hours every Tuesday night for six weeks, on top of work and periodic volunteering. I like being productive, but it’ll be good to relax a little bit for a few weeks before the new semester starts up. ;) And who thought semester classes were a good idea, anyway? :P
Went to the doctor on Monday. While I’m trying to convince the doctor there might really be something wrong with me, I have flashes of future vu in which I can see myself as a crazy old woman eating aspirin for breakfast and badgering young doctors into looking down my throat. Turns out it’s (most likely) the same thing I’ve been paying doctors to diagnose me with for years: hypochondria. And overweight-ness, which has not yet become anything else too terrible for me. Which still gives me time to change that. Oh, ever-dwindling youth, fail me not!
Curt and I also went for a hike this weekend, in the rain. I was happy to put our $1.25-on-clearance-at-Target rain ponchos to use, because Curt made fun of me when I bought them and that’ll show him ha ha.
I feel lucky to have the life I do, even if my pants don’t always fit right. :)
Klaatu barada nikto
Yesterday, after the geographical routing I took from a pesky Flash game on the internet, I picked up our two-year old Almanac and started to read with the intention of, obviously, learning everything in the world. I read about Michael Dukakis and the tank thing, which I’d read about before, but had not previously mustered up enough gumption to go looking for the image. I did it this afternoon.
And now I’m sitting at my desk in a state of mild depression, a state most inappropriate to the small work I must do, crossing Ts and dotting Is. This moment is one of many moments when I step out of my comfortable little life of modest decadence and petty struggling, and I see the rest of the world and all the startling reality of lives other than mine. Every time this happens, I am sad. Terribly, gut-wrenchingly sad. Here is the culprit. Or perhaps, you could say the messenger. We are the culprits, really.
Then, I read this, which, though dwarfish in scope compared to the LIFE photos, carries itself with the same kingly deportment. Let this be a lesson to me, then, when my angry cynicism threatens to better me. Bravo, Mr. Len Cassamas, whoever you are.