manic time hemorrage

Posted June 27th, 2010 in Life of Giang by Giang

It’s increasingly improbable that we’ll have closed on a house before Mad Men starts up again, so I’ve resorted to obsessively checking the AMC website. I Mad-Menned myself into a scene; I call it I Raise You A Donut:

House hunting is exciting, but it’s driving me crazy. I check listings obsessively, and at night I alternate between anxious dreams about work, and equally frantic dreams about not being able to find a house. Alas I am not one of those cool-as-a-cucumber types; I am undone by stress.

But now I’ve got Rick Astley (the I-Still-Can’t-Believe-He’s-Not-Black guy) singing to me over YouTube. GOD, weren’t the ’80s the BEST!!?!!

Hehe. ;)

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Voting

Posted June 3rd, 2010 in Life of Giang by Giang

Why do they not just preface each side’s argument for and against with “Useless lies that won’t help you at all”? :P

Post-stymy

Posted June 3rd, 2010 in Books, Poetry, Life of Giang by Giang

Busy at work, vacation unpacked. Perfect time to redo the blog I barely use.

Very sad to hear about the passing of Friend Dodds’ cat, Lord Underfoot. He was a bit cranky as cats usually are – but a good cat, nonetheless. Farewell, little fellow.

Recently broke free from the Reading List and devoured The House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski. Excellent, and pleasing to the brain.

The pictures here are strange now. They won’t be strange later. Toodle-oo.

Attachment

Posted April 10th, 2010 in Life of Giang by Giang

Life, what is it but a dream?

The Heart of Gold

Posted March 16th, 2010 in Life of Giang by Giang

“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.

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Adieu, you stinking rotten day, you

Posted March 4th, 2010 in Life of Giang by Giang

I was ten minutes late to work today because I couldn’t find my car key, after I made an extra copy yesterday night. Then, while I was looking for it, I knocked my new water bottle over and cracked it. Then, during lunch, after distinctly thinking, “I wonder if this yellow curry would look green on my blue sweater?”, I proceeded to flick an entire spoonful onto my chest (yes, it looked green). Then the day slowly devolved into probably the fifth most stressful day of my entire work-life. Then, in an effort to cheer me up, Curt and I attempted to go bowling. We went to three different bowling alleys: two were having their league night, and the third closed just as we walked up to it.

These things are not so very bad at all. However, let us suffice to say that my blood is currently at least 11.2 fluid ounces more inebriated than it was just a few minutes ago.

And so it goes.