Looking Up

I do feel moderately better - thanks to a concentrated effort on people's behalf to cheer me up. Of course, Nomi, I'm looking forward to the next chapter.
Did you know there's a restaraunt around here that serves nothin' but fries? I think I may use my free-meal-from-Carolyn on that. Seems like a shame not to make her buy me a steak, but....nothing but fries? Whoa. Unless you have better ideas....oh, whom'I kidding? Wang's! We should go to Wang's.
I still have to talk to Munch, or he's gonna pout for weeks. I know how he gets. Sooner or later, I'm gonna break down and talk to him if he doesn't call me.
But on to other things. I think that I need to take in a show. Bad Shakespeare? Broadway? Watching people break up in Central Park?
That may be the worst thing I've ever done to a stranger on a social basis. I've joined an argument - hey, they have it in public, anyone can play, right? You'd be surprised how touchy folks get, but if you give them a mutual enemy, they seem to gloss over their differences fast. Funny, that.

Back At Work

I'm drinking coffee so nobody else uses a green marker to draw a...a...phallus on the side of my face while I sleep at my desk.
Yeah, that's what they did. Jerks.
Bleah. I had a HUGE argument with Munch this weekend, and nothing anyone says can manage to cheer me up. I feel like just walking away and not talking to people - and now it's Monday. Whee.

Not even Wang's Discount Sushi can help. I'm gonna try, but my heart will not be in it.

Shhhh

I am so tired that I fell asleep on my desk. Carolyn took pictures of me drooling. Why can I sleep all day and not at night?
Someone drew on me. This means war. It's only funny when I do it. The phantom artist will rue the day, I tell you.
Why are there seventeen hang-ups on my phone, and one angry message from Munch claiming he's been calling all day? Sheesh! I should ask Carolyn what he wants, but the last time I did that, she threw something at me.

Unless I get a better offer, maybe I better go out with him tomorrow.

Back To Work

I managed to dodge the Munch, and he was gone when I was ready to leave. I'm not sure he even knew I was there. I need to call and ask why he was at my place, because Caorlyn left me another message about him. Since she's being kind enough to help me with my desk, it's the least I can do.
This year's Mother's Day pity-party did not go as planned. This isn't a bad thing, because maybe it's best to move on from some things.
Some things, though, you don't forget, like being the kid who acted up at school. I was telling someone about that. Why do you do it? Attention, probably, a little boredom, or maybe the only thing you can control at that age is getting yourself in trouble.
And you ever notice some of the bad little boys only liked the little girls whose hair fell out of their braids, who sassed the teachers back - we snuck looks at them from where we were standing in the corner, we ate paste to make them say "Ewwww" or better yet "So?" and we wrote them notes that we turned into paper balls to bounce off of their heads to say "Look at me! I like you!" to get a kick in the shins so we knew they liked us, too.
Being a kid can be lonely - and growing up doesn't help much. What can you do, but flick rubberbands, and hope?

Come over here, lady
Let me wipe your tears away
Come a little nearer, baby
'cause you'll heal over
Heal over, Heal over someday

And I don't wanna hear you tell yourself
That these feelings are in the past
You know it doesn't mean they're off the shelf
Because pain's built to last
Everybody sails alone
But we can travel side by side
Even if you fail
You know that no one really minds
Come over here, lady

Don't hold on, but don't let go
I know it's so hard
You've got to try to trust yourself
I know it's so hard, so hard

Come over here, lady
Let me wipe your tears away
Come a little nearer, baby
'cause you'll heal over,
heal over, heal over someday

Sleep, Glorious Sleep

So, yes, I dropped off the face of the earth again. That's what happens when you don't sleep for three days, then get on the wrong train and fall asleep.
Sheesh. I have like twenty messages on this phone, and none of them are the ones I was waiting for.
And tomorrow is Mother's Day. Whooo, great. Just. Great.
Why is Munch asleep on my couch? That's very odd. Ah, well, best not to disturb his beauty sleep, since he really, really needs it. I'll just put his hand in this nice warm pan of water to make sure that he's comfortable. Hee hee.
Ok, heading back off to bed. One of these days, I will manage to sleep while it's dark.

Monday As It Were

So, Carolyn did my laundry. I have truly perfected the art of "Just kidding - unless you're gonna do it." I have the best partner in the whole world. And hah-ha-ha, I do not need my undies handled with tongs...
Seriously, she so rocks. And now, Elliot wants to go on an adventure. I worry a bit - but I'm also intrigued. However, El, we are not going into New York Below.
I also haven't seen the man in black since I crawled under my rock. However, since he essentially tossed me down a hill last time I saw him, I think I can be forgiven.
Ok, so movie stuff I promised. Tomorrow, I continue it.
So, I went to see V for Vendetta by myself, and it was glorious. I'd read the book, and it was complicated, interesting, and just way cool, like everything Alan Moore writes. Elliot can tell you this, I'm sure.
However, it was a) a book, which makes it easier to have mutiple plot threads, and b) written about Margaret Thatcher's Britain. These would not work for an American movie audience 20 years later, so changes were necessary.
I liked it - I liked it a lot. Some people are going to whine about distorting the book, and losing some of the plot...hey, it happens in adaptation. Good books do not good movies make without some tweaking.
The Thatcher thing? Most of us wouldn't get it - hell, this film's target audience wasn't even potty-trained during the Thatcher years, I don't think. It's talking a little about issues now, and that's fine. Deal. It's a plot point.
The only thing I stuck on was V saying he loved Evey. That was...odd. But if you look at it this way, it makes sense: He doesn't mean Evey as herself. He means her as freedom, as a life past revenge, of a life without masks and knives. V is for vengeance, Evey is for vitality - a new life built out of the rubble of the old.
Or maybe I just like the explosions and the Kung-fu.

The Long Dark Tea-Time

I think I hate Sundays. I know I do, actually. I always have - they mean the weekend is over, and your whole day off is ruined because you're worrying about the next day. It's like Sunday is one big ticking clock.
So I got nothing done, and I just bounced off the walls - not literally - putting books down, picking them up, looking at things I need to get to and not getting to them. I went to the grocery store and couldn't find anything I wanted to eat.
I was really tempted to sleep the whole day away, but then I would have fast-forwarded to Monday, and that would have sucked even more.
I hope everyone else had a better weekend.

Working on the Weekend

I've been all wrapped up again, and haven't written much. I've been busy throwing paper balls at someone, because they will not tell me what I want to know, but she just glares at me.
She's having a movie night, though, I heard. Not with Munch. Hmmmm.
Oh, and she told me something else, which made me throw up in my mouth a little. Now that did involve Munch - ew.
Stabler thinks we should hang out, and I think he's right. The dude has good tatse in books, what can I say? I forgot to ask him about War for the Oaks - an excellent book, I trust he'll agree.
Other than that though, I've been hanging out on my roof, enjoying the warm spring nights, and thinking more than I should. But my mind was agreeably engaged. I've been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes and the face of a pretty woman can bestow. What's wrong with that?

A Secret Language

I'm not terribly good with what we call traditional other languages - actually, I'm fairly hopeless at them, aside from being able to repeat a few phrases learned by repetition - and yes, "I am sorry, but I am already sleeping with your friend, but perhaps we can work something out" is one of them.
However, there's a few other different languages that people don't stop to think about, and those, out in plain sight that most people don't process, are a little trickier, and yet, we navigate them instinctively.
Body language for example, and tonal analyzaition, or getting what people mean or what they're not saying through watching them move, hearing what's in their voice.
Another one's more encoding, oddly enough, where the use of words becomes something you need to look at - for example, I had a teacher in grade school who used to make us say "I didn't remember" instead of "I forgot" because she refused to let us think we'd done something positive. Weird, hunh? And yet, perps will do it - "I caught a charge" - not "I committed a crime" or victims, especially domestic ones will say "When I got hit," instead of "He (or she) hit me."
Where am I going with this? I have no idea. Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. Women have their own language when it comes down to it, when they're dealing with us, like they've made a better study, sometimes, than most of us do.
And there's a secret language it seems, between people who are really desperate to have someone understand them, or people with the same problems, the same questions, the same needs.

Where am I going with this? Hell if I know. Must be the beer, or the fact that after yesterday's beers, my keyboard stopped working for some odd reason, and I felt like the world was trying to tell me something - again with the secret languages, hunh?

But anyway, after dinner with Carolyn, I learned a lot and very little. First off, she's really never gonna tell me who it was that she was flirting with that wasn't interested - or she thinks she's not. She underestimates my pest-ifying powers. Also, I leaned that burritos make her belch, a lot - or maybe she realized how much that bugged me.
Speaking of bugging me, she also made that crack about thinking with my brain - I do, too damn much, actually. Maybe she meant I should quit brooding and just go with it for a while. That might be good advice.
And no, I didn't cheat. Take that how you will.

Monday, Monday - Can't Trust That Day

If Carolyn thought my mood was weird before, then man, will she be confused today.
I'm calling in. I've got a song stuck in my head, for no good reason at all, and I have a puzzle I need to work on.

Maybe I'll go down to the Guggenheim, and try and collect my thoughts. I could stare at The Palazzo Ducale, Seen from San Giorgio Maggiore , which always helps me, if not think, then space.

But I have my phone on. And Carolyn, maybe you should catch me for dinner or something. I owe you an explanation or six, as long as you promise not to hit me, or at least not to hit me too hard.

"That song, tonight, will not go from my mind." -- Othello


I was playing another game
I hoped you'd catch on all the same.

Thought about you all the time,
Walking round the Guggenheim.
Like a rhyme in my mind,
There you are, in my car,
But we don't drive very far....