May 22nd thru the 28th, 2005Previous Week | Archive Index | Current Blog | Next Week I Woke Up At Hood Canal  And NO Hangover. You'd think. What with all the drinking. But no. I am an
iron man. I am the dark side of
the force and tequila is a school full of Jedi-in-training. Okay maybe not. At any rate, I read, and
finished finally, He's Just Not
That Into You. This is probably one of the most degrading books ever
written. The writers, self-proposed "experts" know about as much as what can be gleaned from the fibrous
droppings mice leave behind after a bad night on the cheese. I mean come on, they think that just because
they write for Sex and the City, they know
something about how relationships are supposed to work? A TV
show that took pride and won fans by slapping a high-class gloss on all of the stereotyping that feminists
have been fighting since, roughly, the 18th century? The book is, to put it nicely, contrived, and
ill-conceived at that. And to put it not-so-nicely, the book is dangerous. It more or less tells women
that men should be calling all the shots in the relationship, and so long as they are calling the right
shots, women should be thrilled to pieces by such men. Its a travesty, because only "perfect" people would
be able to apply themselves to ANY of the even most GENEROUS interpretations of this book, and by
definition, such people don't NEED this book. This book has one market, and one market only- not women who
are happy, or women who will be happy someday, but women who need an excuse for their constant sadness.
This book is a relationship-hypochondriac's bible. There's my review.
Come Sith With Me  Forgot to mention that yesterday I rented Episode III: Revenge of the
Sith for the XBox. I am SO Jedi! No really I am. And I got, like, an explanation for why there's a
dark side. It's like this, yo. The force is the energy that is in everything. The essence, the fluid, the
"realness" of reality. It's what separates the really real with the merely possible. And people, you see,
minds, things of imagination, they can conceptualize the possible. Some are able to tap in this "force,"
and manifest their will, turning the merely possible into the actually real. But, by doing so, they
extract reality from some other realness-- the create ripples in the force. And the force doesn't like
this. Everything is connected, so everything feels the effects of manipulating the force. So for every
positive (so-called "light-side") action, there has to be a negative action. And when you get a bunch of
feel-good touchy hippie light-side Yoda wannabes coming 'round learning to use the force, there's a
vacuum, discord, unease, and that's what dark-siders tap into. And when these two sides meet, they
annihilate one another. The only way to ride the universe of dark-side hatred, therefore, is by ridding
the universe of light-side dwellers. THAT's what they meant when they said Anakin would bring balance to
the force. There were too many do-gooders, and so he had to kill them all. Infighting destroyed the most
powerful dark-siders from before, the so-called Sith, so that there weren't too many left. So, am I an
ubergeektoid or what? And I haven't even SEEN the freakin movie yet!Oh, and the game. Dull. Just a bunch of button mashin'. Some scenes from the movie, sorta cool. But not worth my time, so I took it back. Played some Pirates instead. And DDR.
A Fight, A Reaction, Some Pride, Reconciliation If God Had Wanted Us To Be Religious, He Would Have Existed I needed to get back into the swing of things. No gym yesterday, but good god, I was too tired for the gym today. And my back was KILLING me. My darned futon. That's maybe why I sleep on the couch so often, though it was occupied. At any rate, I managed to DDR instead, even racking up 500 calories of sweat, according to the built-in step counter. That was good for a jiggle. Oh, and work was a royal terror, too. Getting jobs out-the-door so people could go back to earning way more money than I do. But do I complain? Heck no. Not in my nature. To complain. Or judge. Or care, really. Really!
New From IDG: ADD for Dummies, a Book for--Hey, Is That Candy?  Got up and YES! made it to the gym. Woohoo! I did 30 on the thing, the steppy-twirly-thing, all the
while
listening to System of a Down's new album Mezmerize.
Those dudes. Off. The. Hook. Holistic Existentialists like me gotta wonder, sometimes, if wars and
unhappiness are really so bad when they help hard-rock bands from Armenia write kick-ass music. Anyhoo, at
home I spent my time putting out work fires. Goodness gracious. Being understaffed rules! RULES! I also
managed to eat a few soft-boiled eggs. I meant for them to be hard-boiled, but, it seems, I don't know how
to boil well. Okay, next time, 15 minutes. Yassuh.
Got word that a hot blonde is going to come for a visit in June. For her sister's birthday, but she'll be staying with me. And you know what that means, right? Right, it means no DDR while she's here. If it meant anything ELSE physical, well, actually, now that I think about it, the idea is so preposterous one wonders if I even have genitals. God damn platonic friendships. I like the product so much, I bought the @#$%^&* company. Anyhoo, got as many work fires put out as I could, then lapped Greenlake with a friend, chatting about this that and the other. After I came home to watch some Netflixxed Tru Calling, Season 1, Disc 6, season finale. And its goodness made it that much more frustrating to know they stopped filming half-way through Season 2, meaning no resolution, and probably no Season 2 DVDs. Arrgh. Maybe I can Limewire them? Maybe Monkeys will fly out my butt? Ah well. That's no more bizarre than the strawberry and walnut salad I ate for dinner. Diets are weird. The rest of the night has been me typing up this blog. Little tip for you: the music of Paul Oakenfold is really good to blog to. Just in case you where wondering. Sweaty Jones Yep, me. The gym for 45 minutes, done by 7 am. Can you beleive it. Me neither. Why does the sun feel the need to come up so dizang early? It got me outta bed, anyway. And I exercised. And topped off the blog (below, or above if this is archived) and I made a smoothie. And then I DDR'd. I finally tried out the new Ignition 3. Nice. At first. And then the foam inserts came apart! Hello? The old version of the inserts was in 3 parts, that you put together-- the new is in six, so that there is a seem beneath the bottom and top arrows. Uh, no. Bad move, Red Octane. I had to use duct tape. How ghetto. DDR ghetto. Whatever. I got a con call, so enough of the sweatin' for now. And what will I DO on the con call? Update my archive, of course!
Updated the Archive
Take Me Out to the Airport
I Have Some Bad News Hokay. So I promised my neighbor I would help him convert his shoes to use as clip-ons for his bike, and then I met up with some folks for a crafting project. But as we were winding things up, one of them got pissed at me, and no one seemed to care, so I took off. I believe the word "cranky" was used to justify the meanness. Cranky? Nah. I don't accept that. Something else was going on. Whatever. Bye. Les Z Day  Ah, the Friday before Memorial Day. Lazy and free. The free CoH was not enough to keep me
out the gym, though, and to the tunes of Zebrahead I busted out some 700 calories, 9000 strides, 4.5 miles
and 45 minutes on the elliptical crosstrainer. Then I attempted some DDR fun, but phone calls put me down
and then fatigue caught up with me. So I bathed and hunkered down to watch The Devil's Playground. Fascinating. It's about the
Amish rite of rumspringa, when an Amish child turns 16 and is allowed to go into the world and do
whatever he or she wants. The main focus of the film, a kind named Faron, put it best when he said "It's
like an inocculation. You get a little taste, just enough to know you're not missing anything, before you
join the church for life." It was a good perspective on the Amish in general. For a people who drop out of
school at age 13, they're very wise, introspective, and intelligent.
City of Heroes! I Mowed the Lawn  I oughta take a picture to show you... hang on... okay. This
is my little patch o' green. Needs work, eh? yes it does. I suppose instead of blogging and video gaming
and netflixxing and indoorsing all the time, I could work in the yard. Ida know. I always was involved
with ladies who had green thumbs, so I never got in the habit... I'ma good gardner's assitant, though.
Maybe I'll put an ad on Craigslist: "Wanted- Hot Babe for Yardwork. I'll make you lunch. Cuddling
optional."
Went over to the ol' Apple Store to get some iPod toys for my Mom's birthday. She's a professional photographer who's recently gone to the dark side and started using digital cameras. Now she has an iPod Photo for slide show purposes. Sort of like an electronic version of those wallet photographs people used to carry around. After that I had to go into Barnes & Noble for some Star Wars movies and the latest Harry Potter film. At home again it was some CoH and a whole pizza. Yes. Then I met up with some folks at Jazz Alley to see jazz guitarist Bill Frizzle. Frizzel. Frisselle? Okay I don't remember, but it was good. Jazzy, of course, and not the good-old-fashioned ragtime-to-blues jazz, but the modern jazz that was born from head trips and white boys in the sixties. What Pink Floyd would have done if that had not gotten famous (Hello, Atom Heart Mother). After that we went to chill at the Paragon (eek) on Queen Anne. Then I took some drunk girls home to eat Krispy Kremes and discuss life, the universe, and almost everything. Don't worry, my dears: it was chaste. Previous Week | Archive Index | Current Blog | Next Week |
Which is no big deal, but now, at least, the blog is
aaaaall caught up. Hooray for me. I just woke up from a mother of a nap. I am still groggy. Oh for the
days of sugary-sweet soda beverages in my house. AH well. You know, since trying to not eat like crap,
water has actually started tasting GOOD, Ain't that a hoot n a holler? Or just a hoot? Or maybe 3/4 of a
hoot and half a holler? No? You people take things to damn seriously. Go jump in a delicious lake.
