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It’s been quite a while since I’ve last updated. I didn’t forget about the blog - it was always in the back of my mind but was another in a line of things I was just putting off. Perhaps I just didn’t want to see my last posting. I feel much better now that I realize the source of my discomfort, or at least partially, is that I don’t engage in enough social activity. I should have seen it when my friends accused me of not being around anymore. They had a right to. My reasons are poor; work and weariness. The only one who can change this is me. So I’ll start. Less work, more play.

Another melancholy moment has hit me. I realize that I am utterly inadequate in life. And now you say how does that make sense when the only requirement of life is to be alive? I don’t know, but I feel like I’m just taking up air another person could be breathing.

What do you want to do with your life? I want to sit and contemplate, but not for too long as depression will consume me. You tell me what I should do and I’ll do it. I’m good at a lot of things, but not great at anything. I gave up most of my friends. There are only two who will stay with me. I can’t keep a conversation going because I have nothing interesting to say. If you just said something you’ll have to repeat it because my attention span is worse than that of a kid with ADD and these ears will switch focus to the slightest background noise. I’m only good for helping out with rent or with filling out forms or writing the occasional large check. Because that’s what I am - a source of income, and no more.

I am very excited about my week off. Not only will I sleep in til 1pm then muck around, I am going to start on my anime cosplay costume. It’s going to be Luppi from Bleach this year. Luppi is an androgynous-looking deceased espada who I thought was a female when first introduced, but who turns out to be a male. This would be my first official costume since last year’s Soi Fong didn’t work out. Tomorrow I’ll be shopping around for fabric and Crayola Model Magic for the headpiece. The hardest part will be handsewing the whole thing together. Wish me luck. I’ll be posting costume updates along the way.

This is my desk, taken from a shoddy camera phone.

It looks like a mess from afar but I assure you, it looks much worse up close. With my kinda days, I just can’t keep the area neat. So I’ve taken steps, albeit baby steps, to be more organized.

1. Write notes in a notebook, not on post-its that are then scattered around office or follow me home in my bag.

2. Put similar things together, neatly, so that they take up less room. No more tossing rampages.

3. Throw away/recycle shit that isn’t needed. The hard part here is finding the means/time to do it, and a receptable(s) big enough to fit everything.

How long will I hold? How long?

I sit in a cafeteria, enjoying a pre-work blueberry muffin and coffee. Four ladies at the sitting area in front of me get up to leave. One grabs her empty coffee cup and shoots it at the uncovered trash receptacle. She is three feet from her mark. Her aim is off, the cup falls to the right. She retrieves the coffee cup and tries again. She misses. She repeats. Misses again. With a defeated face, she places the cup into the trash and follows her friends out. I hold in a smile and think I am better than her. I am so full of myself sometimes.

Took away the graffiti-like header. It was a bit too garish and I had been meaning to replace it for a while now. Behold! The new header is up. Same colors. Less tacky. Oh yeah.

I have been feeling not-so-good lately, a little under the weather, a little underweight, a little more lethargic than usual. Sadly this seems to be work-stress related but I’d much rather blame it on a tapeworm or mononucleosis. A physical affliction is so much easier to fight off. My grandmother came over last weekend for Chinese New Year and asked what happened to me, said my face was ‘jeem-si’ which translates to ’sharp’ - meaning why do you look like skeletor? She would always judge a person’s weight by one’s cheeks. Even if someone just had a meaty face and an average weight body, she’d call him fat.My dad chirped in a few days later, lecturing me on my bad habits of not sleeping enough or not eating healthy. Like the good child that I am, I promptly stopped listening after the first few sentences. I do that more often than I should, sometimes I don’t even realize it. When asked what I’m thinking of… honestly, nothing. My eyes are looking around but my mind is blank. If that is how it feels to have Alzheimer’s disease, I’m ready and have had plenty of practice.

On a completely different topic, I’ve been listening to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!’s new album, Some Loud Thunder. It’s very good, equally so as their last album. My favorites so far are Emily Jean Stock, Satan Said Dance, and Goodbye To The Mother And The Cove.

And to those who celebrate this: Happy Chinese New Year. Oink Oink.

My cat sitting stint ended at 6:30am this morning when the owners came home, a half hour earlier than expected. I started clean up at 6am when I got home from spending the night out, thinking an hour should be enough time to do what I needed. I had only gotten through rinsing the dishes and dumping them into the dishwasher, cleaning out the two cat litter boxes, filling up their humidifiers when I got the call that they were downstairs at the D&D. Holy crap! 5 minutes was all I had left! And so started the crazy mad dash around the house. I made the bed, tossed their gazillion pillows back on in a semi-orderly fashion, filled up the cat food bowls, collected my clothes into one heap and was attempting to dump the overflowing trash bucket in their bathroom when I heard “We’re Home!”I still had the 4 bags of kitty litter trash sitting on their kitchen floor to toss and some weird looking possible-cat-vomit stain on their carpet to clean, and personal items scattered in their bathroom, not to mention my pile of clothes in their bedroom.

I should explain that they are a tidy couple and would expect their home be in the same condition they left it. Within two days of staying there, I had it shiteously messy.

Anyway, they were cool about the bit of mess left over. Or just too tired to care. I was paid, given a nice Vegas t-shirt and went on my way.

It was cold out, though not nearly as bad as the days before. I was prepared for it with layers of clothes I had not changed out of from yesterday morning. I was unshowered, all bundled up, and carrying my overstuffed bags. And wandering downtown. I felt very much like a hobo. I walked by a bank and a crazed-glassy eyed man was inside looking out, with his thumb and index finger in his mouth whistling. Loudly. Short continuous blasts. He took a breath and started again, looking quite content with his talent. I wondered if he was going to pass out.

Nothing is open early on Sunday. I made my way to South Station and typed this. I don’t want to go home yet, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ll wait for the shops to open, and wander around some more.