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Can we start again, please?
Oct. 30th, 2003 03:33 pm[or, Mr. McGee, don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.]
I had grand plans to use part of my security deposit money to buy a used bike but now it might be for a new cell phone. While I do like new gadgets, it's annoying to drop so much money for something I don't need to be that fancy. But I've dropped my current one so much that the circuitry doesn't seem to stay together inside and it loses a charge quite quickly. This morning the battery was dead and the settings had reverted back to the day I activated it and I had to change the time and date.
Since my phone is at home, I could not call audblog from the lavatory of the arts building where my therapist is housed, which also has many rehearsal spaces. Standing at the urinal I clearly heard a familiar melody from a soprano voice and started singing along before I realized it was Eponine's number from Les Miserables. I was transported back to 1992 and would have loved to take you along with me, but alas, I had no phone.
In therapy I worked on anger management issues. Not as in stupid-white-rap-rock-bands anger management or goofy-Jack Nicholson-movies anger management, but more of the "I never get angry because that's not polite, please excuse me while I self-destruct my insides and die of a heart attack at the age of 33" anger management. Um, yeah. When it comes to my rage, you can call me Valtrex. But watch out. That might all change soon. Please expect in the future to hear me say to you in a quiet pleasant voice, "well, you know I'm very angry with you right now...."
I went to the clerk's office today to get some documents and as I approached the security, the guard monotonously announced to me loudly (though I was the only one there), "PLEASE empty your pockets of all keys...wallets...cell phones...and metal objects." I dutifily placed the contents of my pants into her basket and walked through. The alarm sounded. I stepped back through as she said, "Please step back through. And PLEASE also empty your pockets of all had explosive devices...hand grenades...guns...knives...machetes -- " At the word 'machete' we both lost it. It's nice to know that In This Age of 9/11TM, some folks have retained their sense of humor.
I had grand plans to use part of my security deposit money to buy a used bike but now it might be for a new cell phone. While I do like new gadgets, it's annoying to drop so much money for something I don't need to be that fancy. But I've dropped my current one so much that the circuitry doesn't seem to stay together inside and it loses a charge quite quickly. This morning the battery was dead and the settings had reverted back to the day I activated it and I had to change the time and date.
Since my phone is at home, I could not call audblog from the lavatory of the arts building where my therapist is housed, which also has many rehearsal spaces. Standing at the urinal I clearly heard a familiar melody from a soprano voice and started singing along before I realized it was Eponine's number from Les Miserables. I was transported back to 1992 and would have loved to take you along with me, but alas, I had no phone.
In therapy I worked on anger management issues. Not as in stupid-white-rap-rock-bands anger management or goofy-Jack Nicholson-movies anger management, but more of the "I never get angry because that's not polite, please excuse me while I self-destruct my insides and die of a heart attack at the age of 33" anger management. Um, yeah. When it comes to my rage, you can call me Valtrex. But watch out. That might all change soon. Please expect in the future to hear me say to you in a quiet pleasant voice, "well, you know I'm very angry with you right now...."
I went to the clerk's office today to get some documents and as I approached the security, the guard monotonously announced to me loudly (though I was the only one there), "PLEASE empty your pockets of all keys...wallets...cell phones...and metal objects." I dutifily placed the contents of my pants into her basket and walked through. The alarm sounded. I stepped back through as she said, "Please step back through. And PLEASE also empty your pockets of all had explosive devices...hand grenades...guns...knives...machetes -- " At the word 'machete' we both lost it. It's nice to know that In This Age of 9/11TM, some folks have retained their sense of humor.
