random

This is something called the Beijing Watercube. It's for the Olympics. I don't really care about the Olympics, but I thought it was a really cool building, especially the nighttime pictures where it's all blue and glowy.

Anyway, I'm home alone, which is some kind of miracle, so I'm blogging. I had a lot of unpleasant shit happen at work tonight, but it's mostly boring, so I won't bother with any details. The only important thing for you to know is that Shmiel and I went out after work and drank at Billy Ray's and played Midieval Madness Pinball, which I love and in which I scored over 26 million points, which should have won me a free game, but didn't for some reason.

So here's my tirade of random. I had a relatively bad weekend, which is a shame but which, I suppose, is cosmically appropriate, since I've been having so many really, really good weekends, all in a row. I was in a funk, basically. I hit a minor dip in my mental health. But I was able to get my laundry done, which is good.

Last night I went to an "L Word" party and I realized that I don't really like that show very much anymore. I missed all (I mean every single episode) of season 4, and jumping into the third episode of season 5, I found that I could give a shit about any of it. And seriously? Jenny? Is directing a movie? And spitting her nicorette gum out everywhere? Please tell me somebody is going to show up in a few episodes and fucking kill her with a shotgun.

I also got into my first hot-tub last night. I mean: my first hot-tub since I was 12 and at my rich aunt Linda's house. It wasn't as awesome as I thought it would be. Sure, there was something really cool about being half-naked outside in the freezing cold, then hopping into a bubbling tub of piping hot water... but then... you know... now what? We just sit here? And I was having these weird bouyancy problems. My legs kept trying to float out from under me and pull my head under water (I think because my ass is so voluminous with the very buoyant substance known as fat) -- I couldn't just sit comfortably, I had to stay on guard constantly against being dragged under by the force of my powerful, powerful ass. This is a common problem for me... I'm always battling my powerful ass.

My new earrings are hurting a little. First of all, they required some stretching, especially in the left ear-hole which had been missing an earring of any kind for at least a week and had shrunk a bit. Also, the lovely spiral of the earrings, including a very pointy arc at each end, is very good at catching in every single thing on earth (including my scarf, the pillow, Mahavira's shirt, Mahavira's hair) -- basically anywhere I put my head, my earrings are sure to get hung. And that's especially annoying right now because the stretched part is still healing and it hurts.

Speaking of missing jewelry, I'd been wearing on my right thumb a really sweet little signet ring with a lovely cursive "M" etched into it (for Mahavira, duh) -- but now it's missing. I don't know when or how, all I know is it's not on my thumb anymore and I can't find it. I'm sad about it because I really enjoyed having a ring on my finger with an "M" to constantly remind me of Mahavira. Because I'm totally attached to her and it's probably creepy.

Anyway, speaking of sad, my dearest, oldest friend Leo (who I met in a mud-puddle in 1993, for you new-comers) is leaving in two days to spend six months in South Africa. I'm still not entirely sure how or why, but she's doing a volunteer gig in the Kruger National Park and I'll miss her a lot. She's going to come over tomorrow and drop off some clothes she wants me to donate to my workplace, and then I won't see her again until July. I'm sad about it.

There is a bag in my floor, red and black with white writing, that says on top "Do yoga" and on bottom "Jealousy works the opposite way you want it to." This is ironic, because this bag belongs to Mahavira and she's really jealous about all sorts of things all the time. It's almost comical. Mahavira having this bag is like my grandmother having a plaque on her wall that says "Why worry when you can pray?" Good question. Apparently my grandmother has a really good answer, because she worries and prays both like a fucking champ.

We're having a staff post-holiday holiday party this Friday with free food catered by a pharmaceutical company and I really wish I didn't have to go because it cuts into one of my two nights with Mahavira, but I *have* to go because I helped organize it. However, right now I hate the thought of it and wish I could just go bowling with Mahavira instead, which was our original plan before I remembered about the party.

I'm drunk(ish).