Current Mood: Pre-sprung, edgy, tense. Antsy, perhaps. Somber, but brewing.
Current Song: Pissing by Low
(Lyrics: I can't see. Sing the darker of pissing on my toes. Knowing what I know I know. I'm waiting like a loyal whore. Under every stone
Lovers sleep alone. Alone. Alone. Lovers sleep alone. Alone. Alone.)
Current Game: KOTOR II
Current Book: Ariel - Sylvia Plath
Current Random Quirk: Sucking on my bottom lip.
Current Obsession: Scott

Today is hard. It's raining outside and it fits my mood, but I don't feel like I fit into my skin and my life right now. Andrea called me this morning to tell me that Su had a miscarriage, and that's why she wasn't at work half of last week. Last week was the first time I heard that Dan had quit all his jobs because going to school for 18 credits this semester at Su's urging is taking up all of his time. He and I haven't talked in a month. He doesn't need me anymore, and it's odd to feel that sort of letting go. It was just wierd, because last night I had my dream again... the one where I'm stuck taking care of their unwanted baby because I have nothing better to do with my life, and I'm the only person out of the awkward three of us who cares about it. It was different than usual, though. A lot darker, more tense and full of undercurrents in the flow of things. Winds of change are stirring mid-October. I love this time of year, because the world turns shadow and grey and you feel every breath and going outside makes your skin tingle. I get my best writing this time of year. I feel like writing something right now, but nothing good will come out. There's a poem stuck in me, and I'm too preoccupied to get it out right.

Last night I went for a walk with Scott, and we talked about stuff. About life. It was our first really serious talk, and it was interesting. He has a lot of the same feelings about things that I do. The same kind of questions, the same kind of reclining doubts. We went to his car when it started to rain, and talking led to other things. I really, really like him, but I wonder if it's just some sort of compensation for the hole of recent pasts inside of me.

Everyone gets hungry for things.

So I took my guitar
and I threw down some chords,
and some words I could sing without shame.

And I soon had a song,
I played it around
for some friends but they all said the same:

They said, "Music's for fools,
you should go back to school.
The future is prisons in math."

So I did what they said.
Now my children are fed,
'cause they pay me to do what I'm asked.

I forgot all my songs.
The words now were wrong,
and I burned my guitar in a rage.

But the fire came to rest
in your white velvet breast,
so somehow I just know that it's safe...

- "Death of a Salesman" by Low

Doooooooooom!

And so the end begins.

Today, in our training meeting at work, they confiscated the use of work email for anything other than work purposes. (The NERVE!) No, seriously, now that they've shot our morale in the kneecaps AND the jugular, all I can do is resort to listening to REALLY LOUD OBNOXIOUS MUSIC ON MY BIGASS HEADPHONES SO ALL THE PEOPLE AROUND ME HAVE TO LISTEN TO IT AS WELL!

Then they'll just say we can't listen to music either. Now, let me tell you a little secret. Chels can't function when set to moderate a single task. I am, by nature, a multi-tasker, especially when it comes to having to do something I care nothing about. For example: the Mexican border crossing records from 1903 that I'm scanning today. If I don't have something else to do, like email people, or draw or write poetry in Notepad, then I will fall asleep staring at this damn screen for five hours a day. And then I'll miss ALL the images that I'm supposed to be monitoring instead of keeping tabs on them all out of the corner of my eye.

I mean, really. and then they wonder why the turnover rate for part-timers is so high. It's because if you're a part-time employee the environment is excruciatingly painful to work in, the fulltimers can IM and email and do whatever they want...

It makes me want to throw rocks and burn things.

No more email? Gee, mister! That's swell.

At least we get free counseling services, I can go whine to someone an hour a week on company money and tell them how much I hate my job, but can't leave until I get a new one. Which isn't going too well at the moment.

[deep angry voice]Damn the Utah job market! You damn dirty job market! Damn it all to hell![/deep angry voice]

BUGGER! I just used up 11 minutes of my 15 minutes break time to bitch about how corporate america is killing my soul, man. It's killing my soul.


Miserably,
Chels

And Now for Something Completely Different

In other news...

I have no other news.







Wait, I lied. I'm going to see Jackass 2 after work today, and I can't TELL you how excited I am about it.

Also, my crush on Syd has expanded by 300%. I did the math.



Okay, so I didn't really do that math, that's just a guesstimate. I don't think it can expand, actually.











There are cartoon pencils on my desktop here at work. Because someone submitted them for the monthly wallpaper contest. Which was instigated to conform all Imaging Department desktops in a spirit of Professionalism.



I am the only employee to be doubled over in pain at the irony of this.



People in groups are morons. All of them. Especially when it comes to voting for desktop wallpaper.



I hate you, coworkers. I. HATE. YOU.




It's still raining. I am in a good mood.













Fine, there was news after all. Don't ask me why I spaced this post like this. I think I did it to make it seem like there's more than there actually is, like when you eat a row and a half of oreos and then spread the remaining oreos out through the box in attempt to dupe your poor, overworked father when he gets home from his day job and wants to watch Everybody Loves Raymond reruns with some cookies.






Not that I've ever done that. Allegedly.













ChelsEdit: Tab THIS, you damn italics!! *face punch*

Nothing bloggy to post today, really...

In other news, I finally saw 40 Year-old Virgin for the first time yesterday. Holy crap, I have not laughed that hard since a conversation I had with my sister that went something like this:


QUOTE (My sister)
"I did not bake the chocolate!"

QUOTE (Me)
"I said take the chocolate, Laura. I swear, you have hearing problems."

QUOTE (My sister)
"I do not have urine problems!!"



Also, if you haven't started listening to Augie March yet, I hate you. You should. They are an awesome band. "Song in the Key of Chance" is on my list of Top Ten Favorite Songs That Aren't By Pink Floyd.



That's all. I'm off to finish my hunt for Deep Purple mp3s.

Avast!

And now, since I'm currently feeling lazy, and this bit of what I emailed to Syd made me laugh, I'm going to cop out and use it as my blog post. Until I get super-bored later and decide to add on to it here and there throughout the remainder of the day. Well, the workday anyway.

Good lord, I'm in a weird mood today. It's sad. In spite of it being International Talk Like A Pirate Day, which is my favorite holiday, I have hitherto spent the day in a rather foul mood due to a long bout of deck staining (nowhere NEAR as piratish as it sounds) which the Mum had me up and doing at 7 this morning. I mean, seriously, if I don't go to work till one o'clock, (13:00 for you people on...whatever that time measurement is called...it's not metric, is it? *Eddie Izzard doing his American impression* "Yah...get outta here with yer goddamn commie metric system!") why on earth would I need to get up at 7?

Besides, I was up until 2:30 this morning playing Mercenaries. I didn't intend to be up that early, but I lost all track of time hunting down renegade North Koreans. I think most of it was due to some subconscious fervor to find and kill the person who's to blame for Kim Jong Il's ridiculous haircut. And even though I know Mr. KJI 's not involved whatsoever in the plot of Mercenaries, I still just got some sort of personal satisfaction knowing I mowed down a lot of North Koreans and probably got his barber somewhere in the mix.

I confess, there's also another reason contributing to my lack-luster piratey mood. I didn't have time to fix my hair today. Because I decided to spend as long in the shower as possible so that I could de-stain myself. And then, I had to throw on the first thing I could find, which turned out to be jeans, my Teen Girl Squad (What's Her Face!) baseball tee, a black hoodie, my pair of ancient Vans, and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles beanie. Consequently, I am donning a sort of look I've named "Ubergeek the Gangsta" and that's about as unpiratey as you can get. If "unpiratey" were a word, that is.

And now, I'm here at work, and people keep eyeing my beanie with contempt and/or jealousy. It's not my fault they said it was a casual work environment and we have no dress code. (Well, except that you need to be dressed.) And there's not a lick of anything to do, so I decided to keelhaul you in the bilgewater of my ramblings.



It's the Cheeziest,

Chels