what I want more than anything is a cure for the common migraine. if a cure is unavailable, then I'd please like a drill to let some happy back into my head.


dear world,

please keep it down for the next six to twelve hours.

love, matt.


I didn't deserve this one.

a list of minor goings-wrong, which in their entirety make up a very bad day.

we had to (read: volunteered to) drive friends to the airport at 3:00 in the morning yesterday/this morning. got back at five. slept not-at-all well and not nearly long enough.

my ipod's battery died with hours of work ahead of me.

the network hiccupped at a crucial moment (right as I saved all my work and was logging off), choosing that exact time to disconnect my computer and somehow in the process delete all the updates and entries I had made during the day. that's right, I worked all day and at the end have nothing to show for it. nothing. it is gone. all gone. unceremoniously deleted.

the cute co-workin' girl at work had her last day today. she leaves for ireland soon.

my throat hurts, and relatedly, my voice is on the outs. I am short-sighted: the tea I took to soothe it was very probably caffeinated which is why I can't sleep even though I'd quite like to.

the ctrl button on my keyboard is currently finnicky. unresponsive. in a 'phase.'

I can't get quicken's online update features to work properly.

I can't find a certain power adapter I need to find. I can't find my new online banking pin that I swore I wrote down right here two minutes ago. I can't find my keys, my coat, my wallet, my shoes. oh I found my keys but set them down to look for my shoes and found my shoes but forgot where I put my keys. I can't find my sanity.

we're out of clean spoons. it's my turn to do the dishes and I have no one to blame but me.

we're nearly out of comfort-flavor ice cream. … moot'd! no spoons.

it feels like today should have been a friday, but no. I still have that to look forward to.


as the venerable douglas adams might say in such a situation:
'this must be thursday. I never could get the hang of thursdays.'

thank you, mr adams. you left me just when I needed you most.

moderator: mr. bush, what is your favorite color?

george bush: let me preface my answer in this way: I'm the best man for the job of president of the united states. in four years I've spectacularly done blah blah blah blah blah pin-a-rose-on-my-nose and look at how shiny and new the world is now.

moderator: mr. kerry, your response, please.

john kerry: you incompetent clod, you're the least best man for the job. in four years you've tried to blah blah blah blah blah but you've bollocksed it up and now look at the world! the world sucks! kim jong il is going to kill us all and it's your fault!

bush: nuh-uh!

kerry: yes-huh!

bush: nuh-uh, you snobby elitist billionaire yale frat-boy!

kerry: I know you are but what am I?

and on and on and on and on and

neither candidate answered the questions; they answered the questions they wished the moderator had asked. and where were the third-party candidates? not invited. and you ridiculous politicians dare to call this a democracy. come on.

my favorite part was when the moderator asked each candidate to 'say something mean and bad about the other guy.' each tried oh-so-hard not to, tried oh-so-hard to come off as a compassionate sensible human being, and only after that formality had been done away with would they launch into what they really, really wanted: blatant partisan negativity! it's like when your mum says you have to eat your broccoli before you can have dessert.

if a streaker had squeaked past security and had gotten onto the debate floor, I would have voted for him (her, it, whatever) instead.

seriously, though. I didn't learn anything about either man, other than they must have practiced a long long long time for tonight's little charade. nothing else.

freedom, I got here too late.

this won't match the standard I've set for myself because simply I'm just too tired now. I'm sorry for getting your hopes up and everything. I know I did. I'm intuitive like that. if I were a superhero I'd walk around with a big N on my chest and I'd be called N-tuitive boy.

but that's not why I'm here.

RUM & COKE is why I'm here.

I think I put too much RUM in the glass. I don't remember how much was in the glass when he stopped pouring. it couldn't have been too much, otherwise my mates would have said 'whoa there matt you'd better watch it' but I don't remember them saying that and now they're gone so I can't ask them. at any rate I filled the rest of the glass with COKE so the RUM was probably pretty diluted when all was said and done and poured.

I can't find my nice fuzzy warm sweatshirt and it's the time of night when evertyhing starts getting cold.

<liver> DAMN IT matt you've got to stop, give me a freaking vacation
<matt> YOU'LL TAKE WHAT I GIVE YOU AND YOU'LL PROCESS IT TO THE BEST OF YOUR ABILITY
<liver> you're the boss
<brain> matt, he has a point; I mean, even I find it hard to work in this low-oxygen environment. in fact all I can do is this:
<matt> qasoinfg;j WHOA BRAIN WHY IS THE ROOM SPINNING
<brain> lack of oxygen, man. it's all I'm capable of
<kidneys> WE NEED OVERTIME PAY OR WE'RE GOING TO GO ON STRIKE
<matt> OKAY OKAY you organs everything will be okay, I'll just drink this magic elixir and everything will return to normal, like it was yesterday
*matt drinks magic elixir
<brain> THAT'S THE STUFF
<liver> AAAAHH FAILURE IS IMMINENT
<kidneys> UNABLE TO KEEP UP WITH INPUT
<spleen> for chrissakes will you all keep it down? I'm trying to sleep and OH GOOD HEAVENS, WHAT AN INTERESTING SENSATION, I FEEL FUZZY
<matt> thank you magic elixir a.k.a. RUM AND COKE, you have ruined my evening but it feels so nice
<RUM AND COKE> BEHOLD MY MAGIC, I AM SIMULTANEOUSLY WARM AND COLD AND BUBBLY
<matt> in the best possible way.
<brain> this isn't so bad I suppose, HEY I'VE GOT AN IDEA, LET'S POST TO HATELIFE!

Tim, my friend who was given AIDS from the blood transfusion, and his wife, who subsequently got it from Tim, are packing up and moving to Brazil. they're not dying. they're living. I've had it wrong all this time.

depression (real/imagined) will do that to a guy, I guess.

—


developments.

1. developed a new, highly unexpected journal crush. and she hadn't even seen my picture yet.

2. carried on four simultaneous message exchanges this afternoon/evening. it's a miracle I kept them all straight.

3. witnessed someone get bombed back to the stone age this evening by the jagermeister federation and her ally, the union of soviet vodka republics.


-

[aside: sign on the bar said 'if you drive your man to drink, drive him here.' clever.]


brain says that the time for sleep has come.

who am I to fight inevitability? I am no one.

I love you all so much.

The new The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers DVD super dooper extendo version is out at last! It has twenty-seven-and-a-half weeks of extra features, including over 190 cast and crew commentaries in seven languages, biographies of everyone who has seen the movie, and its own instruction manual, all in a 75-pound, 550-disc set.

I've wanted it ever since I laid eyes on it and now I own it. That is, me and the forty-odd friends who went in on it with me. But I keep in my possession a substantial amount of the story of the middle years of the great and terrible Sir Balrog of Morgoth, as well as the exclusive 9-hour docu-drama, "The Making Of Saruman's Fingernails."

But my love of my precious trilogy did not begin with the films, no no. Long have I lusted after these tremendous tales. In fact—and you can't tell this to anyone—I have the very helmet worn by the mean nasty evil Sauron himself. Mind you, I speak not of the Sauron in the movie, but the real, the actual Sauron. Oh yeah. Sorry to rub it in your faces, all you fair-weather fans.

Yes, it can be verily said in all the lands of Middle-earth, there never was a Ringie as great as I. I am the One Ringie to rule them all, baby.