Ballad of Tuesday 12 January 1999

7:52 PM: I'm having the strangest cravings for either chocolate or Chicken McNuggets. I ate lunch today, so I'm not hungry. I'm fairly confident that I'm not pregnant. So what the up is here, I don't know. What do chocolate and Chicken McNuggets have in common, besides the "ch" sound? Sugar and fat, sugar and fat, that's where I am, that's where it's at!

Just more of this sitting around like the silly sister in a Jane Austen story, who stares out windows at rainy landscapes and sighs heavily, wishing something romantic and extraordinary would happen. Bored? A little bit I suppose. Work is here to do but it's nebulous. And work, anyway, work, god that's all there is, isn't it? Call me Wolf Boy. You can see something pinging around inside that skull, but all that comes out are barking coughs.

9:47: Settled for cheddar Ruffles. "ch". "ch". "ch". The Little The Engine That Could Have If It Had Really Wanted To But Had Mixed Feelings About The Whole Thing And Decided To Stay Home Instead And Watch Buffy.

Ooooh, lookie here. The Worldcon this year is in Melbourne, Australia. Hmmmmmmm. I liked Melbourne a lot when I was there. Then again, my company was covering my cab fares and I was going out every night to dance, drink, and fall down. But think how much more I know now about how to do that! Well, the last two bits, anyway. And I never go anywhere. I've been carrying 240 hours of vacation - the maximum you can accrue - for, what, a year? two years? But geez, $2500, $3000 ...... And no credit, either. Oh big deal, what's that, a year's worth of cab fares? You're still living off the memory of that Tasmania trip. Yah yah yah, I'm still paying for it too, I bet. If only I knew someone who worked in the travel business and might know a thing or two about Worldcons... Oh, but who could that be?

(heh.)

11:10: I never expected an REM album to sound like Stereolab but there you go, that's how much expectations matter.

Oh, there go the lights. Better go.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep. © 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.