November 14th, 2005


(no subject)

in fifteen minutes I must go to the person who controls my access to my drugs and explain why I have not yet piddled in a cup for them and it is not because I am trying to hide anything as the only drug I'm taking that might show up is the klonopin and that's fine with them but the deal is that I have to call on the phone to make each appointment to go get the cup and fill it. you all know how that goes with me. it's the sort of thing that takes me about six months to think about before actually doing it which is why the cat's vaccinations are always late and my teeth have to crumble before I go to the dentist and why it will be three months of no credit card payments until I get a lawyer to tell them all that they can't threaten me anymore (although I am not actually reading or hearing their threats as I do not answer the phone or read mail from banks) and why I never get my bloodwork done at the intervals I am supposed to and why it never occurs to me that I could actually hear a friend's voice if I wanted to.

so I will explain all this and hopefully delay exasperation one more month. if there were a way to get into the computer and schedule all my appointments we'd be home free and I think there might be and I think I will ask her if we can do that.

the phone thing is nearly a disability. I cannot even explain the problem exactly but it has something to do with the fact that when you are on the phone you are in a relationship that demands that there be conversation every second and I just don't do those sorts of relationships.

teaching is done for the week and we are forging on and the concepts are difficult both to learn and explain and I am going to try to keep things under control a little more next week although I just don't know of any easy way to present postmodern and deconstructive thought. its celebrated obscurity is supposedly one of its faults and something that makes it less-than-credible--a charge that theoretical physics never has to answer--but in any case explaining it in simple terms is only barely possible.

I will post my notes later today. you'll see what I mean. right now I need coffee on the one hand and a nap on the other.
  • Current Mood
    drained drained
mutts earl

new food obsession

suddenly the food that satisfies me is pizza with mushrooms, onions and sliced tomatoes, with lots of oregano sprinkled on top. it's like taking a pizza and putting the ingredients for pizza sauce on top of the pizza sauce. it's really good if you like pizza sauce.

plus cheese of course.

mmmmmm goood.
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    pleased pleased


patti was just about as awesome as ever, fucking up and being goofy and singing as hard as she possibly could. it was her and lenny kaye for about half the set, then they were joined by her daughter jessie on keyboard and a crew member whose name did not stick on its way through my brain on bass. they did mostly old stuff this time which is unusual. I don't think they did anything off of Gung Ho and only a few tracks off the other three "post" albums. there are three, right?

at some point I was so tired that I was listening with my eyes closed and having a difficult time remaining upright. I would swaaaaay one way and then swaaaaaaay back like that person who is trying not to fall asleep on your shoulder on the bus. but I was paying attention the whole time.

she told us not to stop going after bush and co until "their tainted blood" flowed freely. kinda mean for someone who sings a song about gandhi but I guess we are all rather angry these days.

there were characters in the audience as usual and I will perhaps describe them in more detail in the morning as I've been up since 5am. but there were: the two straight guys who were strangers to each other bonding over pot and patti, one of them warning the other that he's really touchy and likes to touch people in conversation and he hoped that was ok and I thought about saying hey you can touch me all you want; three gay men at least one of whom had had waaaay too much crystal meth and was talking at the top of his lungs about god knows what; the rock historians who narrated to everyone around them which song this was and which album it came from and there were the old fucks who told everyone about how they were at cbgb's back in the day. lisagail probably met a lot of these losers.

once again the rock concert as ethnography suggests itself as a possibility. but not tonight. I'm hallucinating dream images and I haven't even closed my eyes yet.
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    sleepy sleepy