december 2002

click here for permalink December 27, 2002

The world didn't waste any time post-Christmas before getting on with the weirdness, did it? Today's news was chock-full of cloning cults, nuclear threats, suicide bombers, killer storms and exploding meth labs...

Tra la la la laaa...

Had a great holiday — how about y'all? We spent Christmas out in the country partaking of holiday fun and festive foods like creamed corn, homemade cranberry sauce, fondue-it-yourself prawns and those little shortbread-lemon square things I couldn't seem to stop eating even after Mr. Pink's sister's digital, accurate-to-the-half-pound scale pronounced me five pounds over what I weighed this summer.

(Oh, that can't be right... it must be these sweat pants — that drawstring alone has gotta be a half a pound... and those socks, what was I thinking... there... huh, lost a pound and a half... hmm... necklaces... t-shirt? Okay, let's call it two... ugh. Either way.)

So, the Raelian corporate-front known as Clonaid claims to have successfully, er, made the first human clone with the birth of — what else? — Eve on Thursday, December 26th at 11:55 AM (in an "undisclosed country," unfortunately for my fellow astrologers).

I don't know about you but I'm less horrified and more plain old curious to see what the hell comes of this whole cloning thing... it's interesting. Science fiction in real life, right now — and that's a cool thing about being alive nowadays... that and, you know, all the vaccines.

click here for permalink December 24, 2002

Hey, everyone... happy holidays... mine have been the most low-key, least holidayish on record, I have to say. But somehow the lack of a tree or the usual gaudy, flashing, multi-colored strands of lights in every corner of my apartment isn't as depressing at it should be.

After all, since our building had its usual lobby decorations and festive tree illuminations up before anyone else in the neighborhood, all I've had to do to get a dose of holiday spirit this year is step outside.

Besides, the whole month has gone by so quickly (although I can't exactly say that I've been busy) that I don't know if I would have been prepared for the holidays even if I was feeling Christmas-y. Well, at least I've known roughly what day it was, most of the time — unlike Mr. Pink, who was genuinely astounded by my reply of "the 22nd" when he asked for the date on Sunday.

He was convinced that it was really somewhere around the 12th and that I was just fucking with him... Anyway, we're off to the country for dinner and pumpkin pie (Mr. Pink's specialty)... happy holidays, everyone! And a big "welcome home" to DT, who recently returned from his extended vacation south of the border... it's grrrreat to have you back, sweetie!

click here for permalink December 17, 2002

Oh, Alice... I feel your pain, girlfriend, I really do. And I gotta hand it to you... at six weeks, I think your trials have taken on far more Job-like proportions than mine ever did.

Are there any etymology fans in the house? I know this doesn't seem like much of a segue but I found this cool site while searching for the correct spelling and usage of a bizarre German word... so, anyway, check it out if you like learning the origins of words like Katzenjammer; from the German (although not the word I was looking for), meaning:

  1. a loud, discordant noise
  2. a hangover
  3. a state of depression or bewilderment

Hmmm... you learn something new every day. My favorites are the Philip K. Dick-derived words, like "chickenhead" and "kipple" (meaning decaying entropic trash).

click here for permalink December 14, 2002

Aaaaalright, alright... where the hell have I been? Three of the significant women in my life, separated by two thousand miles, are on the same cycle of tolerance with my lapses in communication.

Within twelve hours, I received messages from all of them yesterday asking me why the hell I haven't updated. Well, the sad truth is that I haven't been able to successfully turn any of the last 19 oppressively boring days' events into a few paragraphs worth uploading.

It's not that I haven't done anything... I've been working and — as usual — watching plenty of TV. We even went to a Christmas party last weekend. In fact, we showed up on time, which totally freaked out our friends who are so accustomed to seeing us show up after midnight, if we show up at all, that they were almost at a loss for a greeting (except for the host, whose warm welcome was expressed by plucking me off my feet and sweeping me into the bedroom, throwing me onto a huge pile of coats and tackling me while growling like a pit bull as I gasped for breath laughing).

A few days later, Mr. Pink had left for the studio to work on some music and, just as I was about to settle down for an evening of solitude and self pity, I got a call from a friend I hadn't seen in months saying she was in the neighborhood and wanting to come over.

No sooner had I changed clothes and made some semblance of order out of my face and hair, she was here. So much for cleaning up the apartment, I thought — but then, I've found that it doesn't ever look as bad to anyone else as it does to me... We've got one of those small, artfully cluttered apartments that so reflects the interests and artistic expressions of its inhabitants — and is so obsessively organized, out of the necessity of fitting it all in here — that the amount of detail and texture in the room actually, miraculously, seems intentional.

Not to get off topic, but I've actually been told I have must an rare talent for decorating for the simple reason that there's no way a one bedroom with this much stuff in it should look or feel remotely comfortable, much less inviting and attractive. Which it is... I've seen it suck people in time and time again, melting away the stress and anxieties they came in with and lulling them into staying long past whatever time they said they were leaving, frequently making them forget or cancel plans just so they could remain on the couch and enjoy the strange, cocoonish quality of our living room.

Anyway, just as we were getting through the "what have you been up to" stuff, the phone rang and another friend who hadn't called in weeks began ranting at me about unreturned calls and demanding that we agree on a night to go for dinner and get reacquainted. It was so unexpected, not to mention out of character, that I almost forgot to hurry off the phone and attend to my guest. But it was only the beginning; within an hour of her arrival, there were two more calls from people I hadn't heard from in at least a month and, within the week that followed, at least three more. When it rains... well, it rains a lot.

But with regards to my recent lack of motivation to write anything interesting... it can't be a lack of topic, I realize, now that I'm seven paragraphs into a dissertation on nothing... as anyone who's read my lengthy diatribes on microwave popcorn or bra shopping was probably already thinking. Heh.

Maybe I'm just be under the influence of an unparalleled lazy streak. Anyway, I was writing to say that I've got another Right Here, Right Now article for y'all to read over at ignorance.tv and that I've started a new section, to which I hope to contribute regularly. Since it's all I seem to really be interested in lately, when it comes to books and research, I thought I might as well get off my ass and write about some of my astrological observations. If I can effortlessly reel off a thousand words exploring the planetary significance of some little thing that fascinated me for an hour or so, I might as well "publish" it here, I'm thinking... whether I actually expect anyone to understand it — or be interested — or not.

So, with that dubious introduction, heh, my first such entry is here.