wow I'm gone

The subject line says it all. Since I stopped drinking on a regular basis my tolerance has gone through the floor, in the parlance of our times. Several white russians send me to that blissful no worries place that makes me realize why so many of my family members have been alcoholics at one point or another.

It's very wrong that I like a Nickleback song, yes it is. The bar was staffed by the more friendly and cordial Janet tonight, which resulted in stiff drinks on a regular basis, at least for me. We had great fun mocking the various scary karoke singers, and I told Chris all about the secret illegal underground cabaret party of doom! that I saw in NYC. He was duly impressed.

Some days, I realize the fine line between myself and the characters I write for, both here and other places. It's a strange thing, to recognize yourself in an unexpected place. I thought Anna was nothing like me, but she is me in a sense. So is Meier, and Lucius, and the others. It's definitely easier than having children.

This song makes me wish I was older, or that I grew up in another place. I have a romance with the 80s that will never die, despite the interesting times that were my teenage years. What an odd thing to be almost 24.

you don't need too much

Few songs are as excellent as Fischerspooner's "Hidden Track." Seriously. This is the best song produced in the new century.

If I was more on the down side of manic, I would be cleaning. Instead I contented myself with spraying Lysol at the rats trying to dig through our ceiling. I kid you not. They're digging around the vent from our stove. I listened to them for a moment, watching a tiny chunk of plaster come down, and then I let loose with a blast of toxic chemical spray. I heard something squeak, and I feel somewhat malicious and evil for causing pain to another creature like that. But damn it all I don't want the rats in my kitchen. Damn the beasts.

I wish Alan would hurry up with this Tekken 4 tournament and come back to me.