yesterday was a day of days

last night, I called my mom to bitch. (read that again, "to bitch" not "a bitch.") Still, I'd never done that before. It was interesting. Why did I do it? I don't know. Why am I writing about it now? I don't know; it just seems significant. Why do I ask rhetorical questions in my blog? Is that a rhetorical question? <-----------this isn't

I also made a much-needed trip to the laundramat (J-school teaches you that this word needs to be capitalized, but consider my refusal to do so yet another sign of my hesitation to accept the world I have chosen). Some interesting things occurred there. First of all, I witnessed perhaps the saddest thing of my life in watching my pristine 20 dollar bill reduced to a massive heap of quarters (I HATE CHANGE. Credit cards rule a ridiculous amount and I use them to buy envelopes at the postal store even when that price comes in at a staggering 4 cents.) So that was depressing. Another bad moment came when I turned on my computer to get some work done -- my life has become one dominated by multi-tasking -- and a well-clad, albeit seductively, Diane Lane pops up on my background. No problems there. Thing is, there was a 7-year-old girl sitting right next to me who immediately honed in on the new development, making me feel like a shithead. She just stared at it, so I gave her a quick, awkward smile and opened a window as soon as I could. Of course, she proceeded to whisper about the incident to her sister, who soon came over, quite inconspiculously I might add, and sat next to me for a few brief seconds, realized the image was no longer visible, and promptly retreated. Man, I love kids. I just wish I didn't play a role in corrupting them. Lastly, later on there were two boys speaking some mad spanglish, which entertained me thouroughly. You know my infatuation. NOT with little boys, but with spanglish. They were bilingual, they were required to speak in English to each other, their dad mostly spoke English in order to encourage them, and their mother only spoke Spanish. Listening to them switch back and forth made for a near-orgasmic snooping experience. NOT because of the little boys, but because I am obsessed with linguistical things (speaking of which, if you haven't read Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson sp?, you should. Well, only if you are an ultimate nerd like me or in any way still respect me or ever did, that is).

Post-lastly, I made an improvised and ultimately titties (CO/GJ/Adam slang) dinner at midnight consisting of corn, peas, and chicken that did wonders to soothe the pallat and fill the estomago. This "Leftovers" idea may just have some legs yet....

Then, for unknown reasons, I decided to wear my old retainer -- which I haven't done in a year or so seeing as it is no longer recommended that I do -- to bed. When I woke up my gums were bleeding. And on that gruesomely classic DTM note, I depart.