since no one's around to hear my amusing story:

I'm very particular about my toilette; it's one of the few areas in my life where I insist on absolute and unwavering routine. after showering I dry off, apply deodorant, brush my teeth, and begin to dress. I also choose a cologne and spray it on my chest exactly twice.

today, rather than spritzing with cologne, my addled mind took a breather and I liberally coated my rather hirsute torso with spray hair gel before I could realize that the bottle was entirely the wrong size, color, and shape.

although I rectified the situation immediately, I contemplated not doing so. for if I am caught outside in fifty mile-per-hour winds without my shirt later tonight, my chest may get somewhat rumpled now. oh, well. it's a chance I'll take.

southward ho.

lucky.

1) I'm lucky to have my job. it's pleasant, steady, and I have some great co-workers. most importantly, it provides me with enough money to buy pretty much whatever I want. okay, no new maserati or anything. but if I feel like picking up some godiva chocs or some dvds or somethin, I can just go and do it.

2) I'm lucky to live in greensboro. it's large enough to be entertaining (anyone who complains about gso being boring just doesn't look around enough) but small enough to feel safe and familiar.

3) I'm lucky to live with josh. there aren't many people that I can really speak with and say whatever's on my mind without fear of seeming too random, too dense, or just flat out annoying. stream of consciousness relationships are rare; I tally up three in my lifetime. so it's good to live with one.

4) I'm lucky to have my apartment. granted it's a hellish commute to t-vegas from here, but not even in the chair city could we get a place like ours for the price.

5) I'm lucky to have my friends here. they're such a kooky bunch, and they all seem to understand when I get too caught up in my own little world to be with them as much as I'd like.

[furrows brow, ponders leaving greensboro]

unrelated note: does anyone remember the part in the stand where the scientist becomes obsessed with the spinning centrifuge in the laboratory filled with dead workers? how he consults the computer to ascertain the likelihood of the thing burning out before he goes friggin nuts? I feel his pain. the dryer must be repaired before the squeaking drives me bananas.

oh, and new links to your left.

good night at work. read p.g. wodehouse, discovered that an error had been made in my favor, and only a little overtime.

sad that wesley clark has bowed out of the running for prez biz. but I, like many americans I'm sure, am willing to throw my support behind whichever democratic candidate is chosen at the last. I'll bet even the 'rents are with me on this one. (former bush supporters both, although dad's usually as much a straight-ticket democrat as mom's a straight-ticket r-word. examining their political beliefs shows their policies to be even more absurd than they would be in most people.)

vague rumors of nasty weather prompted a d.j. to humorously remind his listeners to buy milk and bread. which made me think that the same people who run out to buy those things would also advise people to boil water when a woman is delivering a baby-- there's no concrete reason for doing that, by the way, at least not that I've found. one theory is that it was traditionally done to keep the expectant father out from under foot. I believe that. anyway:

if milk + bread = dumb and milk + bread = boiling water, then milk + bread = boiling water. you can't argue with that. no. don't even try.

new at petrified fountain: bubba ho-tep. see, I told you I'd review something new.

wackta weekend. little party at mary hobbs with the carra crew that got busted up and slapped with a fine. I paid out eight bucks for beer that got confiscated. hey, it was worth the excitement. although it might not be worth the alcohol fine for our gracious host, though we all offered to chip in.

to chapel hill tonight to see the aforementioned film. also went to strong's coffee, where I boggled at the energetic groups of fresh young collegiates talking about important things. culture and things. I thought, "gee. I miss doing that." then I realized that I never really did that. oh well.

signs of continuing spiral into madness:
1) newly piqued interest in kraftwerk
2) wearing a tie when drinking ritz brand soda (even with no one around to chuckle at it)
3) increasing ability to relate to aunt ada doom in cold comfort farm
4) overhearing at least one conversation a day that I dismiss as "bourgeois"
5) wondering too often if getting shot in the leg with a small caliber bullet could really hurt all that much

hi-ho!