sometimes it visits us at odd hours, in surprising guises, sneaking up and tapping us on the shoulder with its groucho marx glasses in place and whispering all sneaky-like into our ears while we’re in the midst of doing something totally silly and slapdash… but whenever wisdom deigns to sneak on through, I feel we should make space to acknowledge the grace of its passing. and so. on the tail end of my gazillionth round with insomnia and the latest cl experiment, I suddenly know this: there is no reason on earth that I should waste my good energy, angst or time on people who themselves make little or no effort. whew. the smartest things are damn obvious. and now, I’m going to make friends with my pillow for a few last minutes of darkness. ta ta for now.
facebook can bite me
okay, yeah, I’ve been awake for a few of the wrong hours, so maybe my patience and tact are a mite slim. and I like having a sheep thrown at me as much as the next person. but seriously. facebook’s annoyance quotient has gone seriously through the roof with all the quizzes (half of which won’t even let you see your results until you’ve spammed 10 other people, the fckers) and FUNWALL and hooha and crap. so that’s it. I’m done. if I don’t respond to your movie challenges or guess the latest celebrity couple critical contests, please don’t take it personally. I’ve just decided that facebook is the antichrist.
turkey cam!
golden deeelicious, succulent, and fallin’ of ze bone.
jeeeeeeeezus
people. I seriously don’t get how they think sometimes. it just amazes me. like this most recent nugget:
so, in a fit of annoyance over not knowing how to expand my social network to include male friends and also friends who like to get out and do things like go on photo excursions in abandoned buildings (where, to be frank, it is somewhat comforting to have a male presence), I posted an ad in the the “strictly platonic” section of craigslist last night describing said desire, plain and simple. and, simply because craigslist provides a space for you to include your age, I figured, fair enough, and included my age. no big deal.
now, I can see from scanning other ads that some people do in fact use this “strictly platonic” area to make inquiries that are, if you read not too terribly deeply between the lines, little more than hedged searches for romantic partners. so, okay. that’s out there, even though I wasn’t doing it. seriously.
so anyway, this one guy writes back to me, nothing else first, just launches in with the following: “41… Thats old as hell, but yea. Im always on foto excursions. Lets get on it!”
[channeling arlo guthrie a la alice’s restaurant massacree– take that for old, ya pip]
I mean. I mean. I meeeeeaaaannnn, come ON, buddy– how can that seem at all okay?
just, jesus.
sometimes I think to myself, man, sarah, you’re so silly to get bent out of shape about age– you know how relative and meaningless it is. but then something like this comes along and sucker-punches the wind right out of me– and I have to wonder just what the hell is wrong with people? I mean (I meeeean), why even bother replying? why, um, hel-lo, say yes??
totally weird.
ahem.
| delete |
(oh, and just so you don’t think I’m all bile and hate, some of the responses have been very pleasant indeed, some of the correspondence even downright delightful– so, yeah, it’s a mixed bag and all. I just had to put my sense of righteous outrage at people’s stupidity and rudeness someplace. thankyouandgoodnight. no turkey for someone, that‘s for sure.)
melinda me
tomorrow (well, today, officially) I will cook the turkey I received from work for last thanksgiving. it’s been sitting in my freezer, taking up a whole bunch of space, and earlier today (well, yesterday— dang, insomnia makes things confusing) I decided the time had come to put old tom in the oven, so now he’s thawing. I’m only one rather small person, so I’m feeling a bit like shel silverstein’s melinda mae… actually, that goes for a lot of things right now.