Artful Scheme of Happiness

G*d, I love cats!
especially in pie

It breaks my heart to have to report that Kitty Mews-A-Lot and I are no longer friends. Mewsie might not know it yet, but it's over between us.

I've been working twelve hour days lately, which is neither here nor there except that you can imagine that I am more than normally tired when I get home. So I don't really appreciate having my sleep disturbed. I especially don't appreciate the fact that last night, at 1:45, that damned cat (quiet for the first time in its life) pushed the screen out of my bedroom window, crawled into my bedroom, AND JUMPED ONTO ME. I screamed (screamed like Ned Flanders) because, you know, I had been fast asleep. Kitty screamed and meowed hello. And, let me tell you, hilarity ensued.

The screen is now tacked shut, thank God, but I have a twitch in my left eyelid that doesn't seem to want to go away. I wish I were lying, but it's true. It's all true.

In other news, I recently mistook "cumin" for "cinnamon" and made a batch of new, unimproved "now Middle Eastern" snack bars. Also, my very good friend had a baby and didn't name it David. The bus still sucks (I saw the Bhucatan lady again today and giggled to myself), yoga is still spanking me, the weather has turned hot and horrible, and I miss my family (vacationing in Cozumel). So now you know.

posted by art @ 9:20 PM

On the 3d day he rose again

I have to admit, I LOVE the idea that someone out there was, briefly, concerned that I may have been consumed by the fires raging within my head. And it WAS pretty touch and go there for a while, I should tell you. (The whining at one point almost reached critical mass.) But somehow, in spite of the odds, I've been pulled back from the brink. I credit my recovery to the practice of yoga.

Yes, I've been doing yoga, and may I just say, yoga kicks my ass. I lie there (or squat there or crouch there, whatever is required at the moment) with my legs trembling, wondering how I'm going to make it through one little hour of stretching. My teacher tells me that the trembling (I like to call it delirium tremens) is one step away from levitation, but I don't believe her. I think the trembling stems from the fact that I have no muscles. But whatever, I think I'll pretend that I'm almost levitating.

By the way, I've taken three whole classes, so if you need any pointers, DON'T ASK ME.

posted by art @ 7:19 AM

Is It Any Wonder?

Stretched to the breaking point by my selfless devotion to work, my already fragile health has given way. I know, I know. You're asking yourself, "How could such a strong man be brought so low?" It's the mighty cold virus, I tell you.

I'd write more, but I'm delirious with a 101 degree fever. For real.

posted by art @ 10:09 PM

Another Sad Story of a Ride I Took

I promised my coworkers that I would bring in a flower to liven up our dreary corporate surroundings. So I've been bringing a flower from my yard in when necessary. First, it was a bright orange poppy. But poppies don't last more than a day, poor fragile things. So this morning I brought in a chive flower. A single, perfectly formed, pale purple chive flower (on a bright green chive stem).

So I was standing on the elevator this morning, gently clutching the chive flower in my fist. The other people on the elevator were giving me looks, but I work on a higher floor than they do, so I felt superior enough to keep on clutching proudly. But then (isn't there always a "but then") I hear a shout. "Hold the elevator!" This woman, this horrible, cheerful, hurried woman, comes racing onto the elevator with a HUGE bouquet of wildflowers in her hands. Not seeing my proud, elegant chive, she shouts out, "I grow these in my garden because I JUST LOVE FLOWERS." The elevator gushes praise for her overly colorful agglomeration. Tears fill my tired eyes.

Two possible endings for this story, suggested by my helpful, cynical coworkers: I could have shouted out, "This is my lunch! It's the Hollywood Chive Diet." OR "I found this on the street and I'm taking it upstairs to throw it away."

Actual ending to this story: I lower my fist, briefly ashamed of my lonely little chive. Then I raise it again proudly. My flower is beautiful AND delicious. Plus, it will live on a higher floor.

posted by art @ 10:04 PM

Eavesdropping On Idiots
The Magic Continues

I overheard the most fascinating conversation on the bus this afternoon. It was held by an unattractive man wearing a Confederate Army hat (who announced loudly that he and his life partner were moving to Canada to take advantage of the domestic partnership laws -- you can imagine my shock) and a cane-wielding woman coming in from some far-flung suburb to shop at a K-mart north of the city. They were talking about the most beautiful place on earth. It turns out there are several candidates. New Zealand is one. You should go there. Waterfalls, mountains, it has everything. Only downfall? You can't understand a single word anyone says because they all have mangled "English prisoner accents."

The other most beautiful place on earth? Yucatan, a "Buddhist theocracy" somewhere to the northeast of India. It's like what the "Garden of Eden must have been like." Well, no, it's not called Yucatan. No, it must be "Bhucatan." (This is where I laughed out loud.) Yes, yes, Bhucatan. It's beautiful there. Plus, it's recommended by two out of every fifty bus riders.

posted by art @ 11:22 PM

My Life: A Series of Bus Rides

Friday: Mother and Boy (think Little Man Tate, the worrier) talk loudly about being evicted from their motel for non-payment. Boy worries (you can hear the ulcer growing). Then Mother reminds Boy that G*d will provide. Boy cheers up while my heart breaks. If I had had any money, I would have given all of it to them.

Saturday: Man and Woman fight over who ruined whose life. Second man offers them pastries. They eat pastries and the world is ok again. Until Man eats more than his fair share of Woman's Lemon Poppyseed Bread. Fighting starts anew. I disembark.

Monday: After 11 1/2 hours of work, I board the bus for my 1/2 hour ride home. I walk past Man kneeling on floor of bus, VOMITING like a man possessed. Too tired to care, I walk to the front of the bus and dream of sawdust. Man continues to vomit loudly for several stops. I hum to myself. Man is evicted from bus. I feel bad for him.

This is my life, and all the stories are 100% true. It's very Jim's Journal.

posted by art @ 9:54 PM

Pure Joy

I'm sorry I haven't posted this sooner. I'm trying to work sixty hours per week, which leaves room for not much else in my life but sleep and Sorority Life.

My oldest friend in the world (accounts differ on when exactly we became friends, but we've known each other for over 25 years) got engaged recently, and I couldn't be happier for him. I wish him and his fiancee a lifetime of perfect, heavenly bliss.

posted by art @ 11:24 AM