Holiday blahs.

Wow. So weird, all this time I haven't been able to sleep here and lately I come in and sleep the sleep of the dead. I'm like, awake, fully awake, for what feels like the first time in months.

Last night, with a little help from morlock, I figured out how to do full-length posts from my phone. Lemony fresh victory is mine. I was going to post something to that effect from the phone last night, but true to form, hit a wrong button and the phone ate the post.

Vicki is watching Ellen, who just completed a hilarious but poignant rant about how Christmas season is starting earlier and earlier as the years go by. Nothing nobody else hasn't said, but her comparison of the craziness to the melting of the polar ice caps was great. "Here we will be, caroling in July in waist deep water. Boy, then we'll be sorry."

*sigh* I am rather appalled by the appearance of Christmas crap in July. I seriously believe I should see not a peep of holiday stuff until the week of thanksgiving. Cause of course, look what happens, it's the day of thanksgiving and I'm already tired of seeing it. And that pisses me off, 'cause I'm one of those people that is absolutely unabashed about loving the holidays. Course, they're SUCH a big deal in New York... so growing up here does kinda reinforce that. Of course, my rabid Christmas bounciness has been tempered with a healthy does of cynicism... kinda like every holiday. bleh.

I try to live every day like it was a gift (though admittedly at the end of some I'm looking rather frantically for a "returns and exchanges" counter). I'm a little mixed about the sentiment about how people should treat every day/night like a holiday, because it immediately brings up that line from The Incredibles: "Once everyone is 'special'... no one will be." On one hand that could be a good thing. On the other... hmmm.

I posted a longass stream of consciousness type rant about stuff in my other journal... some of this is touching on the crap I vomited forth. maybe later I'll pull out some of the stuff that excercise dredged up and explore it further, but for now, Vicki has converted some of last night's ham into down home country breakfast, so I need to go now...

Oh no, Dad's cranked up the Sara Brightman again. I'm all for grieving, but even Mom's gotta be sick of it by now. *sigh* poor guy.

oh yeah...

hey emily_1126...

Happy Birthday!

an early present from me to you - junk mail volume xviii!

Well, it's been a while since I did one of these, mostly because quite frankly, I think Hotmail got better at blocking junk mail. My supply of easy targets simply dried up like a bottle of Evian in the Sahara. But fortunately for me, there came the whole little thing where if you get five suckers friends to sign away their souls and their inboxes you get a free ipod. I already have an iPod, mind, but I must admit one of the reasons why I helped one of my friends to hopefully get his was to get more junk mail to deride. Seems to be paying off, on both ends. :)

LOOK AT MY SMALL TITS ON WEBCAM - ... 'cause apparently the Internet has retired the big ones.

Grab it - Spin it! Flick it! Pull it! Twist it! Bop it!

I am looking for a man, interested? - If it helps, I lose mine under the bed all the time. Keep it away from the cats, ok?

American Talent Directory - Considering what my inbox usually has in it, I fully expected this to be full of nearly naked teens. Imagine my surprise. They actually want talent. Nothing funny. They just like talent.

watch naked girls now - You can watch naked girls when we get home, you don't need to watch them now.

It's.the.f-r-e-e.p0rn.club - ...this one gets a musical interlude.

It's.the.f-r-e-e.p0rn.club!

(bah bahbah bah, bah bahbah bah, dada, dada da da, baaaaaaa... )

It's time to strip to music
It's time to surf the sites
It's time to wake the fluffers at the f-r-e-e.p0rn.club tonight!

It's time to get the hand cream
It's time to stroke it right
It's time to watch the webcams at the f-r-e-e.p0rn.club tonight.

Why do we always cum here
I guess we'll never know
Damn, it's been at least five years
Since I've had a good blow

And now let's get things started
Why don't you get things started
It's time to get things started
On the most sensational inspirational celebrational masturbational
This is what we call the f-r-e-e.p0rn.cluuuuuuuuuuuuuuub!

Well. That beats singing "P is for Pussy, that's good enough for me..."

I am a witty banter... - Uh... huh. I'm sure you are.

I am alone, kjpepper naH - Nah? what's that short for, nahnee nahnee boo boo? Matuuuuuuuuuuuure.

Attack of the Cialis ads:

They'll go out of their way to get in "yours" - well, granted there is that claw foot tub at the parents'...

stand at attention - Somehow, I don't think you want the first thing people doing upon seeing your wang is saluting.

Naturally 20 - Scary for two reasons. 1) I first read this as "natural 20", which just makes this so much more wrong. 2) Naturally 20 what, exactly? Are you trying to correct your erectile disfunction or perform Japanese rope bondage??

And now, your moment of incomprehensible zen:

From yet another Cialis offer:

neighbor scarcely criticism wall fill surely how. far has time hurrying deal luck family strength hat wind, develop neither continued sale nine saw responsible! heard youth happy long, consequence disappear everyone notice than perform death, program experience sent noise we slow expect, promised argument frightened die besides running? entirely knew engaged peculiar walking commit prairie dog! incident death wrong placed need sad delight clothes! week wished prepare but thing dead sign room with hurried be married written board raised excite returned sake glass. accidentally receipt mothers summary ill general destroy. miss call national died think itself, were bed instead love innocent under anyway hall time free taking explain city beside fail carry, fall field greater stretch gotten sale woman, across danger deal fallen according conscience placed mentioned again everywhere deceive?

How exactly does one excite a sake glass, anyway? And why do all of these sound like machine translated proverbs or ad slogans, along the lines of "Pepsi will bring your ancestors back from the dead?"

The world may never know.



<shameless plug>Past Junk Mail can either be found on my web site (sporadically updated), or in my Memories (slightly more likely to be updated)</shameless plug>

and now, the real entry.

At the behest of jaicat, I managed to get out of the house and into the city, which turned out to be fun. Of course any outing with kitty is fun, despite the serious cases of linoleum legs I got by the end. Bah. You walk everyfrigginwhere in NY, I'm so not in shape for it anymore. Oh well, good workout :)

Left the house with Vicki's hubbypoo as we were going in the same direction subwaywise. Had a great conversation with him where I got to exercise my "look look I'm a big ass subway nerd!" muscles a bit. He's a federal transportation planner, so he's a great person to discuss the finer points of public transport in various cities with. Gracious. We managed to cover New York, Boston, and the DC area in the same conversation. But yeah, Reggie's cool - he's the one that got me hooked on Sim City back in the Win 3.1 days. Still love it.

Was a little later than I thought I'd be getting to jaicat's as I got off the train at 68th and Lex rather than 86th and Lex like I was supposed to. Not only was that rather dyslexic of me (no puns or alliteration intended) but... 68th was where I had to get off the subway to visit Mom at NY Presbyterian. Ouch... there's a latent and muscle memory gaffe if I ever saw one. Opted to go topside and tranfer to the uptown bus at 3rd avenue... but I was a little sad on the trip.

Got to Kitty's, briefly saw the tail of the kitty she's taking care of, said hi, then we went for ATMage and food. Mmm, been a WHILE since I've had Popeye's chicken. And they serve Cherry Coke, drool on myself now. There is nothing, NOTHING I tell you, like soda fountain Cherry Coke. Or as pugnatious as Popeye's corn on the cob. jaicat's kept sqirting her with hot corn juice every time she took a bite. Not just her either, I got hit a couple of times. "They told me not to play with my food," she commented, "But apparently they never told my food not to play with me."

After a brief stop back at her place and another quick stop at a local Hallmark to resurrect my erstwhile tradition of Shoebox holiday cards (thank the Goddess some prices never inflate) we hiked over to the Met, with the obligatory rude comments about the design and contruction of the Guggenheim on the way. We were thinking it would be funny to Photoshop a pic of King Kong making a pit stop on the building and reading the newspaper. Maybe the Village Voice. (Ron Jeremy's on the cover this week. O_o) But once we got into the Met we had fun roaming through all of the Asian and Indian galleries. I must go back to Astor Court - it must be pretty in the daytime, though I vastly enjoyed the effect the dark skylight had on the courtyard. We then quickly dashed across the museum, passing the fully furnished 17th century Parisian palace rooms, to the modern art and photography sections. One gallery featured the work of a South African artist named William Kentridge, and one of the "pieces" displayed was an animated short where he drew frames in charcoal, shot them, erased the bits that were moving, and drew them back in for the next frame, resulting in a surprisingly textured feel to the animation - you could totally see the progression of erasures around a moving bit.

By that point, kitty and I were tired and footsore, so we went back to her place, where I was introduced to hot apple cider topped with whipped cream and caramel. And I thought the cider itself was the bomb, but add whipped cream and caramel... ohhh, Kate Monster, you have NO idea. Must now get me some reddiwhip and caramel now. Was happily sucked in by a couple of eps of Law & Order, and then I headed home... and let myself into an empty, silent house, for probably the first time in my waking existence. Dad and the sibs were out. That was the one thing about Mom being, I think, agoraphobic - she never left this house, especially not at night, and when she wasn't here, Dad would be. Especially if I were around - Mom hated the very thought of me being in the house by myself during the day, and forget at night. Dad and Vicki came in about ten minutes ago, but I had two hours of utter peace and quiet while they were gone.

I loved it.

Think I will change my reservation to an earlier one tomorrow, so hopefully I can get out of NY on the 11am train. *crosses fingers* we'll see how I do with extricating myself from the pendulous, stripperlike bosom of my family. :)