Sunday, September 4, 2011

Like Steven Spielberg's version of the 70s, which never actually happened.

Today is 12 weeks without a cigarette or any nicotine of any kind. It gets easier all the time, but a weird thing I am noticing is how gold-tinged and happy my memories of smoking are. Like, me and a 6-foot tall cigarette holding hands and skipping barefoot through a field of daisies, heads thrown back in laughter, while cartoon birds flit about, and a Randy Newman song plays in the background. And maybe ponies or something. I know it wasn't actually like that, but that's how I remember it. I have no idea why that is.

Actually, I had a pony as a kid. That dude was a total bastard. Ponies kind of suck. Which I know is disillusioning for the non-pony people among us. So maybe there weren't ponies, is what I mean. There might have been unicorns though.

In other news, I actually have no news. I'm just trying to get back in the habit of writing more again, and I haven't actually left the house since Friday. Except maybe to go for a couple of runs. And nothing of note really happens on my runs. Well, there was the one time a truck with like 18 people crammed into the cab followed me for about half a mile and there was another time that there were black adolescents in my vicinity and a middle aged white woman felt compelled to pull over, inform me of their presence, and caution me to be careful, even though I had run by these kids like 5 minutes previously and they were perfectly polite. I think those two things only count as stories if I end up on CNN or find $100 or something.

I...went through our file cabinets today and threw out/shredded/filed a bunch of crap? Also, continued the never ending civil war against the spiders. I knock down webs, they build more webs. I never see an actual fucking spider. But I know that every day I go to open the microwave and put my hand through a fucking web. I don't know why this is happening to me, but it seems like a good reason to blog more frequently. If you don't hear from me you can assume the spiders won the war and I'm all wrapped up in one of those weird white balls they make.

I learned today that garter snakes can spray a musk at predators. I learned this because one of the dogs found a garter snake in the yard and the snake did not appreciate being found. The dog was completely unbothered by the spraying, but we already knew she was mentally challenged, so that's not really surprising. you know, or some other cliche that makes this post somewhat relevant to anything, anywhere.


  1. i had a pony as a kid too. i hate ponies. i thought i was the only one.

    congrats on the no smoking. trust me, randy newman songs would get old after awhile.

    good like with the spider war.

  2. Ew, you have spiders that are actively living and webbing in your kitchen? And on your fucking microwave?? Have you ever seen the movie IT? You know the scene at the end where they find all the missing people wrapped up in giant spider cocoons? I imagine that's what your future will be like.

  3. I forgot what I was going to say in lieu of the fact that the previous comment about being wrapped up in a giant spider cocoon thoroughly freaked me out and is going to give me nightmares. Also: kind of like LoTR with the giant spider and the stabbing and that cocoon. Except maybe you're less nerdy than me and don't know what I'm talking about. In which case: AVOID THIS SCENE IT'S CREEPIER THAN FUCK.

    PS, way to go on the no-smoking! I'm proud of you.