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There was part of my commute this morning that was about 10 feet under water from rising level in the bayou just outside of downtown. I ended up having to stay off-road for the last third or so of the trip. By the time I got to work, I looked like I just crawled out of a mud wrestling pit. It rocked. I love how everyone avoided me in the halls and elevators for fear of getting some dirt on them... it really made my morning. Of course, I couldn't stay all grubby and continue my amusement, so I hit the showers and changed. I feel the week compression already. I have a prep goal of Friday for a hard deadline on Monday and I don't have enough hours between now and then to do it all... especially when additionally carrying the load of the engineer that flew to Colorado in my place. I need to clone myself. If I had three of me, I'd be set.

Is it time for work again already? What a cruel world this is... really.

I just finished watching Le Pacte des loups. I've seen quite a few French movies in my day, but this was the closest to an "American production" I've seen yet. The story was well planned and the cinematography was excellent. The fight scenes were well choreographed and there were even a few effects. Yes. That's what I said. Special effects in a French film. Amazing, n'est pas? I should sleep, but I have a lot on my mind. I think this will be movie night.

I left the office early to take care of some personal business and have been working from home the rest of the afternoon. Even at home I can't escape Monday suckage. Fuck. If you're bored off your ass, chew on this. I need to finish this work so I can go out and play in the rain.

Pita, hummus, my laptop, and me... the recipe for another day working through lunch on my ever growing project list. I wish the market wasn't so bad right now! I could hire some assistance. I'm going crazy. The only people keeping me from going postal right now are Stan Getz, Duke Ellington, and Chick Corea. It amazed me how I get any work done at all. I continue to plug away at this crap and part of my mind is reviewing all the ways I could sharpen my Diet Coke can into a weapon. Heh. Anyhoo, I spent my ENTIRE morning in meetings. I hate meetings. I don't possess the vocabulary to express my hatred of meetings. Fuck Monday... and fuck meetings.

fuck monday.

I think I just saw a tumbleweed roll past my office door and down the hall. Joe is in Colorado (for me... thanks again). My boss is gone. His boss is gone. The other engineers and consultants are missing. Am I the only one here? Is today a holiday and my head is just comfortably resting up my ass and didn't know it? I have only seen two people this morning... Dwayne, my crazy little Indian buddy, and my VP. It can't be a holiday. If it were a holiday, Dwayne would be home thumbing through the Kama Sutra like he always does outside the walls of this building. I think I'll make another pass around the office and if I see vultures circling above and hear that high noon gunfight sound over the office intercom (you know the one dammit), I'm outta here. I'll walkabout to Chez Satan for some go juice. Yeah... that's the ticket.

pee ess... I'm not going to go on anymore dates where the women serenade me: "LIAR" - Henry Rollins
you think you're gonna to live your life alone
in darkness
and seclusion
yeah I know
you've been out there
tried to mix with those animals
and it just left you full of humiliated confusion
so you stagger back home
and wait for nothing
but the solitary refinement of your room spits you back out onto the street
and now you're desperate
and in need of human contact
and then
you meet me
and you whole world changes
because everything I say is everything you've ever wanted to hear
so you drop all your defenses and you drop all your fears
and you trust me completely
I'm perfect
in every way
cause I make you feel so strong and so powerful inside
you feel so lucky
but your ego obscures reality
and you never bother to wonder why
things are going so well
you wanna know why?
cause I'm a liar
yeah I'm a liar
I'll tear your mind out
I'll burn your soul
I'll turn you into me
I'll turn you into me
cause I'm a liar, a liar
a liar, a liar

I'll hide behind a smile
and understanding eyes
and I'll tell you things that you already know
so you can say
I really identify with you, so much
and all the time that you're needing me
is just the time that I'm bleeding you
don't you get it yet?
I'll come to you like an affliction
and I'll leave you like an addiction
you'll never forget me
you wanna know why?
cause I'm a liar
yeah I'm a liar
I'll rip your mind out
I'll burn your soul
I'll turn you into me
I'll turn you into me
cause I'm a liar, a liar
liar, liar, liar, liar

I don't know why I feel the need to lie
and cause you so much pain
maybe it's something inside
maybe it's something I can't explain
cause all I do
is mess you up and lie to you
I'm a liar
oh, I am a liar

if you'll give me one more chance
I swear that I will never lie to you again
because now I see the destructive power of a lie
they're stronger than truth
I can't believe I ever hurt you
I swear
I will never to you lie again, please
just give me one more chance
I will never lie to you again
I swear
that I will never tell a lie
I will never tell a lie
no, no
ha ha ha ha ha hah haa haa haa haaa
sucker
sucker!
oh, sucker
I am a liar
yeah, I am a liar
yeah I like it
I feel good
ohh I am a liar
yeah
I lie
I lie
I lie
oh, I lie
oh I lie
I lie
yeah
ohhh I'm a liar
I lie
yeah
I like it
I feel good
I'll lie again
and again
I'll lie again and again
and I'll keep lying
I promise

Happy birthday Jessica... you are always with me.

I race to get ready this morning so I don't miss the 70. Public transportation is an efficient way to travel around town if you:

A) know the routes... you have to know the routes
2) aren't afraid of freaky ass people talking, rapping, or singing to you and are cool with imaginary friends, strangers staring at you, and various unpleasant odor
C) you have a lot of time on your hands (this importance of this item can be slightly minimized by being really good at item A)

The bus sign at the outbound stop closest to my house was knocked off the pole by the serious, heavy construction going on in the adjacent lot. I can't wait for it to be complete. The ambient background noise level in my neighborhood has gone up enough to bother my pets quite a bit. Noted over time, you can see a huge difference in their behavior when the construction is in progress during the day. It sounds corny, I'm sure, but I noticed this same thing a couple of years ago during another construction period near my apartment. I managed to catch the 70 on time, so my commute in is filled with eavesdropping and people watching of the worst possible kind. The predictable kind. The 70 is the West U/Memorial route. Most of the chatter on the bus is someone trying to sound more wealthy, important, or powerful than the other. They complain a lot too. It makes me wonder what happens to people when they come into money. Is that behavior in social circles in contagious? The 'ole lay with dogs and you'll get fleas adage? Je ne sais pas. Another thing I'm curious about is the point at which it starts to happen. I mean, I came from poverty as a young adult and consider myself to make a good living now... I am occasionally found at those exclusive, black tie, posh outings and the only thing I feel is disgust and the strong desire for blue jeans and a cold beer. Instead of being converted, I'm revolted. Why? Did I get a vaccination I didn't know about? I'm saying that all the people hopping on the bus from West U are like that, but more often than not, they fit the stereotype. Now the number 2 is where it's at. If you want Houston diversity and a small chance of getting pissed on or stabbed, then you need to hit the number 2 downtown route. Hell yeah. I've blogged about shit I've seen on the 2 before on a few separate occasions. If I were to imagine a METRO that I could step onto going to work and see a woman giving birth, a guy shooting heroin in the back, someone making out, people sleeping, a couple of suits quietly reading the Wall Street Journal, kids playing, an old lady knitting, a young lady reading, random homeless genitalia, an a partridge in a pear tree... it would be number 2 Houston Downtown. That segues into what I love about Houston. It's a mixing pot... much like the United States over all is a mixing pot. Like everything, there is good and bad. Unfortunately, the US will never have a distinct culture to call its own because we are nothing but a mix of cultures gathered from immigrants and tourists from our founding fathers to present. The closest thing the native culture here is that of the American Indian... all but lost in modern society. Short of searching on Google, most people don't even know where to look if they want to know more about it. But Houston is truly diverse... international even... it's amazing. When I was a child in Texas, I hated Houston. Every time I passed through the city it was all inconvenience and no reward. I lived away from Texas for many years during the 1990's and the entire time I swore to myself that when I returned to Texas (it was never an if), I would live in Austin... maybe San Antonio... anywhere but Houston. Where did I end up? Houston. I fought it at first. I convinced myself again daily that this wasn't the place for me. But RealLife™. tends to take precedence when food and shelter are threatened, so I focused my efforts on more productive things. Now, and I can't tell you the point at which it happened, I love this town. I slept terribly last night. It's like I didn't sleep at all. I'm just a wordy little bitch this morning.

I wonder how the weekend passes so quickly... even when filled with nothing of consequence. It's just a blink compared to the span of weekday filler. I'm dreading the morning commute and the time between my eyes opening and my first sip of coffee. But, it's like Sir Winston Churchill said... "If your going through hell, keep going." I think I'll slip under some comfy covers and get some rest. C minor becomes G like a sweet ending to my day and with any luck, I will dream of better things.

My memory is an interesting animal. I remember the most insignificant details or trivia and seem to be able to call them up without much difficulty, yet the big things collect dust more easily. Is it because they are bigger? More surface for mind dust to settle on? I performed a poem at the reading tonight and chunkified a line because I forgot the meter. No one noticed because they hadn't heard the poem before, but still... I never used to do stuff like that. I haven't decided yet if it's the age or the drugs. Heh. Yeah. Right. Anyhoo... I'm gonna give my couch some ass smoochies and channel surf. "Hysteria" - T.S. Eliot
As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill. I was drawn in by short gasps, inhaled at each momentary recovery, lost finally in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by the ripple of unseen muscles. An elderly waiter with trembling hands was hurriedly spreading a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty green iron table, saying: "If the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden, if the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden..." I decided that if the shaking of her breasts could be stopped, some of the fragments of the afternoon might be collected, and I concentrated my attention with careful subtlety to this end.

I wore red today. I hardly ever wear red... maybe a few times a year. It doesn't look bad. I wonder why I never wear anything red. Simple thoughts on a boring day. I am going to a poetry reading this afternoon. I'm unsure of the format because it's not the one I usually attend here, but I'm interested. I shouldn't have gone out last night. I was sick Thursday/Friday and slept a lot... I actually thought I was better. I was feeling better anyway. I think I have a fever. I spent part of my morning on a 5 way conference call with New York as I was working on some network problems up there (via VPN). I hate when I get an emergency work call on a Sunday... or anytime on the weekend for that matter. That register position or condom sorter job is looking better by the second. I think I'm turning Japanese. I think I'm turning Japanese. I really think so.

I love the smell of fresh ground coffee. I love grinding it. I like the way the rat-tat-tat of the beans changes tone as you roll the grinder at different angles. Tiny coffee music. I went to Starbucks this morning and bought a half pound of Kenya and I saw Portia’s twin. You know how people say that everyone has a twin somewhere on Earth? Portia has one; she lives in Houston. I met Portia when she was staying with Melly in San Antonio, so I only saw her a few hours before she left... enough time for me to concretely say this customer at the Starbucks could be an identical twin. The same height, build, hair color and style, and physical mannerisms. It was the kookiest. I was in Whole Foods this morning and I realized that I love the way it (and Central Market) are always filled with good smells... lingering and pleasant. It makes shopping so much more fun. I was there to buy some peanut butter doggie biscuits for Éclair and was surprised to see that they now sell vegan dog food and treats. Something for everyone I suppose. I like to bake stuff. I like the way it changes the way the entire house smells. Now, my house has this perpetual scent of various candle "flavors" because I have candles everywhere. I had a meltdown the other night in my bedroom. I had a large three-wick candle on a wall shelf opposite my bed and a small groove in the wax melted out and 498 liters of molten candle wax poured across the shelf, through the crevice between it and the wall, and down the wall... splattering and cooling all the way. It made the coolest rapid stalactites in the process. I left them for a picture, but my crap-o digital camera is not the right man for the job. Today is a day of laziness and procrastination. There is a faint, shaded outline of what used to be my list of things to do on the paper of my afternoon, but it’s obscured by coffee stains and eraser dust and I just can’t make it out.

I need donuts and coffee. OMG. If there is anything that I need right now, it is that... c o f f e e

I'm such a sucker. I had a great evening for the most part. I ate with Irfan and 6 other pseudo-friends at the Red Onion Grill. We continued on to Stag's Head for Harry and Eric's gig. There were many large groups of people that passed through over the course of the evening... several costume party folks and even a hen party. It was quite entertaining. I drank a lot (as previously stated), but managed to stay coherent enough to know I was being strung along by the not-really-a-date date. I am home safe and sound. I'm getting ready for sleepytime, but I am still disturbed by the deception of it all. Why do the women in my life continually lie to me? Why do the women I know take advantage of the fairer facets of my personality while they continually take me for granted? Why am I never appreciated? This is why I don't date. This is why I fight every day to not become the bitter motherfucker I was 5 years ago. I am so disappointed with the human race... especially the women I've known in my life. What the fuck is wrong with you people?