7.10.09: You be the captain, I'll be no one

Do you know what's really bizarre? Here I am, in my usual self-obsessed but endearing manner, reading old, old entries on this thing and I came across this:

Love it or leave it! 7.06.04

Another day of successfully dropping a whole bunch of floaters into the old POLICY POOPER where I work. Gee. I never thought it could be this good.

I was a good little Amerigun this weekend and was way too boozy.

But,today, yes today! Today, I have also listened to the ceaseless drone of my next-door work neighbor�s narration of the useless minutiae of her life. I have heard about how she has been researching cisterns, about her dog�s digestive tract, about the multi-various zoning codes in her new neighborhood, about the harrowing process of selecting a riding mower (!), and about how when she moved, her husband decided that they would put color-coded packing tape on their boxes to indicate certain rooms! Why for the love of fuck couldn�t he just whip out a sharpie and write �boudoir� or �crapper� on the side of a box like any other god-fearing-red-blooded-non-nimrod would?!? Yah!

This is not an unusual way to pass my day here--hearing all of these dull gems of suburban banality related over and over and over and over again. Try as I might to drown it out with loud music and hard liquor, her voice tends to linger in my headspace waaaay too long after I leave this place. Sometimes it turns into this insane babbling of a whole gaggle of little goblin voices--like I�m about to fade-out from a scene in �Rosemary�s Baby�--that haunts my homeward commute as if there were an astral entourage of extremely boring demon-ladies trailing me and mocking my brief escape. Perhaps they are actually the souls of dear, departed les mamas des soccaire that no doubt glut the spiritual arteries of this area. Anyway, this last part depends on how much caffeine I�ve plied my senses with that day.

That's from five years ago, i.e. a lifetime. And on the same day, I was writing and thinking about soccer moms. Although you may note a slight change in tone...I miss my bitter edge.

This is nuts.