1:06 p.m. - 01.13.2003
She blinded me with Science!
I have a not so pretty picture to paint you. It's a picture of amishboy as he lingers in continuing exile.
Picture if you will a sea of apartment complexes strecthing as far as the eye can see over the landscape like a modern and sterile utopia. A delicious world of sameness.
All the buildings in the complex adhere to a single architectural ideology: suffocation. It's a slave farm really for corporate america. All the slave's quarters (read: apartments) where the workers live are built inside these big, luxurious looking buildings. But really they are 8 cramped units stacked together and unified with a single roof, creating a sense of "community".
Then there's the overseer's home (read: main/community building. This houses the overseer's offices. Connected to the main building are the amenities: swimming pools, tennis courts, etc. All under the watchful eye of the main house. Why, even the tiny little building dedicted to the mailboxes looks JUST like the slave and master's houses. Just smaller. with mail inside.
But I'm getting off track, in an ugly way.
The cattle-like conditions I speak of are just a coincidence. They really are happy, sunshiney, manicured pockets of bliss. It's really "Suburbia for Beginners". Especially here in a college town. Community events! Meetings! And refreshing rules and regulations, like "No bikes on the porch!".
And then you graduate, and move to a starter family home with your sorority sidekick. And you work diligently for a few years on gaining weight and filling the small side yard with Little Tykes jungle gyms. And then it's graduation time again! Now you're ready to move further out the suburban line - like Elliot's neighborhood in E.T. Finally, if you've played your cards right, you can retire in Country Club heaven, where the kids will reluctantly come visit you every other year MAYBE, just so they can tell you how much you f'ed up their lives.
*Ahem* I'm getting off the subject (again). Aren't I a pessimistic and ornery cuss today. Please forgive me...
Inside one of these apartments (114H to be exact) sits our slovenly hero, amishboy. I spend my days in a ratty pair of jeans with a wife-beater shirt on. It was once white, but is now a glorious and sweaty off-white with some mustard stains. I mostly remain decadently sprawled on the leather couch. I think things are now nesting in my hair.
Surrounding me are the empty leftovers of some....er...research(!) I've been conducting on the structural integrity and freshness of various forms of food packaging. A science I tell you. That Little Debbie is a genius.
Actually, I've been researching a good number of things:
- Regular junk-food vs. Organic junk-food (stay away from anything flavored Spinach and Kale.)
- Mrs. Field's vs. Famous Amos
- TLC vs. the Discovery Channel
- The educational rewards of yellow journalism (read: Fox News)
- The strength of my left foot vs. my right in using the remote control
- The viscosity of Velveeta vs. Cheez Whiz, and if there is a correlation to taste and olfactory senses.
- Teletubbies vs. Today's Special
- The heating properties of one's own gas
- The facial hair growth-rate of a sedentary male, aged 20-30.
- and the time honored Coke vs. Pepsi
These are to name but a few of the serious contributions that I am currently contributing to the lexicon of science. When I am dead and gone, scientists will celebrate me in song and dance.
Actually - in case you haven't noticed...I'm lying. *sound of collective gasp* In fact, nothing is nesting in my hair, as I have recently had my glorious locks shorn clean.
Looking back now - this entry has been void of any direction and meaning. I just wanted to say that my exile continues in earnest, but as soon as I stop typing here - I will set out to resolve it.
For those into downloading music, check out these yummy treats:
- Sixpence None the Richer's cover of "Don't Dream it's Over" by Crowded House. (hard to find, but worth it.)
- Mercury Rev doing "Nite and Fog"
- Perez Prado and his Orchestra with "Patricia"
- and maybe finish with a classic, Doobie Brothers "What a fool believes"
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