Thursday, April 29, 2004 'tis the season
This is what I do with technology. Be patient: don't go clicking anything until it's done loading. This link makes noise (but what a noise!) and will probably not be worth it if you have dial-up.
Also: name that tune, get accolades. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/29/2004 08:05:00 PM
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Automatic shoes
I am not the office creep. I have identified the person who is. I identified that person in the following manner: the other day, one co-worker was reading a file number aloud to another co-worker. Office Creep poked his head up and said, "That's my favorite rifle caliber!"
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/29/2004 07:26:00 AM
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Tuesday, April 27, 2004 !
Lowell, I cannot hold you close enough. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/27/2004 06:52:00 PM
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stealth clam
tHIS IS AN EXTREMELY COVERT AND SECRET WORKBLOG! So secret that I forgot to take off the caps lock, but I'm leaving it, in order to seem edgier and more stealth.
I am on hold. I am always on hold. My favorite hold music is for this one billing office in the midwest, where they play "The Yellow Rose of Texas" on phone beeps. Later, they switch it up to "Home on the Range," which isn't as good, but is still satisfactory. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/27/2004 12:09:00 PM
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Saturday, April 24, 2004 Extra weather
In Richmond, Spring goes on for months. In March, the trees were green already, and the flowers were starting to come out. I left during forsythia season and before the azaleas and dogwoods. Now it's Spring in Lowell, the Paris of the North, and the movie's starting again.
This time last year it was Spring on the DelMarVa penninsula, but I was wrecking my car, and thinking my senior thesis was really, really good. Slightly later, I was hating that poor little orphan girl who won the big cash prize for being the best writer, and unwittingly buying the worst possible car available.
Now I have no car, the orphan hasn't even been on Oprah, and like I said, it's Spring again. I'm pretty satisfied with the situation.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/24/2004 11:24:00 AM
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Wednesday, April 21, 2004 I was born in a beauty salon
I have a tip, a beauty tip: if you've decided to purchase a device which has been designed by determined Europeans to vaporize the ugly out of your hair, remember that as smart as the Europeans undoubtedly were, they haven't invented AI, and even if they had, it would be inappropriate to include it in a fairly simple object whose only real job is to heat up. So don't let your flat iron touch your neck. Or do you like welts? posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/21/2004 09:52:00 PM
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Monday, April 19, 2004 You know
In the old days of this blog, my view was that posting links was cheating, because there were plenty of places where people could discover their own cool sites: also, if one tends to be the last to know about internet trends and personalities, one feels like a dork when one posts links only to find that everyone else has been going to those sites for years.
Also, my words had power and clarity, I thought. It turns out I was just swearing a lot and talking about the bitey little details of my life.
Anyway, I've got a link here for you to look at. Swear to God: I only noticed Bronson Pinchot's involvement after I'd decided it was my new favorite non-blog site.
I recommend the stories, but the pictures are kind of incredible, too. Why is all of this text a link? Because anything fucking goes on the internet! posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/19/2004 07:49:00 PM
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Sunday, April 18, 2004 Actually, I did say manarchy
This week my old college roommate hitched in from Detroit, and when your old college roommate is involved in a cross country race and scavenger hunt, the least you can do is go out for Indian food, then go back to where she is staying and, because it is the thing which is done around here, watch the baseball game.
If your old college roommate goes to a skill sharing conference the next day, you have to go to, to learn how to make your own soymilk.
Now I can make my own soymilk. I'm probably not going to: soymilk is available for purchase in many fine stores. They have advanced technology that makes it possible for one to enjoy a distinctly non-grainy soy beverage, which is not the case when you DIY. Still, now I know. I also learned the term for the pulp that's left over once you get the soymilk out. It is called okara.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/18/2004 02:30:00 AM
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Wednesday, April 14, 2004 Have you heard the good news? II
She is employed.
Kind of.
Now I can finally say things like, "I'll fax you the documents" and mean it.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/14/2004 07:14:00 PM
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Sunday, April 11, 2004 Have you heard the good news?
posted by Frenzy Lohan |
4/11/2004 11:47:00 PM
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He is risen
They're pretty now. We all are. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/11/2004 10:31:00 PM
Ever seen a cat before?
There's one.
Kitty loves Full House!
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/11/2004 12:31:00 AM
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Saturday, April 10, 2004 The red states
I was looking around Television Without Pity to see if anyone thinks that NBC is secretly paying The Apprentice's Omarosa to be terrible, or if anybody else has the theory that the whole thing is a prank, like The Joe Schmo Show, where everybody's a paid improvisational actor except for the dupe (in this case, poor boring Bill, who if this was true, wouldn't get why it was such a 'genious idea.). Under this theory, on the shocking final episode, Donald Trump himself would reveal that his life, including his marriages, business decisions, and hairstyle choice, has been an elaborate work.
Instead I found the Harvard Dialect Survey, where they've charted out the patches of the country where people say things like "frappe" or "might could." In general, there doesn't seem to be as much as a north/south divide as I was expecting there to be, even on stuff like "crawdad." (It's a couple years old, but new to me.)
I wish there was a way to answer all the questions myself, and then overlay them with the regions where they talk like I do, largely so that I could move to one of these places and never, ever have to hear anyone say, "Don't turn your awnt into an insect!" or "David Booie" and get away with it again. Unfortunately, I suspect that the people who talk like I do live somewhere unappealing, but I might could visit, at least.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/10/2004 10:15:00 AM
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I could take a foxy kind of stand
The other day Clamshandy was telling me about the crowd of former (and current!) enthusiastically bi-sexual drug hobbyists at the Bowie show the other night, so I told her about this one time at the 9:30 club in DC where my friends and I had gotten a really good spot to view Mr. Bowie himself, but then I started to feel faint. That kind of thing had happened enough for me to know that if I ignored the feeling, I would fall over, so I had to stumble to the back of the hall, where I sat back against a wall for a while and a 45ish woman with a pyramid-shaped home perm and an hand-embroidered "dbfan" sweatshirt (teal on white) told me about how great it was to see Bowie for the hundredth time.
Really, I was trying to build on the image of the sweatshirt, but Clamshandy got really excited. "It happened again?" she typed. ( I don't interact face to face. Ever.)
Then I remembered the specific real-life situation that made me realize that I would fall down. It was the time I fell down.
I was out with my cool big sister and her cool friend, and we'd driven all the way to another state, practically, to see Nine Inch Nails and Some Guy.
We got there, and a "band" called Prick* ( opened, and then Nine Inch Nails came out, and all the peppy blonde teen girls and burly dudes in beerhats sang along to "Hurt."
Then, there was a roar, because a man walked out on stage in a snakeskin coat, which he then dropped rakishly to the floor . And he sang a little song or two with Nine Inch Nails. When that band left, there was a stampede out of the area in front of the stage. Suddenly, there was room to fall over.
I did.
I'm not sure why. I remember a rushing noise, my vision going white, and some of the security guys running over to make sure I was OK. I finished the rest of the show sitting! on the floor in front of the stage, staring up at The Man in the Pants. I liked it when he covered that Nirvana song.
***
My theory as to why I'd completely forgotten my first Bowie-related total system failure is that I was blocking the supporting details I've outlined above.
I don't really have a theory on why I'm allergic to David Bowie in the first place, though. Clamshandy's theory is that my delicate system cannot tolerate the phrase "Funk to funky."
*Click and scroll down to see how this band later came back to haunt me. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/10/2004 12:49:00 AM
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Thursday, April 08, 2004 Behold!
Stormy, the jackyl-headed bat dog, lounging in the fetal position.
Leaving the scene of the crime.
It's a great big dog's face!
I don't need no stinkin' content! I have cute pictures of pets (shown here in squalor)! posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/08/2004 12:31:00 AM
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Monday, April 05, 2004 Update
The coat does make me look like a homeless lady.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/05/2004 05:18:00 PM
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Also:
I wish I could sleep.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/05/2004 03:53:00 AM
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in the mill pond, standing on her head
Here I am in Lowell, prepared to seek my fortune. I imagine I'll find a job catching bobbins and later the linty-lung disease in the bustling textile mills.
Or: Here I am in Lowell, prepared to eat enough delicious Brazilian pastries to 86 whatever tiny chance I had of fitting into anything in the Brazilian fashion shop, including but not limited to items such as wristwatches and hats.
Alternately: Here I am in Lowell, prepared to tell people from outside the area that I'm in "Boston," and have them swallow it! Hook, line and sinker. That's how they'll swallow it. Like fish.
In other news:
Before I left Richmond, I bought a coat. At the time I thought it was cute, in that mothbally, retro way. Now I'm not 100% sure it doesn't make me look like a homeless lady. The distinction never used to bother me too much in the past, so I rarely worked on telling the difference. Maybe if I stay out of garbage cans and refrain from panhandling, people will pick it up from context clues. Or, maybe they'll give me money and leftovers. I'll hand them my resume in return, like the people who hand out Xeroxes of their homemade poetry in exchange for quarters.
In order to practice proofreading and editing, over the next few days or weeks, I'm going to go back and edit the glaring grammatical and spelling errors out of the entries in this site's archives. In general, I'm going to leave the content alone, even if it's stupid. I've already gone back and added disclaimers to some of the ex-mate's more whimsical computer pranks, so that a casual visitor won't think I'm, oh, horribly racist, for example. Now I'm more concerned with letting the internet know that I know the difference between it's and its, as well as the proper spelling of common English-language words.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/05/2004 03:22:00 AM
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Friday, April 02, 2004 Countdown!
On Saturday morning, I finally leave to cut a swathe of destruction across New England. As usual, I am tempted to just discard all my belongings rather than pack. It's way Gandhi.
I'm still amazed that, in the course of moving over and over again over the past few years, and losing/ill-advisedly throwing out/selling so many of my favorite things, I still have so much crap that must be fitted into containers and transported.
In the future, I will befriend someone with a jet.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 4/02/2004 03:25:00 AM
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