palmerpink

It's already Thursday? Where did the week go?? Oh well; I made a bit of progress on editing that essay I've been talking about over on pink interrobanger . (And I'll probably continue putting more about that there to spare those of you uninterested in my writing projects--or my endless ramblings thereupon XD) Still, though. The week disappeared rather rudely, it seemed. I guess I did work Monday and Tuesday, and yesterday turned into a 'pajama day', and today's hardly started.... But the week feels so gone. And I feel so gross about it. Real lazy and fat feeling. Still kinda tired (might be cuz I was up until 4am last night >.<). Hence the title of this post. Look it up . (second definition.) A lot of the week has been spent looking forward to tomorrow--pay day. I do hope I have something leftover after I pay all my bills. ... I should really get back to applying for that loan consolidation, shouldn't I? *sigh* In other news, I'm proud

Well, I'm sure all of you have been dreadfully worried by those last few posts. But fear not, not all is Sturm und Drang in Palmerland. Afterall, after a sour morning, Saturday afternoon and evening turned out quite fantastic. Gorgeous boys and hearty laughs were had by all. Meanwhile I've been doing a modest share of writing, as I shared on the litting blog yesterday …. It's been fairly a marvelous feeling, writing; I only wish I were more consistent..... Today I'm enjoying a glamorously serene evening on the porch with my mom and grandmother. It's simply lovely; cool and gentle, with some birdsong and beloveds. I really hope my store doesn't suddenly decide they need me tonight. At least, not before I've had a moment or two to enjoy this.

I haven't even re-read my last post . It was an attempt to resolve or explain the resolutions I'd arrived at about the post before it . Of course I decide to write such an important, meaningful post when I'm literally falling asleep at the keyboard. Like, nodding off, sitting up, hands hitting random keys. Good timing, Chris. Well, I wanna (briefly) restate the good progress I was trying to convey in case, you know, that post turned incoherent or misleading in any way. From both posts, you can probably infer I was having some boy troubles. One crush in particular had caused me some serious heartache and frustration. It really sucked. What really sucked about it was how much it resembles all my other troubles with boys, just made more poignant by how long and how badly I've liked & respected this guy. I get to fantasizing, and not just sexually mind you, and I get so attached to those fantasies and hopes. I start reading into any sign they might be true--that w

I really don't want to be writing this. No, no, no; not because I'm in some sour, pissy mood, like I had myself yesterday morning. No, actually yesterday turned out rather marvelous after that was posted, though later on. No, the reason I'm resistant to any effort is I (think I) am sick. Head's all heavy, coughing, voice all fucked up (I sound like Philip DeFranco), and generally lethargic and ick feeling. I don't want to write this because I don't want to write, which is largely because I don't feel like doing  anything right now. As I said, though, yesterday turned out pretty fabulous--bad weather and all. I guess I did a bit of praying. I wanted to stop feeling so frustrated and shitty about that guy and his possible indifference. I left out some bits, I think, about how I've gotten so good about being casual around him--just being friends, not being some desperate creeper. But, although sparing me a lot of frustration and let down, it somehow

Or so they tell me. As I've written twice already how rough April is/how deeply I loathe it. Among the several or so reasons, one certainly centers on loneliness and longing. Boys, and their (apparent) disinterest/indifference. I've harbored a long-standing bitterness about this, too; resenting couples and their happiness especially as they frolic in the re-awakened flowers and warmth and hormones of Spring. It's been very frustrating. I hate feeling lonely almost as much as I hate sounding pathetic. In April, though, the latter's all but entirely overwhelmed by the former, and longing feeds bitterness, and resentment breeds surliness. Right now, I'm not particularly chasing anyone. Well, that's not entirely true. Among the guys I wish would notice me is one I've wanted ardently for a very long time. At this point, it's not some desperate, crazed yearning, but a friendship I very much wish were "more". It's turned figurative--h

So I just downloaded the official blogger app for mah breeders Droid X. So far so good, eh? You have no idea how much I love this phone. It kinda completes me in ways i'd never before imagined. I have about 10gb of music and whenever I listen to something last.fm scrobbles it all auto-like. My biggest issue so far has been getting used to typing.  It's coming along but still a bit alien. I am getting used to the size of it at least. As I tweeted lastnight, this thing isn't a phone, it's a goddamn BEAST. And it makes me solo horny. In fact I'll add: this thing isn't a phone, it's a handheld 7 layer multiverse of awesome that happens to make calls & text message. It is a piece of glory, and it completes me rapturously. It's I could have ever hoped for in a mobile anything, and then some. Also Cali says "hi".

So guess what watched the other day? No, not bad movies. Although, yes, I've watched 2 new ones this week, at least one of which you can expect a review of sooner than later. Hopefully. No, the other night I ended up watching  Wallace and Gromit in The Wrong Trousers . I'd almost forgotten about those guys. It was so good--the reunion and the film itself. I was surprised how actually funny it was; I'm not sure but I may even have found it funnier today than when I was a kid. Those facial expressions--Gromit's especially--just killed me. Not to mention the feel-goody excitement--like when Feathers McGraw is using Wallace to steal that diamond (how the fuck do they get us to root for the bad guy!? :D) or the chase scene at the end (I want that box of spare tracks). I only watched the first three films when I was a kid. I kinda grew up on them. Watching this one brought back the memories and feelings of being a kid, the good ones too. But I still haven't seen

What a waste of a good title. Oh well, can you tell I'm nervous? I have an interview at Starbucks this afternoon (in under four hours from now, to be exact). Funnily enough, I'm somewhat less worried about the interview itself as what might happen when I get the job.

So I seriously need to get this bike tended to by a semi-professional. It makes so many weird noises. And on my way to work this morning the seat snapped off. Oh yeah. So happy. It's otherwise a pretty alright bike, really. It was some kinda top of the line something or other back a few years ago when my dad got it. Recently he upgraded and passed it along to me and it's--mostly--served me well. Somehow between its age and all the bumps and accidents my dad and I have put it through, though, it's given me some cause for concern. Those rattling handlebars. The sticky breaks. The screwy gear changer things. But I can honestly say I don't think I ever once suspected the *seat* to betray me like this. Sheared straight through the bolt. Crazy, man. Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Friday, I wrote about how bad April is for me . The last couple of days have, in their moments, continued to remind me why. Partly, it's a mean game I play with/on myself. Slight obsessiveness mixed with loneliness and indecisiveness. I've had an especially hard time shaking it this week. Like, there's this one guy I've known for a long, long time. And really liked him pretty much all along, too. Not just because he's oh-so-fuckable but out of legit respect for his mind and personality and so on. I think he's just awesome, but I don't know if he even knows I'm "here". You know, like that . I mean, I imagine he must know I like him. ...right? But it's like he looks right through me half the time--or is he just playing really really coy with me? Other times...he seems almost annoyed with me. But maybe he's busy. And what about those times he seems to set aside other goings on to talk to me? Can you tell I think about this way to

My bikeride to work yesterday was unusually...colorful, to say the least. I passed two weird-ass characters en route, and had to share the experience. First was a junkie/schizo version of Whoopi Goldberg trundling up the sidewalk with some mass of plastic bags, possibly containing more plastic bags or some other stuff. We will likely never know. Anyway, as she steps aside so I can pass, we make polite eye contact, and she mumbles--with a slightly unhinged but still informative air of propheticism--"Same old shit...justa diffrunt day...." She said this directly, as though it were some vital life lesson, deadly serious. Very  not what I'd expect form good ole Whoopi. A bit later, I'm passing mattress Warehouse and happen upon a stereotypical witch-type. Craggy, somewhat gnarled face; light, faded, fluffy hair; tiny and scrawny; apparently using one of those wire push-carts as a walker, just hobbling along minding her own business. But--dude--she looked an

OhGawdOhGawdOhGawd. So'cited, man. Have I mentioned before what a raving, uncontrollably nutterific spazzball I am for Doctor Who ? Like, you noticed the guy facepalming in my header's the 11th Doctor, Matt Smith, right? Oh yeah, I'm nuts for it. Here's the trailer for the new season: You can bet I'm excited. Actually, I was already excited, so now that I've seen this I'm just plain super -excited. In fact, I've (tried to add/added) a countdown to the big night along the right side of my blog. You can bet I'll be checking that every goddamn morning, bitches. You better be starting to get excited about this. Also! I've heard Moffat (the head writer/my personal deity) is going to be suuuuch a mega dick to me: they're going to start airing the first 6 episodes this Spring, end of a mega-epic cliffhanger, and then resume in the Fall. Apparently he's even written multiple endings so that if anything leaks no one can be sure which

I wrote on my litty blog earlier that I've a real need to get some writin' done today/this week. Well, no luck so far and not likely to have much better before work, but still. I'm off at 8 tonight so it shouldn't be too hard to fiddle about with something. It's good though, whether I actually get to write or not,--this itching to write. I think it ups my chances of actually doing some, frankly. So no matter what I think this'll still turn out well, man. Maybe even some kind of win. Oh, I mentioned in that post a new project I'm seriously considering: Parker and I may start collaborating on a comic book together. Basically about us because we're raging cartoon characters/cool kids, and all the world should be able to experience it. Yeah, something like that. But I think it could be fun. We've already got about 3 ideas ready to be developed. I'll let y'all know what comes of it.

I'll have to remember that title; it's probably wasted on this. Or maybe--just maybe!--this'll actually be the last time I mess up like this! Yeah! So Friday I was supposed to meet with my sponsor. Somehow I also got in my head I was finally going to get my Learners Permit renewed. (Yeah, about that. Long story. Try to suspend judgment until I can get through this. Speaking of which, why is this so difficult? It can't just be the whole honesty thing. I've gotten plenty good at self-effacing honesty--humility, too, evidently. Unfocused? Maybe. Probably. Oh well.) Maybe it was that my sponsor wanted to slide our normal meeting time up a little; maybe it was that old familiar irrational nervousness about the MVA; maybe it was trying to plot out things in the evening time-line. Whatever it was, it all went down like dominoes. I "dodged" the MVA even after securing ride possibilities from my dad to simplify things. I didn't get in touch with my spons

I've been veritably obsessed with this song the last couple of days. Maybe it's been a week. It's been creeping up on me hardcore. Like, I can't even remember when I first heard this band or listened to this song, nor who (if anyone) recommended them or how I heard about them. It's a mystery.  But, however I discovered them, I'm so fucking glad I did. Some naysayers out there (ahem, Parker ) complained "it's just like Interpol" because these naysayers also like to complain that "all you listen to is Interpol!". Jerks. They do have one point--I do seem heavily drawn to thrumming rhythms. And other stuff. I'd point out these fools are still mistaken. I might, if I were hastier, liken them more to a cross of, say, Brand New or Fall Out Boy (?) with a heavy helping of Snow Patrol (and not just because of the accent). I'd have to think harder on this before fully consigning myself to any comparisons, of course. But even some

Earlier, I transcribed a draft of a poem on my litty blog extolling the reasons and ways I hate April. Probably, or eventually at least, less pretentiously/tritely than that sounded. Regardless, here's a bit of a conversation/rant I had that explains my loathing of April as "The Cruellest Month": (04/01/2011 08:01:51 AM) unwitting friend: why april? (04/01/2011 08:09:10 AM) Palmer: as i just quoted on mah twitter... (04/01/2011 08:09:53 AM) Palmer: "April is the cruellest month, breeding/Lilacs out of the deadland, Mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain." (04/01/2011 08:10:34 AM) Palmer: it's when people's hormones get reawakened, all those lovely flowers and cherry blossoms start coming back, and everyone wants to go out into the world and display their coupling might (04/01/2011 08:11:17 AM) Palmer: and on other days it's rainy and dreary, giving me time to remember & sulk about how, unlike everyone else

I need to write here more. It's not even like I don't like to or anything or don't have anything to say. I've been gearing up for a review of  Daria , some anime, and a post or two about the comics I've been reading. Hell, I might even throw in a  Bad Movie Monday if I'm feeling really frisky. So why haven't I? I'm not sure. And what to do about it? Also not sure. Since meeting with my cousin last week, I've been putting more of my writerly efforts towards a piece she asked me to write (it's going pretty well; I should really post about it on the other blog...). But even before then, I feel I was starting to lapse. The broken hand didn't do the habit any favors, that's for sure. But it's miles better now--like, it doesn't hurt to write this. I think it's really as un-blame-able as unpicking the habit, a combination of several things' eroding the urge and inspiration. How frustrating. Grr. How am I going to attr