Currently Reading: Not nearly enough. I need to get back on the stick with this whole book thing.

Currently Listening To: Pink Floyd, The Wall.

Currently Wondering: How the fuck anyone could be so self-absorbed as to write any journaler and complain "Stop writing about (whatever topic the self-absorbed idiot doesn't like)."

Oh, gosh, yes. Right away, sir or ma'am. Sorry my life is boring you so much.

No, this hasn't happened to me. Yet. But it seems to happen to others a lot, most recently James Lileks, who writes better -- and more -- journal entries while suffering from pneumonia and tripping on various cough-suppressing meds than I do healthy and sober.

What the hell is wrong with people anyway?




Christmas Fun Girl Mode.

This is George, the plant I wrote about in the last entry. I liked George so much that last weekend I decided it would be a good idea to go to Target and pick up some miniature ornaments for his tiny branches. Why? Because I'm a fundamentally stupid person. Target during Christmas season? What the hell was I thinking? Why didn't any of you stop me?

Oh well. I actually survived the experience with only minor bruising and bleeding, and I picked up some cute decorations. I'm especially pleased with the tiny Powerpuff Girls hanging near the top, although I had to buy three big Powerpuff ornaments in order to get the three teeny ones. Truth be told, I considered going without a little Blossom -- she's my least favorite. But then the tree would have just seemed annoyingly incomplete, I think.

And while I decorated George on Monday I heard my Inner Parents squabbling. Mom was on my right shoulder saying "You don't really need that many things hanging off the tree, do you?" and Dad was on my left saying "Hey! There's a bare spot over there that looks like hell -- hang something there!" Decorating our family Christmas trees used to be an annual war. My mother is a fan of the understated, subtle decoration look -- one color of lights, preferably white, a restrained hand with the ornaments, and no tinsel. My dad was a big fan of the "Santa Barfed Here" look. Because he did most of the decorating he usually won out, but you could tell my mom wasn't happy with the multicolored blinking tinsel-slathered behemoths in the living room.

I'm not sure which look I like better. Excessively garish and blinky light displays make me roll my eyes, but the tasteful one-light-color looks often make me want to ring the decorator's doorbell and say "For chrissakes -- it's Christmas! Relax the damn sphincter muscles and have some fun!"

Yes, fun. I'm still in my Christmas Fun Girl mode.

So. My birthday's next Monday, and I don't want it to be that close. I don't want December to be that far gone already. It doesn't bother me to be turning 33, but I don't want the holidays to be over that fast, and once my birthday is over Christmas is pretty much right on us. The workdays leading up to the big day get to be a joke -- between office parties and everyone taking off early to finish shopping, nothing at all gets done and the days pass in a flash.

And there's not a damn thing I can do about any of that other than try to enjoy it all while it's here, so enough whining.

I grabbed Bill's CD of Pink Floyd's "The Wall" this morning -- "Comfortably Numb" had been running through my head off and on all week.

Wow. What an incredible album. I'd forgotten how amazing "The Wall" truly is. Listening to it again took me right back to when I first heard it. "Another Brick in the Wall Pt. II" was all the rage with my friends when I was in fifth or sixth grade (don't remember quite which). There's something extremely funny to me now about a bunch of spoiled little preadolescent rich brats in private-school uniforms marching around braying "We don't need no education!" (And that was all well before the movie with the English schoolkids falling into the meat grinder.) But it just seemed so daring, so defiant. It spoke to me, man.

And I listened today and the amazing stuff kept coming: Parts I and III of "Another Brick in the Wall;" "Comfortably Numb;" "Goodbye Blue Sky;" "Thin Ice;" "One of My Turns;" "Hey You;" "Mother;" "Is There Anybody Out There;" "Run Like Hell." It was like an electric jolt down the spine. A blast of cold water in the face. Well, maybe not that shocking. It was more like running into an old friend I hadn't seen in years and realizing that this person was every bit as cool and interesting as I'd remembered.

So, if you used to like "The Wall" and haven't heard it in a long time, I highly recommend digging it out again. And that's my Christmas Fun Tip for the day.


The next entry.

Previously, in Insomniaville...

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