Monday, December 31, 2007

Bonjour from Paris!

It's our last day here, and it's New Year's Eve. I'll write more later about it, but you can take a look at my Flickr for a few pics that weren't totally awful (as well as a handful of shots that were on my camera from Thanksgiving, bunnies, etc. that I never bothered to upload).

Mine and mom's are here.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Four birthday cakes.

That's what I made this year: four recipes of cakes for birthdays, including my own. I am not calculating how many calories or how much fat that is, but I did use whole wheat flour and everything was vegan, so damn, it was practically HEALTHY, right? Plus I am addicted to Vegan with a Vengeance/Veganomicon, so that's what all these came from.

Apple spice cupcakes -- Sunday with Kevin, his mom, and her boyfriend
The panuche on top was a bit overpoweringly sweet, but the cupcakes themselves were lovely. I'd describe them as fluffy apple muffins. Mmmm.

Blueberry coffee cake and jelly donut cupcakes -- Tuesday at work
Easy and a big hit at the office. I brought my own desserts to negate HR's desire to buy something gross and overly sweet and force everyone to sing the birthday song. I hate the birthday song, except when it's (a) a comedic version or (b) off-key and coming out of my adorable boyfriend while he's still in bed, his head peeking out from under the covers. The jelly donut cupcakes were not quite as good as I'd hoped, but the blueberry coffee cake I made on a lark (thinking 12 cupcakes wasn't enough for my office of piggies) was pretty awesome.

Chocolate raspberry layer cake with "ganache-y" icing -- Sunday with Kevin's dad's family
We haven't left yet so this is sitting on my counter, wrapped in plastic, looking like something I would have paid $20 to buy at Whole Foods but that I actually made my fuckin' self and I think it's going to be a winner. Amazing.

I didn't make any cookies this month, or even pies, but I feel my cake-baking has been successful. I am now ready to go and let the professionals in France bake everything for me and show me how fat and happy I can really be.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Happy birthday to me! And my mom!

And Kevin! And all the other December birthdays I know (and there are PLENTY).

I still haven't written about Thanksgiving. Bad me. But it was delightful, I promise.

But I will talk about my birthday.

My friends Steve and Jenn conspired with Kevin to surprise me (in the sense that I wouldn't know what we'd be doing, not that I didn't know anything was happening) with a fun birthday activity.

We left around 7. Kevin had the directions all written out and didn't say a word, just silently drove up 280. We got off at the exit I know to be Palo Alto and headed towards the part of town where Homma's Brown Rice Sushi is. Excellent! After a filling meal, we got back in the car and headed north on 101. Definitely not staying in Palo Alto, as I might have thought -- what, it could've been something at the Stanford Theatre, perhaps -- but rather all the way up to the city, then off at 9th and Civic Center... hmm... this is the exit for Slim's. But no outward appearances gave away the event itself, not even the signage at Slim's. We were inside before Steve told me: we are seeing Shonen Knife!

Now, Shonen Knife is a band I am only a little familiar with and never would have thought to go see, but that has totally changed. This show was fucking awesome, people. That was some solid rocking out we did. So the birthday surprise evening was a success. Even Kevin had fun, which was practically the icing on the cake for me.

Anyway, it's time to get ready for work. Paris plans are coming together (I'll be posting pics to Flickr, of course) and this ridiculous year is wrapping up, finally.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

We are slobs and we must be reformed.

It's Saturday morning. Monday night my mom is flying to town. Thursday we're having several guests over to cook and eat our strange, vegetarian, Japanese Thanksgiving feast.

In its present state, no one will be able to sit down to eat anywhere in my house. There is enough room for maybe one person to cook anything. And there is crap absolutely everywhere.

Yes, we're working on it. I am making slow but steady progress de-crapping the kitchen. Kevin cleared off the couch last night and finished loading the dishwasher, which is now running. (Of course, that was after I said I'd be pissed if he stayed up until 3 playing Super Mario Galaxy and failed to make any movement in the cleaning arena.) I have at least two loads of laundry ready to go. I scrubbed the public areas of the bathroom (i.e., everything but the shower), cleaned out the rabbits' litter boxes, and picked up my room -- enough so it's at least presentable for people to go meet the bunnies. I bought more laundry detergent, paper towels, and a mop.

Kevin thinks we'll get it done. I think he better wake up before 1 or "we" will end up being "I" and "I" will be bitchy.

In addition to cleaning the shit out of my house, I also need to get veggies at the farmers' market (awww, what a horrible chore!) and bake cookies for the ice cream sandwiches we'll have on Thanksgiving (crispy almond with green tea ice cream and peanut-ginger-sesame with pumpkin ice cream).

Wish me luck -- I need it. I'll post photos and a menu after the fact.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Yo quiero Yo La Tengo.

I'm sure that one's never been done before.

Quickly: I want a button on the side of my head that I can push and fill my mind with the sounds of the Freewheelin' Yo La Tengo, because that shit was so awesomely relaxing and soothing and beautiful. I need that sometimes -- a lot of times, actually.

Blogger is a slug. I want to go see Jonathan Richman for my birthday (but before my actual birthday).

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Oh hell yes!

Went to see Ted Leo + Pharmacists (with Quasi opening) last night in the city. For me, it was sort of a benchmarking experience to see how far I'd come since first recognizing my depression issues earlier this year. I'd gone to see the same band in March and despite thinking the show was really good, I never really enjoyed myself, and it ate at me. Last night was a complete turnaround.

Also, we ate at Mekong, which is a Thai restaurant that everyone in SF probably already knows about, but it was new to us. It was love at first bite. The usual hallmarks of what makes me dig a Thai place were there -- brown rice, good spiciness, lots of veggie options (fake meat!) -- but it was possibly the least oily restaurant Thai I've ever had AND the flavors were amazing. The tea was good, too -- whole, loose leaf green tea with lotus blossoms in it or something; really nice. Absolutely no minuses (the prices even seemed reasonable) and it was a block from the concert venue. Win.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Christmas time isn't here.

But when it is, I'll be in Paris.

Monday, October 08, 2007

Deep breath.

The last couple months, in bullet form:
  • Working out the kinks in my anti-depressant dosing. 40 mg prozac seems to be about right. Joy.
  • Decided maybe going to the gym wasn't as bad as I always felt it was. Maybe was sort of right. Coughed up $$$ to join stupid 24 Hour Fitness because it was cheap and there. Have been exercising between four times a week and once a week every week since.
  • Besides that, I can't say I remember August in the slightest.
  • Oh, yeah, I bought myself unnecessary but entertaining personal electronics: a Nintendo DS and an iAudio 7. That is how I spent August.
  • My friends Steve and Jenn got married in what was an amazingly fun wedding down in Santa Cruz. Please note that this is a 45 minute drive from my house, not a $200 plane fare. Also, there was a bachelor party at which Kevin dressed up like a girl. I think I promised not to put those photos online.
  • Spent the next two weeks catsitting for said newlyweds. Their male cat who hates everyone but them eventually betrayed his lunatic exterior and let me give him love a few times.
  • Went to see Devendra Banhart one week and The New Pornographers the next, in shows I enjoyed immensely but after which Kevin announced that he no longer wished to go to concerts.
  • Flew to Portland for a relaxing weekend with the nieces. Mom and I took the oldest, who just turned 7, to the zoo and we all watched The Wizard of Oz and ate spaghetti.
  • Went to therapy and felt somewhat empowered to not just accept my lot in life. Thusly, I adopted the rabbits. There were a few other mental twists and turns before that point, but it's the most fun end result.

Their reign of terror has begun.

friends with salad
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

More photos at Flickr.

Sunday, October 07, 2007


Yesterday I adopted these rabbits.

More postings to come.

Sunday, July 08, 2007

And a good week was had by all.

First of all, I am sorry I didn't call everyone in Seattle. Wait, scratch that, I'm not really sorry, because I had a good time with the people I did see, and any more may have done me in.

Which is to say, I just got home from a week-long road trip to the Pacific Northwest with Kevin and his dad. We made it to Seaside just before sunset last Saturday. The next day, my mom and I headed to Olympia to visit Becky and her mom while Kevin and his dad took a scenic, coastal route up to Seattle to visit Kevin's sister and her baby daughter.

My mom and I got into Olympia mid-afternoon and headed straight to Becky's mom's house. We spent a comfortable evening and morning in their company (and that of the nice big dog and Becky's cat), eating spaghetti for dinner and looking at photos from Europe. Becky's mom had some shots from Paris that were hilarious (such as the B.M. Pressing sign). Becky also gave me a Mayan abdominal massage, which was really interesting, informative, and good. I would definitely seek this out in the future.

In the morning, we got coffee, thrifted at Value Village, got lunch and more coffee, then headed to North Bend to visit my aunt, her son, and his wife at their new “family compound.” We helped out with some unpacking and grocery shopping for them and enjoyed the tranquil surroundings. Their backyards look out onto grassy acreage, trees, and Mount Si. You can barely see any neighbors. It's completely ridiculous.

The next afternoon, my mom took me into Seattle to spend time with Kevin and his family. I was looking forward to meeting his 7-month-old niece, Zoe, and I'm glad I did: she has the most piercing blue eyes, a beautiful smile, and is a completely adorable baby. I am not really into babies, but I liked Zoe instantly. Kevin was happy to see me and I ended up staying over at their house.

I also heard from the few Seattle friends I had bothered to try to contact, so I got to see people on the 4th of July. First I walked around Green Lake with Christine. In jeans. In 85 degree heat. Smart! Then I walked another mile to Chris's house and met his new girlfriend and had lunch at Chile Pepper in Wallingford, which I always passed by and somehow never tried. I missed out: the cheese enchilada with mole sauce was delightful. Kevin met up with us and talked to Chris and Sara for awhile before joining me at the low-key (but completely jammin', by which I mean they were drunk-ish and making raspberry jam) holiday get-together at Lauren's house, co-hosted by Josie. Lauren finally made good on her threats to raise chickens (three non-roosters per household being allowed within city limits), one of which she named Jonathan Franz-hen after the owner of her house. Kevin had to leave suddenly when my mom, who was in the neighborhood to find some grub and pick me up, noticed a cop and some tow trucks near what she soon realized was Kevin's car and called me to make sure it didn't get towed away. (The no parking signs were put up after we checked, for the record.)

Mom wanted to get out of town before the post-fireworks traffic frenzy, so we did just that. We headed back to Olympia, thinking about maybe seeing a movie, but the times weren't right, so we drove by an old friend's house and stopped in to say hello. It was a nice visit with someone I haven't seen in a long time, someone I looked up to when I was in high school. Then we crashed at Becky's mom's house again, so I got to hang out with Becky some more and talk to her mom in the morning.

Thursday afternoon we drove to Portland and picked up my 6-year-old niece, Kahnya, and took her to see Ratatouille. I enjoyed the movie, and though I think a lot of it went over her head, she enjoyed enough of it that she wanted to help us cook dinner afterwards. After dinner, I took her and her little sister to the neighborhood park. In the morning, we read books in the backyard and waited for Kevin and his dad to appear. Yes, I have been dating the same guy for almost five years and this was the first time he met my Cambodian family. They warmed to him after awhile, once he crawled inside the playhouse with them and let them lay cards on his legs and arms (a strange game I cannot really explain).

I said goodbye to my brother and his wife and kids, as well as my mom, and headed south with Kevin and his dad. We grabbed lunch at a Whole Foods just south of Portland, then stopped only once to pee before making it to Mr. Shasta for the night. Kevin drove like a man on a mission: a mission to get home with one day of weekend left to spare. Kevin's dad loves Mt. Shasta and already knew where he wanted to eat and stay. We took it easy in the morning, taking time to check out the 4th of July street fair on the main drag before driving five hours straight home, stopping for lunch/dinner at Habibi in Fremont. I was so hungry I damn near licked my plate clean, and had dessert, too, but in my defense, it was pretty much the only meal I had yesterday.

Once home, Kevin helped me set up my new bed frame, which is pretty and gets me up off the floor a little more than I anticipated. It's very comfortable. This morning I made it back to my farmers' market and found plenty of goodies to get me through the next few days before we get our CSA share again. By the way, does anyone know what to do with fresh black-eyed peas?

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Oh, we're terrific.

Today was the appointed day. The day of reckoning. The day...of cleaning.

I have a blister on my right index fingertip from all the scrubbing. The folding table has been put back in the garage and the kitchen is no longer being used as a giant storage receptacle. Work surfaces have been scrubbed. Recycling has been brought out to the bin in droves. Floors were swept; rugs were vacuumed. And still, there is work yet to be done.

The kitchen is largely done, I think, but the living room has a bunch of Kevin's crap (and no doubt a little of mine) that needs to be dealt with. The room I'm in now (dubbed "The Other Room") is in extreme need of organization and purposing--my desk, project workspace for Kevin, sitting area, futon, storage. The futon needs its frame, which needs my new bed frame to be stained and assembled before it can stop moonlighting as a platform bed, and there's still a TV and PS2 in here, not hooked up to anything. And one of those large exercise balls (meant to be) used to do pilates and the like.

I ate a veggie chicken burger at Happy Bamboo today that was delightful. Pretty much all the food I put in my mouth today was heavenly, actually, save maybe the neglected, lukewarm coffee and the muggy room temp water. I made almond-cinnamon pancakes with strawberries for breakfast, and at lunch we had summer rolls and veggie drumsticks (quite possibly HB's best dish; the only thing we order unfailingly).

Also, I have been watching Twin Peaks season 2. I regret watching it after dark because it's nonsensical and fucked up in a way that can haunt my dreams.

Plus I am tired. I want to go to the farmers' market tomorrow and see if anyone has avocados, and buy peaches and cherries.

I am thinking of coming up to Portland/Seaside sometime in July, well after my mom gets home from Europe. I am trying to convince Kevin to come with me. I am feeling pretty anti-event-attendance this year, but I am warming up to the idea of casual socializing. It's feeling very hard right now, and I am feeling that I've wronged a lot of people and have a lot to apologize for, just by disappearing.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Things about today that were worthwhile.

  • Chopping off half my hair
  • Getting hit on by the ticket window guy at Maker Faire and only having to pay $10 to get in (under-21 student price--despite my asking for an adult ticket and being an adult, I was told, "Are you sure you're not a student? Aw, well, today you are." I blame the boobs, which were on display
  • Seeing the Evolution Control Committee perform, including the song that got them in hot water with CBS, "Rocked by Rape" (accompanied by a slide show that, among other things, once flashed an image of Tori Amos while the word "rape" was said)
  • Getting my current favorite soap from a vendor for $4 apiece
  • Meeting up with my sister and her friend, who ended up being pretty geeky-cool, as well as running into Jess and one of Kevin's coworkers
  • Kevin admitting that he was glad I convinced him to come, because he ended up getting a lot of information and enjoyment out of our brief time at the Faire
  • Eating, almost completely by chance, at a good South Indian restaurant we'd heard about before. Their spring dosa was TOPS

Oh Bjork, were you brought by the stork?

Last night we saw Bjork for the second time ever. I never thought I'd see her a first time, so this was a treat. It was at the massive (and massively ugly) Shoreline Amphitheater, which is just as impersonal and ad-ridden as you can imagine. Regardless, Bjork was lovely--resplendant in one of those bizarre getups only she could pull off, a sparkly gold dress with a bubble skirt and giant ruffles covering every other surface, coupled at times with a blue cape and a bigger, more colorful ruffled...thing on her chest. Oh, and transluscent white leggings with low-heel black ankle boots. Her accompaniment was a group of 10 Icelandic ladies playing horns (and wearing flags), a keyboardist, a drummer, and two dudes playing extremely high-tech and visually interesting synthesizers. Of course, Kevin immediately knew what the things were and approximately how much they cost. (Hint: It's a lot of money.)

She played stuff off Post, Homogenic, at least one thing off Vespertine ("Pagan Poetry" may have been the only one), the song from the Olympics, and mostly new stuff, I think. They played "I Miss You" with the horns and a trumpet solo and I thought we might get "It's Oh So Quiet" (horns!), but no such luck. But, "Army of Me" was one of my favorites--it ushered in the use of the green laser stuff, which looked kinda like they were shooting out of her arms when she held them up on the beat.

Joanna Newsom opened. I had only heard a little of her stuff before, and it was very quiet for such a large venue. Kevin told me he read on Wikipedia that she hates having her voice compared to a child's, but we both felt it was more like Cyndi Lauper's than anything. Kevin also suggested that Bjork only picks opening acts who won't upstage her (evidence: Joanna Newsom; Bonnie "Prince" Billy).

In other news, I have been going to therapy and I saw a psychiatrist who told me to try some prozac. I had been kind of feeling maybe better and was on the fence about medication, but I figured it can't hurt (too much) to try. I don't really know what else to say about that.

I've also been totally uncommunicative with friends, for months and months and months, and that is very bad. For the record, I probably won't answer the phone if you call me. I just...don't really feel like talking. If you email I will probably write you something back, but phones, no. And I will probably not send the first email, either, because I don't know what to say besides "Hi, how are you, I suck as a person and as a friend" and then the onus is on you to dispell these distorted thoughts I have about myself before you can even get around to talking about you for a change.

Music I have been listening to lately: Pony Up! (especially "The Truth About Cats and Dogs (Is That They Die)", Peter Bjorn and John, Ted Leo + Pharmacist's newest album.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Noise violations.

I could fucking KILL MY NEIGHBORS. Who the shit hires someone to come dig up their driveway with equipment that sounds like it's too busy eating babies' souls to do anything else AT 7:30 AM ON A WEEKEND? Who?

My neighbors. MULTIPLE TIMES. Two weeks ago it was the people next to me. That shit woke me out of a sound effing slumber. Today? People across the street. Same deal. I had my window open because it's goddamn 80 degrees up in here and fresh air is nice and LOOK HOW IT REPAYS ME.

I looked some shit the fuck up. CAMPBELL HAS A NOISE ORDINANCE. Of course they do. They are nice little nanny-state community. Do you know what time is legally acceptable for power tools on the weekend?


Complaints to be filed. Fuck you, neighbors.

Also, I am TOTALLY allowed to park on the STREET in front of your house.

Friday, April 27, 2007

HMOs suck.

Because an awesome system for people seeking psychiatric care for unknown-to-the-HMO reasons is to make it absolutely impossible for them to (1) schedule an appointment or (2) talk to a human being who isn't going to treat them like they are insignificant, then follow it up with a "Wait, this isn't an emergency, right?" like it's some kind of passing question. For a MEDICAL FACILITY.

I think my mom's potential response is best: "If I say yes, will I get an appointment?"

Jesus, I'm not standing on a bridge here, but. I really hate the phone, and I know they don't know that, but the simple fact that I've actually called them twice speaks volumes to the people who know me. I'm trying. Today I was okay; tomorrow I might not be.

For realsies.

I need a productive weekend. I have onyx-tinted water-based varnish and sealer/topcoat/whatever and other assorted tools to make the pieces of my unassembled, unfinished, solid pine platform bed frame into something vaguely attractive and protected so I can stop sleeping 3" off the floor on a mattress that's continually sliding off the side of the futon frame.

Saturday, April 21, 2007

On losing my shit.

In case you hadn't noticed, there has been a severe dearth of posts here lately. Sometimes even when I have a lot to say I don't want to spit it out in so public an arena (though I'm sure most people who tried to read me "regularly" disappeared) and sometimes I just don't want those thoughts captured for posterity. The internet is here to stay, people.

So obviously a major contributor to my not-blogging has been depression, which has a long and storied history lately for me. If you can call "wants to do nothing but lie in bed, watching incresingly shittier TV and eating Ben & Jerry's fudge brownie frozen yogurt until she's sick, if she feels up to getting some at the store without feeling insanely guilty about it" storied, anyway.

Really, I only did the B&J's bit once. Well, twice. But it's low fat. And I probably didn't eat dinner at least one of those times. I KNOW, OKAY.

But this has been going on for, oh, months now. At one point I had an enlightening conversation with my friend Chris, who--I love you, Chris, but part of me had this thought that I wasn't fucked up because, hey, Chris is way more fucked up than me! And here you are, doing the work to un-fuck-up yourself. Or at least that's what you told me and then you pretty much disappeared off the face of the internet, which only sounds healthy. (P.S. please email me that you're okay and didn't jump off a bridge or something.) Anyway, I kept oscillating between really low and totally neutral post-conversation and continued having more conversations with other people about, well, myself--this depression is really killing any notions I had of myself being NOT narcissistic--and trying to figure out what is up with me.

Really, I think it boils down to these things:
-I keep telling myself I can't do things.
-I keep not doing those things and adding new things to not do.
-I hate myself for not doing those things.
-I am indiscriminately angry at myself and the world.
-I feel stuck all the time.
-I feel unable to enjoy a lot of the fun things that happen in life, even if I actually do them.
-I am totally distracted by all of the above, especially the self-loathing thought loop, pretty much all the time.

This means:
-My house is a mess.
-I have a lot of chores that are typically not getting done.
-I had not been eating as well as I should (with the start of my CSA season I've been making headway in the "getting kitchen clean enough to cook, then actually cooking" department).
-Work feels hard because I can't concentrate as well as I should and I let those "I hate my job" thoughts take over.
-I lack confidence in the Secret Number 4 whatever thing (oh, hell, it's a casual job search).
-Totally not doing anything on the "get exercise" front, obviously.
-Totally not talking to pretty much anyone except the people who make a concerted effort to talk to me, and even then, I am mostly buttoned up. Then with the other people I can't shut the fuck up and it's all about me.

I am probably going to regret posting some of those things.

So yesterday, I finally got over my phone phobia (incidentally, also worse) enough to call fucking Kaiser and try to get an appointment to see a psychiatrist. And you know what? They were "extremely busy" and would have to call me back. Every time I went to the ladies' room at work on Friday afternoon I was trying to hurry up in case they called me back just as I was taking a dump. That's just undignified. But they have until Monday at 5, apparently, to call me back, so I guess I'll be worrying all of Monday, too. Thanks, mental health services at my HMO. You know how to make a girl feel special.

(It will all be forgiven if I get an appointment and shit works out okay. Otherwise, they can eat me.)

I am going to crawl back into my hole and stew over my neighbors' hiring a motherfucking cement mixer at 7:30 am for the second weekend in a row. Thanks a lot, assholes.

Thursday, April 12, 2007


Hey, look! It is a blog entry from mental_floss about the weird word I chose to use as my domain! How fun!

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

It's spring.

rogue chef - first course
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

I'm still here. Still feeling a looming gray cloud over my head. Still not really wanting to write about it so I can look back and cringe at my 25-year-old lameness when I'm 30 or older.

But here is a delightfully springy first course at the delightful Rogue Chef in Half Moon Bay. For more sexy food photos and other things, wander on over to my Flickr page, or for rambling about places I've been to lately, check out my Yelp page.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Up too close.

Well, I haven't blogged in ages. I've been here, having nothing to say, or nothing that I feel like saying in a public blog. I've been alternately finding refuge in idle entertainment, becoming horrified by my own settling, and getting sick, so it's been an awesome fucking month.

I did get a new cell phone, though. You know, that thing that I am unlikely to answer if you call. It has a lot of extraneous features (i.e., any of them that don't involve storing phone numbers, making phone calls, and receiving voice mail), some of which are even a little bit interesting, much as I hate to admit it. There is the camera, which allows me to take grainy photos of the world around me to use as my phone's wallpaper. There are the trial versions of java games that allow me to play the same one level repeatedly, if I am so inclined to use up my battery. There is a bluetooth deal that would allow me to walk around with the Borg-like earpiece, looking like a giant tool, if I felt like spending the money to get that. It also plays mp3s and gets FM radio, but I haven't really used those, either. Additionally, it is my first flip phone--and my first non-Nokia phone--so I am compulsively flipping it open and shut.

Wow, I had a lot to say about my fucking cell phone.

Two weeks ago I started getting weirdly sick--or not actually sick; it's unclear! I might've just been pushing my depression into some kind of psychosomatic illness, for all I know--and the result was missing 2.5 days of work, seeing my new doctor only to be told there is basically nothing wrong with me, and dropping the ball on what was shaping up to be a pretty decent fitness program. Motherfucker. I swear to christ that every time I try to be good, some shit happens and I lose my grip. It happened last fall with the walking to work/ankle sprain fiasco, and I'm sure it's happened other times. I can't tell you how many times I've dropped out of martial arts classes after suffering a cold and missing two sessions. (Okay, I can. It's twice.)

Right now, the only real symptom I'm experiencing is that I feel lightheaded pretty much all the time. It started when the illness started and I was on my period. I started taking B-12 at my doctor's suggestion, and I might add some iron supplements, but I don't know that this is actually a nutritional deficiency. Also, I know at least some of this was real because Kevin came down with most of the same symptoms.

Oh, this is disjointed, and I have no patience for anything. The smoke alarm is going off, again, as it likes to do when it's feeling neglected. It sees us in the kitchen, cooking, and we're not giving it affection, so it goes off. I want to throttle it, but I'll settle for angrily waving a broom at it.

I'm not feeling very inspired or motivated to do much of anything. Pretty much nothing appears to be happening on the Cryptic Step 4 thing and as the days drag on I feel less and less talented and interesting. I am going to waste in my own mind and at my own desk and I hate it. I have always been this fucking self-defeating; it's probably my worst trait (and I certainly have a lot of bad traits). I always feel like if I've got someone else to answer to, I can do anything, but left to my own devices, I'll languish.

Though even that last part isn't entirely true; I made a promise to an old friend and broke it in a seriously pathetic way. I still can't even talk to her, even though she's repeatedly told me all is forgiven. So what do you do when one positive thing you always believed about yourself is proven untrue?

I don't know, but right now the therapy involves watching shitty TV to pass the time and listening to music to grieve the passing of my soul.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

I hate depression.

I mean, I think that's what's going on, because I can't make my head stop beating myself up, and I feel like I've got nothing to look forward to or anything interesting to say, and food doesn't sound delicious, etc. That, and I've been passive-aggressive and neglectful and flaky in the extreme with regard to one friend and also haven't managed to get my shit together to smog-check my stupid car so I can get my new registration sticker, which is due.

I am trying to get some things working out better in my life, and have actually taken, like, three steps in that direction. Is it cryptic enough to say that I'm working on taking my future more seriously? Also I'm taking pilates at the Campbell community center, which, two classes in, is fucking difficult. That is step 1. Step 2 is that I bought some new athletic shoes, and step 3 will be to start walking to work again in said new shoes. Step 4 is the cryptic thing. Step 5 involves planning some travel, and I'm just feeling that out at the moment. Thinking of maybe Morocco, Spain; somewhere in the Mediterranean; Peru and Ecuador--I don't know. Somewhere that requires me to get shots (which I guess would leave out the European bit).

The things to look forward to include tickets to some cool shows, like Comedy Death Ray at SF Sketchfest on Monday, John Vanderslice at the end of February, and both Ted Leo + Pharmacists and the Mountain Goats in early March. It's an embarrassment of riches, and I can barely get excited. My brain is fucking stupid. It can only think of the annoying things that are happening around me and the things I am doing wrong.

Anyway, the new Blogger shit lets me tag things, whoopdy-do. So here's to tagging.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007


driftwood man, originally uploaded by emily ca..

Photos from my new camera (meaning, from my trip home) are now on Flickr. Rejoice, ye masses, and be merry.