Tomorrow is Day 200 of Project 365 and I'm already getting performance anxiety. On Day 100, I got everyone at my house to jump and I took their picture and it was cool. Frankly, I was a whole lot cooler 100 days ago. Right now I'm in a bit of a funk and I'm trying to change my entire lifestyle or something so that I can sort of get my shit together at least temporarily. This is hard to photograph because it seems to involve a lot of staying home and reading fantasy novels and walking around in circles talking to myself. Trust me, you don't want to see that. Even, or perhaps especially, since I do most of this great wisdom seeking in my hot pink with giant hot green limes on them capri pajama pants and my vintage (by dint of the fact that I still own it) 1988 14th St. Leave Me Alone oversized T-shirt. It's a fetching ensemble and it goes well with my ubernerdchick glasses. Also, I have mysterious bug bites that itch like crazy.
And ticks. No, not the kind that make you twitch, although, actually, there is nothing like the feeling of a tick strolling around on your body looking for a good place to settle down for a leisurely lunch to make you twitch. This morning I knew there was one on my back, which made me keep reaching my hand up behind my neck to casually probe around under my shirt. This is a complex maneuver that is extremely difficult to manage casually in an office setting, like, oh, don't mind me, I suddenly have this urge to root around under my clothes, it's nothing, really. You can get away with that once but by the fourth time people are staring, believe me. And you really don't want to say, "Uh, sorry, I think there's a tick or two on me." People are so squeamish these days, sheesh.
I finally found it about an hour later in my hair: fortunately, I was alone at that point. And then, of course, I spent the rest of the day jumping about and rubbing myself all over just in case that tick had friends and relations along for the ride. I didn't even go to the river this morning, which seems unfair - I only went over to the calm, tame (one would think,) orderly environs of Malvern Hills Park. Why no river this morning? That would be because the nifty Timex clock radio which I bought for young M for Christmas from the clearance rack at K-Mart for $11, which he naturally spurned and which I finally opened up and installed in my room about 3 weeks ago, just up and died. This has made me furious, because among other things, it took me at least an hour to decipher the manual and actually set the goddamn thing. But I liked it because the numbers were constantly changing color and all those hallucinogens I took in the early 80s has made me fond of that sort of psychedelia. Damn planned obsolescence. Damn Timex. I never even licked the stupid clock and yet it metaphorically ticks no longer.
Oh and hey, my friend Z took a good picture of me a coupla weeks ago with the fantastic bumper sticker I found in my basement which is now on my car. Is love better than Schlitz? I have no idea. I don't think I've ever had a Schlitz (does it even still exist, that harmoniously named lager?) and these days I'm leery as hell of love.
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2 comments:
Several things:
I warned you about the ticks!
I would like to see a concept photo that captures your feelings right now. With the colorful outfit you described, and the walking in circles, and incorporating blur because I like blur and it seems appropriate based on your description of your feelings.
Never licked the clock, LOL!
Schlitz, the first word I could read. I learned it when my dad would take me down to Dressels Schiller Lounge every Saturday as a child. They had the coasters with Schlitz imprinted. I probably just recognized the word, didn't read it.
Great pic, Flitz. Schlitz is now owned by Pabst:
http://www.pabst.com/mainpage.html
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