Monday, April 07, 2008
Angst seems to be good for my creativity, though, which is kind of nice. I had all these plans to clean the whole house and mow the yard and so on and none of these things got done; they rarely do, of course, but this weekend I had the vaguely bonafide excuse of being all emotionally wrung out and freaking out and sorrowing. I did, however, make some art and go to Target, where I bought a nifty gold and white boom box that is perfectly round in a very retro future way so that it looks like a boom box Captain Kirk might have carried to a picnic on Zebulon IV if he was planning to seduce one of the lovely green skinned princesses there. It's even more Zebulon-y now since last night I glued some jewels on it; I was briefly at loose ends with the glue gun and, you know, what the hell. Unfortunately, I should maybe not have done that, because now I can't return it for being finicky, which it unfortunately is. I got it because it was supposed to play MP3s and CD-Rs and all that fancy techy shit, but on several of my CDs it hops around like a metaphor that is slightly less cruel but equally as jittery as a frog on a hot griddle. Damn. I need an industrial strength CD player that isn't fazed by dog toothmarks and aeons of dirt, not some wimpy thing that demands perfect CDs.