I just noticed something icky on the leg of my Jeans. Must - Do - Laundry.

I took my TV into my bedroom last night. I watched the late night talk shows until 3 or so, when the last of the reruns finished, then rolled over and went to sleep. Perhaps I should have gotten a junior one bedroom or a studio. Sometimes my apartment seems too large for me. Maybe that's why I sleep in the bathroom sometimes, it's such a smaller room, I can touch the walls. I opened my eyes at 11Am, but I didn't move. I fell back asleep soon after. My eyes opened again at 12:30. I set my alarm for 2 and covered my head with the blankets. They smell like smoke, I need to wash them, I need to wash everything. Maybe if I’d gotten up at 11 I could have done some laundry. But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? I mean why break my morning routine. I wake up, lie there as long as I can, stumble into the tub and sit there in the dark with the water hitting me in the face for as long as the hot water holds out. I struggle to find something to wear and then run out the door to the bus stop. I actually left early enough to catch an earlier bus, but of course I forgot something and had to run back to my apartment, then I stopped to get my mail. The bus passed me as I approached the light. I walked down to Eastern (about 10 minutes) and just managed to catch an Express bus that doesn’t stop at Spencer. We were a few minutes too late to catch the Pecos bus, so I had a 20 minute wait there. I managed to get to work just on time. I get into work and my boss gives me my annual review. To top things off, I can’t remember my work email password and I’ve got a sore throat.
A friend I haven’t seen in a year emailed me, pleading for me to call him. He doesn’t have a computer at home, he uses the machines at school (a Junior College that I attended years ago.) Of course I have no phone. It makes things difficult for us to communicate. Almost all of my friends are wired, they each have multiple email accounts and IM accounts. The one or two people in my life that don’t are almost ghosts to me. I guess it’s nice to be able to talk to people, to hear their voice, but is it worth the money to me? Since I moved into my own apartment, my budget shrank so much that I had to choose what’s most important to me. Do I give up smoking? Well, guess not. Still spend $120 a month on that. Ouch, that would pay for a phone and cable TV.

I just got a whopping 2% raise after 14 months. That is so lame. I took a promotion and a pay cut. They wonder why I'm so lazy.

A friend came over last night. She had to leave at 3AM though. So I went to the Double Down, a local dive bar. Of course I stayed up way too late. Oh well, such is life.
I'm waiting for a delivery. Albertson's delivers now, and you can order online. $10 fee for the delivery, but it's so worth it if you don't drive. I mean why spend hundreds of dollars on a car when you don't need to? I can have everything but beer delivered.

I am so hungry. All I have to eat is canned corn and noodles. I couldn't eat that right now if I tried. A friend recommends Pizza Hut, they take orders online. Hell yes. I really don't want to go anywhere. I notice that the order says "cash" and not "credit" as I'd intended. Oh fuck. I've only got $4 on me. I put on my shoes and run to the nearest store, I need beer anyway. I get a 12 pack and $20 cash back and run home. I see a delivery car pulling in as I enter the complex. I'm in front of my door, but he's nowhere. It must not have been for me. There is a knock on the door, oh yes, pizza goodness. Large Veggie Delight and bread sticks. Damn. I tip the guy $5. I eat until I can't eat anymore. That fucker forgot the crushed peppers, but fuck it, I'm full. And I can eat for a few days.

Unscheduled days off are nice. I almost wish I had cable television. I remember sick days as a child, my mother would make me soup and I’d watch cartoons and some movies, never leave bed. I guess I could clean my apartment or something, but I’m just geeking. I’m listening to music and remembering. It’s only 5 PM, but it feels like 1 AM, I’m not used to doing this so early. I’m very happy right now, it seems like everything is in place. It’s a wonderful respite from the self-loathing of the past few weeks. Things are picking up; I’m starting to remember that people care about me and that I am a part of a wonderful community of friends. I only wish a few of them were here right now. I feel like putting up some of my posters. My apartment has been so bare, I’ve neglected it. It’s not like many people will see my decorations but it feels so wonderful to come home to a bright explosion of blue Christmas lights and vivid posters. When I lived with my mother, more than 10 years ago now, my room was wallpapered with film posters. Clips from some disturbing moments in cinema filled the eye. I had a large American flag covering the ceiling, covering the light. When you walked in, you could only smell the moth ball and leather scent of a military warehouse. You could barely see. My apartment in Bakersfield had more light, but the clutter made up for it. There were posters, music and computer equipment everywhere. I’ll make this in to a home yet.

Got some loot in the mail today, a great friend got me a copy of the Seventh Seal and a doll of Dr. Caligari!!!

4ish AM, I'm uploading my first binary post to Usenet. I'm uploading a rare CD, a comp called 'Absolute', something I've had a few goth bois lusting over my body and offering me money for. It feels good to be part of a community, to give back and not just leech.

As I exit the bus at Flamingo and Pecos, I notice a woman in her early 20’s. She is wearing ripped denim shorts, which strikes me as odd since it’s below 60 degrees today. Over a black shirt that simply says “Revolution”, she has a dirty-orange color (a color I can only see in 70’s corduroy) coat. She has soft, plain features; high arched eyebrows and light brown freckles. I can tell she takes care of herself. Along her left leg is a flowery tattoo that extends from her ankle to the top of her thigh, its terminus an inch from where the tattered shorts begin. She wears no makeup. I wonder why she has made this spectacle. I remember a conversation I had with some friends from California about how all of Las Vegas is spectacle in a deconstructionist sense; I doubt this woman has read any Derrida, however. She sits near a black couple with a young child. The male of the couple is smoking, the object of my gaze lights a cigarette and I am back in California, wondering why these people have no respect for the air of others. I step away a few yards to light my own clove cigarette. The couple only notices her to ask what time the bus is due. As we board the bus, she slides her pass through the fare box and is greeted with a high pitched denial. The driver tells her to sit down and she can look for the change. Two older women are near where we sit, they begin to comment on her tattoo. I cringe with Victorian pride, it’s just rude to comment on someone’s physicality. The tattooed woman makes her egress at Tropicana and quickly disappears from my sight.

The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, unto the sepulcher. --John xx. 1

I watched my DVD of Ju Dou last nite. Piss poor transfer, painful to watch. All the color and glory that I remember from the theater was gone, I might as well been watching it on a 13" black and white TV.
Here are some other Chinese films I've seen and would recommend. Just be careful about the quality of the transfer.

Raise the Red Lantern
Red Sorghum
Farewell My Concubine