contact has been made

I have to repeat that 108 times…

Ok, my problem is collecting again. We all know my obsession with collecting junk. Now, however, I’m collecting international names. I’m trying to find out the forms of 98 different names in 33 languages. So… altogether I have to figure out 3234 different names. Holy crap, that’s a lot. I’m about 2/4 of the way there… some languages don’t have versions of names. For example, Greek and Armenian don’t seem to have Germanic-rooted names, like Robert, Richard, and Gerald. Pretty much every language has Joachim except English. We don’t really use that name, except when mentioned in the Bible, and even then nobody is sure how to pronounce it.

Blah blah blah. I find this all fascinating, but I’m sure 99.9997% of the planet doesn’t give a rat’s ass. I like that phrase: rat’s ass. What does it mean? Is it one of those things that you say just because it rhymes, like “Drunk as a skunk” or “In like Flynn?” But it doesn’t really rhyme…

Anyway, I can drive now.

I went to the DMV this morning (visit #3 in a week!). I had forgotten my checkbook, so I ran to an ATM before hand– I found one in a 7-11, though later I discovered a Bank of America one 3 blocks closer to the DMV. Oh well, I paid the $1.50 non-Citibank user’s fee, got the kizzash, and left my awesome handmade pink fuzzy mittens on top of the ATM.

The DMV opened 10 minutes late due to some weird glitch, but I still got in and paid my citation in record time. The lady who took my paperwork was really nice– we joked about losing our glasses, then I discovered that the fee was $2 more than I thought it was. I dig around for change, but the lady donated $1.40 to my fine so I could finally go on my way. Thanks, DMV lady! She was super nice. Then I went upstairs and got my licence renewed, complete with new picture. Now, instead of looking like a pissy 300-lb eskimo, I look like a bored chubby Asian, which is what I pretty much am, so it’s all OK.

My time at the DMV was so short I had time to run back to the 7-11, and lo and behold, my mittens were still there! I was still way early for work, so I went to the post office and mailed some packages and then changed my shrink appointment because it turns out that the lady who was scheduling the appointments didn’t know how to use the appointment scheduling software, so she had me in for two appointments on Tuesday, and then one next Monday when the doctor isn’t even in that building, and the following Tuesday (the day I had asked for) at the wrong time. Hopefully, all is straightened out now. It feels good to get so much dumb stuff accomplished! Before 9:30 a.m. even! Since I didn’t have to be at work until 11:00, I went upstairs to the abandoned floor in the building where we use the bathroom and read my book for an hour. I’m reading White Teeth by Zadie Smith. So far it’s pretty rad.

Saki came over after work and we ate pizza and made jokes about random stuff, culminating in us making up a song called “Kosovo” to the tune of the Beach Boys’ “Kokomo.” I’m sure it’s been done before since it’s such an obvious parody, but I bet ours is funnier! Of course I can’t remember the words now but whatever. I’m sure if I were to put them down here you would all laugh so much you’d get hernias, so for the good of your health I’ll sign off now.

I want a giant salad (mixed greens + baby spinach) with one or more of the following items on top: cranberries, feta cheese, chicken, carrots, hard boiled eggs, croutons, bacon bits, chick peas, onions, and cucumbers.

On the side, I want a giant bowl of fruit salad containing: granny smith apples, grapefruit, oranges, bananas, pineapple, strawberries and some walnuts sprinkled on top.

If I were to buy the ingredients for all of this, it would totally blow my food budget for the next 3 months! produce is wicked expensive! This is probably why I haven’t eaten any plant matter in a number of weeks; I’ve been living on spaghetti and various forms of canned fish on toast.

When I’m a zillionaire, I’m going to build a greenhouse so I can have fresh produce all year round. So there!

I got up an hour early today to go to the DMV as soon as it opened. I got there at 8:15 (it opens at 8:30) and there were already about 20 people lined up at the door! It was OK, though, the line moves pretty fast at that hour. Besides, there are 4 different floors of DMV activity, so everyone split up. I discovered why last week I waited for 2 hours in the waiting room and the letter my ticket was for (B407) wasn’t even called (they only called A’s and F’s and the occasional D)… I was waiting on the wrong floor! All the B’s and C’s are serviced on the second floor! I’m glad the ticket giver-outer lady told me about that this time!

Thus I journeyed up to the second floor, which with its harsh flourescent lighting, grey-streaked linoleum tile floor and wooden benches looks pretty much exactly like the downstairs waiting room. I only had to wait 6 numbers before I was called, and in the mean time an ancient (OK, she was born in 1930, but she looked about 100) Chinese lady came and sat down next to me. She came up to about my chest in height, and probably weighed about the same as Mikala. She spoke pretty much no English; she showed me her expired temporary ID paper and twittered on in Chinese. I tried to explain the form she was holding, but she didn’t understand. I offered her a pen, but she declined, instead handing me her ID and the form. Apparently, I was to fill out the information for her.

From the ID paper (I have no idea where her permanent ID was; she just had this temporary one which had expired in 2005) I was able to get enough info to fill out most of the form– name (HER NAME WAS DICK WANG!!!!!! SERIOUSLY! AN OLD LADY NAMED DICK!!), address, her SS# was also her ID number since she had an old skool ID from before they stopped doing that. However, I tried in vain to ask if she was taking any medication or had any medical conditions that would hinder her ability to drive a car… but decided that even if she did, it wouldn’t matter, since she was just getting an ID and not a driver’s license. I had to ask if she was a U.S. Citizen, because that’s another box you have to check, and her reply was “B. O. S. T. O. N. M. A.” as she pointed to the letters after her address. I left that one blank. I didn’t even bother asking about whether or not she wanted to be an organ donor or to register to vote, and I hoped that she didn’t have a suspended license in another state.

In the end, I told her to sign, and pointed to her name and the blank on the form, and she printed, very neatly and slowly in block letters, “D I C K W A N G.” When I tried to explain that she had to fill in the date line, too, she told me her apartment number, so I showed her my form where I had filled it in. She copied the numbers 2/26/08 in the same slow, careful writing, pausing awkwardly at the slashes between the month and date and year. I think in the end she decided that they were 1’s, because she wrote straight up and down lines.

What is it about me that makes everyone seek me out for help? People always stop me on the street for directions, calling me “honey” and “sweetie” before I’ve barely gotten a word out (mostly middle-aged women, too!) I have partially pink hair! I look MENACING, dammit! Argh. People would probably find Noam Chomsky a lot more of a scary threat in the DMV than me. Next to me, Ralph Nader probably looks like Darth Vader. Darth Nader. I used that as a log in name somewhere, but I can’t remember where…

Anyway, I finally got through the 6 people and went up to the window, fully filled-in form in hand. The DMV lady punched something into the computer and said, “your licence is suspended. You can’t do that here until you pay a citation downstairs.” CITATION? What citation? I swear that I paid that ticket I got last summer. OK, apparently not, because after getting in line downstairs to talk to the citation-payer lady, I discovered the $50 ticket is now up to $203, including late fees, administrative fees, processing fees, and some random $10 surcharge. I had 200-something in my bank account last time I checked, so I figured I’d just pay it and be done with it. If I sent it through as “credit” instead of “debit”, it would take an extra day to go through so I could go home tonight and transfer some money from my savings account to cover it if I didn’t.

but no, I couldn’t do that, because they don’t take debit cards on the first floor, only on the second and fourth floors! They accept only cash or checks in the Citation Paying Room, neither of which I had on me. I considered running to an ATM, getting some kizzash and running back, but then I’d have to stand in line again to pay, and then in line yet again to get my licence renewed, and the hour I had allotted myself before I had to be at work was running out.

Well Ok, this gives me time to get my tax refund so I can use that to pay the $203. Oh wait a minute, no I can’t because I can’t pay taxes until I get my licence renewed thanks to our friend the Patriot Act. Grrr. it’s just frustrating to have had my taxes done for a month now, but still not be able to file them. Fuck you, Patriot Act!

Come on, seriously– what terrorist is going to file someone else’s taxes, especially someone like me’s taxes? I can see Osama bin Laden now, “in the name of Allah, I will file this girl’s taxes, and in 4-6 weeks, with the $340 I get back from the state, I will build a bomb that will take out the entire country!”

Lard Ass won’t stop sneezing. He’s got some kind of upper respiratory infection, I think. poor Lardy Boy– he doesn’t seem very peppy these days. Unfotunately, I lack both the time and the money to take him to the vet. I hope Jarvis doesn’t catch it! Just like Me + Mikala + Allie = McAllienorah, and Jacob + Ari = Jarri, I found out that my cats together are Larvis or Larvae. I’m gettin’ old! I can’t tell the gall durn cats apart!

I’ve been obsessing over my International Names page lately. I found a page of Estonian names, all inEstonian of course, and I’ve been trying to figure out what the translations of English names are. Also, I found a good page on Scandinavian names, so I’ve been working on that. I think I really need a life or something!

It dawned on me the other day when Saki and I were in Blanchid’s (the liquor store), that I really haven’t had many alcoholic beverages in months. With the exception of X-mas at home (everyone in my family partakes of the eggnog– it wouldn’t be a holiday if everyone weren’t smashed on X-mas cheer!), and Laura’s and Jack’s party in which I didn’t drink all that much, I really haven’t had anything around. I have exactly one beer, 1/4 bottle of blackberry Manischewitz leftover from Passover, and about 2 shots of really crappy cheap vodka in the house. I didn’t even drink anything on Hannukah! WTF? I used to be a giant lush! I”m losing my touch. Then I realized what the deal was– poverty. I’m just way too poor to be a drunk these days! Plus, I no longer live under the influence of the Biatch, who was the primary booze buyer before. Also, since I don’t live in Allston, I don’t hang out with Terrence and Tanya as much (ok mainly Terence is the Bad Influence). Maybe I just don’t like drinking alone at home. I mean, that never stopped me before, but these days I guess I’m More Mature or some shit.

I watched the Oscars last night– I can’t keep myself away! I love the Oscars to death; i don’t know why. I don’t care about any other awards. There wasn’t really anything too exciting or unexpected last night, other than the fact that every single chick seemed to be in a red dress with weird straps. I’m glad Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won for best song, though! Yay!

There are very few songs in this word that I absolutely despise. Actually, OK, I’m wrong, there are a lot of songs in this world that i despise, but none as much as the ones played over and over on Lite 97 FM in the late 90s. I was working a crappy jon in this stupid lab, and had to listen to Lite Rock blasting all day. Occasionally, someone would change the radio to the College Rock station, and lo and behold, they were playing the exact same thing, minus the Phil Collins.

This was the line-up:

1. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”
2. That song by Blues Traveler that goes “once upon a mumble mumble mumble something something to my head…”
3. “Walkin’ on the Sun” by Smash Mouth
4. “Closing Time” by Semisonic.

This is the era when all bands had exactly 3 words in their names: Deep Blue Something, Third Eye Blind, Goo Goo Dolls, Ben Folds Five uh… Match Box 20, Bare Naked Ladies… ok i cheated, but you get the idea.

Of all of those songs, and I’m including all of the other songs they played in constant rotation on Lite 97 (stuff by Sarah McLachlan, Jewel, Shania Twain, LeAnn Rimes, Savage Garden, Sixpence None the Richer and Celine Dion), no song irked me more than “closing Time.” It was a song that seemingly glorified the vapid college-kid bar existence while at the same time attempting to be philosophical. It was repetitive, really slick in its bland production, yet amateurish sounding all at once. That song had the power to make me break out into convulsions upon hearing it.

When I heard that the drummer from Semisonic wrote a book about his rock n roll experiencem (OK, I’m a couple of years too late, but I just found it in my book exchange list), I had to read it, simply because in the intervening decade, I had developed such a massive annoyance with this song, I had to read about it because it was now legendary in my mind and I wanted to know the truth: was “Closing Time” really a song written by Satan himself and unleashed upon the world in order to lull it into a Lite Rock stupor so he could turn the earth into a New pit of Hell?

This book is actually pretty cool. It details the day-to-day life of an ordinary dude who became a rock star. It’s funny and irreverant, and sheds light on not only “Closing Time” (which I find myself wanting to hear so I can see what he’s talking about in the book) but the music industry, and that era of rock n roll in general. The drummer from Semisonic seems like a really cool guy, as do the rest of the people in this band.

It’s strange how I’ve theoretically changed my mind on one of my most hated songs… Of course, I haven’t actually heard “Closing Time” since I’ve been reading the book– we’ll see if I can put this new respect into practice when that song actually comes on in the grocery store or someplace! CVS has become mildly hip– I’ve heard Jamie Lidell and Spoon in between the standard Lionel Richie and Bryan Adams– maybe Lite Rock is getting cooler? I think the sad truth is just that I’m getting older and maybe not rocking so hard. Next I’ll probably be gushing about Josh Groban and Michael Bublé.

Don’t trust anyone over 30.

Heh.

Saki and I just got back from seeing There Will Be Blood. I enjoyed it, but the ending leaves you with only one response, which is something along the lines of “well. Ok then.” I thought it was good, but I really don’t see what all the hype is about. I think movies about crazy people, or people who slowly go crazy are kind of a cop-out. I mean, you can have anybody say or do anything without worrying about keeping in character or within the plausibility of the plot as long as they’re nuts. It’s kind of a deus ex machina kind of thing. Read Tess of the d’Urbervilles if you don’t believe me.

I liked No Country For Old Men a whole lot more.

Because I am such a compulsive trash-picker, I picked up a very large picture out of a trash heap on my way to the movie from work. It’s about 2 feet by 3 feet, and has two nicely matted prints of woodcuts of vases. The frame is new, but made to look old (pre-crappified– I love it!), and the glass is in perfect condition. I carried it all over Downtown Boston today and into the movie theater. I think I embarassed Saki– Yeah, I’m the chick lugging around the giant picture that I can barely carry! It’s cool; though I think I’m going to use the mats & frame for something else.

The wristwatch that I bought for $14 at CVS last year finally shat the bed (as they say here in Mass). I checked out the Timex watch that I’ve bought at K-Mart and K-Mart like stores for the past 15 years, and they’ve gone up in price. The thing that I liked most about those watches was that they were wicked cheap (about $14), but suddenly they’re $30 or more. So… I’ve been obsessing about watches, since I don’t really have any clocks in my house and my watch is my lifeline to reality.

I’ve become obsessed with Russian military watches. Maybe it’s because I’m a Child of the 80s, and I came of age in a time when Soviet military stuff was totally rad with the artfag set. I had lots of Soviet-era pins and a big Soviet Union flag hanging in my room back in the day. I have always loved the efficient-yet-elegant look of military stuff, and in foreign countries it doesn’t have the baggage of US military stuff, although that’s cool too. Plus, Russian just *looks* cool as a language!

The problem is, the watches are pretty expensive for my budget. I mean, I’m used to spending, well, $14 on a watch that’s more or less disposable after it dies in a couple of years. Do I want to spent like $60 on a watch I’ll have for the rest of my life? Prrobably not at least until I get my tax refund back…

Here are some cool ones:

I *heart* submarines!!!

This “Watch are created in honour of 50 years the terminations of the WWII.”

This one has the space dogs Belka and Strelka!

This one’s just cool with the rocketship. It doesn’t look very durable, though.

…unlike this freaking SWEET KGB one that’s waterproof to 670 feet.

I know that there are like a zillion Russians out there selling Soviet-era stuff, some of it really from then and some of it new and made to look like stuff back then to sell to naive Americans like me… this is probably why I will never actually buy a real watch, and instead get so sick of not knowing what time it is that I break down and buy the Dalek watch at Newbury Comics (even though it’s digital).

Until then, I’ll use the digital Yoda watch that the Biatch gave me from Burger King. I am too retarded to be able to read a digital watch, though. I have to look at the numbers and then picture a dial with hands in my head in order to process what the numbers mean. Yeah. My brain is kind of wacky.

Today I’m going to get rid of all of the semi-broken electronics lying around my house. First order of business– see if the turntable and the flat-screen monitor I picked up off the street actually work. Second: get rid of the DVD player that requires pliers to open it. Third: get rid of the two crappy printers that need ink that are taking up too much space.

Let’s go!

I’ve been stressing out about this job interview tomorrow– I need to bring a portfolio, but all of my work is on my computer and I didn’t have a printer. Moth called and said she’d buy me a printer, so I went to Best Buy and bought one. I got it home and hooked it up, and tried to print one of my documents, but it was way too huge, and it was taking forever, so I cancelled it. Unfotrunately, it’s still cancelling. It’s been cancelling for about 20 minutes now. I know I don’t have much RAM on this computer, but seriously! This is annoying!