my mental sieve...
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| Evil Wayne my mental sieve... |
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Tuesday, July 27, 2004 Comments Anyone? I'm attempting to activate the comments utility for posts. If it worked, this post will have the ability to have comments added to it (and all subsequent posts as well). The way I understand it, old posts do not have the ability to have comments added. So, did it work? posted by Evil Wayne | 12:28 AM 2 comments Monday, July 26, 2004 Working The new girl started today. Her name is Kate and I've decided that I have no opinion yet. How could I? I think I said a total of 14 words to her over the course of 7 hours, so it couldn't possibly be fair to have made up my mind one way or another. I do find it oddly disturbing that someone else is in that office. Great, just when I was starting to get used to surfing the web with impunity, now I'm back to feeling like there's someone watching me. Plus, Judi now occupies Steve's old office making us all one cozy little production department. There's tons of boxes, books, folders and papers spread out around the department making the whole place a huge, congested mess as they move the office contents about. The chaos was working on me today. I found a billion reasons to be distracted and took forever completing the project I was working on. I did manage to get through yet another Lovecraft story at lunch plus make it around the building three times in 20 mins. Not bad. So, while it seems to have taken me five months to read The Whisper in the Darkness I burned through The Dreams in the Witch-House and Pickman's Model in a week. Which really breaks down into a fractured series of lunches and not actual days. The finish work on the house is starting to bug me. It's that last mile that sucks and I find so hard to overcome. I can't seem to get it in gear and just finish whatever has to be done. So, somehow I manage to put it off and it burns another day. But damnit if Tine does actually get me to do something despite myself. I got the crib taken apart for now. Hopefully, the next time I'm putting it back together it will be for grandchildren to sleep in. Let us pray that there is a good 10+ years before I put it back together, shall we? I also got my great-grandmother's sewing table downstairs where Tine hopes to actually do some sewing. That would be groovy, considering I bought her a sewing machine at least two years ago (could be three at this point). It's been in the attic all this time, still in the box. Poor Tine. She needs a hobby (unless you count cleaning dishes... kidding, kidding). I want to start working on something myself and I just need to get a little more done and I can turn my attention towards it. I'm starting to get the sinking feeling that if I don't do something soon, it will pass and I will regret it. I'm sure I'll only churn out junk that nobody in their right mind would consider worthwhile. But I feel like I have to try and do something, even just so I know, really know it's crap. I think if I can just get the house in order, then I can really devote time towards working out some of the ideas I have floating around in my brain. Unless, of course, the boy has anything to say about it. :P posted by Evil Wayne | 10:08 PM 0 comments Sunday, July 25, 2004 Seeing Red Well, the Sunroom/Family room is finally painted red. Only is instead of looking warm and groovy, it sucks ass. I don't know exactly what's wrong, but the paint doesn't go on right. Or maybe it's my technique (but the more I think that, the more I realize that I paint the same way I've always painted. And I've done many rooms. This is the only one to come out funky like this. 
There's a molted effect, where the red doesn't seem to apply evenly. Only when I'm putting it on, it seems fine. As it dries, there are sections where the undercoat comes through. So there's darker areas and lighter parts. But it doesn't look good at all. It looks sloppy and unprofessional (not that I'm a pro painter or anything). Tine is really unhappy and I can't say I blame her. I don't like it either. But I am sick of painting. Counting the primer coats, I've now put 5.5 coats of paint on those walls. I can't paint anymore. I'm just burnt out on it. Besides, I don't think slapping coat after coat will actually solve the problem. The unevenness will just be ported to the next coat. And we need to get on with our lives here. I've been painting that room on and off for over a month now. I've never seen paint go on like that. So, it's either the fact it's red and there's some inherent mega difficulty in applying red to a wall (which we were warned about), or it's the primer. I thought it might be because it's the darkness that keeps coming through. They made up the primer to be a very dark grey, almost an off-black. And that's the dark that keeps coming up. So, without bothering to research it in the slightest, I've decided to jump to a conclusion and blame Home Depot. Yup, they blow chunks. I went looking for help and they gave me too dark a primer, probably in some scheme to get me to buy more paint. Oh, they're insidious like that. An evil mega-corp that only wants more of my money. Greedy bastards... Yessirrie, not my fault in the slightest. You suck HD. posted by Evil Wayne | 10:56 PM 0 comments Saturday, July 24, 2004 The Horrible Bees Actually, they're yellow jackets, but bees make the title seem more like a children's book. Which this isn't so maybe I should change that back? But that would mean deleting this opening paragraph, because it wouldn't make any sense now, and I'm attempting to bulk up my entries even when there isn't anything to write. So, originally, there many a yellow jacket nests clustered with the open light above the front door. When they took it down during the construction, I got a good look and a few pics. 
Well, it appears they didn't leave. Instead they setup house in the tree in the front yard, right on a branch close to the driveway. I wish I had gotten a before image, because it was so much like a cartoon beehive. You know, one hanging from a branch, looking like a ribbed vase? It was grey and about the size of a softball, in fact, if Tine hadn't pointed it out, I probably never would have seen it as it blended in very well. So, being so close to the driveway and right where the mower would go was a recipe for disaster. So I finally decided to take them out Friday night. I got that hyper-spray stuff for hitting a nest like 20 yards away. I stood about 4 feet away and it just about annihilated the next. Tore the lower half right off. Which wasn't all that good, because it didn't kill a lot of them right away. I kept dousing the remains with the can but I could hear them buzzing around. Then I started to feel them whipping around my legs and face. I didn't bother to wait to get stung and ran like a little girl for the house. As I slammed screen shut, I looked back and two of them crashed into the glass and fell to the ground, writhing in death throws. Oh they were pissed. The next day, I went out and got a good look at the carnage. Dead yellow jackets everywhere, three of them made it to the door and died on the stoop. But the best part was the remaining half of the nest in the tree. The spray had sheered off the bottom of the nest and exposed the midsection. 
Those caught in the middle must have died instantly, because they were frozen in death still working around. It was like a cross-section diorama. There were yellow jackets clearly working and moving about. Pupa in various stages of development and eggs in their honeycombs awaiting birth. It was like a science lesson. Right now it's still there, and I have to cut it down when I get around to it (it's currently # 23 on my To Do List), but part of me wants to save it in some capacity. I mean, can I put it in a can of clear shellac? I wonder if there's some spray that would go on clear and preserve the whole thing? Who am I kidding? I'll be lucky if it actually gets cut down. That baby will probably be there until next summer. Or beyond. posted by Evil Wayne | 3:55 PM 0 comments Friday, July 23, 2004 Life Without Jill-Pill So it's been a month since JP left here. Of course, most of my life hasn't changed all that much. There is a level of things, through the rest of the week, that are pretty much the same as they've always been. But work is different. It feels empty. It's how no one says good morning. Or come into my cube to tell me how bad traffic was on route 9 or something. I don't have an fluctuating stream of interruptions about YKW fucking up this or that. Her anger clearly visible, yet unwilling to actually say something. She doesn't relate how they'll blame her for this, yet again. She doesn't tell me she's had it with this place. Lunchtime still stands out. I force myself to sit downstairs, away from my desk, because I can't really take sitting at my desk or the computer much. It's too damned quite. The cafe is quite too, but it's open and different. Expected. I eat whatever I've brought. The other day it was a peanut butter sandwich and a banana. The JP Special. I bought a book from a small indie press and it's filled with short, short stories. I read one or two or a poem. Some good, some not. Diamonds turn to urine? I don't get it. I notice various publishing errors. I see some cherry mistakes. Simple indent problems here and there; they inverted the text on the spine. I have no one to complain to. I go outside and walk around the building sometimes. It's hot lately, but the wind is blowing down by the trees, so there's shade and a breeze. I think about how dorky I must look walking around by myself. I think about a story that's slowly been percolating in my head. It's about a woman who's going to kill her former boyfriend and herself atop a small building at the college I used to go to. I keep going over parts of it to see if I can avoid certain clichés. I think it would be better to tell the story from the guy's point of view and he doesn't see it coming to the last second. I have no one to tell this to. I keep walking. I come back inside and it's much cooler. I go into the cafe and I've got five, ten, twelve minutes before I really have to be back at my desk. Sometimes I sit back down at the same table and flip through the book. I feel like a bigger dork coming back inside and sitting down for eight minutes. Sometimes I just go back up. I get back to my desk and routine kicks back in. I get tea, I get working. I don't get interrupted with more question about galleys, pages or mechanicals. I burn through the next few hours as always. I surf the internet when I'm too bored. I turn around to check, but there's nobody in that cube. I don't really interact with anyone else as much. Maybe Rebecca. I see some of the interviewees. Here how they were going to offer someone the job, but she'd rather work in Cambridge for another company. I think that speaks volumes. I hear they have hired someone. I wonder how it will be to have someone else in that office again. Right behind me again. I have mixed feelings about it. 5:30, 5:40 or 5-something comes and I go home. Everything begins to return to normal a normal routine. Monday, the whole thing turns over again. posted by Evil Wayne | 4:59 PM 0 comments Tuesday, July 20, 2004 Guilty Pleasure Mutherfucker....has anyone heard that song by Jem [1], They? It's the one with a chorus of I'm sorry, so sorry and lots of slow bomp-bompa, bomp-bompa. Well it was one of iTunes' free downloads a week or two ago. I can't stop listening to the damn thing now. It's insidious how much I seem to be enjoying this pop-tune garbage. I really not so sure I should even post this... What the hell is wrong with me?!? [1] And isn't that a cartoon? Something bullshit about a rocker by day and superhero or crime fighter by night? I mean, if you're going to form a band, might you want to avoid looking stupid like that? posted by Evil Wayne | 5:21 PM 0 comments Tuesday, July 13, 2004 Not Surprised  How evil are you? 0 comments Saturday, July 10, 2004 Hold Over I got so much shit to catch up on, and I just don't feel like doing it now. Instead, I found this useless garbage to keep you entertained:  Which Nigerian spammer are You? posted by Evil Wayne | 2:12 PM 0 comments |
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