I achieved mediocrity.

I got my apartment mostly clean. And then gave up. I mopped the floor and everything. Still need to vacuum, though, and clean the windowsills. That will have to wait until next weekend when I get back from the east coast (fuck you!). I still have some papers and CDs to file, too. I did finally manage to mount the window shade in my bedroom. That's right, the one I bought almost a year ago.

Another beautiful day gone by where I spent it inside. By the time I decided to give up cleaning, I was too down-hearted to go out and do anything. I thought about a bike ride, but just felt it would be too crowded. Not that I wanted to insulate myself from others, but I couldn't think of anywhere I'd want to ride that wouldn't be crowded with pedestrian traffic.

I ended up starting to build one of the Lego sets I bought last year. The two foot long Y-wing. I missed Lego. When I was a kid I'd spend hours building Lego. Friends came and went (and still do) but Lego is there for me. Even in elementary school, I remember sitting in my room late at night, listening to oldies with one lamp on in the corner, building.

My parents wouldn't let me have any regular Lego until I turned four, and on my fourth birthday Parvin brought me this big (or so it seemed) set with tons of different pieces to make a million different models. It had a Lego racoon person too, with a beer stein. Odd.

I remember the construction set I had, which I also built and rebuilt.

I remember the first space Lego set I got when I was five. The first theme-specific set I had. I memorized the assembly instructions by taking it apart and putting it back together so many times.

I remember Jim Eckland had a whole town set up in his basement and we all had our own characters. I think they all drove Lego Lamborghinis and carried guns.

I remember Paul gave us a whole ton of old Lego. There were so many wings! You have to understand, space Lego was all I wanted as a kid, and to make your own spaceships you needed *wings*. Well, I did anyway. And now I could make a fleet of them!

I remember I was ten or so when there was a big Lego build-off at the mall. Pretty fucking cool.

I remember my parents lying about what they got me for Christmas because I guessed which Lego set it was.

In the last five years I've put in a lot of time and money just for Star Wars Lego. And I find it worth it. I know I'll be glad I have those sets in five, ten years. When I have kids. It's just a way to hold onto my youth, I guess. Or nostalgia for it. And so I spent a fair amount of time this evening indulging my nostalgia and letting my isolation continue.

In my four nights in NJ/NY, I'm meeting friends for three of them. I kind of feel like I'm taking advantage of my family for lodging, but then I suppose I'd get bored with them anyway after that much time. Parvin did say she was going to make Bogoli Polo for me, and I can meet some people for lunch, I suppose. Still, it'll be good to see Laura, Sal, and Mina again. Worth ditching the relatives for. And it'll be good just get away from Chicago. Leave all my worries behind me. Although I've got business to conduct via phone tomorrow.

I have to get up in less than five hours to go to the airport. Fuck.

Mark Anderson is a good role model

This excerpt refers back to the post "Dogs, guns, girls, and orthodontics" from a few days ago.

Mark Anderson, from All the Power: Revolution Without Illusion:

I also don't believe that technology, as such, is the enemy. Whether humans are capable of using the tools of this modern era responsibly remains to be seen. Still, no more ludicrous denial of human possibility could be imagined than to assume that we cannot. I refuse to believe that people are so feeble.

Well said.

My exciting life: Wonder Dogs and self-disgust.

The house is looking pretty clean. I spent an hour yesterday scrubbing countertops and stovetop in the kitchen. Pretty much a table and couch to clean off, then a lot of dusting, wiping, vacuuming. I had to go get more cleaning supplies last night. I just hope my vacuum filter makes it through.

This is the first time in months that I blacked out my nails. Along with the freshly shorn head, I'm sure this will enable me to squeek through the heightened airport security tomorrow morning. I have to get up at 3:30 or 4 am anyway just to make sure I make it to my 8am flight on time.

I tried to get dinner at Mirani's last night, but they were closed by 9pm for some reason. I had fish and chips with a side o' Guinness at the Celtic Knot instead. Melt in your mouth goodness, all of it.

Vikki came by WNUR last night, so I didn't do the show alone. It made the night better, for sure. I remember this little kid with green hair and ripped up mismatched plaid suit I met four and a half years ago, and she's really grown into herself, so good for her.

I feel old.

I was reading some poetry at dinner:

"Bullet the Wonder Dog Gets a Few Things Off His Chest" by Ron Koertge

I was good enough to knock down a few
desperados and bushwhackers and then keep
them occupied until Roy finished his song.
But Trigger was the marquee beast.
He was gold, El Dorado on the hoof, the blonde
bombshell. American through and through.

Man's best friend? Don't kid yourself. When
we were working, I had to eat Trigger's dust
or ride in the Jeep with dopey Pat Butrum.
And when we weren't working, I was bored.

So I sidled up to a script girl who was
learning Spanish and listened along. My plan
was this: next time a couple of banditos
confronted the impeccable Roy, I'd burst
in before the fisticuffs with Bajer esas
pistolas, y escuchen a la razon.

But the words wouldn't come out. They
were right there on the tip of my long,
red tongue. I howled in frustration and
ruined the shot.

"Somebody," the director said, "get that
mutt out of here." And somebody did, a DGA
trainee with a script in her purse and a
bad attitude.

It's times like those I thought of my mother,
how usually she lay down while my brothers
and I fought for a nipple. But occasionally
she stoodlike she was posing for a she-wolf
postcard. Instead of Romulus, I was the one
tall and strong enough to reach a teat.

"You'll go far," she said to me in Dogtalk.
"But there's also heartbreak and few, if any,
will know the real you."

Copyright violation from Free Lunch no. 35.

I find myself very easily tempted to actions I know will have negative consequences for all involved. Things I would not be proud of doing even were they consequence-free. I do not know why this is. I'm disgusted with myself even though I know I'll give in to the temptations should the opportunity arise.

I think my mailman is either lazy or an idiot. I get no mail all week, then yesterday my box is crammed full of stuff, some of it postmarked two weeks ago. *LIKE MY DENTAL LICENSE RENEWAL.* Some of it was put into other boxes as well, I think, despite my name and apartment number being on my box. Fuckin' A. No Idea says that Chicago is a black hole for packages and I can believe it.

Also, according to UPS, they never picked up my MP3 player from buy.com, and buy won't look into it until the entire expected shipping time has elapsed. Which means Tuesday morning I can get on and bitch to them about it. Fuckers. I'm never buying anything from there again.