— SPEAK last night was low-key, relaxed, and fun. Theme was “steam”. Walt brought a train with him for a prop, to my great surprise.

Next topic, July 13: “circus.” I should get a copy of “Funky Clown Town.” Anyone got one?

— Waiting, now, to find out when the surgery will be tomorrow. I figure in the AM, but whether I need to be there for 5:30 AM or 9:30 AM is a big deal, in my eyes.

ETA: The Official Start Time for the Surgery is an arrival time of 5:50 AM. Doh!

— The surgery will take about four hours. Barring complications, I’ll certainly be home by tomorrow night. DO NOT CALL ME, I am looking forward to the Vicodin and intend to ride that monkey for all it’s worth.

— I expect to be unable to visit the upstairs and therefore the computer for a couple of days. Assume I’m alright unless you receive other information.

Now then:

— Obligatory Post 9/11 Statement of Love and Affection: In case something happens, know that I love you and have deep affection for you all…with the possible exception of you over there.

— Obligatory Post Terri Schiavo Statement: Jeez, let me go if there’s no hope, k? And by no hope, I mean the majority of intelligent doctors agree there’s no hope, not some looney thinks there’s a slim chance.

— Obligatory George W. Bush Is A Douchebag Statement: George W. Bush is a douchebag.

I might chime in again later if something interesting happens. If not, see you on the other side. (Of the surgery, you morbid bastards! The surgery!)

It is fascinating to me
that dead Indians scare people more
than all the ones
who are still alive
and really, really pissed off.

trying to sleep again and i’m gonna do it i promise i am i am

not even gonna finish this poem

or this thought

or this post

i’m gonna sleep until i wake up in the morning

and never even dream about the things

i’ve left incomplete

i promise i will sleep without thinking

about anything except sleep

for hours and hours

all the way to dawn and beyond

Considering that I slept last night, I am damn tired today…

I’m in the process of buttoning down assignments and such before I disappear into the Vicodin sunset. (Mmmm…Vicodin…) Lots to do, but at the same time I’m weirdly detached from the prospect of coming back to work.

In general, I like my job; there are times I love it. But lately, I’ve been so…bored. Not in the “God, this is the worst and most inane job in the world” sense; it’s more a case of not being surprised by much anymore. It’s hard to maintain my sense of wonder at the mysteries of human behavior when there are so few here.

That may sound a little supercilious, and I don’t mean it to be. I just mean that given predictable situations (poor management, cultural monotony, interpersonal conflicts based on all the traditional sources of office politics — you get the picture), you can pretty much guess how the players will respond. And of course, it leads into you giving much the same response every time. You stop listening. And that’s wrong.

I love listening to people. At poetry readings, I close my eyes and listen to pretty much everyone (needless to say, I’m not one of those who is impressed by good blocking). Granted, not every poem is worth listening to, but I like to think that every person is. I’m not perfect at it; I sometimes zone or snark out on a given piece; but it’s what I strive for.

It gets entirely too tiring at times to fell like you don’t have to listen. To believe, rightly or wrongly, that you’ve heard it all is to force yourself into a constantly reactive mode. If you are not listening, you must be talking or preparing to talk.

Maybe three weeks away will be good for me. Maybe I’ll come back ready to listen once again.

Thrill to the unprecedented spectacle of Tony Brown attempting to go to bed before 11 PM and sleep through the night!

If I make it, it will be the first time in a long time I’ve had an uninterrupted night of sleep.

I’m not taking Seroquel — we’re going natural for this one.

If I get up in the middle of the night, I promise to post here when I get up.

Please — place your bets! In the comments section, identify the time YOU think I’ll be awake in the middle of the night, or if I’ll make it through to 6:30 AM.

The winner (closest in absolute minutes to the time I log on) wins nothing but the admiration of a doting populace. It ain’t much, but it’s something.

Fire when ready.

ETA:
I was awake at 5:43. Close enough to a full night’s sleep! You folks who predicted I would sleep the whole night win, as do I. 😀

I’m sure it was the lullaby that did it, Ms. J. 😉

The late Ken Hunt and I argued on more than one occasion about which of us had the bigger unrequited crush on Carrie Brownstein.

I think we declared it a draw.

My love has only increased with this latest album. And I’m increasingly infatuated with Janet Weiss, too.

I’m not quite sure why I don’t feel the same about Corin Tucker. She’s more like a sister to me.

Goddamn. I really believe this is the best rock band in America right now.

I went out shopping this afternoon and purchased, among other things:

— the new Ani
— the new Sleater Kinney
— the most recent Mountain Goats

I also bought jeans that fit in what I think is my new size — two sizes down from the old one. Gulp.

I shall be well dressed, happily listening and school working later tonight.

Just got the mail.

There is an ad in Utne Reader this month for a school that is offering an online course in animal massage.

My friends, the floor is yours. You may begin at any time.

— all systems go. surgery next Friday, time TBD.

— i’ll be under for around 4 hours.

— i’ll be pretty much incapacitated for a few days after.

— i’ll be unable to climb stairs for a couple of days, so i’ll likely be out of contact here.

— i’ll be out of work for most likely three weeks.

— i’ll be FINE. no need for cookies, flowers, letters, cards, etc. REALLY.

— i’m not nervous.

— this surgery is for a number of minor things, none are life threatening.

— the combination of several procedures is what’s making for a little longer than usual recovery.

— no, i don’t want to share what’s going on.

*These responses predicated on the barrage of well-meaning and deeply annoying questions I’m getting at work. I trust all y’all to be more sensitive. 🙂

I forget sometimes that this is a public diary, the whole notion of which is silly.

In general, I’m not a person who needs a lot of sympathy from a lot of people.

If I know you and you want to offer it, that’s cool. There are a few of you — a very few — who I want advice and care from, and you know who you are.

But in general, I’m pretty self sufficient — or at least, numb to the human touch of those I have not let in.

I sometimes let those who think they know me down. I’m sorry for that.

As I’ve gotten older, I realize just what a dysfunctional bastard I can be. Perhaps I am letting down the mask a little to let others see it. This is at once honorable and detestable.

But, as the scorpion said to the frog, it’s my nature.