Scary Face-u

So this was on CNN's front page for a while on the day that BTK guy got put away. How fucking creepy is this? This weekend is going pretty good so far, after a pretty stressed-out lousy week. I had my first non-California roll sushi last night at my boss's house and then spent some time at a bar with the friends. Then I had brunch with the friends this morning at this place in Carroll Gardens called Banania, which was, you know, pretty good. On the way home I ran into Sam Frizzank, who told me he'd invited me to a party over at his place a block away from mine (his e-mail had gotten routed to my HotMail junk folder), so I think I'll do that after I get back from yet another work-related BBQ that I'm leaving for in just a second. The best part, though, is that the fucking kitten is finally gone. "Big Kitty" is obviously a lot more relaxed already. We had what Tom calls a nice long "love-up" this morning, with the result that my eyes and nose were streaming all day. That's right. Me and kitty.

I wanted to paint the living room this afternoon -- I even traded in the white semi-gloss I'd bought last week at Pintchik for a white eggshell plus primer at the urging of my co-workers -- but I was so beat after carrying it over from Flatbush and doing the laundry that I think maybe I'll just do it tomorrow.

Sometimes when I'm taking a leak at work and just sort of staring down into the urinal I kind of zone out a little, thinking about some problem I'm working on or whatever, and when I snap back to reality I have this millisecond fear that I've pissing into the wrong thing. Like, pissing into a wastebasket or something.

Update: Now it's Tuesday -- I meant to finish this sooner. Holy shit, though! I just finished my first full run around Prospect Park. 3.7 miles or some shit, and no stopping, not even on that widowmaker of a hill at the end. I just sort of kept on goin', and I was sort of thinking, "well, I'm just gonna keep on goin'." And I did. It didn't even feel like anything, just like a normal run. The thing is, though, the burrito I'd eaten for lunch was sort of, shall we say, propelling me along. So when, in the shower, I reached for my customary washcloth general, John Ass-cloth II (selected, like John Ass-cloth I, from an ignominious cardboard box in the back of the Yale merch place on that main street in New Haven), I knew there'd be some terror in the tumbleweeds. And there was. And I couldn't, shockingly enough, seem to get clean with the washcloth. So eventually I had to just sit down on the toilet and have what my co-workers refer to as an "assplosion," which took some time. But now I'm feeling good, and I'm making some pasta.

At The Enchilada today, I bought a bottle of that really good spicy habanero hot-sauce, El Yucateca, to keep at my desk for when I buy lunch there. That shit is hot, brah.

I ended up going to Sam's party, where this girl filled me in on what happens in season 2 of Carnivale. It's probably not coming out on DVD, right? I don't think so.

So I did paint on Sunday, and it took a real long time -- don't know how Mer managed to do the whole room (plus trim) in a single afternoon. I've still got the trim around the window left to do, which looks to be at least an hour and change if I use the primer. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow. Then Tombone called and he and I and some assorted others went to go see The 40-Year-Old Virgin, which was totally delightful -- sweet-natured, very funny, very accurate -- they certain captured the "virgin" mindset as I recall it having been a 21-year-old virgin. I was really really sore and stiff on Monday and this morning, but the room looks good. I accidentally broke the glass plate on this Picasso print that I kind of liked as I was rehanging it, but, you know, it happens. The problem is, it broke into two big sharp pieces, kind of too big to just throw away.

On Monday I went to go see Jaws at Bryant Park with my friend Karen from work. We picked up a couple of cheap bottles of wine and met her roommate and friends right smack in front of the screen where they'd secured like 10 square feet of precious blanket real estate and provided some crackers and cheeses. It was great; the weather was great, Bryant Park is just great, right in the middle of all those tall buildings. I'd forgotten how gory that movie is -- that kid on the raft basically explodes when "Jaws" gets him.

So it's been good.