when i'm driving free, the world's my home... when i'm mobile
06.30.04 @ 9:32 p.m.
Even though I'm sleepy now and mildly annoyed (but then, I'm always mildly annoyed around my parents which has made me a little bitchy, mostly because what I see as playful banter or mild sarcasm always ends up giving offense), I am pretty damn determined to make this an upbeat entry.
So, first the fantastic news:
I gots me a car. No license, but a car to learn on. I just got back from some driving practice. My dad is driving me fucking insane by wanting to fuss over it as badly as he did over his pickup, which makes it five million times worse because I'm feeling like my territory is being invaded.
There are pros to my job, even though I bitch about it. Still, it makes me a little uncomfortable. See, the thing is that I'm supposed to get two 15 minute breaks and a half hour lunch. Uhh. Lessee. Half hour this morning for break. Hour and a half for lunch because my bosses got into a conversation with the supervisor of the grounds crew. Then another half hour this afternoon. I cannot believe I feel guilty, especially since I took five minutes or more this afternoon to lie on the floor I had just vacuumed and listen to music. And lately the work I've been given hasn't been strenuous. I ran off with the keys to the school today AND I know the alarm code. So trusting of them, ha ha. And I get paid pretty well. I get $8 an hour for hours I don't work. Maybe I am a snob. Mostly I think this because I have a certain degree of contempt for my bosses. But maybe I'm right and they are just kind of jerks. (Well, you just know that I think I'm right and they're stupid. Especially John, who tries to bait me into reacting... I don't know what he wants. I think he suspects I have no sense of humor, but then, he was not present when I choked on my drinking and ended up laughing until my eyes watered when I listened to Rick Emerson this morning.)
Other very good news: I finally, FINALLY, got the special issue of Q about the Who from some time ago. It's great. I am amused by the picture of Roger Daltrey holding a giant penis with a caption about "cock rock". V. amusing.
The only thing that's bothering me is that I can't really come to a final decision on what to name this little puppy:
I'm torn between thinking I should just leave him as Bob Dylan and call him "Dylan." Other times I think I should name him Pete Townshend like I said I did yesterday. I know I'm prone to showy obsession and I don't want to be overdoing it. On the other hand, this is a name of an animal that will likely be my companion. I want it to be something important to me. The third consideration is that it has to be a "dog" name to me. "Billy" was a dog name. "Bobby" is not. Freddie might be. Pete might be. Keith... I tried, but it didn't suit him too well. Keith Moon would just be an excellent name for a dog, fun and a little silly. I don't want to be too intense about it. Shit, shit. I can maybe stray from the litter theme and give him an album title name or a song name, but there is a theme. Jack White? I don't know why this has to be so frustrating to me, but something makes me slightly uncomfortable about calling him Pete Townshend, mainly the obsession angle.
I need to come to some kind of conclusion, or I'll just end up confusing the boy. I also need to get off my ass and call Fuckwit Landlord soon.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
