Late night. Practice, baking, work, in reverse order. Why didn't I do more during the day? I seem to remember having some empty time during which I was just sitting there thinking about socks. Or food. It didn't really help me do anything. I'm pretty familiar with how socks work in the first place, and it took me hours to finally leave the house and get food. The only food in the house right now are incomprehensibly sugary nanaimo bars. Yes, I make nanaimo bars. I like them, and I've got a recipe that works. What the fuck are nanaimo bars? Well, they're from nanaimo or something, one of the big towns on Vancouver Island. Supposedly they were invented there, but anecdotal evidence seems to indicate that they were originally called "chocolate fridge bars" and that the recipe appeared in a mainland newspaper. Actually, that's a much better description. Chocolate fridge bars. There's nothing inherently nanaimo-y about them. There's no fish, maple syrup, moose, rain, trees, or j-walkers involved. (Victoria, it has to be said, has a plague of jay walkers with a communal death-wish.) There IS, however, powdered sugar, vanilla pudding / custard mix, coconut, graham cracker crumbs and nuts involved, and that's before you add any chocolate. Nanaimo bars kick ass, is all I'm saying. And I've got something like 25 in the kitchen right now. But I'm not going to eat them all because I'm trying to preserve my record elapsed-time-between-vomits.

Christ I'm tired of all the financial obligations I have to carry. The one reason having a bank account is worth shit is because you can just hand your account / credit card number to the phone people, electric people, and the other phone people and tell them to grab however much cash they want out of your account anytime. The emotional energy involved in actually sending a check to all these different agencies is getting me down. Plus, I'm in dutch with Amex. I'll be out of it before February I figure, but in the meantime I'm still feeling backround anxiety. No one likes imagining people angrily expecting their money. It's a dumb work thing where working at this company actually wound up costing me a bunch of money one month and I didn't file my expense reports due to some confusion about huge charges. Geez, it makes me feel dizzy just thinking about talking about it. I don't want to explain this to bob the expense report processor.

Meantime, I'm supposed to be getting my act together so I can leave for Oakland in a couple days, and yet I'm barely hanging on to washing clothes, getting food, and doing enough work to keep people happy. I haven't packed anything. I haven't even got a list of crap I should take with me. Worst comes to worst, I could just take NOTHING, and hit the mall when I get there. Buy 3 sets of cheap, boring clothes and wear em twice, doing whatever it is I'm going to do. Oh yeah, I guess I'd need one trendy outfit - gotta hit the DNA lounge on d:Code night. That, I guess, would be the night where the club owner gets to have music that he doesn't hate. Yeah, he spent a ton of money remodeling the club and had to deal with uncountable heaps of bullshit so he could have his own club, then it turns out you have to play gimpy, clone-pleasing house music 90% of the time or you will hemorrhage money and not have a club very quickly. It is annoyingly consistent with the concept behind movies like "Oh god you devil" and whatever that stupid devil's bargain comedy was that came out just recently. You know, you sell your soul to get what you want and it turns out you had to give up what was REALLY important to you. Or no wait, you sell your soul to get something, and it turns out that the reality of having it is guttingly empty in an ironic way. So hmm, maybe I should learn something from that. The things I pursue - what might I lose to them? Anything worth agonizing over? Not that I can think of right now. Not in a personal moral inventory-ing mindset right now. I'd much rather just fall off this chair and sleep on my shoes.

Your shirt is stained when you wear your heart on your sleeve, so you wash it off and pretend that it was never there. -- Faith No More, _The_Perfect_Crime_ before it had the lyrics it has on the album

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