i <3 ctrl+Z
for over the past six years, a lot of random people have called my cellphone number looking for people that aren’t me. i’m not sure why this is, maybe i just have one of those numbers that are easy to dial on accident or perhaps some ‘lines’ are ‘crossed’ somewhere.
anyway, i got a text message from yet another mystery number and it went like this:
- unknown texter: hey what’s going on
ivan: (what do i say?! what do i say?!) i…i just found out i was adopted…
UT: ha oo i’m sryy who is this
ivan: i’ve had this phone number for six years. who do YOU think this is?
UT: ha i think i got the wrong number haha is this matt
ivan: (mental note: drop punctuation, dumb down language) yeah it is :) sup dawg
UT: haha r u sureee
ivan: fo sho girl how you doin
UT: haha i’m good but i think ur lieing boyyy
ivan: wut makes u say that
UT: haha cuz aha for re what’s ur name or r u atleast a guy haha
ivan: m dawg y u dun believe me (i hope ‘matt’ calls himself ‘m dawg’)
UT: haha r u sexay
ivan: baby girl u of all ppl should no the answer to that (erk)
UT: hahaha my bad babe
ONE HOUR LATER…
- UT: haha who is thussss
ivan: didn’t we already go thru this
UT: haha no cuz ur lieing
ivan: y do u say that
UT: haha cuz u would talk more
ivan: im talking now arent i (am i?)
UT: do u have a afacebook
ivan: yeah just search my name and make sure to include my middle initial j
UT: haha saweet okay how old ru
ivan: (i can’t believe that worked) same age u r
UT: ha how olds that
ivan: ur around 19 20 arent u (educated guess)
UT: lol ya creeepay!! how old r u
ivan: (wow! it worked again!) i told u already same age
and that’s the last i’ve heard of her (him?!) since.
so i had another vivid anxiety dream last night, courtesy of my weekly night terror pill.
i was in a posh hotel in Hong Kong and they were hosting some sort of Olympic swimming competition in Victoria Harbour nearby when all of a sudden, a group of player haters began hunting down and shooting all the guests. i remember one part where a large group of us huddled in an elevator bank, frantically pushing the ‘down’ button. suddenly, all the elevator doors slid open at once and the men waiting inside calmly opened fire on the crowd as i ran.
i actually spent most of the night running through halls, down stairwells, up staircases, across rooms, past corpses, until i leapt out of a window and into the murky ocean below. after recovering from my plunge, i began swimming furiously but got hopelessly tangled in the nets used to keep wildlife from interfering with the Olympic Games and remained there until they captured me. then, after hauling me back indoors, they forced me into a bathroom and executed me.
what a crappy dream, eh?
i bumped into a friend who works at Cook County Hospital on the street yesterday and she mentioned that someone came in recently with ten gunshot wounds. TEN. fortunately, the bullets were all in his extremities (mostly arms and legs with a few in his butt) so the doctors were able to dig them all out and patch him up so he could live to die another day.
the thing is, the same guy was in the emergency room just the week before, also with gunshot wounds.
someone needs to make new friends. or move to Alaska.
oh, and my website is ten years old today.
whew. everything is okay. my white blood cell counts have gone up but are still within normal range. so i ate a goat head taco to celebrate. mmm mmmm! so good.
tomorrow. tomorrow’s a big day. tomorrow’s a big day because i go in for a blood test. tomorrow’s a big day because i go in for a blood test to see how my body’s holding up. tomorrow’s a big day because i go in for a blood test to see how my body’s holding up after more than three weeks of not taking my cancer medication. tomorrow’s a big day.
this has REALLY been bugging me for a while now but why has nobody tried to market the ‘Suck Cut’ from Wayne’s World yet? everybody hates loose hair on their shoulders after a haircut. and the product is basically just a vacuum cleaner hooked up to a pair of clippers so it doesn’t seem like it’d be terribly expensive to produce. the ‘Suck Cut’ seems like such a no-brainer, don’t you think?
edit: apparently it has been done
hi, everyone. i just woke up from a 19 hour nap. i don’t think i’ve ever slept 19 hours before. i feel like i lost an entire day without any real rest to show for it. very disorienting, to say the least. bleh.
have you ever sat in the very first row of coach seats on a 747? it sucks. sure, they lure you into choosing the seat by putting it in an emergency exit row. but what they don’t tell you is that the emergency door extends outward directly into the window seat’s leg room and the storage bin directly overhead is not for passenger use, forcing you to stow your luggage several rows behind you. then, to top it all off, there’s a flight attendant’s seat in front of you reserved for a greasy-haired man in an ill-fitting uniform so he can stare right through you with those cold, dead, unseeing eyes. oh, and did they mention that your fellow passengers will congregate in the space directly in front of you to loudly chat, do inappropriate stretches, and wait for the washroom?
but hey, at least there’s an emergency exit nearby.
after a disappointingly short layover in 2006, i’ve finally made it out of the airport and out into Amsterdam itself. first impression: wonderful. despite only being there for seven hours or so and in a relatively specific part of the city, i’d have to conclude that i rather enjoyed my time there and would definitely like to pay a few return visits. it seems that Amsterdam is like garlic seasoning salt; a single taste could have you hooked for life. mmm…
the only aspect of Amsterdam i found semi-objectionable was the Dutch language. though ranked firmly behind Thai and Min Nan (aka Taiwanese) in terms of sheer ugliness, Dutch speakers sounds like they’ve got guinea pigs clawing up their throats. for instance, when i asked someone where to find deep-fried horse sausages, he directed me to a nearby restaurant but instead of giving me its name, he mimicked the sound of badgers raping each other.