I Love Watermelon

I have pimped out all of my skills on Craigslist, with the frail hope of earning a dollar here and there giving private lessons. If there's something you want to learn that I don't know, and that you are willing to pay for, tell me. I will learn it and teach it to you.

Went to Barnes and Noble's again today, read a bunch of books that failed to make an impression on me. My sentimental half screams that this is because I'm still heartbroken from The Time Traveler's Wife, but I punished it with a Civil War book. Next time it'll keep its fat mouth shut.

Did some writing today - got well on my way into a song that started out about Tina, but tragically lacked a necessary depressing quality, and thus slowly transformed into a love song for Chun. I am now frantically juggling Tina between a slow blues, and an open window.

Meanwhile, Mario has come out with a new single, mourning his love for Iris, who is unfortunately a willing captive of a better man. The song is nearly complete, lacking only lyrics, but they will undoubtedly come around soon and be somewhere high on the scale from 1 to Pathetic.

Michelle asked me to tuck her in today. I considered it for a brief moment and then laughed in her face, a move which somehow doesn't hold the same element of surprise as it used to.

Michelle has a fat friend, who conveniently stores all self-consciousness for her condition in Michelle. Whenever Mom says "hey Michelle, where's fatty?" or Dad asks "where's Piglet?," Michelle inexplicably gets as offended as if it were her own liposuction-filled future they're talking about. Being intrinsically mild-mannered and considerate, I generally restrain my witty insults, and if anything, try to turn the conversation to safer and less fertile ground - such as how fat people contribute to society. By the way, has anyone found the answer to this one yet?

Breaking News

Saw In Bruges yesterday. It's quite the menagerie of plot devices: There's a 30-year-old retarded child played by Colin Farrell, a midget, a global midget war between white midgets and black Vietnamese midgets, a priest who can't stop bullets, a gun-toting Lord Voldemort, a league of principled hitmen, and a handful of dead children. Ironically there's very little plot other than a parade of the aforementioned items, and some witty dialogue. It was enough to keep me entertained, as I also had some popcorn, but my dad didn't ration his portion well and began whining less than half way through the movie. The ending, SPOILER ALERT, is one of those unsatisfying "Everyone died. Wait did they? I think I saw an arm move! Credits roll, and now we'll never know."

Mom offered me to help her cook dinner today, and I suddenly realized how much I missed grandma, so Mario, my sister and I visited her for dinner. We visited, but karma caught up to me, and I ended up having to help grandma fix her Cablevision after a storm knocked out the electric power. This included some quality time on the phone with Liz from Cablevision Customer Service. She must have been following a script, because the first words I heard from Liz were long-winded flaccid assurances about how anxious she was to be of help to me. Then she made me do all sorts of ritual dances around the TV and Cablevision box, and read her the codes from all the barcode stickers in the room. Despite Liz's help, I eventually managed to figure out where the DVD player's power button was.

On another note, a new song was born today, to commemorate yesterday's failed hang-out with Natasha. She was to go on a morning hike with her parents, and then call me so we could decide what we were doing. I ended up calling her at 7PM, and she blew me off. I cried a little from loneliness, and held a short funeral service for the $1.50 she cost me in text messages. When I woke up this morning with red-rimmed eyes, I decided to devote a song to yesterday's tragedy. The song's done, but I haven't recorded the vocals yet so it'll probably be up tomorrow. Meanwhile, Mario and I decided to write some more songs about other girls, so Anna, Lucy, Tina, watch out, our lyrics are rarely completely complimentary.