Divine Miscontent

It's Monday morning. I really don't need a reason to rant. The mere fact that it's Monday is reason enough. Frankly, Monday mornings make me so cranky I could rant forever about the colour of the butterfly that fluttered in through my office window. I'm partial to blue butterflies so god forbid a yellow butterfly venture anywhere into the periphery of my vision. I woke up this morning and decided that HAD to change. Yep, even if it killed me, this was going to be best goddamned week I've ever had. I was going to dig deep, very VERY deep, and pull out my confident, positive, go-getter, the-world-is-my-oyster attitude. I thought maybe, just maybe if for once I woke up early (instead of the rushed "I'm late!" Monday routine), had a 30 minute power session at the gym before work it might help reinforce my newly found invincibility and joi de vivre. Usually nothing short of a sudden fit of madness would make me think it would be a good idea to visit the gym...

Ok, I'm back. It helped. I still feel dazed and confused though. Maybe I just needed to eat something afterall.

I can't focus. But I'm not shaking. Yet. And I'm sure as hell not thinking. I can almost smell it. That sweet sweeeeeet taste of tar and nitric acid lightly tossed in a cauldrum and glued onto my lungs. Ahhhh. Why do i taunt myself so. Then the tea lady shows up with strong filter coffee. Sans milk, sans sugar, sans nothing. Just me, a black-ass coffee and one mother of a craving. I bet she can tell I'm about to scrape some wood shavings off my desk, roll up all my Post-Its and light up right here and now. Hey, don't look at me bitch...YOU brought me the bloody coffee. And we all know what black coffee does to a craving. You did it on purpose you f*$#%(* c*#$. I'll get you for this in the dark of the night when you and your brood are sleeping. I'll use nail clippers to dig out all your internal organs, you sorry excuse for a human. I swear I will. No, i'm not stressed. What? I'm not! But I will resist. I nearly fainted at the gym yesterday because ...

I'm 26 I think I'm weird Those who know me tend to agree I’m a dare devil You name it; I’ve done it or would do it I still keep a diary Even though its hardly ever updated I’ve thought of ending my life But I could never go through with it It would shatter my dad That is probably my only selfless thought I love sex with women Although I have never been in love with anyone I’ve only ever been in one relationship With a guy We hardly ever saw each other I lost my virginity at 19 To him Hated it So I abstained for another 2.5 years I’m a couch potato I’m pathologically unable to keep in touch But I still insist on getting pen pals They only last about 3 weeks 24 Hour Party is the worst (docu-)movie ever It just edges out Muholland Drive on suck-points I used to read a lot of novels And live in chat rooms Till I got a real job I’ve always been the best in all my math classes I have a Masters degree in Computer Science I’ll swap it for your MBA I’m Cameroonian I grew up in Europe an...

By the way, that 'next blog' button we all have on blogspot FUCKING SUCKS!!! There goes my not swearing resolution, but I can't help it when i try to be all nice and sweet and I just happen to walk right into the thickest pile of goat shit so early in the morning. I don't know if its just my bad luck or there's just oodles of crap floating around in blogspot but I can't remember the last time i clicked the 'next blog' button and got something worthwhile. Breath, Lynda, breath, don't wreck the beautiful positive energy you surrounded yourself with this morning. Thats better.

This is going to be quickie because I have tons of work to do and my New Week's resolution is to actually do something resembling work at work. If I lose my job my poor little bloggy will suffer and whither away like a rose budding in hell. Two things of note happened during this past long weekend (Friday was a hol) - Leaving out the usual partying and getting stoned part coz that's a regular weekend if you know anything about me: Saw this cute little movie called Pieces of April. It was a bit of a low budget looking flick which I thought was totally appropriate considering its 'poor neighbourhood' settings. Nothing stood out as brilliant apart from the familiar cast of Katie Holmes, the cute black kid from Finding Forrester and the big head guy from Men in Black or was it Independence Day? Anyhow, I thought it was rather nice little movie. Time well spent. Second thing is, I took my 19 year old kid bro and his 2 best mates out for dinner at a posh restaurant. The servi...

So there I was, once again on my usual crusade around cyber space, trying to submerge myself in 1's and 0's in another desperate attempt to escape the morbid pit of shit that is my life. On this fateful day, I happened to run full frontal into miss carrie's little blog explosion button. There are a lot of pointless time wasters masquerading as Blog Exposers out there. But after careful deliberation, I decided to submit my humble blog [to blog explosion ] , sit back, relax and watch the all the cyber junkies swarm in in their numbers to witness first hand my greatness and then promptly proceed to worship at the altar of Me. As soon as i got the heads up that my little bloggy had been accepted [in blog explosion ], I went in [to blog explosion ] to check how it was faring. I must say I was a little gob smacked to say the least when i tracked down Bloggy [on blog explosion ] and was met with these three little words: "contains partial profanity". Would you believe....

Oh joy. It's starting to happen. The pressure is really beginning to build up now. I'm still young enough to get away with it, but just barely. I must have some time-bomb hanging from my neck that is visible to everyone but me. And my time is dangerously close to running out. Tick tick tick. Aunt : So, don't you have a boyfriend yet? Me : Boy friend? Uh...no. You asked me on Friday. Not much has changed since then. Aunt : *sigh*. I know this guy who... Me : No thanks, really, that’s ok. It's just not one of my priorities at the moment [and could we please never have this conversation again. At least not until next week]. This little chitchat was followed by a brief shake of the head by my auntie dearest, spilling forth gallons of empathy, all without actually saying a word. I'm surrounded by people bursting out of their skins to remedy my "situation". I feel like i should be the main attraction of some freakshow where all the little kiddies come to watch m...

I think I'm losing sight of the original purpose of this blog. Its supposed to be the place where I hide in obscurity to bitch about how the dark invisible forces of the world are actively conspiring to ruin my life. I had a totally awesome weekend Suddenly the evil forces are on a break Suddenly I'm happy Deliriously, obscenely, make-me-puke happy I'm so god damn happy its making me paranoid I feel it. Today I'll slip on an a banana peeling and break my neck. I'll get run over by a kid on his skateboard and die a sudden freak death. Ohmygod! A vicious alien man-eater! Oh wait. Just a stray doggy. Why are you looking at me? Stop looking at me!! Are you still looking at me?!?!!! My happiness is making me depressed. Oh look, im depressed. I'm happy coz i'm depressed. Its my comfort zone. Its all i know how to be. Hmm. I guess the dark forces are back. Relief. All is well with the world.

Thats the question. I'm so envious of how easy it is to leave a permanent impression of your insight and superior intellect on those sites fortunate enough to have been HaloScanned. But whats the deal with that traceback link everyone has? Its always 0 and frankly just looks annoying. Hopefully thats an optional feature. My only niggling concern is: do your comments disappear if Halo shuts down? Where's the track record? How reliable are these guys? Oh well, this is hardly the cause of sleepless nights. But anything not to do real work. What have we got trapeizing across my desk? Are those ants??? Lets do an ant-race! Work? who, me? But then who will entertain the little ants?

It's a bitch being single. A royal pain in the ass. Last night - true, it was a weekday. but its alcohol. how can I say no? - I’m hanging out with my new friend Dibs at this bar. (Who by the way is soooo hot, but I could never tell her that, at least not in an "I dig you" way, coz on the one hand she is totally straight, on the other she's got a boyfriend, and on a third hand I kinda like having her as a friend). Yes, so we were at this funky bar leisurely contemplating the avant-garde decor...(um, ok well she was contemplating the decor, while I contemplated her - coz have I mentioned she's hot?)...when she moseyed off to get us some more coolers. Its alcohol, of course I'll have another one. Or two. Or five. I watch her walk away. I almost watch her walk away. This huge, butt-ugly, not-my-type-in-all-kinds-of-ways guy just appears from nowhere and inserts himself into my line of vision. I'm thinking: Hello, yes Hi, you are blocking my view of the eye c...

Its almost time to go home. I guess I'll just Blog the last 10 minutes away. I need to pinch myself to check if I'm really still alive. Lets define 'alive' shall we? If its breathing you mean...sure I guess I'm alive. Otherwise I'm probably as alive as dead wood, but even that has creepy crawlies all over it giving it a semblance of life. Somehow I made it through my boss' incessant mouth movements. He probably thought he was communicating but even though I could see lips moving, all I could hear was the clock ticking. Occasionally I'd sip on my glass of water, hide my yawn and nod knowingly. Yes sir! First thing in the morning I'll get on it. I will, as soon as I figure out what the fuck you were going on about. 5:30. Finally done with this long ass day. Is this the rest of my life? Fuckin hell.

I want a kid. But there are several reasons why I can't responsibly decide to have one: I'm not yet financially stable enough to care for a baby. For one, I'm still living with family I'm not in a stable or even remotely healthy long term relationship. I am known to exhibit murderous tendencies when rudely awoken at 3am Kids are universally known as Style Crampers. I'm in no way, shape or form prepared to surrender my independence, club hopping, party going, swearing, or weed smoking days. On the plus side I'm a sweet and loving person 10% of the time. Look. I said want a kid. You know, like how a kid wants a dog but won't feed it, take it to the vet or clean out the dog poop. I want a kid just for the good times: while he's cute smelling fresh and all smiles. So someone gimme a kid. I promise to love him some of the time. Let me know if you want to be my sperm donor.

Everyone seems to have a "100 things" list. That is, everyone except me. I feel so left out. Like I'm not part of the online bourgeoisie living at the cusp of the blogging cutting edge. Aw, but creating one is going to require sooo much brainpower. A HUNDRED things? Thats a truck load of things. Make that 2 trucks. But apparently 100 doesn't seem to cut it. No sirree... the new rage is now a 100+ thingies coz people just can't stop talking about themselves. Yes okay, I'm guilty too. Whatever. But anyway I'm going to start off with something shorter, something i've wanted to do forever. Drum roll please...... I'm going to spill my guts. Expose my entrails for the world to see. Thats right, I'm going to confess. Here goes: I confess that I love those Hanson kids. Could they be any cuter? Zac you sexy beast, you rock my world!! Even now i still catch myself humming to mmmbop.Yes i know ALL the words. What??? It was a catchy tune dammit! I confess...

Normally I wouldn't blog about a trip to the poop soup. But then again normally I wouldn't find myself holding on to the sink screaming "come out you piece of shit!". So fuck normally. Here's my trip to hell. Yesterday, as i was about to rummage through the fridge for anything that hadn't fermented, the urge to visit the shit pit kinda slapped me upside the head, or erm downside the butt. Now to most of us, going potty is routine - I've done this so many times before it’s as natural as sex. But there was nothing routine about last night. It was a strong urge, the kind that hits you out of the blue but hits you so hard you drop everything you are doing and run clenching your butt muscles, tossing aside everything in your wake just so you don't have an unfortunate accident on your lovely spring-scented rug. I settled down onto the ceramic rim (the seat had previously fallen off) looking forward to that familiar feeling of relief once the act is done. The...