Playing chess

I discovered how to play chess tonight with a beer, a snickers, and a half empty pack of cigarettes.  Here's how it goes:

The chessboard consists of the flat area of my desk next to my laptop.  First, unintentionally arrange the snickers so that it occupies the place closest to the laptop.  Then take a drink of the beer and put it down next to the snickers.  The half empty pack of cigarettes should be behind the beer, and partially hidden from view from the vantage point of the chair.

Next, go into the kitchen and put a pot pie in the microwave.  Come back and forget all about how things were arranged and continue watching Starship Troopers.  Take several drinks from the beer and light a cigarette.

When the microwave dings, go get the pot pie.  Come back and arrange a place to the right of the laptop for the pot pie, and then take a drink of the beer.  After you've put the beer back down, fuss over the placement until you've unconsciously moved the beer, snickers, and half empty pack of cigarettes into a new position 120 degrees clockwise to the original settings.  Go for a new cigarette and realize that you still have one smoldering in the ash tray.  The cigarette wins this round.

Stir the pot pie and forget all about the chess game.  Take a bite of the snickers while waiting for the pot pie to cool because you're so hungry.  Take a drink of the beer to wash it down, and realize you're not in the mood for pot pie anymore after the bite of snickers.  Take a drag of the cigarette and remember the game.  Observe where you put the snickers after taking the bite and the beer after taking the drink.  The entire arrangement is now 120 degrees clockwise to the previous setting.  The snickers wins this round.

After forgetting about everything again, take a bite out of the pot pie, discover that it is still too hot, and light a new cigarette.  Watch Starship Troopers for another 8 minutes until you remember the pot pie again.  Pick it up and feel the bottom to see how hot it is, then take another bite and decide that after you've smoked one more cigarette, it should be cool enough.  Put the pot pie down next to the snickers, light a cigarette and smoke it, and completely forget about the pot pie.  After 16 minutes of  watching Starship Troopers, remember the pot pie.  After discovering that it is now a cold soggy mess, note the new arrangement which now includes the pot pie, negating the old 120 degree standard of measurement in favor of the new 90 degree standard.  The pot pie wins this round.

Wonder about this for a while until you have drawn the irrevocable conclusion that not only have you lost the game, but the whole thing is pointless.  Experience an epiphany and decide to blog about it, absolutely positive that the entire experience will translate into an earth shatteringly interesting essay on absolutely nothing.

Publish the blog, read it back to yourself, and realize that you were absolutely right, except for the interesting part.

A dream - prisoner execution

I woke up this morning from a dream that left a musical version of the words "Oh Goddam" running through my head.  These were the last words of the dream character.

The dream character was a sergeant in the army, and he was trying to get two privates to shape up.  He examined their uniforms from top to bottom and was never impressed.  He even found problems with their eyes after close examination.  He peered into the eyes of each soldier, and then dusted them with something irritating.

At that moment their base was invaded by enemy soldiers, and the two privates fled, leaving the sergeant alone in the barracks.  He fled into the head and hid behind a commode.  Two female Japanese soldiers walked in and murmured to each other, until they noticed the sergeant hiding.  They began talking animatedly in that incomprehensible gibberish they use for speech, and then they ran out.  After a few minutes a large, imposing female soldier entered and forced the sergeant out of his hiding place.

She examined him up and down and found him lacking, as he had with the two privates.  She looked closely into his eyes.  She said in English, "They would make good golden ornaments.  Lets shine them up."  She sprayed something in his eyes that caused horrible burning pain, and then produced a cloth and began rubbing them violently.  Then she produced a gun and said, "Well, lets have them."

At that moment, the two privates walked in, dressed in their soldier finery.  They didn't seem to be prisoners, and they watched as the sergeant struggled with the big female Japanese commander.  She was trying to point the gun right between his eyes and he was grappling furiously with her.  The gun went off once, barely missing the sergeants head, and at that moment he began singing those words, over and over.  Then the gun centered on his forehead and went off.  The dream went black and I could hear the fading sounds of the gunshot and a toppling body.

I miss.

I miss Laura.  I've really been missing her a lot lately.  We were roommates in the past, and at one point she was one of my best friends.  The last time I heard from Laura was May of 2003.  She had just moved to Austin and had called me to tell me what had happened to her, as she had just kind of disappeared after she moved out due to a dysfunctional relationship she was trying to escape.  I miss her a lot.  We used to do lots of stuff together... take walks, go to bars, go out to eat, and generally just talk a lot about everything.  I remember the first day she moved in.  I got home from class at the Art Institute and walked into the apartment, and she and her sister were in the kitchen cooking supper.  I remember how great it felt to come home to find the activity of people I cared about in my apartment, the sounds of them talking and laughing as I opened the door, and the smell of food cooking.  It felt like home at that moment, more than it probably ever has since.

I find myself wondering a lot what happened to Laura.  She was in a terrible relationship with a guy off and on during the time we were roommates.  I wonder if they're still together.  When I think about the people in my life who I love who have just disappeared, I feel a deep sadness if I dwell on it.

One of those moods

Mrs. Landers was a health nut, she cooked food in a wok.
Mr. Harris was her boyfriend, and he had a great big
Cock-a-doodle-doodle, the rooster just won't quit.
And I don't want my breakfast, because it tastes like
Shih Tzus make good house pets, they're cuddly and sweet.
Monkeys aren't good to have, because they like to beat their
Meeting in the office, or meeting in the hall.
The boss, he wants to see you, so you can suck his
Balzac was a writer, he lived with Allen Funt.
Mrs. Roberts didn't like him, but that's 'cause she's a
Contaminated water can really make you sick.
Your bladder gets infected, and blood comes out your
Dictate what I'm saying, because it will bring you luck.
And if you all don't like it, I don't give a flying fuck!