March 31st, 2003

caillebotte_man at his window

To Rant Or Not to Rant

Mmmm, carrot juice. This stuff is always a bit chancy, since carrots aren't a highly standardized product, and the juice isn't produced in the huge amounts which make it possible to do blends that average out the variations. Sometimes, it's a tad bitter, or at least not very sweet, but this bottle is excellent.

The carrot juice is compensation for a very difficult night with Sluggo. He's been on a blue screen frenzy. Since it has cooled off considerably tonight, it can't be from the heat. I have no idea what gets into Sluggo, aside from the fact that he hates me. I haven't got much to post because he was giving me so much frustration that I just turned him off and went out to watch television. I discovered that Sunday late night television is bad. The pickings were so thin that I ended up watching Sixteen Candles. Sluggo has a lot to answer for. Him, and Anthony Michael Hall.

One of the annoying things about computer-induced frustration is that it unfits me for concentration. I can't read, or write, when I'm livid. It takes a couple of hours of mind-numbing from the television to calm me back down. But then something broadcast can sometimes set me off again. Tonight, it was a commercial I saw. All I can say is that, while I don't buy candy bars anymore, if I did, the last image I'd want in my head while making my selection would be that of an elderly couple sharing a pair of false teeth to eat a Butterfinger! What the Hell was that company thinking?

I found that commercial even more repellant than I found the AOL CD which came with my Sunday paper. Yes! Not only are they spamming us by mail, and with CD's stuck in magazines, but now they must include their instant trash in our newspapers! And the thing isn't even in one of those re-usable cases. It's in a slick paper envelope inside a heavy plastic bag, so we can't even recycle the junk without separating it into its three parts! Feh! AOL! All-Out Losers!

Crap! I've re-irritated myself writing about it! Must get more carrot juice and calm down.

Mmmm, carrot juice.
caillebotte_man at his window

Happy Sneezy Dopey

LJ seems rather slow tonight, and there are very few recent entries on my friends page. I had to come in through a side door, again, because I couldn't get the login page to open. Annoying. (whine)Fix it, Braaaad!(/whine)

I woke up today with the feeling that my sinuses had swollen to three times their normal size and were trying to push my brain out through my ears. I was aching all over; joints, muscles, head. Spring is here! I looked out my window and, sure enough, the fruitless mulberry tree is releasing pollen! Nothing screws me up more than fruitless mulberry tree pollen.

This tree grows bunches of tiny green blossoms on stems an inch or more long. It looks as though the tree is covered in small green caterpillars. Every one of those blossoms is covered in pollen. You can blow directly on one of them, and nothing will happen. A gust of wind will not cause the pollen to release. But every once in a while, a small cloud will explode from one or another of the stems. All the blossoms on a particular stem apparently release their pollen at once. (Talk about mutual climax!) If the breeze is exactly right, the cloud will look just like a smoke ring. In fact, when back lit by the afternoon sun, the clouds always look like puffs of cigarette smoke. The puffs drift a few feet, thinning and spreading, then seem to vanish. It gives the tree an odd 1930's or 1940's Hollywood quality. I always think of Veronica Lake or William Powell. Then my nose runs.

Ah, spring. And this is my favorite season! I can't complain too much, though. The tree is only exacting partial payment for the splendid shade with which its leaves will provide me on the long, hot days of summer. Partial payment because in the late fall, I have to go out and rake those leaves, which cling to the tree until well after the cold and rainy season begins. Since that period of labor lasts longer than the few days of aches and sneezes brought on by the pollen, I consider it the greater part of the payment. Brrr. Thick, fleshy mulberry leaves, sodden from the rains, smelling of decay, needing to be dragged into piles and hauled off to the dump because they never dry out enough to be burned. I hate the thought of it.

So I won't think of it anymore. I'll just blow my nose and endure the aches in anticipation of the summer shade, when the sunlight sparkles in the spray from lawn sprinklers and the hummingbirds hover nearby, singing of long afternoon daydreams.