Before you know it, you're the crazy cat lady in the scary house

Rhyme And Reason

June 02, 2004 ... 11:37 p.m.

Bootsie: �Oh, holy macadamia nuts!�

I tried to sleep in today. Had today off, but the construction guys building the house next door started banging at 6a.m. 6AM! I think that is illegal and I might have called the cops had I not been too lazy to get out of bed.

But, you know, whatever. It�s not like the local police actually do anything. Except for my pal, Officer Jim, who is so amazingly hot that his gorgeousness more than makes up for the whole squad�s lack of crime solving capabilities.

I�m not exaggerating. A few years ago Mom and I were at a stoplight and, in the next lane and one car up, this guy had stuck his arm out his window. My mom went on about this great arm--she�s an arm chick-- and we pulled up alongside the SUV. Eww. EW. My mom was drooling over Officer Jim. My MOM.

And I am not belittling all cops, okay? It just happens that our local force can�t solve bank robberies and can only solve a murder (and that�s just a sample) if the killer leaves a trail of bloody footprints back to his own apartment.

On the other hand, they do own firearms ... God love the CRPD.

Did you know that, when playing outside on a nice sunny day, children do not need to use the bathroom? Ever.

It�s true! I was outside from ... oh ... 10am-ish to around 2pm and most of the neighborhood kids were out. I think I went inside twice, but not even the 5-year-olds with bladders the size of ping-pong balls took a break. Not one.

It was really quite interesting.

And have you heard of this new game apparently called �Scream & Run�? That was all they did. Here�s how to play: Run. Scream. Repeat. For several hours. No balls involved, no Hot Wheels--not even an �it�. They just run around and scream. I thought they might hyperventilate or pass out from vertigo ... but no. Kids are so amusing.

My neighborhood is like one big, odd Sociology experiment.

I got into a debate with a guy in my Philosophy class yesterday. This is not He-Who-Smells-Of-Java. This is one of those annoying people who thinks he knows everything and is the center of the universe. Which he obviously is not because, hello, I am the center of the universe. And since he doesn�t know that simple fact, he cannot possibly know everything, now can he? I think not.

Anyway, we were discussing my prof�s hatred of Robert Frost--(��My little horse must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near...� Now, really, does that make ANY sense? And why must everything rhyme? Poems, music ... it�s rather silly.")--and segued to rhyming lyrics. Mr. Know-It-All started lecturing on how great musicians never resorted to rhyming. I said that I couldn�t think of one artist who didn�t rhyme in at least one song. He looked at me in my Plain White T�s shirt and gave me a condescending smirk of pity. Which quickly earned him a spot on my Enemy For Life list. He then dismissively told me I should try Bob Dylan and Jim Morrison.

Like I don�t know from Bob Dylan and the Lizard King. Jackass.

I asked if he meant that those two didn�t use rhymes. He said, and I quote, �Exactly. Look them up. It�s D-Y-L-A-N.�

Oh, yes he did.

Unfortunately, our prof interrupted us for another topic. But D-Y-L-A-N? I almost punched him. Besides, neither Dylan nor Morrison rhymed in their songs? Are you daft? Mr. Know-It-All did, however, concede that Mr. Dylan may have "rhymed occasionally". But Jim Morrison didn�t and, if you know the Doors like he does, you would already know that.

Astute observation, o wise one. Because, truly, he never rhymed. Nothing Jim Morrison ever did was mainstream. His writing was too monumental to have to rely on something as banal as rhyming.

You know that it would be untrue
You know that I would be a liar
If I was to say to you
Girl, we couldn�t get much higher
Come on baby, light my fire
Come on baby, light my fire
Try to set the night on fire

The time to hesitate is through
No time to wallow in the mire
Try now we can only lose
And our love become a funeral pyre
Come on baby, light my fire

I mean, really! Jim Morrison rhyme? Surely you jest.

Hello, I love you. Won�t you tell me your name? Hello, I love you. Let me jump in your game...

Okay. Point made. I�ll stop.

Tried to run, tried to hide. Break on through to the other side.

Okay. I�ll stop now. Really.

I start �Judaism, Christianity & Islam� on Monday. So. In one class, I am told that believing in God without proof is detrimental to that which makes me/us uniquely human--the ability to imagine, question and discern. And, in the very next class, I am taught why there is a God and what His role is in western religion and psyche. My brain may explode.

Have four Philosophy assignments for Monday. For one, we are to draw a picture of our ideal tombstone. Think about that for a minute. Ideal. Tombstone. The hell? And we have to write our own obituaries as if we died today.

Hi. Morbid much?

And just what is my obituary going to say? I have no life!

�Eibisch, 27, daughter of Mom and sister of Bootsie, died Wednesday, possible murder by feline�

27 years, 14 words, 1 line. Maybe something interesting will happen between now and Monday so I can add a sentence or two.

We also have to read two articles by Nagle and Camus. I hate Camus, more so after reading The Stranger.

I don�t normally agree with banning books for any reason but, if The Catcher in the Rye is banned, shouldn�t The Stranger be as well? They�re both disaffected teen stories, except that in The Stranger, Mersault actually kills someone.

The Catcher in the Rye is usually banned for profanity, sexual subject or moral rebellion. I agree that it should be banned, but for wholly different reasons. I hate the book. It is a horribly boring piece of over-hyped tripe. Not only should it be banned--it should be BURNED. If I had to read it again, I�d shoot someone, too. J. D. Salinger is on my Enemy For Life list. In fact, I think we should invent time travel with all due expedience. That way, we can go back in time and disappear the publisher before he greenlights it. Or, better yet, go back and kill J. D. Salinger before he writes the book.

I�ll get my best people on that right away

Currently Reading: Lost In A Good Book by Jasper Fforde

Listening To: RCB
...I don�t remember what you said to me--was it you would or that you wouldn�t be...

Have a happy day!

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