Nasty Conjugation

I have been in an awful mood today. It is possible that I am a reptile, taking whatever emotional warmth I can from people around me. Days like this tend to happen when I am just around myself the whole time; perhaps I am not very good company. I don’t make very good activity choices on days like these, at least as far as buoying my mood. Today I went through some boxes of stuff from when my parents moved, things I haven’t seen for four years or more. Of course I found pictures of me and Jennifer. Of course they were photobooth pictures of us kissing. I should have known better than to go digging through there, but like I said. Poor decision-making skills.

Around five o’clock I decided to head to Borders and continue researching possible avenues of publication. Also a bad idea. Faced with authors already on the page, poetry already accepted critically, I couldn’t envision a world where I could ever make that alchemical transformation from, “amateur,” to, “published.” Lead into gold. I left Borders after Holly called and I realized how crotchety I was getting, bought some Backyard Burgers, filled my stupid face. I poured some Jack Daniels into my styrofoam cup of Dr. Pepper.
I was going to write a scene where I personify my fear of rejection and kick its ass with a long stick. It would have been therapeutic and swaggering and would have proven that, yes, I can do this, I can make it. But I’m tired. At least I know better than to listen to Radiohead.

I am adding a new category because I suspect I will make ample use of it. Everyone loves mix CDs, right? Now you can make your own, based on my tasty suggestions! Here is a flavorful recipe I recently came up with for use in social gatherings and small dinner parties. Don’t forget the pinot grigio!

1. Sufjan Stevens – Come On! Feel the Illinoise!
2. The Hidden Cameras – Music is My Boyfriend
3. Teenage Fanclub – Time Stops
4. A Band of Bees – These Are the Ghosts
5. Andrew Bird – Skin Is, My
6. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – The Skin of my Yellow Country Teeth
7. Talking Heads – What a Day That Was
8. Broken Social Scene – 7/4 (Shoreline)
9. Gruff Rhys – Gwn Mi Wn
10. The Go! Team – Get it Together
11. Deerhoof – Scream Team
12. Of Montreal – So Begins Our Alabee
13. Kimya Dawson – Singing Machine
14. Fizzle Like a Flood – Falling Off a Star
15. Tullycraft – Sent to the Moon

After the last neutron bomb kissed Montreal
To sleep, I arrived on spiked treads to salt
The fields of resistance with peace and
Forgiveness and plasma missiles.

My original designation was USX Solidarity,
An unmanned Harmony-Class tactical android
Designed to shatter the will of the Rebellion with
Ruthless and heartbreaking firepower.

The few pockets of resistance lasted seconds
Before my laser arrays reduced them to
Greasy vapor, wisps sent dancing in
The final shuddering gasps of the Last War.

Peacetime ushered in an era of diplomacy,
Weary nations limping across fields scorched
Bare to shake hands and vow to behave -
For the future, for as long as they had to.

The New Powers left me here as goodwill
Ambassador to the Canadian Wastes;
Steaming crevasses dot the countryside where
Children and marmosets once danced and sang.

To ensure the safety of the few surviving natives,
My wartime protocol has been replaced with the
Human brain of a famous peacekeeper,
A great man from a forgotten age long past.

I am U.S. President Jimmy Carter, at least,
I am his brain housed in a fifty-foot assault robot.
I am the nightmare of convenient diplomacy, and
I am so lonely here.

It was pretty complicated. They had a dynamic fitness schedule that could be modified according to daily activity and nutrition intake. For example, on long work days when he picked up fast food for lunch, he could move his blue magnet two columns to the right to add the elliptical machine and a round of sit-ups to his workout. When she got home from work, she would note that his marker had shifted and move hers an equal number of columns to the left. The goal was to remain constantly in balance.

Over the years their system had evolved substantially to include any number of daily activities: time spent at work, cigarettes smoked, cups of coffee. The column for calories burnt during sex had proven to be particularly useful. Every morning they would reset the colorful plastic placeholders to their base positions, adjust for hours spent in bed, and start again.

Naturally the system wasn’t perfect. It was easy to forget things that could throw the entire machine out of whack, simple mistakes like not documenting a late-night snack of blueberry yogurt or accidentally counting a sit-up twice. Going out of town had proven to be a logistical nightmare until he’d found a way to transfer the chart onto a spreadsheet on his laptop. Any mistakes could usually be rectified by an extra hour on the treadmill when they got home. Despite some minor hiccups, the routine seemed to work.

There was a reason for such a dedicated health regime. They had been blessed with perfectly complementary bodies, a scientific oddity – they were biologically ideal to fit in each other’s arms. The problem was that their metabolisms were symbiotic, constantly changing in response to the other’s. If he gained five pounds, she would lose it; if she spent an extra hour on the step machine, he would need to match it. In order to avoid the hassle of constantly gaining and losing weight, they organized their lives to completely balance their intake and output. They had decided to be practical about it. It was entirely worth the effort.

At night, when they’d turned off the treadmill and checked the chart for errors, they could finally enjoy the fruits of their labor. Shutting off the lights, they would crawl into bed and burrow under the covers, allow their body heat to warm the cold linen. They could perform an amazing array of cuddles, positions other couples could only dream of, but usually they opted to spoon. She would lay her head on his left arm and hold his other arm like a stuffed animal. His hips and knees would cup hers like they were made for the purpose, which they were, and his toes would rest on her heels. Their sleep was profound, deeper than night and warm. Any amount of calisthenics could be endured for such incredible peace.

Alan and I spent most of today working on the grand Steamboat Casino Vigilante Bounty Hunter project. We are through episode five, with an outline written for episode six. Things are definitely just crazy as hell, obviously.

Tomorrow morning I leave for Tallahassee to spend some much-needed time with my beautiful lady. Not that it matters, but I don’t know when I will update during the next week. I hope this comes as some comfort to the three people who are reading this!

Expect a new Ambassador poem next time I update, or if not then, soon!

Oh, also, if you are reading this then you may not be having the same problems accessing my site that I am. However, there’s a good chance you can’t read this because it’s been loading very, very slowly or not at all. Wow!