I just thought I would share this thought.

Do you ever have a concept of what something will smell or taste like before you actually experience it?

Like when I was little and learned about bears and seals eating fish I had a subconcious reaction to imagine what it would be like to be a big friggin’ grizzly and snatch up a salmon out of the river and eat it whole. This sounds just as crazy as it did in my head…. anyway….

I never really thought about it too much, but when I ate sashimi for the first time I was kind of startled to find that it tasted identical to the taste I imagined as a child, way before I ever had sushi for the first time. And I don’t think it was due to reverse association or any of that jazz.

Screw it, I’m sensually clairvoyant, I’ll just say it.

2pm

I love this picture so much I want to take it behind a middle school and get it pregnant.

Yes, this picture of an iceberg is what inspired me to update this (that and I just remembered how long I worked photoshopping that banner when I should have been studying for midterms).

I work at Cargill (for those of your who don’t know what that is just know that you eat our handywork everyday and you would have to go live in a survivalist commune in northwestern Wyoming to boycott us) and it is a rare treat that I find something that makes me double over in my cubicle. The occasional Facebook check, watching of a sneezing panda on Youtube, Gmail check… blocked. nope. please. gone. it’s like Iran over here. Was that in bad taste? I never said I was that classy.

Anyway, my friend A-train and I came upon this Cargill Connections blog that belongs to someone who goes by “the Schemer,” short for “starschemer” from what I can decipher. He also talks about himself in the third person and refers to anyone who looks at his blog as “gazers” and greets viewers as “gazernation.”

Normally people who talk about their dealings in the third person have something to say. Matt Damon, George Costanza… need I say more? So we continued reading…

Anyway the Schemer works in one of Cargill’s satellite buildings and writes chilling exposes on how Sobe Lifewater is a $1.50 in the lower level vending machine but $2.00 at Cargill’s in-house coffeeshop Jazzmans (the Schemer calls it Jazzhands). “STOP CONSPIRACY TIME.”

One of my favorite posts is this picture of an iceberg. I don’t know why. Maybe because there are pictures of icebergs everywhere here at Cagrill’s headquarters to represent the diversity acceptance model. Maybe I just like the idea of this crazy employee explaning icebergs. Whatever. It’s awesome.

And no I can’t share this blog with you. I work in the corporate equivalent of area 51.

Besides, I’m too busy right now holding a candle light vigil and practicing Umbanda rituals for Walter Cronkite.

Talk you later Gazers

1pm

The boyfrand and I are going to St. Louis today. It will be a glorious 75 degrees and I’m going to enjoy the zoo like nobody’s business.

This week couldn’t have been longer and more depressing. Yes I got to talk to Joan Baez for an interview, but besides that it’s been a week full of thorns. Even 30 Rock last night wasn’t outrageously amazing. It was just good.

So here I sit anxiously awaiting my roommate, Shmoogs (Megan Rehard, Schmeagn Rehard, Schmegan Retard) to exit the shower so I may commence what I think will be a friggin’ great day off.

8am

“This is like Lisa Frank’s world come to life. It’s effed up.”

- my friend, Lindsey Foat, on a pink dolphin found in Lake Calcasieu in Louisiana that has albinism.

8pm

I. Love. This. The safari stuff. The purple eyes. It’s all perfect. I wish I could wear this every day without people looking at me.

I could go dig up Indian ruins or Egyptian tombs completely decked out in Gucci. That’s probably the most indulgent thing I could think of doing. 

11pm

I suppose blogs are for what you’re thinking about. I’m thinking about how I want spring break to come more than I want TV on the Radio to play at the Blue Note again. More than I want a Super Target down the street from my duplex.

 I’m going to get to eat Sunday brunch at the Peabody and eat and Paul Deen’s restaraunt in Georgia. Finally my own episode of No Reservations. 

10pm