Wonky

Crap. 

I got wonky-screen issues. Like serious wonky-screen. It was fine when I went to sleep but now I wake up and put on the comp and my screen is at a slight angle from my monitor. You get? Like part of "6:20 P.M." is getting cut off on the right bottom of my screen. And I can't see the top of the thing that scrolls, it's also got cut off. This is why you shouldn't let your nephew touch your computer, even if he does show signs of being an artiste at a young age.
In any case. I didn't come here to tell you about my wonky screen. I come from haunts of coot and hern I make a sudden sally. To sparkle out among the fern and bicker down a valley. That's Alfred Lord Tennyson for you. Let it be known that I'm no fan of his, not in particular at least. But I typed the first two words and my mind just sort of regurgitated the rest. Some drowned out schooltime memory I suppose.. I have a ton of useless poetry stuck in my head from schooltime. What a waste of mindspace. 
And just fyi, the minute I typed "regurgitated" I thought of Harry Potter ( I suppose you're not a Potter fan, Zonk, so the reference is lost but oh well) and the minute I typed "mindspace" my head went "Malad". I think I have a malfunctioning mind. I think I do oh no I think I do. 
But I digress. I came to say I got a hair cut. Again. It's nice but it's not as anime as the last two times. But who cares. Haircuts make you happy. Haircuts are like Chicken Soup for the Soul. Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen are full of shit, don't believe that bull about cancer-patient-stories making you feel awesome. They don't. Haircuts do B-) I don't know about you Zonk, but there's nothing as nice as leaning back and letting other people give you a shampoo. Even if sometimes they are noobies and they get water down your back. And then they tell you how nice your texture is while they cut your hair and make it all awesome. And then your sister will take pics and for a whole day you feel like Such a looker. Ah the bliss *lies in hammock with hands folded behind head*. 
I was thinking yesterday, while they were cutting my hair, that hair styling must be such a fun job. Imagine that you Like cutting hair and you're good at it and you get big bucks for it. Unless you work for Miss Fashion Beauty Parlour or something, in which case I'm sorry about your low-paid dead-end job and I'm really sorry for all the aunties whose hair you screw on a regular basis. I'm talking about someplace fancy like Toni&Guy; the stylists there must love their job. Stress free and a lot of love from pretty-feeling customers. Sure we all wake up and feel normal the next day, but it's an awesome one-day-of-awesomeness anyway. 
I don't know if you know about my Plan, Zonk, so I'll tell you anyway. The Plan is this: by the time I'm 40, if I'm rich and I've done everything I wanted to, ie. made some music that's been at least slightly heard and written a book (don't tell anyone) that does nicely and saved up from a decently paid creative job of some sort, then I become a librarian. That's my idea of a stress-free awesome job..sit in a roomful of books and read through your workday. Eat lunch at your desk sometimes..have a big table with a pen-holder full of neatly sharpened pencils and a box of paperclips and pads with off-white paper..and a computer (with proper internet, not just OPAC) where you can blog and facebook and g-talk all day and nobody'll care. Well. That was kind of what I did with my internet at Grey, which is the only job I ever had..but that sucked so it does't count. Being a librarian will be awesome. I suspect I'm not gonna be there by the time I'm 40, but bleh. I'm just saying that's the ideal situation. 
And, if I do really well, then I'll start a small bookstore of my own with rare books and awesome books only. It will be old looking and have wooden shelves and no white lights. And I'll pick the music that plays there myself. And there'll be a coffee shop inside too.  
Ah. Ze Life, is it not. *the hammock thing again*
Just so you know, I think luthiers also have a lovely job. I'd love to be a luthier if I could. But all this when I'm 40. And only if I do well. Who knows..eighteen years hence I may be forty and stuck in a terrible job and still getting my bliss from someone cutting my thinning, greying, defeated hair. And I'll be telling you about how I have serious wonky-life issues.
:|
Ps: I don't plan these things. As in I didn't do the wonky-screen wonky-life thing on purpose. I really just wanted to tell you about how my screen is slanted oddly and stuff. The wonky-life thing hit me later when I was looking for a title for the post.

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

Advertisements

Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

4 thoughts on “Wonky”

  1. Did you get a haircut before or after I bumped into you yesterday? It was before, wasn't it? I usually don't notice such things.P.S. Your screen should have an auto-adjust option, almost all of them do.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s