20 July 2001 ~ I love my mailman, and Helena freaks out the neighbors...

I have a love/hate relationship with my mailman.

It should be stated, for the record, that I don't KNOW my mailman personally, and have only spoken to him once: a bizarre conversation about Franz Kafka, whom my bewildered mailman now believes is an Australian demon who takes great joy in tormenting me with long letters. On the day that conversation took place, I loved my mailman boundlessly.

For three days this week, Helena received no mail whatsoever. On those three days, Helena hated her mailman like he was the guy who invented the hangover.

Today, I love my mailman. Today my mailman brought me:

1.) Some application-stuff for a college in Vermont, which appears to be a rather pretentious, expensive, and generally unpleasant school. But still, at least it was mail. And I can cut up the brochures and make Christmas cards.

2.) An official transcript from the College of Santa Fe, which I will, in turn, send to somebody else, who will, in turn, decide whether or not I have any brains or potential, and whether or not I ought to be attending school at all. As threatening as that sounds, it was a good thing to come in the mail today.

3.) A great, enormous letter from my penpal Greg in England. Think of it! Twenty-five pages of handwritten-letter! What spunk! I haven't even picked it up to read it yet. I'm waiting for the perfect moment: a nice cool breeze, an ice cream sandwich, a pack of Camels... And if ONLY I owned a Tom Waits CD. Greg's letters demand Tom Waits CDs.

4.) A promise from the IRS to send me lots and lots and lots of money next week! Gahd BLESS! No, it's really not all that much money, but it's more than half a month's rent! It's enough so that I won't have to beg anybody for money for food. I won't even have to ACCEPT money for food from people when they offer it. At least, not for a month or so...

Today, I love my mailman. Hell yeah. Here's to you, Mister Postman.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Am on a crusade this fine and warm mid-day, to freak out my neighbors. After all, I'm not going to be living here for TOO much longer -- just a week or two. I think perhaps my neighbors ought to see a weirder side of me than they're used to. Thus, the playlist on my CD-player:

*"Tubthumper" by Chumbawamba
*"Oops I Did It Again" by Britney Spears
*"Is She Weird?" by the Pixies. Yes. Yes she is.
*"I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred (and my gahd doesn't this song remind me of what's-his-name with the green eyes and the grape lollipop...)
*Some fucking-irritating-as-shit Vengaboys song which is making me CRY it's so stupid... Ohhhh, I hate myself for OWNING this CD! Whee! Helena likes to party!
*"Bucelphalus Bouncing Ball" by Aphex Twin, which sounds like the noises made by the bizarre balls-and-slides-and-banger-things sculpture in Port Authority. I love Aphex Twin almost as much as I love my mailman.
*...and last but certainly not least, the freaky piano thing from "Eyes Wide Shut."

...On top volume...

My neighbors are going to hate me.

*grin*

I love my life.

Off to reply to some mail...
~Helena*