Melancholia

I feel like something is going to happen or something is coming...like the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man.

Maybe I am being weird because I have had a lot of work stress. I have five projects and I am trying to cover the work of two bad managers and I have a new analyst working for me who is actually a Russian spy.  But Fresca still flows from fountains and I had a salad with Gorgonzola, organic pine nuts,  and Asian pears in champagne vinaigrette for lunch in the cafeteria today.  A bad day at this place is like a sliver in my finger compared to a bad day anyplace else I have worked. More on those places in a moment.

Her Hiney Ayny popped up this week.  I saw the movie of Atlas Shrugged.  So not what I it was going to be. I expected the stilted Objectivist verbiage that I sucked up when I was 17.  Sure, it was there, but not always in a head exploding kind of way. Mostly I saw a kind of OK made for TV movie that made me remember the good stuff.  Hank was hot and that chick that played Dagney was pretty much spot on for what I want from my railroad tycoons.  Tomorrow we are watching the Italian version of We the Living.  I will be a blubbering sobbing fool tonight at the end of the movie. It did occur to me that I have been treating people much like Ayn Rand did towards the end of her life lately. That does not bode well for future visits in a nursing home.  I should ponder this. 

I started reading Rosanne Cash’s twitter feed this week.  Damn I wish I was part of that little Manhattan salon / cabal.  Against my every atheist brain cell, she always somehow manages to get me to think there is a worm hole in space / time so things from the future and the past can just come up on you from behind and boink you. 

Ouch! What was that? Oh hello mermaid.  It is 11/11/11.  Six years to the day.  It was even on a Friday.  Just great. Really no need to rehash this, but it’s annoying that she is always out there waiting to sneak up on me from behind and @#$% me in the @#&. Bitch.

Talk about sneaking up on you from behind, I started reading Sandra Bernhard’s twitter feed this week too. Sandra gives me hope for American culture: "Wait why did they promise me the Oscar hosting gig and then turn around and give it to Billy? Was it my impression of Sammy?" 

Ruth Bordain also gives me hope: "Woke to full moon. Memories slowly fade of last night's rampaging as an oatmeal-eating werewolf. Covered in butter, brown sugar, cream."

We watched the new Lars Von Trier movie Melancholia tonight.  Claudia the child vampire was fucking amazing.  Really.  Remember when I sat by her at the Old Lahaina Luau in Maui? The film was sad, depressing, gorgeous, maddening.  It has that stupid nihilist Euro world view that you see in French movies where a small child gets hit by a car in the first 5 minutes, but it did not get to me.  I think I have a shield of Reardon Metal around me right now. Anyway, this whiny pee pants of a bride cannot get over herself and screws up everything and then this errant planet named Melancholia sneaks up on Earth from behind and destroys everything. 

All this stuff is connected somehow. The Russian analyst, the reappearance of Ayn Rand, the mermaid anniversary, my impending sense of doom, and Melancholia. Something is coming out of the worm hole.  I stand in my backyard and watch thin clouds flying by a very full moon. Very dramatic and very similar to the movie.  I look to see if anything is sneaking up on me from behind.  Just high blood pressure and glucose levels. After a bit the clouds clear more and I can see the man in the moon looking at me.  How come no one has ever noticed this before:

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