I thought for sure by the year 2005 we’d all be carrying around some sort of holographic tubes in our pockets that would take care of everything from commerce to communications. That this christmas I’d be faxing gift specs accross continents so nano factories could intelligently construct themselves to build cleverly wrapped presents upon reciept and then dissolve into the atmosphere as fresh new oxygen molecules that reinforce the ozone. With the exception of the internet and tivo, not much has changed in everyday life – I still have to use a separate washing machine and dryer and am no closer to that clothing processor I was promised by ethereal visions of the future. Nor do I have that amphibious car to drive vertically and sideways on land or sea that I so desperately need. And where is that underground hydraulic tube that delivers me milk, coffee, and latenight snacks? How about my droid I was supposed to have to clean up and keep things tidy around here?! If you see him around tell him to email me.

{tags future utopia housework}

We have been watching the aftermath of Katrina in the media for two days and I’m silenced by the tragedy unfolding in New Orleans and surrounding areas. The response of our government has been pathetic so far while people struggle to survive and worse – reminding us that even established order can be paper thin.

**Update: Among the many ways to help out, Etsy is selling donated items and sending all proceeds to the Red Cross Hurricane Relief Fund. I just bought this cool Tokyo print.

{tags hurricane aftermath}

On September 3rd, 1972 – I was born Aria Melonfish D’Antonio. As a stroke of blind luck on my part the Melonfish was omitted from the birth certificate despite my parents having every intention of branding me with this unfortunate moniker for all eternity. Makes sense I suppose, being I was concieved in a teepee on Marthas Vinyard. So thank you kind hospital administrator with enough mercy to strike that one from the record; I really do appreciate it. Unfortunately the name stuck with me as in “Aria Melonfish you listen to me when I’m talking to you” and “Aria Melonfish, you put some clothes on RIGHT NOW!” or the ever popular “Aria Melonfish D’Antonio! Stop talking to your imaginary friends in the front yard, the neighbors think your posessed!”.

Throughout the years I’ve been called just about every variation you can think of. Some of the better pronounciations remain ah-ree-ay, AH-ria, AIR-ee-uh, uh-REE-uh, and ay-riuh. At least those are honest attempts and, however strangely, actually derived from the word aria. Most people give up entirely and decide to call me something they think suits me better, as if their caveman brains say – ‘no wait too much comprehend use some else name’. The list for these is a long one and the possibilities are ENDLESS. Arianna, ariella, adrianna and yes, the dreaded AERIOLA – to name a few. The ultimate, and I’m not kidding when I say I’ve heard this one a gazillion times, is Ariel followed by the ubiquitous “Oh like the Little Mermaid? I love that movie!”

Eventually I stopped correcting everyone; it was just awkward and hard to do without traces of “what are you fucking crazy?” in my voice. So certain people, mostly at work, I just let call me whatever they want and like I said not ten minutes ago to my newest coworker – I say – “Yes, JUST like the Little Mermaid!”

**Update: I just recieved a piece of inter-office mail addressed to Ariba.

{tags teepee marthas vinyard little mermaid}

Today is one of those days where your cruising along and all is well with the world. Good coffee, good handle on the days work, sense of order, sunshine, kittens, unicorns; you get the picture mellow people. And then kapow! Something sends you spiraling into the cold, black heart of darkness.

Those of you who know me are are probably stuck wondering where I get the nerve refering to myself as either delicate or flowerlike. Brick shit house – I’ve been told. But delicate flower? Not even on my most graceful of days.

I was being ironic since right now I could scorch out the eyes of the innocent with a white-hot fury of one thousand suns. Thats how frustrated I am and how demonic my subsiquent glare has become. Boo!

{tags unicorns sunshine demonic kittens}

now I’m feeling slightly deranged. I did find $5 on the ground though, which is wierd because I never find anything and I also found a girls purse this week. Conflicted, yes – but I called a number on her cell and returned it like a good girl. The whole process took way too much time and I was not pleased but could use the deposit into my carmic bank account these days. Especially after following that woman home in a maniacal road rage and sitting slinked down at the wheel outside her house waiting for her to come outside so I could interrogate her on her driving methods and generally go batshit. I’ll just let the reader wonder if I really did that or not.

The mayoral inauguration of Antonio Villaraigosa is this morning and the street I work on is blocked off. The Terminator is here along with a whole parade of politicians slash actors slash whatevers so I’ll never make it too the freeway. He’s not even in office one day he’s already fucked up the streets. Here’s a neat image from earth.google:

• Speaking of work, yesterday was bad day in the open systems storage dept of a life insurance conglomerate. I’ve been having trouble all week with mysterious hardware errors. Yesterday backups stopped dead in their tracks and I was forced to find the problem – for real this time. Upon further inspection I discover these very tiny plastic pieces below have broken this very large piece of machinery: what.ever.

  

  • {tags storagetek legato google earth}

at work, yep I sure do. I have standard scenarios that I visit pretty much daily; most popular are post-apocalyptic end of the world scenes that involve me being a badass warrior/survivor type crafting clever lifesaving solutions for dangerous life in a chaotic world of thiefs, killers, and hybrids. Different things play out but the basis is always the same: I’m a deadly streetfighter, I have the best outfits, and I ALWAYS save the day. Always.

Also in demand are the I’m wildly rich and famous and travel in the most exotic high-profile circles fantasies. At some point I’ll see someone I haven’t seen in years and pretend I don’t know them at first and then make a big scene about an amazing thing I have or am doing. I know this is really shallow but I’m usually charitable about buying them a ferrari or paying off their mortgage or something. Money is NO object. And I travel ALL the time.

{tags post-apocalyptic day dreams worriors hybrids}