the sun'll come out...

i feel better.
broker, but better. new machine ordered and should be here around february 1. hopefully.
and the 1st shakespeare gig after 3weeks off with the hunt for a new computer having occupied the time i'd hoped to use to refresh my lines, went ok.
now i'm breathing again and have happily relinquished grims' computer, prepared to accept and simply deal with the fact that my current machine may shut itself off at the worst possible moments, because the new one will be here in less than 2weeks. and i been thinking that i should stop bitching because being a dual-laptop household is technically a luxury. it just worries the hell outta me to be down 1 machine because we both freelance, and i, especially, conduct a lot of work-related communication via email, without the opportunity to go to the office and make sure we all on the same page.
i'ma shut the fuck up about that soon-to-be-remedied, minor inconvenience.

i don't know how many (few?) of you know the product milo "energy food drink" that i grew up enjoying- more often than not, spooning it dry from the tin into my mouth (it's like ovaltine but with larger, chunkier, crunchier, and infinitely more excitingly-textured crystals, although you can also buy it pre-mixed liquid, boxed-with-accordion-necked-straw-on-the-side) when my mother wasn't home, or sometimes from a bowl, mixed with dirty brown sugar or sweetened condensed milk- but if for no other reason, australia is worthy of recognition for having not just the energy-drink-mix-in-a-can, but also a malted milo-drink-mix version (red can, reminiscent of the red- or green-wrapped, regular or mint-flavoured catch), milo cereal, milo pudding, milo ice-cream (praise-ed be the bountiful milo gods), and milo bars, which are basically delightful, long sticks (about twix length but milky way girth, unless those're actually the same length and my altered brain is leading me astray, enthralled by last night's 12.02am computer solution) of compressed milo, dipped in chocolate. milo ice-cream and milo bars are heaven-sent. i plan to contact nestle t+t to rigourously question their denial of the trinbagonian public's fundamental right to these other valuable milo products.
for those who've never had it, i don't really share my milo unless i'm somewhere it's readily available. in which circumstance, you can go get your own.

i finally finished moby dick in oz. there was no need. i'm sure i've said this before, but i'll say it again, in the spirit of the book of which i speak: i'm long-winded. so when i tell you herman melville needed an editor, you know i not playing.
damn, man.
but on a related and funner note, i found out by accident on our first day in oz- we went from d.c. to l.a. to the melbourne airport to the rented apartment (just a block off batman avenue, on which i, naturally, got a picture of myself wearing the batman shirt zed just gave me) dropped off our shit, bathed, and went cricket (australia vs. south africa, to which grims wore his windies cricket shirt, and promptly fell in love with the game, thus resulting in the rest of our 3weeks being punctuated by cricket scores and highlights) and some youths behind us were doing this massive quiz in the newspaper and didn't know within the 1st 3words of a clue that that answer was "james joyce" but got an extra point for my knowing it so fast and thus included us in their knowledge-bank for the rest of the questions- that the artist moby (don't know if it's a given-name) is a direct descendant of herman melville, which made me say a silent "duh!" to myself as soon as they checked the upside-down answer because i'd just been talking about it when i got off the plane since every time i'd tried to read the fucking book in the air i fell into an uncomfortable sleep that never made me feel better in that way that you can't relax even while asleep if you feel you aren't on drooling-level-familiarity with your temporary cohabitants. grrr.
but i finished it, and can now firmly say that i could see potential in what he was trying to do with the whole show-me-don't-tell-me obsession and so-long-searching-for-the-whale vibe, but please, man. i didn't even see the freaking thing until page 500+change of 600-and-a-couple and there was way too much sperm-shit to wade through in getting there. if i wanted the full-on waiting-on-a-whaling ship, i'd go whaling. i mean, i read for the immersion too, but i'd like it to be a somehow interesting ride.
anyway, this has been too long. just that last sentence was too long, so this post must be ridiculous and outta control. i'm just running on as long as the computer'll let me, i'm so excited to be getting somewhere with a post on this dying machine.
walk good.
ps: the shark tank in the darling harbour aquarium was the best! they built a plexiglass(?) tunnel under the water so you walk through and the sharks, rays, and huge turtles (bigger than me) swim over you, and cool their bellies on the glass a couple feet above your head. photos sooncome.