"Mama said knock you out"

I'm trying to handle this well, but I was already pissed enough as it is. I had typed up a couple good paragraphs of blog and fucking Mozilla crashed, taking my good entry with it. I'll give this one more go, and then I'm getting all kinds of furious.

Tatiana and I have continued getting closer, and I can safely say that I'm once again begirl-friended. It seems as though it's all happened quickly, but I can't complain, since I'm so fond of her... besides, who am I to argue with such a good thing? She comes over to visit alot, and calls me several times a day. I'm just happy to be with a girl who actually wants to spend time with me... this is a total 180 from my last relationship, and it's put a little spring in my step. I just can't get enough of this girl.

I went to mom & dad's tonight to steal food. I'm dead broke till next week, and am about out of food. While I was there I made dinner, read up on fugues (I intend to write one as soon as a I figure a couple things out, and I might even let the Jacoda lads take a swing at it), talked to Tatiana, and hooked more food for ol' B-18.

On the way back I day-dreamed about my lass and writing a fugue, and was lost in thought as I came up to the light at Monroe and Alexander, only to see myriad flashing lights ahead. Wondering what the hell burned down, I drove ahead. I discovered a cop blocking the road less than a block from the apartment parking lot. Not thinking much of it, I went around in front of him to get to said lot. Well, he immediately pulls out and comes up next to me. Having forseen this, I rolled down the window to be greeted by a incredulous, "where do you think you're going??"
To this I answered matter-of-factly, pointing at the building, "I live there."
This seemed to more irritate the pig, who burst out, "you don't go around a police car blocking the road!"
I took note that the emergency vehicles were several hundred yards up beyond the lot, and my getting into the lot would in no way interfere with them.
"How am I supposed to get home? I live here," I said, again pointing at the building, for added emphasis and reference.
"This time you're lucky," the pig informed me, "usually you'd walk! When a police car is blocking off a road, it's blocked for a reason!"
Several responses came to mind at this point, and I could sense myself losing patience with this piece of mental flotsam. However, he was The Man, and if I didn't choose my response carefully, I'd have spend the night cooling my jets in the county lock-up. I could think of nothing that wasn't insulting or angry to say, so I let it go with an irritated and thoroughly dishonest "I'm sorry." Promtly the pig pulled back to his position, letting the drunks go and preventing residents from getting home without harrassment. Was he seriously going to make me park my car half a block away from my god-damn building & make me hoof it? So I'd have to either wake up and move the car by 7:00am, or get a ticket because the bastard wouldn't let me park in my own god-damn lot? I was nearly livid. It was 2:30 in the morning, the fire trucks were all the way up at the corner and all I wanted to do was park my fucking car and go up to my apartment. Who the hell is this shit-head to tell me I can't do that? I hate cops.

Coming soon:
A review of the past week's fun, including:
• the road to girl-friendedness,
• a solid, fun Jacoda gig at Water Street,
• cramming to pass piano minor
• my new-found contempt for 99% of rock musicians