I remember someone once commenting to me that R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion” sounded like narration for a slide show of someone’s vacation photographs.
That’s me in the corner. [clicks remote]
That’s me in the spotlight, losing my religion.
A guy at my college thought he was the epitome of humor by rewriting the lyrics to Annie Lennox’s “Walking on Broken Glass”:
Smoking some,
Smoking some,
Real good grass …
Yesterday, at lunch, I accidentally ran a big bread knife along the pad of my left index finger while trying to use it to open the plastic surrounding my Lean Cuisine Deluxe French Bread Pizza. I applied two Band-Aids, which kept a lot of pressure on it, but too much … after a half-hour it was too pale/purple. I removed the Band-Aids and in doing so opened the wound up greater.
I had to go to the emergency room. Thankfully, they’re using this thing called Dermabond now, by Johnson & Johnson, that essentially is skin superglue. But the guy applying it was a bit of a newbie, although a nice guy, and got a little blood under the Dermabond. Since Dermabond breathes, the dried blood came out in very little bits, throughout the day. So now I know which keys my left index finger hits, thanks to small little blood prints. Thank God the keys on my home keyboard are dark gray. 
Anyway, it’s been a long day, so I’m going to go g’night now.
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There’s a certain element of coldness to my apartment. I usually have all the knobs of the radiators turned tightly off, since I live on an apartment that is on the fourth floor of a building.
(Digression One: my landlords have been doing very nice things to my building. They repainted it, and they put new grass down, and they recently planted some very beautiful flowers in the pots outside the building. The place is actually beginning to look quite nice and habitable, instead of like some sort of scuzz- and liquid-stained projects, as it did under prior landlords. It’s a pleasant surprise.)
Anyway, the heat of the building rises upwards and usually makes my apartment quite nice and toasty even in the most frigid of winter nights, and the little steam that does escape works enough to make up the difference. But at the moment, it’s about ninety minutes away from starting the second full week of May, and it’s forty-six degrees out.
(Digression Two: I really like my computer. It runs Mac OS X, which is a nice and shiny operating system that has a very techie operating system called ‘Unix’ under the hood that lets you do all sorts of powerful things, because Unix has been around since before we had personal computers, y’know … it’s the stuff they ran a lot of the big momma computers on. I think. But Mac OS X is quite nice, and I have this little thing that puts the outside temperature on my menu bar along with a picture of a cloud or a moon or a sun or a raincloud, depending on what the weather is out there.)
Anyway, it’s just 46 degrees out there, and it’s been chilly and rainy all weekend. I wanted to tell you a little more about my exercise card, because I really like it. But I should check something for a moment.
(By the way, in case you are wondering what I am doing, I am putting my MP3s (which are mostly legally burnt from owned CDs, by the way, although there are a few Napster- and Gnutella-obtained tracks in there) into moods, and I have 248 songs left, and the one is “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” which I think goes into the ‘Earnest’ category … and the next one up is a big operatic version of “We Are the World” which has Stevie Wonder and no doubt other famous people whose voices I’m not recognizing, but also has Luciano Pavarotti, and he comes into the chorus with this big very obvious operatic blast of “We Ah Deh Wooooooolllldddd …. ” and it’s actually kind of funny. Anyway.)
Today was a pretty amazing day. I had a leisurely morning, and I went to go see a play in the afternoon (”Speed-the-Plow,” by David Mamet, at the Piven Theatre Workshop — excellent). On the way back, I saw a pigeon very casually stroll out of an El car as I approached it — all it needed was a little suit and a briefcase and fedora and it would have looked very commuter-ish. And I saw two excellent episodes tonight on ABC, one “Alias” and one “The Practice,” both of which had endings that completely shocked the hell out of me, which is extremely unusual for me, since I usually can see conclusions coming halfway through a show’s plot, if not earlier. So there’s a certain visceral thrill to have something so completely unexpected happen that I find myself literally jumping and blurting out “Holy f—k!”. (If you must know what I reacted to, Lindsay on “The Practice” whipped out a pistol, gave out a cool Dirty Harry line, and calmly fired two shots right into this sociopath who thought he was Hannibal Lecter and had visited them at home. Freaky, huh?)
Anyway, it’s about twenty minutes to midnight now, so I think I’m going to call it a night so I don’t resemble a zombie tomorrow.
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I was quite happy with myself. I began the day Tuesday quite certain that I was not going to go to the gym that evening. Then, I did. And I lost six pounds this week! Woo-hoo!
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A few links.
You’ve probably heard of Am I Hot or Not?. However, this gentleman actually talks about “context-free metrics” and “contextual metrics” to indicate that Pick the Hottie is probably more accurate. Although there’s a sort of quiet amusement to it, I can understand what he’s talking about. People’s scales of one through ten can wildly differ, whereas people can usually find greater consensus on whether one man or woman is more attractive than another. And Pick the Hottie’s Top 10 Gallery … wowzers. (And, for my female or gay readers, note that both sites feature both genders.)
In an article in Time dated April 20, 2002, George Lucas is quoted as saying:
“There’s only one issue for a filmmaker. Will this make its money back so I can make the next one?”
He also says:
“Fans are very opinionated, and that’s good. But I can’t make a movie for fans.”
What a peach this guy is, eh? Still, he’s got me hooked through the nose … I’m definitely going to go see Clones in two weeks.
And two final links to round it out … you’ve heard of snowglobes, right? How about locust globes? Yes, you too can get a Snowglobe of the Apocolypse …
And I thought this poem was rather nice, poignant in its way.
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