dream post

June 13, 2007

It’s been a while since the last dream post, and the dreams of late have been plentiful. I don’t remember nearly as much as I dream, though. A few select memories:

  • A bird gets in the house; I don’t have a net to catch it with, so I somehow catch it in a big jar using a tennis racket. It’s a sparrow. As soon as I get it outside and release it, it’s a young robin, and its beak has fallen off. Whoops.
  •  I’m moving in with some girl I don’t really know (who doesn’t exist in real life to the best of my knowledge), who is in grad school and has cable TV (that’s enough to make me go for it even though I don’t know her). A* is moving in too. The apartment is small and we’ll all be sleeping in pretty open quarters, which at first I’m fine with, then soon I’m not okay with. My mom is concerned because my sister is concerned that I’ll be watching too much TV. I realize at some point that if I’m moving into this place, I’m leaving my apartment way early, and I feel bad for my landlord because he’ll have to find a new tenant. I begin to freak out about what I should do; the dream melts into reality too much and ends.
  • More elevator anxiety dreams.
  • The one where one of the guys who works at the radio station that shares offices with us asks if it’s okay for him to pour a bunch of excess water from (something? I can’t remember what it was in) and I say sure. He does immediately, all over my shoes. I get mad, and after a good thirty-second delay, find him and say “YOU COULD’VE WAITED A MINUTE MY SHOES GOT REALLY WET” and he says “Oh, I’m sorry!” and then I feel really dumb for having said anything and think about how awkward it’ll be to see him at work from now on.

Andybot, where hast thou been?

Well . . . work has been busy, and is nearly the only time I’ve been online lately, given my (heavenly) lack of home internet access. Also the little time I have had has been spent working on previously mentioned future blog project that needs work. (The previous sentence may or may not be the result of a challenge to write a sentence with three different tenses of the same verb in a row with no punctuation in between . . .)

Also, Friday night, after making tasty seitan reubens with friend, sat down and drank bourbon-spiked iced tea and re-fell in love with Didion. I’m afraid to read her most recent book, though (the one that’s been turned into a play starring Vanessa Redgrave). Of all things, it struck me pretty hard to be reading about the very early childhood — infancy in fact — of someone who I know died at age 40, not long ago. Especially knowing the writer, the mother, is still alive.

(regent s)quare fellow

May 29, 2007

Hi, blog.

I moved into my totally awesome new place this weekend and am quite pleased, if hurting in the lower back region. I now live in my own lil joint with trees around and attractive neighbors I don’t know and no wretched little kids running all around. Also, as promised, I am lacking internet there and not too upset about it. There’s wireless at the coffeeshop down on Braddock Ave, I’m pretty sure, so if I NEED it it’s just a short walk away, but do I really NEED it? Do I?

On tap for this (short) week is an article about Oxford Collapse (they just played here the other night, yes, but they’re coming back for the Unicorn Mountain showcase at the Arts Festival next week. Also I’m going to Bellevue(!) to write something for city guide for the paper. What the hell happens in Bellevue? We’ll find out, I s’pose.

I might get some pictures of the new place up eventually but I really have to figure out how to work my new camera phone. Or just make Brian take pictures of it for me.

my sock what?!

May 18, 2007

I got a spam message this morning that consisted entirely of this image:

following directions

May 13, 2007

Two things that made me laugh today:

This morning, going through a pile of stuff and packing what I want and throwing away the rest, I came upon some homeopathic allergy pills that I got last year in Philly that didn’t help me. Reading the package, I realized what was likely the reason it wasn’t working: under “other directions,” it says “For best results, take with a clean mouth.”

Then, this afternoon, I signed up for a cellular account with Sprint PCS and found myself faced with this page:

Take a look. The terms and conditions? They’re hanging out in that frame there that’s about one inch square. You have to scroll through the entire thing, reading two words at a time. AND you have to scroll side-to-side to read some of the words.

  • Finished Our Gang, by Philip Roth. It was a funny speculative satire about the Nixon administration, written in 1971 (so, in the heat of the administration, but before Watergate). It’s written like a play; I suspect it would be funnier if performed, but I still enjoyed it. Next up: Gay Talese’s Fame & Obscurity, since I barely read it when we read it in school.
  • Thursday is the reading I’m part of; I’m disastrously not ready. But whatever. I’m first, so maybe no one will have arrived yet. Also, there’s not much that preparation can do to help me. That all having been said, please come!
  • Friday night is the Kinks cover show at the Pub and also the big Girl Talk shindig at Mr. Small’s. I might go to the latter to catch Midnite Snake since I’m working on an article about them.
  • Saturday night is the Double D release at MoFo, plus Michael Johnsen and Centipede. Then, at the Pub, RTX and the Dirty Faces. The new RTX is something. I’m not sure if it’s something good or something bad. I might go to that show if I’m drunk or feel like getting that way. Otherwise I’ll probably stay away.

ride a bike.

May 6, 2007

I’m knocking on wood as I type this: I replaced the tube in my rear tire finally, and rode around for a good twenty minutes or half hour or so tonight, hitting small potholes, overrunning sticks and stones, and I came back home in one piece. I may be mobile again, bicycally.

Elsewise, I chilled this weekend and gave siblings birthday gifts and played basketball and badminton with small children. Also watched the Pirates lose embarrassingly.