mood:   listless music:   Sonny & Cher - I Got You, Babe [from the soundtrack]

Groundhog Day on the teevee.

Out for just a bit today, seeing music and some people. (Some confusingly hoT young people, but that's something better ignored.)

Ariel's displaying herself at me. This means I should probably go play with her.

Back hurts today.

Tired.

None of this matters. Things are good, and if only because I contacted someone nifty today. Looking to the future.

mood:   blah music:   David Bowie - China Girl [Riff & Vox Club Mix]

Monday, I talked to Shaun and saw some music at night. Lil' sis was being annoyingly overbearing and -protective of me, as if I'm some sort of problem or maybe I don't know how to take care of myself.

Tuesday, I went to the store in order to get two CDs and walked out with quite a bit more. One day I will find a way to punish Rhino for releasing all these special two-disc versions of Costello albums.

Yesterday, I was tired, played poker, lost, am getting more and more disillusioned with the idea of playing regularly.

Sometime in there, I got an apologetic message from lil' sis. I'm not sure when it was, but I just listened to it.

Tonight, I should go shopping and actually pick up food this time.

Tomorrow night, I'm seeing music again (the Pages and the band from Monday).

mood:   curious music:   TMBG - They'll Need a Crane [in head]

The message of the day is "hot and humid". Summer's barely begun, and I'm already ready for winter. I can barely wait.

The message of the day is "eat unhealthy". Fast food for every meal. Way to go, boyo.

The message of the day is "lounge around", at home reading (putting a dent in the stack of books by the bed, getting more books for the stack in the mail), at Chris's burning CDs.


For over a week, I've been thinking I should go shopping, I need groceries. I get to Kroger at my usual time and draw a blank. What to get? What do I need? The essentials seem to be grapefruit juice, oatmeal, gouda, and forty dollars' worth of shaving supplies. What to do? Who is this man who consistently shops on Friday and Saturday nights, when the parking lot has been taken over by the valets from the club/bar next door? Who is this man who enthusiastically bags his own purchases? Who am I?

I'm just this guy, y'know?

Tomorrow's work, Scattered Pages, and Katz's. Life could be much worse.


I come home to see something dart under the foundation. It seems an R.O.U.S. at first, but the second trip from the car reveals it to actually be an adorable kitten. I go upstairs and play with Ariel.

mood:   happy music:   Tom Waits - Jockey Full of Bourbon

Coffee and Cigarettes was available to some as a sneak preview tonight, and so I got to see more of Jarmusch's enjoyable work. If I had to choose a segment, I'd dodge the question.

Before going to the theater, I went to a nice little Cuban restaurant with the boss. Good food, good conversation, and — as later during the movie and even later during the show I'm getting to — some nice scenery. As we're leaving, I point out a woman at another table and mention I think she's hot. The boss says "Yeah, and she seems pretty full of herself. You two would be a perfect match!" Asking him if that meant I'm hot seemed to only prove his point.

After the film, directly to Brasil for the Scattered Pages. Since I've been spending so much time staying at home, avoiding going out, avoiding the area, avoiding it all, it was a pleasant experience to get out and see all these people again, to get out and enjoy a night again without running off far too soon. It was good to hear some of the old standards that have been out of the program for even longer than the time they've been down to a three-piece. And it was good to meet some new people, of course.

And it was good to see Ben and finally get my copy of Down By Law back.


It feels good to feel good again, as obvious as that is.

mood:   okay music:   XTC - Summer's Cauldron [in head]

I awoke shivering.

In a way, two thirds of that sentence is wrong. I didn't really wake up because I wouldn't really call what I did "sleep". I wasn't so much "shivering" as just "really damn' cold". It totally happened to me, though, and it's punchier than a true explanation (obviously). So back to the story.


I awoke shivering. It had been a long and not entirely restful night, but I was ready to start a new day (if only to participate in some sort of warming activity). Sleep had been a fitful notion at best, especially taking into account the early evening nap, the lateness of actually going to bed, the reading material (excerpts from Stiff again since I'm reluctant to start something new when not alert enough to appreciate it). It had been one of those nights you toss and turn, you're sometimes unsure if you're actually awake and thinking I'll just lie here with my eyes closed and relax and sleep will come or dreaming it. One thing I do know is I had some visions of people in space suits picking up rocks near a deserted highway.


I sense the feelings of blah are on their way out.

mood:   listless music:   Billy Joel - Pressure

As quickly as they came, Sis, Dan, and Sing moved on to Kerrville. It makes sense, considering that's the destination for their trip, but it's still sad to see them go.

Last night, cooking, lamb, girls, drums, Falcon, corsets, backrubs, writing badly-spelled Hebrew, magnets, bags of water.

Hardly ever feel like writing anymore.


I'm listening to this song because Dan kept talking about making a Gollum-inspired parody called "Precious".

mood:   calm music:   Johnn Strauss - The Blue Danube Waltz [in head]

I was out playing pool when the call came. Sis had given Mother an update on the itinerary that indicated she would be arriving around two. For this and other reasons, Serge and I cut the pool short, and I headed home.

Jeeps have some small sort of storage space in the back that can be accessed by swinging the spare tire out. This space seems to be meant for pool cues. It's very odd.

So I got home, fixed up the spare room/storage closet a bit, and sat and waited, finishing my reading of Lapsing Into a Comma. You can't go wrong with a style guide that explains the difference between a malt and a milkshake, ending the section with "This concludes our fast-food interlude; we now return to the regularly scheduled grammar-nerd crap."

And then Sis came, and it was good. And Dan as well, obviously. And a friend. And we talked and stuff. And I gave her the glasses, which she loved. And I went to bed at four.



You would not believe how often I think of this bit of music.

mood:   impressed music:   Marcy Playground - Poppies [in head]

And boy, does it ever. When I agreed to come along today to see my father perform his duties at the Kabbalah Center, I did not expect to be there for five hours. I did not expect parashat bemidbar to be four or five chapters. I did not expect to be called up to the bimah.

It was interesting, to say the least. And it was good to be there for the special occasion of remembering my grandfather's death, which happened years before I was born. I never got to know him, but I have his name (and from what I've been told, a bit of personality). This doesn't mean I'm going to be doing more of this. This sort of thing is for people who are not nearly as lazy or tired as I am.

And there's a reason they call this book Numbers in English. It sounds like it was written by an accountant. So boring.

mood:   hungry music:   Rammstein - Eifersucht [in head]

You call up your ophthalmologist, and he tells you to come in the next day between noon and one, but call first.

The next day, you call at ten to noon, and he's not answering the phone. You talk to the receptionist, and she says he's at lunch. You ask to be transferred in order to a message, and he answers the phone. "Sarkis", you say, surprised. "You're there!" "No, I'm not", he says.

You stop, temporarily baffled. What next, you crazy Armenian bastard?, you think.

You come in, take a seat in the chair, and begin the interrogation.

Long story short, I am to throw away the contacts I've been testing for the past two weeks and I have a new pair to check out. The difference between simple lenses (being simple) and astigmatic lenses (being not-so-simple) is dramatic. My old contact had one number associated with it. My new one has four. It's like Ptolemy vs Kepler, but this time the simpler solution loses.


Poker tonight. I am less and less excited every time.

mood:   curious music:   Braziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiil

So I'm working, and I'm watching Brazil, and there's a bit involving a switch of two supply lines, one for air and another for sewage. This reminds me of when I was in the hospital the other day, and I kept seeing supply lines in groups of three: Oxygen, Air, and Vacuum.

The first is pretty obvious, and the second may well have been "Medical Air" or "Hospital Air" or some such, but the third was a bit puzzling. Sure, I can understand needing suction every now and then, but the feed seemed too small to be of any real use. The especially puzzling thing involved the wall panels holding emergency tanks of the stuff (in case a supply wasn't close enough). Each one held a little tank of oxygen, a little tank of Air, and a little tank of… Vacuum? What the? Are you just going to open it up and suck things into the tank?

mood:   drained music:   The Lemonheads - If I Could Talk I'd Tell You

It's been one of those weeks, and I just need some rest. It's been an all-glasses time.

Tonight's the Civic Symphony's last concert of the season. I'm not going to miss this Bach/Rachmaninov goodness, but the schedule isn't exactly forgiving. Whether I'll have time to go home, shave, dress up, feel good about myself… This remains to be seen.

It's been raining too much, and I have no one to dance with.

It's an update with no real reason other than updating.

( Inquiring minds! )

mood:   tired music:   Daft Punk - Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger [in head]

It's been some time, but I managed to get Serge out for some pool tonight. One result was a piece of newly-forged slang: "patched my bike", based on a mis-heard phrase, means something is "cool" or maybe "neat", or maybe just that you like it. For instance, flirting/joking with a cute and fiesty waitress patches my bike.

As a counterexample, maintaining/augmenting nasty code on a strict timeline totally does not patch my bike.

mood:   hot music:   Peter Gabriel - In Your Eyes

The AC is out, and I'm having trouble sleeping. Actually, I'm having trouble with the very idea of going to bed.

Say Anything… playing on the teevee. "Be a little decent", sez Ione Skye. This is connected to the "financial education" book mother has me reading now. It's interesting stuff, but a lot of the stuff mentions loopholes and tricks that have never struck me as "clever" — more as "cheating". Maybe it's because I'm not rich, however.

Do you know what a boat is? It's a hole in the water you throw money into. Learn the difference between an asset and a liability. Nobody acquires liabilities on purpose, but plenty get them thinking they're assets.

I'm babbling. Had dinner with mother and lil' sis today. The restaurant was very loud and had poor acoustics, but the squid was very good.


schvitzing…

mood:   happy music:   The Police - Reggatta de Blanc

Yesterday I got home from work, relaxed a bit (ridding my person of various bags and artifacts of the day), sat down at the piano. I was playing — I don't know, Stairway or some shit — when my father walked by my room, and he was dressed up quite a bit. Turns out he had an interview (or maybe two), and things went well. Good news!

He's also doing more with his Kabbalah group and enjoying it, and that's great. Turns out he's volunteered for (been suckered into?) duty as baal koreh. When he told me, I said "What, it wasn't enough for you when you turned 13?" When he told his sister, she said "Are you crazy? A bar-mitzvah every week?" We kid because we care.

Ariel is wonderful. My mother tells me she enjoyed seeing us together the other day.

mood:   hopeful music:   The Moog Cookbook - Free Fallin'

Oh, that lovely Ludwig van.

Made the long drive to Za's bookstore to get that Beethoven set I saw before. Three volumes, 32 piano sonatas, and it only costs $30? It's pure insanity! Speaking of insanity, some of what I saw was written differently, and in such a way that confuses my poor brane that normally thinks of the double-staff system as indicating what to play with the left hand (the lower staff, normally with a bass clef) and the right hand (the upper staff, normally with a treble clef). Still, that price is unbeatable (even though Za mentioned something about $21 with her employee discount — no need!). It works even as just some crap to put on the shelf.

Spent some time poring over grammar and style texts to answer a nagging question. Found out about this book. The question was not resolved, as every solution just sounds bad. The best way to handle it is avoidance (recasting).

As with most changes, how inappropriate my present contacts can be for my left eye is now more apparent. Oh the other hand, I could have just been really tired last night. I will continue to experiment and tell Sarkis the results later.

No poker tonight. Maybe I'll go see my mother.


Thinking of presents for people.

mood:   complacent music:   Beatles - Eleanor Rigby [in head]

The thing about music-related memes is that they give me some time to write. Set the playlist on shuffle, start it off, and let it go for X amount of time (20 songs). In the meantime, just write.

Of course, this means I have to find something to write about.


Went to a party Saturday night, some sort of combination mother/daughter going-away/birthday celebration for friends of friends and such. It's good to meet new people provided the people are nice. They were. There was this woman there; I suspect an oh-so-innocent setup attempt involving boss's wife. I have no problem playing along in this case.

Was pulled out to the OC (this not this) by lil' sis last night, sitting and talking and seeing drama between another one of the hoT girls and her sister and more. Overall, an enjoyable night with a good band (even if they do feel the need to go by other names a la half of U2).

Feeling tired, sort of strung-out. It's not the bad kind, but a rest from activities is still called for. This weekend. Or maybe next week.

Turns out there really isn't much to write about.

( th' meme )

mood:   pleased music:   The Postal Service - Brand New Colony [in head]

My sister's birthday is coming up. Actually, both of my sisters' birthdays are coming up, them being six days apart and all. Now, I'm not much for getting all worked up over one certain day and ignoring the rest, but I have something special. Well, I have something special for Sis. I don't know about lil' sis yet.

( check it out )

mood:   hungry music:   Elvis Costello - Tear Off Your Own Head [in head]

My father had his first colonoscopy today, and let me tell you a jury assembly room is not the only place I sit around and do nothing. That man was kept waiting for some time, and I was right there along with him in case he needed anything more than a ride home after. The good news is it all went well. The bad news is nonexistent.

Some people might not be fully aware of what humor is. This is humor: You're having a chat with your father (who is still feeling the effects of morphine) when he pauses, lets out a massive fart, and says "Doctor's orders."

mood:   blah music:   David Bowie - Life on Mars? [in head]

Yesterday, music store and bookstore. The music store was not very helpful, seeing as they don't have a very large sheet music section. It takes a larger-than-average section, it seems, to provide sheet music that doesn't cater to the masses. Who wants to learn more than the first movement of "Das Mondschein"? Who cares about the fugue accompanying Bach's Toccata in D Minor? I do, thanks. Bookstore was a bit better. I didn't go there for music, but they had a three-volume collection of Beethoven's piano sonatas at an attractive price. It's a bit of a problem that they were all sealed so I couldn't see what they looked like, and who thinks it's a good idea to put sheet music in hardback books? What the fuck, people? Anyway, I left the store with (among other things), the latest edition of Strunk & White's The Elements of Style and the 15th edition of The Chicago Manual of Style. Yes, I am a geek.

Today, ophthalmologist. It's been something like four years since I went, so I figured now would be a good time. One of the things I miss so much from childhood visits is the huge multi-prescription magic super glasses machine. I always wanted one of my own. It'd be so much more convenient than going to the doctor for a prescription, wouldn't it? My eyes are pretty much the same as they have been, but he had an idea that might help me out considering my contacts don't exactly match my eyes. (The technical aspects of my eyes: right eye is -2.00, left is -2.50. My glasses match this correctly, obviously, and correct for the very slight astigmatism I have. The contacts I use are -2.25 and have no correction for astigmatism. It's just easier that way.) He gave me contacts that were spot-on, but that comes with increased hassle: I have to not only differentiate between a lens for my right eye and my left, but I must also orient the lens correctly. The pair I'm wearing right now (since the visit) should be tested against my old contacts to see if there is enough of a sight benefit to offset the hassle. I know myself. I am lazy. My old contacts were not bad.

Seen on the road: a truck with a sticker depicting Calvin praying to a cross. What the? Also, more than one transport carrying what looked like highway dividers, but much bigger. I mean, these things were about 1.5 times the length of the average 18-wheeler. And they were not connected vehicles. There was a cab with a small platform supporting one end of the reinforced-concrete structure and another small platform on wheels supporting the other end. From my present reading, I know this concrete/rebar combination is better off being transported in this manner than a huge slab of stone would; the stone would crack under the tension

Stopped off (eventually, as they've been changing locations) at a large music store before heading back to the office. I now have both the entire Moonlight Sonata and the Pathétique. Still no Fugue, though.


That Beethoven collection still sounds good for the price. If only Za's store weren't so far out.

Hate driving.

mood:   drained music:   TMBG - They'll Need a Crane [in head]

Jury duty today. Though I do my civic duty, I don't necessarily enjoy it. I don't necessarily enjoy sitting in the assembly room for hours on end. I don't necessarily enjoy finding a good place to park. I don't necessarily enjoy the presiding judge explaining that every case tried in that particular courthouse is a Class C misdemeanor, though it was somewhat interesting. This time it was made somewhat worthwhile by the fabulously attractive court clerk. As the times before, I was not chosen. It just took four and a half hours to decide on this. At least I got to finish reading ( the memoir I brought. ) It's a pity I didn't bring anything more, actually, but I eventually found a magazine to interest me from those provided, and so I got to learn a bit more about Tycho Brahe.

After being released with six dollars (cash!) in my greedy claws, I went on my way to run an errand or two. Plans were set in motion for things. I also went to Academy where I chuckled at tampons pour les oreilles and choke tube lube. I boggled at the man in front of me at the checkout line, the man who appeared to be buying (among other things) six 48-inch flag torches, or at least that's what the register's readout claimed. I boggled on the way home at the car being driven blithely around town with no hood. I'm a right boggler, I am.

I'm on shift from 6 to midnight. Then I can rest.