Well, technically, dismissed. After sitting around in a room for two hours, my father (I was one of three people who brought lawyers) went up to talk to the prosecuter, who was an attractive (though kind of skinny) young lady, and he explained the case. Then, about half an hour later, the judge came in (here come da judge!) who was actually the head judge of the Newark courts, who was also surprisingly cool. I was the first person called up, and I didn't even have to say anything. The prosecutor moved to dismiss the case, "in the interest of justice." Because, I mean, seriously. Come on! And then she, the judge, and my father said a bunch of legal speak, and then we left! My father mentioned though that it's probably that the place will screw up the paperwork, so I should be wary.
So, technically I guess I didn't "freak the establishment" ... more like I "supplicated nicely to the establishment, at which point in resolved my problem in a surprisingly quick manner." Oh well. Same difference! Subject: Establishment. Status: Freaked.
Then a whole bunch of talk happened about my future. Nothing settled, nothing to discuss.
Also, Jess, your comment is pretty much exactly how I feel about people. Those who know me best find it odd that I have a degree in Anthropology, the study of people, when I seem to hate them so much. Well, I guess they look good on paper. In actuality -- not so much.
Monday
Saturday
Have just seen Garden State .
Follow-up: am listening to "Caring Is Creepy" by the Shins. I will probably be sending some of this music to the Steph. You are warned, the Steph!
Oddly, my review of this film is pretty well stated in Elliot's blog review of this film. It was a really good movie, and funnier than I expected it to be. I walked out of the film feeling rather uplifted, which is strange because I don't actually think the movie was all that uplifting. (Pat, see re: our hypothetical action flick.) Nevertheless, it made me feel good about people in general. Of course, this could just be my typical mood lately. Since I got back from California, I've mentioned to people that I've been in a very chatty mood. The weather has been cool this week, and I've managed to feel just happy sitting around. I've posted a lot, and I've been talking to lots of new people. And liking it . What's next, making new friends? I've just been in a very friendly and cheerful mood of late. Of course, today I also had waves of deep unhappiness and paranoia, which hasn't really happened since I was so integrated in interpersonal relationships before. I realized that I still don't like most people, and I still don't want to know most of them, because most of them are stomach-turning shits. And it was nothing in particular that brought about this realization, either. Just a gradual dawning. Anyway, I hope my mood regulates itself soon, and hopefully in a way that won't leave me open and unsuspecting of hurt and disappointment. ... It was a lot hotter and more humid today.
Further thoughts on the film. This movie almost made me like Natalie Portman again. I liked her in The Professional , or, excuse me, Léon , and in nothing else since. This is not a good track record. I actually feel she's on par with Kirsten Dunst, in the sense that both have a great deal of talent, but rarely give performances befitting that talent. Kirsten has the double advantage of showcasing her talent more often, and having a personality that I feel much more at ease with. Also, the movie, despite being called "Garden State" did not feel or seem to accurately portray New Jersey, which is odd, since it was filmed almost entirely in Essex County, in which I live. Yet there was very little I recognized. At one point, the characters go into Newark, and it looked nothing like the city at all. Only sometimes did it feel "New Jersey-ian" - the architecture of the houses, particularly.
Today, I shamed myself by actually having a foodstuff advertised as "low carb." I feel dirty. But it was also advertised as a high-protein drink, which is why my mother bought it for me. My body is low on protein, as well as sugar, salt, fluids, white blood cells, and blood pressure. Heart rate and thyrois output, however, are up up up! I am, apparently, not a very healthy person. Which is odd, because I feel fine. Unless I feel like I'm going to faint or throw up, which lately is every day. So ... yay!?
Monday I'm going to court, bright and early! I hope that my effort to freak the establishment turn out well.
Oddly, my review of this film is pretty well stated in Elliot's blog review of this film. It was a really good movie, and funnier than I expected it to be. I walked out of the film feeling rather uplifted, which is strange because I don't actually think the movie was all that uplifting. (Pat, see re: our hypothetical action flick.) Nevertheless, it made me feel good about people in general. Of course, this could just be my typical mood lately. Since I got back from California, I've mentioned to people that I've been in a very chatty mood. The weather has been cool this week, and I've managed to feel just happy sitting around. I've posted a lot, and I've been talking to lots of new people. And liking it . What's next, making new friends? I've just been in a very friendly and cheerful mood of late. Of course, today I also had waves of deep unhappiness and paranoia, which hasn't really happened since I was so integrated in interpersonal relationships before. I realized that I still don't like most people, and I still don't want to know most of them, because most of them are stomach-turning shits. And it was nothing in particular that brought about this realization, either. Just a gradual dawning. Anyway, I hope my mood regulates itself soon, and hopefully in a way that won't leave me open and unsuspecting of hurt and disappointment. ... It was a lot hotter and more humid today.
Further thoughts on the film. This movie almost made me like Natalie Portman again. I liked her in The Professional , or, excuse me, Léon , and in nothing else since. This is not a good track record. I actually feel she's on par with Kirsten Dunst, in the sense that both have a great deal of talent, but rarely give performances befitting that talent. Kirsten has the double advantage of showcasing her talent more often, and having a personality that I feel much more at ease with. Also, the movie, despite being called "Garden State" did not feel or seem to accurately portray New Jersey, which is odd, since it was filmed almost entirely in Essex County, in which I live. Yet there was very little I recognized. At one point, the characters go into Newark, and it looked nothing like the city at all. Only sometimes did it feel "New Jersey-ian" - the architecture of the houses, particularly.
Today, I shamed myself by actually having a foodstuff advertised as "low carb." I feel dirty. But it was also advertised as a high-protein drink, which is why my mother bought it for me. My body is low on protein, as well as sugar, salt, fluids, white blood cells, and blood pressure. Heart rate and thyrois output, however, are up up up! I am, apparently, not a very healthy person. Which is odd, because I feel fine. Unless I feel like I'm going to faint or throw up, which lately is every day. So ... yay!?
Monday I'm going to court, bright and early! I hope that my effort to freak the establishment turn out well.
Friday
Ungültiger Datentyp für "
Please advise.
Oh, man, so many things! I added to my tally 7, count 'em, 7 WDers. Because Saren and Harper count as two. Because I was more convinced by their mother. Thanks though, to all those who played.
Technically, I've been on vacation, but I'm totally freaking tired right now. Thursday - plane, navigating Oakland. Friday - flat tire, wedding rehearsal, lost, dinner. Saturday - wedding, hair, carting booze (not in that order). Sunday - sleeping (?), hanging out with Kirk and Mary-Jane and associates until all odd hours. Monday - trying to squeeze in all sightseeing in one day; that is, touring San Fran, car crash, buy memory card, camera breaks, bought a lot of things on Haight. Tuesday - up at 5:30, airline is stupid, Jupe hits Vegas: hung out with the Spish (Sposh? Heeee! SpishSposh), wanted desperately to make up for the fact that I had them hanging out in an airport for hours, more plane, blistering headache, Advil. Wednesday - drive mother to work, wind up not at all utilizing my driving privilege, notified that I am a criminal at large, battery dies, Applebee's, double feature: Spider-Man 2 and The Village. Thursday - boy leaves, Jupe wrestles with spyware, Jupe drinks a lot of iced tea, Jupe considers that it may be time for bed.
Now to expound on the finer points:
Yes, I did say car crash. Don't worry, no one was injured, and no one in my party was at fault. Having not arrived in the hilly city until 1 in the afternoon, the boy and I obtained a cab in the hopes of going to a gun show he wanted to see. ... Alright, alright. Antique arms auction at the honorable Bonham's & Butterfield's. ...Gun show. Anyway! Our cabbie was most affable and delightful. Best. Cab Ride. Ever. Going down a large, 5-lane, one-way street, a large SUV cut in front of us, the woman inside making a left-hand turn from the middle lane. As no one was injured (seriously: No One!) the boy and I (being the sick sick people we happen to be) were very amused, and I took photographs from inside the car and out. I also took a picture of the street sign near where the crash took place. The street was called "DORE" but some ambitious person took some gum and plastered it over the leg of the "R," thus making it "DOPE STREET." And, Dope Street, I will have you know, is a one-way street.
The people I met were truly great people. It struck me about hanging out and Mary-Jane and Kirk's, that, allow I had "met" them only 3 days prior, and yes, the house was a bit unfamiliar, it felt like this was something I did all the time. It just felt natural and familiar, which is kind of weird when you think about it. But, anyway. Annika is still cool, and Will more than meets that standard. Freakishly, he looks precisely like photographs of himself. I determined on this trip that people fall into two categories: people who wind up looking exactly like their pictures, and people who don't. I predicted that Mary-Jane would be the former, and Kirk the later, but I was wrong on both counts. Weird! And finally, the spish. I saw Pat first, because I saw his hair first. We had already wandered through several chambers of the Las Vegas airport, and I wasn't sure when the non-ticket-having people would begin. A second, and I tell you, a second after I stepped foot into the room where they were, my head swung around, saw the hair. I said "That's them. That's totally them." and I was headed in that direction. I have Frodar.
I mentioned what movies I saw because Kirk was asking for my opinion on Spider-Man 2, and I had to tell him that I hadn't seen it yet. I mentioned it expressly so that he can heckle me into saying what I thought of it. You know, when he's not on a honeymoon. Or, I could, just, you know, post my reviews here. If anyone was interested in that sort of thing.
Also, about the criminal business, when I got home I opened a notice from the courts, informing me that there was a warrant out for my arrest, and that to avoid the embarrassment and inconvenience of being arrested (I swear to God!) I should turn myself in and have someone post my $100 bail. Jesus Fucking Christ! Fortunately, I talked with my father both before and after I read this, and he told me to ignore it. As he predicted, today I received another letter from them, mentioning that the bounty on me had been revoked, and that I should appear in court on that day they originally told me I should appear in court. Incidentally, when at the movie theatre, we could have gone right from one film to the next, but I sought out the little ticket dude, and presented him our tickets. As it was remarked - I'm so law abiding. So why am I having to put up with all this?
Finally, the boy helped me clean my computer of spyware. I updated my various programs, and had to delete one really sucky thing by hand. The one from whence my title comes, though, is Xabot, which is, wait for it! , GERMAN, and I have absolutely no idea how to get rid of it, or stop it from giving my Spybot error messages so that it can't finish. Also, my CWShredder is not working, because it has detected a variant form of the CWS trojan, which tries to prevent it from opening. Then it goes all James Bond on me, and tells me it's still able to do the job, but it will cleverly disguise its title bar with a string of random characters so that the bug won't notice it. Sadly, after it tells me this, the program invariably stops responding. Oh well. I've had the computer on nearly straight for the last two days. I will leave it off for a while and see if that makes it more compliant. I also freed about a megabyte of space on it, so it should be giving me thanks.
Also, I tried to call Beth on her birthday, but I realized that I didn't have her number at work, if that's in fact where she was, which I doubt! Anyway, I hope your birthday was very good, Pants.
Ooh, speaking of birthdays, I almost forgot: Happy Birthday to The Love Of My Life.
Oh, man, so many things! I added to my tally 7, count 'em, 7 WDers. Because Saren and Harper count as two. Because I was more convinced by their mother. Thanks though, to all those who played.
Technically, I've been on vacation, but I'm totally freaking tired right now. Thursday - plane, navigating Oakland. Friday - flat tire, wedding rehearsal, lost, dinner. Saturday - wedding, hair, carting booze (not in that order). Sunday - sleeping (?), hanging out with Kirk and Mary-Jane and associates until all odd hours. Monday - trying to squeeze in all sightseeing in one day; that is, touring San Fran, car crash, buy memory card, camera breaks, bought a lot of things on Haight. Tuesday - up at 5:30, airline is stupid, Jupe hits Vegas: hung out with the Spish (Sposh? Heeee! SpishSposh), wanted desperately to make up for the fact that I had them hanging out in an airport for hours, more plane, blistering headache, Advil. Wednesday - drive mother to work, wind up not at all utilizing my driving privilege, notified that I am a criminal at large, battery dies, Applebee's, double feature: Spider-Man 2 and The Village. Thursday - boy leaves, Jupe wrestles with spyware, Jupe drinks a lot of iced tea, Jupe considers that it may be time for bed.
Now to expound on the finer points:
Yes, I did say car crash. Don't worry, no one was injured, and no one in my party was at fault. Having not arrived in the hilly city until 1 in the afternoon, the boy and I obtained a cab in the hopes of going to a gun show he wanted to see. ... Alright, alright. Antique arms auction at the honorable Bonham's & Butterfield's. ...Gun show. Anyway! Our cabbie was most affable and delightful. Best. Cab Ride. Ever. Going down a large, 5-lane, one-way street, a large SUV cut in front of us, the woman inside making a left-hand turn from the middle lane. As no one was injured (seriously: No One!) the boy and I (being the sick sick people we happen to be) were very amused, and I took photographs from inside the car and out. I also took a picture of the street sign near where the crash took place. The street was called "DORE" but some ambitious person took some gum and plastered it over the leg of the "R," thus making it "DOPE STREET." And, Dope Street, I will have you know, is a one-way street.
The people I met were truly great people. It struck me about hanging out and Mary-Jane and Kirk's, that, allow I had "met" them only 3 days prior, and yes, the house was a bit unfamiliar, it felt like this was something I did all the time. It just felt natural and familiar, which is kind of weird when you think about it. But, anyway. Annika is still cool, and Will more than meets that standard. Freakishly, he looks precisely like photographs of himself. I determined on this trip that people fall into two categories: people who wind up looking exactly like their pictures, and people who don't. I predicted that Mary-Jane would be the former, and Kirk the later, but I was wrong on both counts. Weird! And finally, the spish. I saw Pat first, because I saw his hair first. We had already wandered through several chambers of the Las Vegas airport, and I wasn't sure when the non-ticket-having people would begin. A second, and I tell you, a second after I stepped foot into the room where they were, my head swung around, saw the hair. I said "That's them. That's totally them." and I was headed in that direction. I have Frodar.
I mentioned what movies I saw because Kirk was asking for my opinion on Spider-Man 2, and I had to tell him that I hadn't seen it yet. I mentioned it expressly so that he can heckle me into saying what I thought of it. You know, when he's not on a honeymoon. Or, I could, just, you know, post my reviews here. If anyone was interested in that sort of thing.
Also, about the criminal business, when I got home I opened a notice from the courts, informing me that there was a warrant out for my arrest, and that to avoid the embarrassment and inconvenience of being arrested (I swear to God!) I should turn myself in and have someone post my $100 bail. Jesus Fucking Christ! Fortunately, I talked with my father both before and after I read this, and he told me to ignore it. As he predicted, today I received another letter from them, mentioning that the bounty on me had been revoked, and that I should appear in court on that day they originally told me I should appear in court. Incidentally, when at the movie theatre, we could have gone right from one film to the next, but I sought out the little ticket dude, and presented him our tickets. As it was remarked - I'm so law abiding. So why am I having to put up with all this?
Finally, the boy helped me clean my computer of spyware. I updated my various programs, and had to delete one really sucky thing by hand. The one from whence my title comes, though, is Xabot, which is, wait for it! , GERMAN, and I have absolutely no idea how to get rid of it, or stop it from giving my Spybot error messages so that it can't finish. Also, my CWShredder is not working, because it has detected a variant form of the CWS trojan, which tries to prevent it from opening. Then it goes all James Bond on me, and tells me it's still able to do the job, but it will cleverly disguise its title bar with a string of random characters so that the bug won't notice it. Sadly, after it tells me this, the program invariably stops responding. Oh well. I've had the computer on nearly straight for the last two days. I will leave it off for a while and see if that makes it more compliant. I also freed about a megabyte of space on it, so it should be giving me thanks.
Also, I tried to call Beth on her birthday, but I realized that I didn't have her number at work, if that's in fact where she was, which I doubt! Anyway, I hope your birthday was very good, Pants.
Ooh, speaking of birthdays, I almost forgot: Happy Birthday to The Love Of My Life.
Saturday
Oddly, I feel like being candid.
But I don't really feel like doing it here. So this will probably be garbled.
Of the people whom I love but have never met, Anne Rice is at the top of that list. The list is actually very short, and still, she's at the top. It is my fondest wish, in the sense that, if I am ever dying and am granted one final wish, it would would be to meet her and have a conversation with her. This woman and her books were, at one point in my life, a life raft. In 1994, my sister died, and later that year the film Interview With The Vampire was released. Wearing makeup, I easily passed for seventeen and my (living) sister and I went to see it. I like it a wicked great deal and was at this point also introduced to a young Kirsten Dunst. Mrs. Rice had been my (dead) sister's favorite author. She loved her then probably as much as I loved her later. My living sister was also quite fond of her, and gave me the books of hers that she had in her possession. I read The Vampire Lestat when my mother took us to Mexico for the holidays that year. It's probably the main reason why my memory of it isn't as miserable as my sister's.
After a fashion, I finished all her old books and then she released new ones, ones I was able to anticipate beforehand. I felt, and still feel, that the books she wrote in this period were utter crap. But I still read them, and I still found some value in them. In essence, I was fascinated by what she thought on various subjects, I just thought they made lousy book ideas. The sorts of things you should talk about in a conversation at 3 A.M., not publish and subject the unexpecting to. Eventually, this feeling won out in me, and I stopped buying most of her books. Until Blood And Gold. It's the best thing ever, and makes me want to read what she's written since. It's renewed my faith in and admiration of her.
Having finished this self-same book, I started thinking a lot about things that I'm not really talking about here. I decided that it had been too long since I'd kept up with her, and I decided to head over to AnneRice.com for some light (ha!) reading.
On December 9, 2002, while I wasn't paying attention, her husband, Stan Rice, passed away. Of cancer, because, of course. When isn't it? I knew that an art gallery in his name was openned in New Orleans, but I didn't know anything about this. When I read about this, earlier this evening, I cried as if I had known him. The author wrote the following:
Stan Rice was a poet and painter. In 1996, when I was in 8th grade, I had a random artistic moment, and painted swirls in watercolor on a piece of scrap paper. It seemed to be to take the shape of a rabbit, and I accentuated that, and wrote on the back of it a title, "Tragic Rabbit." I thought it was pretty damn good. "Tragic Rabbit" of course, was the title of a poem by Stan Rice. I like it very much, though I didn't really think I understood it. I didn't really know if I was supposed to. But anyway.
I also read a musing by Mrs. Rice on the current state of our country and the world, and I found myself very touched by it. Usually, I roll my eyes and make off-color comments at "celebrity" comments about the war or whatnot. I read an interview with Sharon Stone recently where it was most of what she talked about, and God did she sound like an asshole. But this was substantial, I felt. Perhaps it's because I already know and enjoy her style of writing, or her bend on things. What really caught my attention was her description of people. Good-hearted, struggling, and impassioned. She has written this way in her books about people in eras past, and, in fact, may be just how she she people in general. But she just makes it sound ... quaint.
AnneRice.com
Of the people whom I love but have never met, Anne Rice is at the top of that list. The list is actually very short, and still, she's at the top. It is my fondest wish, in the sense that, if I am ever dying and am granted one final wish, it would would be to meet her and have a conversation with her. This woman and her books were, at one point in my life, a life raft. In 1994, my sister died, and later that year the film Interview With The Vampire was released. Wearing makeup, I easily passed for seventeen and my (living) sister and I went to see it. I like it a wicked great deal and was at this point also introduced to a young Kirsten Dunst. Mrs. Rice had been my (dead) sister's favorite author. She loved her then probably as much as I loved her later. My living sister was also quite fond of her, and gave me the books of hers that she had in her possession. I read The Vampire Lestat when my mother took us to Mexico for the holidays that year. It's probably the main reason why my memory of it isn't as miserable as my sister's.
After a fashion, I finished all her old books and then she released new ones, ones I was able to anticipate beforehand. I felt, and still feel, that the books she wrote in this period were utter crap. But I still read them, and I still found some value in them. In essence, I was fascinated by what she thought on various subjects, I just thought they made lousy book ideas. The sorts of things you should talk about in a conversation at 3 A.M., not publish and subject the unexpecting to. Eventually, this feeling won out in me, and I stopped buying most of her books. Until Blood And Gold. It's the best thing ever, and makes me want to read what she's written since. It's renewed my faith in and admiration of her.
Having finished this self-same book, I started thinking a lot about things that I'm not really talking about here. I decided that it had been too long since I'd kept up with her, and I decided to head over to AnneRice.com for some light (ha!) reading.
On December 9, 2002, while I wasn't paying attention, her husband, Stan Rice, passed away. Of cancer, because, of course. When isn't it? I knew that an art gallery in his name was openned in New Orleans, but I didn't know anything about this. When I read about this, earlier this evening, I cried as if I had known him. The author wrote the following:
I was married to Stan for 41 years. As far as I'm concerned, he died young. I don't even know what the world is going to be like for me without Stan. It's been "Stan and Anne" for so long that I have no concept of it. I'll go on writing, of course. Because one of the great things about being a writer is that you can write in sorrow, in grief, and anguish. You can use your emotions to make something constructive, and something perhaps that will remove these things for someone else.
Stan Rice was a poet and painter. In 1996, when I was in 8th grade, I had a random artistic moment, and painted swirls in watercolor on a piece of scrap paper. It seemed to be to take the shape of a rabbit, and I accentuated that, and wrote on the back of it a title, "Tragic Rabbit." I thought it was pretty damn good. "Tragic Rabbit" of course, was the title of a poem by Stan Rice. I like it very much, though I didn't really think I understood it. I didn't really know if I was supposed to. But anyway.
I also read a musing by Mrs. Rice on the current state of our country and the world, and I found myself very touched by it. Usually, I roll my eyes and make off-color comments at "celebrity" comments about the war or whatnot. I read an interview with Sharon Stone recently where it was most of what she talked about, and God did she sound like an asshole. But this was substantial, I felt. Perhaps it's because I already know and enjoy her style of writing, or her bend on things. What really caught my attention was her description of people. Good-hearted, struggling, and impassioned. She has written this way in her books about people in eras past, and, in fact, may be just how she she people in general. But she just makes it sound ... quaint.
AnneRice.com
Thursday
Tests of manual dexterity have no place in adventure gaming.
To be fair, I am actually, for an avid video game player, really bad at video games. In addition to my many other problems, I have always suspected that I have really bad hand-eye coordination, or at least bad depth-perception, or something like that. My hands, which are very good and precise when it comes to artsy crap (although, as anyone who has received a letter from me in the past year or so knows, my penmanship has become distressing abyssmal), are useless at working complex controllers. I first had this problem whilst I was playing, I believe it was Sonic 3 on Sega Genesis. The one with the 3D bonus levels in which one could obtain the Chaos Emeralds. It took me so long how to figure out how to do it with any level of skill. By the time N64 came out, I had no hope of playing the games on it, though I had mastered many games on Playstation, Resident Evil 2 notwithstanding. Yet, at some point, I have to stop believing that it's me, and I need to start believing that the game in question just hates me. I mean, how close to I have to get to have a bullseye?!?!
Incidentally, it seems that my ftp is finally working again. (Yay!!!) So perhaps this weekend I will clean up my webspace.
Besides this evening, which has been rather trying, I had a really great day today. I was in such a terrific mood. The only thing that almost ruined it was the people, but I just couldn't stop grinning like an idiot all day. I think it's because it wasn't a million degrees today. I am not a fan of the heat.
The following is a list of movies that, for some reason or another, I really desire to see in the theaters:
Spider-Man 2
Napolean Dynamite
Harold And Kumar Go To White Castle
The Village
Anchorman: The Legend Of Ron Burgundy
Maria Full Of Grace
The movies I really have no desire to see are as follows:
Everything else.
In other news, at the end of the month, Phantom Planet are playing at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park. I should totally try to go see that, shouldn't I?
Incidentally, it seems that my ftp is finally working again. (Yay!!!) So perhaps this weekend I will clean up my webspace.
Besides this evening, which has been rather trying, I had a really great day today. I was in such a terrific mood. The only thing that almost ruined it was the people, but I just couldn't stop grinning like an idiot all day. I think it's because it wasn't a million degrees today. I am not a fan of the heat.
The following is a list of movies that, for some reason or another, I really desire to see in the theaters:
Spider-Man 2
Napolean Dynamite
Harold And Kumar Go To White Castle
The Village
Anchorman: The Legend Of Ron Burgundy
Maria Full Of Grace
The movies I really have no desire to see are as follows:
Everything else.
In other news, at the end of the month, Phantom Planet are playing at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park. I should totally try to go see that, shouldn't I?
Wednesday
Oh crap, I'm old.
So I was watching Access Hollywood, as is occasionally my wont because my mother always has it on, even though she claims to be disdainful of celebrity nonsense. (PWI) They featured a segment on this chap, who is apparently popular and successful in several fields, and goes by the name of "Nick Cannon."
Here is my dilemma. I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THIS PERSON. Never! This is my first experience of ever hearing or learning anything about this person. Why is this a problem? Well, I wouldn't exactly call my self well versed in the popular culture of this, our common era. However, I am always at least aware of the *names* of people who are famous, even if I do not know why they are so. The fact that this person has (supposedly) accrued a respectable amount of public interest, and yet I STILL HAVE NO CLUE WHO HE IS is greatly distressing and disorienting. It may mark my decline into geriatric stuppor.
In other news, my ARTHRITIS is doing fine, thanks. In what is most likely a side-effect of some new drugs I am taking, this past week my legs were feeling very sore and stiff, and I was having pain in my hips. It was very unpleasant as I am used to unhindered leg mobility. How do people live without bending their legs into pretzels for comfort? Anyway, I saw my doctor last night for my (still present) respiratory infection, and that when I was introduced to the term "arthritis" as it applies to me. He said it's very uncommon for someone my age. ... You think? He laid the blame on the feet of this new medication. As it is, I did not take that particular drug yesterday, and I loaded up on Advil, and I feel perfectly fine now. That was weird.
I've begun to wonder if I have some kind of rapid aging disease. Today was not a very good day. I broke a glass and lost my sunglasses, among other sundry unpleasantries.
Unrelated to all that, there's a book I read many years ago now (it's not important that I mention what it is, as I know for a fact that no one reading this has read it) which I was recently reminded had a character in it that I liked a great who was described as lying on a floor listening to music on headphones. The thing is, I haven't read the book in a while, yes? I can't, as it is, recall if that actually happened in the book, or if I made it up. Worrying that the answer may be the latter, I have thus far neglected to search for the book amidst was is no doubt tons of crap in boxes. I probably only thought of it because my brain is railing against things I should be focusing on instead.
End bizzare entry.
Here is my dilemma. I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THIS PERSON. Never! This is my first experience of ever hearing or learning anything about this person. Why is this a problem? Well, I wouldn't exactly call my self well versed in the popular culture of this, our common era. However, I am always at least aware of the *names* of people who are famous, even if I do not know why they are so. The fact that this person has (supposedly) accrued a respectable amount of public interest, and yet I STILL HAVE NO CLUE WHO HE IS is greatly distressing and disorienting. It may mark my decline into geriatric stuppor.
In other news, my ARTHRITIS is doing fine, thanks. In what is most likely a side-effect of some new drugs I am taking, this past week my legs were feeling very sore and stiff, and I was having pain in my hips. It was very unpleasant as I am used to unhindered leg mobility. How do people live without bending their legs into pretzels for comfort? Anyway, I saw my doctor last night for my (still present) respiratory infection, and that when I was introduced to the term "arthritis" as it applies to me. He said it's very uncommon for someone my age. ... You think? He laid the blame on the feet of this new medication. As it is, I did not take that particular drug yesterday, and I loaded up on Advil, and I feel perfectly fine now. That was weird.
I've begun to wonder if I have some kind of rapid aging disease. Today was not a very good day. I broke a glass and lost my sunglasses, among other sundry unpleasantries.
Unrelated to all that, there's a book I read many years ago now (it's not important that I mention what it is, as I know for a fact that no one reading this has read it) which I was recently reminded had a character in it that I liked a great who was described as lying on a floor listening to music on headphones. The thing is, I haven't read the book in a while, yes? I can't, as it is, recall if that actually happened in the book, or if I made it up. Worrying that the answer may be the latter, I have thus far neglected to search for the book amidst was is no doubt tons of crap in boxes. I probably only thought of it because my brain is railing against things I should be focusing on instead.
End bizzare entry.
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