These are, as far as I know, unrelated, and none of them really merit their own post, so I'll just toss them all together.
- I've been thinking of the word "circumvent" lately. In the most specific sense, how I would attempt to depict it in Pictionary, which I played with some of the housemates a couple weeks ago. Except "circumvent" never cam up, and a lot of the times, it's not even that, the word just pops into to my mind, no connection to whatever else I was mulling over.
- I was listening to some music earlier this afternoon, on my Pandora Avant Garde Jazz station. The thing I feel like I notice about a lot of the songs is the background instruments that only come in occasionally, and how a lot of times I think they're actually a random noise from my surroundings. One of the songs I was listening to had something in the background that I thought was the blinds smacking against the window frame. I find that kind of distracting, but maybe it would be less so if I weren't listening to the music while reading blogs. Maybe jazz demands/requires my full attention to work.
- Problem with pleasant spring days like today is that the wasps are out, and they keep flying in my window. No, there's no screening, and no, that's not my fault. I don't really have anything against wasps, since they don't seem interested in stinging me, but if I let them hang out in here, next thing you know they're building nests, and with lots of wasps, the possibility I unintentionally rile them up and get stung increases, so I've had to kill three intruders already. Or was it four? I've been at this so long, the deaths have all started to blur together. . .
- Dream last night involved Peter Parker in prison, acting as a hitman for the Kingpin. Despite being in prison, was able to wear a John Travolta style Saturday Night Fever, white jacket and pants over a black shirt combo, accessorized with an Uzi on a strap slung over his shoulder outside the jacket. Subtle, Pete. Also, Pete walked up to some person (the guy he was meant to kill?) and said 'Fat Eddie's back', and he was referring to himself. Furthermore, it looked as though it was drawn by Frank Miller, circa his work on Daredevil.
- Still an improvement from the preceding dream, where I was engaged in a rooftop rifle shootout with John Malkovich's character from In The Line of Fire. Considering that "Booth" was more than a match for Clint Eastwood, I guess my dream self should feel lucky he didn't get shot, and stopped Booth from killing whoever it was he was after this time.
- Did anyone else see the article on Todd Marinovich in Esquire? That was some kind of crazy stuff, especially his story about the guy who injured himself in a pickup game, then started dying when Todd gave him some heroin for the pain, and Todd swears he could see the guy's spirit leaving his body. I agree with the person I saw discussing it on Deadspin: at least Marinovich isn't trying to blame anyone else for the less than exemplary path his life has taken. It seems like I should feel worse for him, but it seems like he did so much of it to himself, and I have friends who had worse hands dealt to them, that handled them better, it's kind of hard. Be nice if he could actually get himself straightened out and stay that way long enough to help some people avoid the way he went
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I have that same problem with some of my music. I'll be sitting there doing whatever and I'll start looking around trying to find out who's sneaking into my room or tapping on the window. It's distracting...
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