naked eye
05.04.03 @ 6:12 p.m.
I'm in an odd, sappily romantic mood. No particular reason. Just read some extremely mushy P&P fic. Heaven forbid I do anything resembling work. Never mind that my library books are due on Tuesday and I need to glean as much info from them as possible for class, never mind that I have scads of Philosophy reading to catch up on so that I can write a paper by Wednesday... I suppose I'll at least start chipping away at the philosophy when I'm done here. Let's hope I can be that diligent, yes?
I've noticed that a Sunday means everyone trying to take a shower in the early afternoon. I don't know if they all just like to laze around in the morning like me or if they've been asleep that long. For my part, it was because I had gone to the gym at noon and by one fifteen or so I was feeling sweaty and gross. And kind of tired. I waited a while, though, because everyone else was taking a shower. So I sat around in my bathrobe listening to Who's Next and messing about online. I did essentially the same thing after the shower, too. I don't know what it is about Sundays that make me so very lazy and languid about doing anything. Squeezing every last bit of relaxation out of the weekend even though I'm the type that does as little work as humanly possible through the rest of the week as well. You should see me now, stretched out on my bed with the laptop on my pillow. If my lower back weren't starting to annoy me, I'd stay like this forever. I'm such a lump.
Hmm, now for yesterday's observations that I left out in my last entry. First, I don't know if I mentioned that my parents bought a pick up for themselves, but my mom keeps mistakenly referring to it as mine, when I know I won't get to take it next year (provided I've gotten of my arse and learned to drive). Dad says he's been looking at sedans for me, which I start to wonder about now when he's been complaining about the dire financial straights the school system crisis is bound to send us into. He exaggerates. The job market in this state, however, is dreadful. Also, a show dog that ran away from our property last week was found through an amazing series of coincidences and luck, though my dad claimed that things almost always turn out well for him so he wasn't that worried. Hah. Like I believe that one. Next weekend I'm headed north with Dad to the German Shepherd National show. Fun fun, we're taking Billy, Sassy, and maybe Sally. Sassy is a freak show, but Billy is just the most lovable, charismatic dog I've ever seen. And dad says he's huge now, strongest dog he's ever had. Still, I do not look forward to Sassy's bad-temperment panic attacks. I wish the stereo in my dad's van worked, I'd blast "Goin' Mobile" to inagurate the road trip.
There's a store at Gateway Mall now called "Magikal Gardaen." Is it some longing to go back to Old English that encourages creative mispelling? Is it too mainstream to spell things properly? I know I have a predilection for British spellings, but really people. This is in the range of the bathetic. Would it be cruel of me to suggest that k's and ae's ellict a pavolovian response in wiccans and goths? I know I should know better to make such sweeping generalizations, but it was just too amusing for me to let it pass. What was truly funny, though, was seeing the little indierock hipster slouching along and throwing paranoid looks over his shoulder while he followed his girlfriend, who was, when I passed, appreciatively holding out a dress.
I wonder what I looked like, the way I kept whipping out my little notebook to write things down.
During the previews, I was even writing stuff down. Mostly I was shocked that the Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go" was being used in the upcoming Rugrats/Wild Thornberrys crossover. Eegad. What must Joe Strummer think? Speaking of Joe Strummer, I vaguely understand "The Right Profile" now that I looked up Montgomery Clift on IMDb.
Against all expectations, Pirates of the Carribean doesn't look nearly as dreadful as I imagined a movie based off a theme park ride must necessarily be. I will even admit that seeing Orlando Bloom again made me understand some of the mad Legolas-love surrounding the LotR movies. Again, speaking of, I went past a sword shop (I must say that I think the purchase of fantasy swords or really any swords as decorative objects, if you do not live in a historic English manor house (and even then, the fantasy ones are terribly inappropriate,) you should not be buying swords. That gets out of the range of endearingly dorky into... well, no longer cool. (Unless of course YOU buy swords, anonymous reader. My inherent coolness just rubs off on you by association. A ha ha, no need to get offended or anything.)(This is funny because I am not cool at all.) I know I'm an obsessive geek but I think I keep it out of scary and within the bounds of cool, or at least socially acceptible. It doesn't hurt that my geekdom takes nice, safe, mainstream directions, like Star Wars and classic rock.) Where was I? Oh yeah, the sword place near Emporium at Gateway. They had a bunch of LotR cutouts standing around the entrance and I got a hilarious mental image of Leah taking the Aragorn cutout and running.
One last thing. I think that when an overly boisterous middle aged white man is going around telling every hispanic and latino that he sees that he'll see them down at the cinco de mayo festival, brother, yeah, it's almost just the nice form of racism. I'm Irish but I'm not going to go out and get madly plastered every March.
Now my CD player is changing on me, and as Roger Daltrey gives way to Joe Strummer, I will give way to studying and end here.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
