call me lightning
02.13.04 @ 11:39 p.m.
It does me no favors that my father's very considerate gift is a great big pile of chocolate. Naughty dad. Naughty me for having eaten so much of it already.
In spite of being a 'hopeless romantic,' I am not going to bemoan the greeting card holiday. That's just petty. Tomorrow is my aunt's birthday, and I would perhaps be betters served finding an appropriate e-card for her. Maybe that barrel of monkeys one from Hallmark.com that I sent to Moni last November.
I skipped Italian today in favor of coming home two hours earlier. I did go to economics discussion where I understood what was being explained (finally) and redesigned an important prop in an old story of mine several times over. I decided late last night that I wasn't going to come back to the house for anything and just decided to haul my weekend's worth of clothes with me to class. Today went remarkably well for a Friday the 13th, really. I had Subway for lunch and even managed to get there before the insane noon rush where they run out of bread and what have you. The tomatoes were bad, but you can't have it all. Picked up a couple of things from the bookstore, took the bus to the Amtrak station. I thought about stopping at the library and picking up another Father Ted video, but it looks like we'll hardly have the time to watch the one I did pick up.
I read a lot of time reading Sometimes a Great Notion, which I just today found out exists in movie form. With Paul Neuman! Wheee. And I hardly made a dent in the fucker, not even with two hours of reading. I will die before I finish this novel. Why, Ken, why run three or four storylines concurrently, even in the same paragraph? Why did we need to flashback to Hank Stamper and the bobcats right in the middle of Leeland crossing the Wakonda Auga so that it took dozens of pages? And yet you make me nostalgic for Oregon when I'm here all the time. Or maybe just for the woodlands around my house. Wet woods and mad thickets of Himalayan blackberry vines. The scenery from the car driving to Tillamook with Martha.
I get far too philosophical while on long bus rides. I shall spare you.
Concert updates: I think for now I have plans to go to see Jet and the Vines on a Monday in April and the Strokes on the following Friday. I asked Martha to return my Ryan Adams ticket in exchange for the Jet/Vines date. More concertage than I'm used to, but that's a good thing. I think of all the fantastic concerts my dad went to when he was my age, and I'm jealous. "Oh yeah, I saw Hendrix. And Zeppelin, too, before they were big." Zep was opening for someone with a name I can't remember. Vanilla Fudge, possibly. The openers outshone the main act, he tells me. Hendrix was a disappointingly short set.
What the hell, "Taxi" is on in the middle of the night in PDX now? Uh, okay.
On the puppy front, my dog is in heat and will be carted up to Washington for a torrid canine one night stand. Jubee, a German Shepherd who never forgot that I held her for hours in my lap on her first day at our kennel even when I didn't like her that much and didn't give her the love she deserved, a dog with tremendous personality, will be bred to our current all-star, Billy. He is a dog that just exudes charisma. It's impossible not to love him. Fuzzy heaps of adorability. I am too old to be all floofy about puppies, but I keep having dreams about them.
Strange.
Tomorrow, I'll spend a lot of time not doing much, probably reading more Kesey. And copying the CDs that send my computer into seizures in the trusty old iMac. A Quick One, Headquarters. Perhaps I will spend my afternoon working on two projects, maybe three: My Who Singles collection for myself, which is one of the reasons I'm copying AQO, the grand Who mix for Candace, and maybe a mix for my mom, which I intended to give her for Valentines, but then I feel kind of bad because my dad is being so nice and I don't have anything for him, unless I think up a mix for him, too. The Singles collection is really just a collection of the singles I already have as a good way to listen to the songs I don't listen to that often, like "Call Me Lightning" and "Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere." Those are on Greatest Hits, yeah, but "Dogs" and "Relay" aren't. Or "I'm the Face."
Guh, tired.
Edit/Amendment: Perhaps I will not embark on a singles collection, as looking at the Who Tab Archives shows that just about every damn song was a single.
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
