So two of my friends got really good news this week, and now I’m hoping it’s my turn. (And soon, because my microwave just stopped working!)
Category: My So-Called Life
Dream On
I told my best friend a few weeks ago that I felt “very strongly” her husband should see a cardiologist. (I’d had a dream where I saw him having a heart attack.) She told him, but he laughed it off — he’s as healthy as the proverbial horse.
Until last week, when he collapsed and woke up to his cousin performing CPR. “Dude, I thought you were dead,” he told him. “You weren’t breathing.”
Pure coincidence, of course! Because otherwise, it wouldn’t be logical.
More Fun With Mercury Retrograde
I have a small glass stuck deep in my garbage disposal. Is it safe to turn it on to break it up, I wonder?
Achoo
Boy, I’ve been sneezing up a storm the past few days. What am I allergic to now? Next month is leaf mold, that’s usually the worst time for me.
Accident Scene
I went to Will Bunch’s book signing at the Rittenhouse Square Barnes & Noble last night, and then my friend and I went over to Drinking Liberally at Jose Pistola’s (I hadn’t even seen the new place).
On the way there, we saw a sad little episode: A sharp-looking elderly woman, dining al fresco with her husband, who had some kind of accident falling off her chair. She couldn’t move, and all I could think about was how vulnerable they are at that age — that one minute, they’re independent and happy, and the next they have a fracture that’s the beginning of a downward spiral. (Let’s just say I felt great empathy for her.) Poor thing.
Update
The CD’s finally out of my computer, and the speakers are hooked up again. All’s right with the world!
Or almost all. You could read this piece by Astrobarry if you’re feeling squeezed lately and you’re interested in the long-term astrological weather.
@#%*!
Fucking Mercury retrograde. I knew I wouldn’t get through unscathed.
Last night I was trying to rip a CD (The Swimmers, on Maddragonrecords, a professional national label run locally by Drexel University), a pretty good CD.
It got stuck. It overshot the CD tray. I’ve now spent about two hours total trying to lure the thing out of there — tantalizingly close, but no cigar. I even clamped onto it with a pair of pliers, but it wouldn’t budge.
And now I can’t find the cable that reconnects my speakers. Grrr.
Programming
You are what you consume. Is that true? It sort of feels right. I no longer watch “important” movies if they’re hopelessly violent or nihilistic (although I will note here that I think “Fight Club” is neither of those things), and I rarely watch horror movies anymore. I don’t want to flood my system with adrenaline; I’m trying to balance it.
As a singer, I often listen to songs I’d like to sing. Unfortunately, for women vocalists, that far too often falls into the category of “boo hoo”, crying-in-my-beer songs that are, frankly, more than a little depressing. So am I listening to these songs because I’m depressed, or am I depressed from listening to these songs? I think because I’m a writer, and so susceptible to word imagery, that I can wring out every last drop of resonance out of those depressing songs. Is that good for me? Probably not.
Because when I make a conscious effort to listen to more positive, upbeat music, I seem to feel a lot better.
What’s your experience? How does it affects you?
What I Did On My Summer Vacation
It rained for the first three days, so mostly I read and watched a lot of DVDs (including a pretty bad Robert Downey Jr. one called “Restoration,” which you may safely leave off your list of movies to see before you die.) My last night there, watched “On The Waterfront.” There’s a reason Marlon Brando is a legend. And I finally got through the first season of “American Dreams,” which I got last Christmas, I think.
My friend Michael drive up from D.C. to visit. He called before he left and asked me what I forgot to bring. (He knows me so well.) I told him I forgot to bring my laptop — although there’s no internet connection, I had my tunes on there — and that I would kill for a shower cap.
Turns out he went to three different stores to try to find a shower cap — now, that’s a good friend. He also brought along a portable speaker for my iPhone, which solved the music problem.
We finally had a couple of good beach days at the end of the week, so I got to go swimming.
Mostly, I discovered that it’s still possible for me to do one thing at a time. And that my arms hurt just as bad as if I’d never gone away at all. Oh well!
P.S. Michael brought his iPad and got me addicted to Angry Birds.
Hi Honey
I’m home! Still unpacking….