Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
"I clogged the bathroom sink this morning by pouring cereal down it." -Anna M, 06/18/2008
Went out last night to a "Solstice Party" in the brownlands. Campfire, comradery, beer. Hot dogs, marshmallows, cookies shaped like pigs. Looking at the city, trying to look at the stars, getting a little homesick. Looking at the fire, cooking at the fire, getting a little burnt. Getting a little bug-bitten. Walking home, because it was such a nice night. Taking a shower, because I stank of smoke so bad I could smell it myself, and because Brian and his 'sailor friend' weren't back from the birthday party yet.
When I get out of the shower, they're home and turning in. I see a purse on the counter; it's the same one as last time. Mystery Girl strikes again.
I hope she liked my shower-rendition of "Cordova".
Friday
"I wouldn't cook my baby!" -Laura, 06/17/2008
I enjoyed listening to The Hold Steady a lot more a week ago.
Though I should by cleaning and preparing to move the contents of my physical environment, I have instead spent some time cleaning up and transferring (with the help of the really quite nice robots I built) old log entries to the new system. The earliest available post is now this one from late second year. Hoo-ray, antiquity! I was told recently that when there's nothing to do in the summer, reading the entire archives of a person's website is just the thing. Creepy as that is, I'll see what I can do to get it all online once more.
"They both fell from heaven; the difference was where they would land."
Monday, fifth week after Pentecost
Friends! I once more have a working cellophone! Call me.
Thursday
"BLOG ABOUT A DREAM, TRY TO MAKE IT REAL!"
I woke up with my mouth hurting like I'd been grinning from ear to ear all night long. Perhaps I had; what I remember of my dreams were pretty terrific. But most memorable was what I'll call 'The Hospital Scene'. Upon waking, I reflected upon this scene, and concluded that, though perhaps the events unfolding around us were not entirely realistic, our reactions to them were spot-on (which I find notable, since as often as not, my dream-reaction to things is to climb a tall building through its ventilation system and then jump off it). Traveling with a large group of people, we had to stop overnight at a hospital, because a few of us needed some small amount of medical attention. While we were there, word apparently got around the hospital that Joel was there with us. As we waited for news of our friends, we were instead surprised when Joel was congratulated, and told that nineteen women had claimed him as the father of their child.
So now, the reactions start. First we go "blebedehuh?" for a while, scrambling to figure this out. Finally, it is discovered that an eccentric and charismatic billionaire had persuaded hundreds of women, on national television, to claim that Joel was their babydaddy. We reacted to this news the same way we would've in real life: Joel immediately began casting about for some whiskey, and I joined him. After drinking quite a lot of whiskey, we staggered into the hospital lobby, where a dance was going on. We tried to dance, but we were both trying to lead, so it didn't work so well. Then I wore a tomato slice as a monocle. Eventually, the rest of our group dragged us out of there, and we essentially ran away from the problem.
Hmm, so now I'm that guy that blogs about his dreams. And maybe it doesn't sound so fantastic written out like this, but it was, oh it was. This is only a small piece of a long and engaging epic, after all.
Monday
"Use more honey! Find out what she knows!"
So I did some things in real life, like go to a concert for five minutes. I respect the guy who recommended it to me (and, hey, it was free), but one of us has terrible taste in music. There were too many people in beards. The walk around the neighborhood was nice, at least.
And now I'll see what I can do to keep comments from being spammed. Everyone's up for a little math, right?
Third Sunday after Pentecost
Another Sunday spent in Hyde Park, getting fed and hanging out, taking in the sights of the old stomping ground. Another Scavenparty last night, lots of licking and lifting. Not a lot of mixers. Lime Jell-O and gin? For the win!
In the past two days, one spam comment and one possible spam comment made it past my (admittedly fairly simple) security measures. I may have to take... actions. Yes. Or I could keep reading Wikipedia. FOREVER.
Second Sunday after Pentecost
So many barbeques! I cannot understand what possesses people to barbeque all on the same day. They were everywhere, everywhere. Coming home at ten, some neighbors were sitting around the fire in their yard, singing -and this is the part that really weirded me out- They Might Be Giants songs. I mean... yes. Words fail me.
Also I successfully tricked someone into cutting half my hair off! So good at plotting!
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