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You know, I completely forgot how amusing a good (un)healthy dose of sleep deprivation could be. Sure, waking up from a scant half hour of sleep isn't very much fun, but once you're motile, you can get the most amusing side-effects. One of these mornings (I haven't the foggiest which one, they're all sort of hunkered in a corner of my head in an untidy melange), I completely lost all sense of causality. Felt refreshed, then took a shower. Got thirsty immediately after drinking water. And so forth. It was disconcerting, but it's amazing what you can take for granted when your mind is that souffled. As experiences in negentropic universes go, it was fairly benign. If I could actually bottle my fatigue poisons and sell them as a drug, I wonder if I'd have any takers.

Speaking of causality gone awry, I got a Social Distortion popping into my head for no good reason, and it's making me slightly glum (Dear lover. I can't take the pain no more. Dear lover. I pick my heart up from the floor. Dear lover. I can't believe it's come to this. Dear lover. Give me one last painful kiss), though I have absolutely no reason to be. Silly lyrics, my mood is meant to dictate to you, not vice versa. I am having flashes of High Fidelity quotes (Which came first? The music, or the misery?). Random lyrical outbursts of ennui notwithholding though, I continue to be in a damn fine state of mind.

Shmoo, so much shmoo. I will cover book shmoo first. I finished the Brin series. I liked it, though like most of his stuff, it's wide open for sequels that will probably never get written. It's got an amusing chunk of pseudo reality in it also. E-level hyperspace, which consists of freeroaming memes. Here's a quote - The creature turned its metaphorical gaze, and proceeded to spit poison. Gobbets flew toward the station - presumably cogent explanations meant to convince Harry's vessel not to exist anymore.. I want an allaphor of my very own. Though I'm not sure what I'd want an allaphor of. I will ponder. I think mainly I want to visit so I can watch the hamster dance and all your base are belong to us duke it out in semi-tangible manner.

I started reading Gravity's Rainbow also, but my sleep befuzzed head is not really capable of coping with it at the moment. It's like it's coated in teflon and I've worn all of the tread off of my eyeballs. I will return to it after I've gotten a good weeks worth of sleep and am feeling up to the challenge. Instead I'm reading more Philip K. Dick. Valis to be precise. I'm not loving it as much as most of his other stuff, but maybe that's just because I've never been extraordinarily fascinated with gnostic christianity, into which it dips frequently.

Why is smoked mozarella so bad? It's profane. Yummy tasty mozarella cheese transubstantiated into horrible glorp. Needless to say I'm never getting that sandwich again. Said sandwich was purchased at a lunch with new coworkery friend who stumbled across my LJ via mutual friends. Excitement.

I've been making all sorts of new friends at EA actually. I've been going down to hang out with people on other projects more, mainly because the whole cubicle wall gap between the new people (me and three others) and the rest of the team makes it hard to interact. Easier to interact than say, walking downstairs I suppose, but there's just too much boy energy in there. Counterstrike counterstrike counterstrike. Bleh. I wonder what percentage of my friends are female. More than average I'm sure. I'm such a bad heterosexual male. I keep expecting a strike force of sweating overly-hairy men to burst through the door, snatch away my membership card and send me off to some horrible gulag until I learn how to make gay jokes, and care enough about my standing on first person shooters to curse loudly about it.

More randomness. I got new movies thanks to the glories of the EA for sale list. Cheapy cheap. Picked up Better Tomorrow 2 (With *Chow*. He's so dreamy! Oh wait, I think I hear the Stereotypical Male Brigade bringing the battering ram to bear, I better be quiet about that now) and Prince of Darkness, which I know I've watched, but don't really remember much about.

I think I need to go to a club again soon. I miss seeing the group of people I see there, and I really don't like the fact that I haven't gotten a chance to really dance in a while. Maybe I'll see about heading up this monday, considering I haven't signed on to work till after midnight this week. I was listening to Underworld earlier this week and a snippet of lyrics reminded me that I do miss the feeling of walking around late at night (Night, the city loves you. City loves a boyfriend, love walks with the boyfriend, the city loves a boyfriend, friends walking with the boyfriend, and the night's with the boyfriend, and the city loves you loves you loves you loves everyone, everyone is smiling. The smiling is pushing it around, is pushing it around like the shadows in the evolution in the dark...) and so on and so forth. It's really hard to stop quoting Moaner once you've started, it just keeps rolling along so well.

Wow, in angry retort against quoting music I actually like, my implike subconscious just tossed She loves the nightlife, she loves to boogie into the internal cd-changer. Why must parts of my head hate me so much?

Ok, toddling off now I think. Looking back at this entry, it's funny just how much my writing style varies in between posts. At least it's funny to me. Ok, here's a random poll for those who know me. How much correlation is there between the me I put forth in my journal, and the me you see wandering around? Inquiring minds want to know.