(no subject)

Hi. I'm on lunch break. It's 9:30 pm. There's something singularly unholy about this. Came in today at noon, got told that there wasn't in fact a build waiting for us, and we should just come back at 6:00 pm. Exactly the thing you want to hear after spending a good hour and a half getting to work in the first place. Fortunately Starr saw me walking and gave me a ride the last stretch of the way to work. Yay for Starr. Also yay to my team-mate Dave who gave me a ride back to Palo Alto while killing time until 6. Also, while I'm doing work related yays, yay for Danielle being lent to my project. It only took her two days to hate this game. She's clearly much quicker on the uptake than I am. Anyway, on break I was planning on going back to Dan's and doing some laundry, but instead I went shopping, because I'm just that dumb.

Went looking mainly for Salton Sea and Lethem's Gun With Occasional Music. Found Salton Sea, but alas, no GWOM. Instead picked up another book of his, Amnesia Moon, which I've dutifully added to my queue of books awaiting reading. I just remembered recently that I wanted to buy Gun With Occasional Music some six odd years ago, but never got around to it (penniless college student and all that jazz). Don't quite know what triggered the sudden urge to purchase it again. Maybe I had a dream about it.

Speaking of, I had one of those dreams this morning that's pretty much completely indistinguishable from reality, other than the fact that you're fully aware that you're dreaming (We'll ignore the fact that I sometimes stumble around reality being fully aware that I'm dreaming). I remember something occured in my dream, some conversation I wasn't meant to be privy to, that I was sure would prove incredibly enlightening if it turned out to be true back in waking life. Of course when I woke up, I couldn't remember what it was. So ends my brief career as an oneiromancer. I'm further dissapointed that this was the first dream I've had in several months that I recalled at all upon waking. Shame that it was so uninteresting.

I've been on this early electronica kick recently, mainly triggered by Club Verboten out at Burning Man, playing all the greatest Kraftwerk, Tangerine Dream, etc. I went out and grabbed Kraftwek's Radio-Active, which of course doesn't have quite the version of Radioactivity I'm looking for, and my mind wobbles at the futility of trying to track down one particular version of a song that probably pegs out at almost half a headhunter on my quantities of remix metric. Also been listening to lots of OMD, mainly Enola Gay over and over and over again. I have this really bad habit of DJing my CD's to death, just picking one song I like and playing it constantly. It's not that I don't like the other songs, I just that I like that one more, so why not just listen to it ad infinitum? I do the same thing with food. I'd imagine this makes me a pain in the ass to live with.

Let's see, break's almost over. What else has happened. Saw some movies, mainly with Heather, who is nice. Watched the Good Girl a week or two ago, which I watched mainly because Jake Gyllenhal has slightly more pulling power than Jennifer Aniston has repulsing power. Glad I saw it, as it was as horribly enjoyable as only good black comedies can be.

Also saw Possession, which I would like to stress emphatically was not my idea. Needed time to kill before Death Guild on Monday, and that happened to be conveniently playing. Ever since, I've been trying to figure out exactly what demographic it's meant to appeal to. It's not nearly as clever as it aspires to be, nor would I imagine the plot has significance to any but the staunchest advocates of Victorian era poetry, assuming that the characters aren't entirely fictional, which I'm not certain of, because I don't want to waste the seconds required to run a google search. Instead I will waste the seconds exhorting my friends not to waste the money. We left what seemed like 3 hours into the movie, but was more likely somewhere around 45 minutes. Bad, bad, bad.

Lessee, it's September 11th. Thankfully I'm not watching as much TV as I was a year ago, so I don't have to be subjected to another over-commercialized orgy of elegiac self-righteousness. Which is not to say that I don't feel for anyone affected directly by what happened. I'd like to think that I'm still a bit too empathic for that, as much as I do occasionally play up my bitterness and disaffection (Tangent: The bitterness and disaffection is almost certainly a defense mechanism. It used to be quite possible to make me collapse in torrents of tears by threatening to dump salt on a slug. There's such a thing as being *too* empathic). But what drove/drives me absolutely up the wall is the nationalistic pretense that this is somehow more horrible than the horrible things that happen in other parts of the world every single day, just because it happened to us this time. It makes me very grumpy. Quoth Oingo Boingo Every time I look around this place I see them scream but I hear no sound. And the terrible things happen down the road to someone else that I don't even know. Nothing bad ever happens to me. Nothing bad ever happens to me. Why should I care? Bah, I'm sick of ranting, and other people have already done better jobs of it than I, namely Simon and Blark off the top of my head.

Oh, and in Josh is an idiot news, I lost my wallet. Well, I know roughly where it is actually, but unfortunately, where it is is beneath the seat of a SamTrans bus. This is why continual low level sleep deprivation is a bad thing. It just makes me slow. Sudden and erratic sleep deprivation on the other hand makes me wired, in some attempt to overcompensate. Strange biochemistry. Anyway, lost maybe 10$ that was in there. Other than that it's just a chore of replacing cards. Who wants to come with me to the DMV?

Back to game now. Repeat after me, "It'll all be over tomorrow", "It'll all be over tomorrow", "It'll all be over tomorrow". If I keep this up, I might start believing it.