Tonight is the first night of relaxation I’ve had in (what feels like) ages. Tonight, there are no obligations for tomorrow apart from waking.
As you can see, I’ve updated my layout. Finally. Finally I got time to play with some background ideas, finish one, find a (free) host for the size, play with the layout to my satisfaction, delve back into HTML/CSS—and I’m so behind: I didn’t realize CSS 2.0 was out and I’ve got a fantastic idea for another layout with all the new stuff available—and make this place goddamn pretty. I’m tot’s fo’sho gonna clean the code up over my 夏の休み so it’s not shameful, but I’ve got a whole list of things “to-do” over break. How restful, ね.
I really wanted to add some movie reviews/recommendations here, especially since I want to get through my entire instant queue on Netflix in the next week, and I wanted to plug The Astronaut’s Wife because I liked it so much. The music is brilliant, the story is a has-been, the acting is whatever, but the cinematography is sublime. Camera angles of all sorts are used, movement is sometimes static and sometimes dynamic and in all directions. There’s a fantastic confrontation at the end with a twist that may or (depending on how savvy one is) may not be foreseen that cherries(v.) the movie. Yes, the story has been done, but this context, and thus its logic, is novel. The acting might be sub-par, but the screenplay/screenwriting/direction is extremely clear—and that sex scene is about all that’s needed to establish that Depp’s character is not who he is supposed to be. Oh yeah, spoiler. Like it’s unexpected. The point is that with that single scene I understood, as an audience, that Theron’s character did not believe her husband was her husband. And I have contempt for everyone on IMDB or Netflix who couldn’t understand the point of the scene. All of them.
I had a power-out at my apartment a few months back. I forget which day and didn’t write it down, so now it’s just a memory. It also lasted only minutes, in the sense that any period of time less’n an hour is “only” minutes, but since the whole block had no lights, I was able to watch an exodus of the students with cars from my window, while listening to music on my baby, while enjoying the peace of the empty neighborhood.
I might be marching elsewhere this summer. I still have two weeks of Winterguard left before I even want to think about what’s happening this summer and prepare for it.
For the most useful award of February 2010, which is when I meant this entry to appear, I have to tip my hat to my oldest younger brother, who lent me one of those digital picture frames. Besides distracting me away from my homework time, sleep time, eating time, and everything else, it is the perfect night-light for my apartment. Since I often return home after the sun has set (and in the case of winter, that’s pretty much anytime after 4:30pm), and I’m not in the habit of leaving lights on, the apartment was always pitch black, especially compared to the hallway outside. But now that picture frame is on 24/7, apart from any extended trips away, and I when I return, its cold, weak, electric light softly illumines outlines of all things in the place. Bonus: I edited the pix it displays, so they’re all ones I like, and sometimes whole comics from short comics I like. I also have pix from a professional photographer. When I finally have to return it, it will be pretty easy to talk myself into purchasing one of my own.
On the school front, I am nearly done with my Major. This is pretty exciting, since I habitually forget my age and can’t, therefore, I hope, be expected to remember what year of school I’m in. It turns out I’m senior-ish, and, provided I qualify for the poetry-centered class, can be finished with said Major in Fall of 2010. Yeah, OK, I’m tired of writing papers about stuff I don’t care about and am not interested; but I also want to teach a course on creative writing, so having written “graduate level” poetry will lend some credibility; and, as I knock poetry all the time, and constantly, constantly attribute it to being emo, it’s funny.
I also added a death clock after reading about it on the Zen Habits blog. I did it to have a timer on how long I have left to do all the things I really want, and it sort of works. I’m certainly more anxious than usual when I’m not doing what I want. Coincidentally, I had a an old friend call me up out of the blue to offer me an MLM opportunity, which was sad, but one of her talking points was that with only 5 hours a week spent on it, it could net me $80,o00,000,000,000,000,000 in the long run. Well, not that I couldn’t use eighty bazillion dollars, but if I could spend 5 hours a week doing my interests, well: that might be pursuable. And pursuit-worthy.
ところで、Google thinks ‘bazillion’ is a word. And it only matters because it thinks ‘pursuable’ is not.
Also in by-the-by news, I had a ‘fro and a handlebar ‘stache for all of one weekend. One day, truthfully, because I cut all my hair off that night, and shaved the ‘stache off the next. Every time I looked in a mirror I got weirded the fuck out. Every time! There’s no way I can ever wear a mustache. Mundane as the news is, it’s because there is no mustache on my mental-self-image, so every time I saw myself I was, metaphysically, invisible. By-the-by.
In the most interesting news award, I was asked by one teacher, whom I respect and want to be tutored by this summer, to lie to another teacher. Which, to be fair, is the best thing that could have been done in the situation. I’m still thinking about it, so maybe more about it in the future.
And in the Most Sublime Event of 2010, which happened this very morning in a two-part episodic format, I had a dream come true. Literally. I literally had a dream come true. I, now, of course, have to wonder about the other paranormal/psychic phenomena/legends of those whose dreams—questionably—coincided with reality. I dreamed I was talking with someone, and asked what book series they were reading, and they told me it was Kim Harrison. Which, on the surface, of course it would be her, since she’s a favorite author and I own all her books, and it makes sense that I would dream her as the identity of an author I didn’t know. But then I was chatting with my friend later that day, and that’s who the author was! And again, to be fair, I don’t know how many authors would fit a ‘paranormal fiction’ definition, but who cares—I had a dream l i t e r a l l y come true. There is not much left in 2010 that can top that. Unless one of those things happens, there is nothing in the last decade that can top that.
Literally! So not over it.