Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Don't go away, say that you'll stay...

Random-thought-generator post:

--I've got a splitting headache. Allergy/sinus related. Freaking pollen or whatever the crap it is that is causing this. Freaking Nature.

--I feel like I should post on the Katrina survivors and my experience with them. But yet part of me just does not want to go into it. All the little comments I've made so far, I want them to be enough. But I know it's not. So, yes, it's coming up in the next day. Just to get it out and done with.

--I also want to run a few posts about the music festival from last weekend. I understand of course that this will only really be entertaining to Willam and myself. But I'm willing to run that risk, just to chronicle the experience.

--I want to write a meaningful, literary blog, full of mystery, elusiveness, and breathtaking skill. I want to blog like Huggins, basically. It frustrates me that I don't. But then again, Huggins wouldn't do the Cool Ten. Or the Linky-love. Or movie reviews. And that's all part of the PBB package, yes? So there it is. No schwanky blogging for me. (And i mean the term "schwanky" in the most respectful and jealous way.)

--I have a hip-swivelling dashboard hula girl on my desk. It was a gift from my two friends who recently married and went to Hawaii for the honeymoon. Her name, according to the package, is "Sweet Leilani." No, seriously. The reason she is not on my actual dashboard is two-fold: 1) it's an engineering impossibility, since the dash is too curvy and there's no flat section with enough head-clearance for the girlie; and 2) in order to put such an item in one's vehicle, one should already have the theme going in the vehicle, whether that theme by "hawaiian" or "kitschy knick-knacks." To have no theme, and insert a hula girl into the cold void of the themeless car, is to commit a stylistic crime, or at least some kind of feng shui violation. So on my desk she goes. She doesn't dance, being on the stationary desk. She just stands there. Smile plastered on her face, like she's so happy to be at the beach. Sorry, Leilani, you're in the cubicle jungle. Hate to break it to you.

--If you aren't a fan of James Lileks, I don't know what to do for you. But go here anyway. We get an update on the harsh realities of his daughter's ant farm, the mortality of other assorted pets, and the theology of insects. It's really funny.

--I rented Dr. Zhivago. I'd never seen it, and since I pride myself on being fairly well-versed in classic cinema, I figured I ought to give it a try. Fell asleep in the first ten minutes. But I was extremely sleepy already, and for some reason thought it would keep me awake. Wrong. So I'll give it another shot tonight, when I'll be more awake and ready to enjoy the film.

--I haven't written anything narrative in several weeks. Maybe Ginge is right--maybe TV is my alcohol. Hi, my name is Dave, and I'm addicted to television.

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