Over the winter after I first moved out of my parents’ house, the apartment in which I lived had minimal heat and even more minimal insulation. On the coldest nights, my body would warm my spot on the bed and I’d fall asleep. If I moved from that spot, the chill would awaken me immediately.
During the heat wave of the past few days, I slept with my fan pointing directly at my chest, doing everything it could to keep my core temperature cool. If I moved out of the fan’s path during the night, I was immediately awakened by the heat.
The moral of this story? Climate control is good for your sleeping habits.
Last night: I’m so bad at Halo that I can’t even win in my own dream… and I still have fun.
Also last night: Somebody set a cigarette on my phone, causing a melt-burn on the screen. I bitched at Tony for it. He told me that it was fucked up anyway and I shouldn’t drop it so much. “But Tony, it’s a burn,” I said. “From a cigarette,” we said in unison. Obviously, I gave him a dap.
Third (dreamless), Tony once told a couple of our co-workers to fight to the death and tie so they would put each other out of our misery. That was awesome.
After about eight years of citing American History X as my favorite movie without any serious consideration that anything else might even compete, I’ve come to a realization: it’s been supplanted.
Midway through the (estimated… and I’m totally serious about the number) hundredth or so viewing of the usurper earlier tonight, I realized that it has done what I thought impossible: it’s come to mean more to me than American History X.
When Margot told Richie, “I think we’re just going to have to be secretly in love with each other and leave it at that,” through the tent flap, it hit me: The Royal Tenenbaums is my new favorite film.
This is a big fucking deal to me.
In the past two days, I’ve:
Been clipped by a bus on my bike. Nearly had a two hundred fifty pound video projector land on my head. Been a passenger in a minor car accident. Been clipped by a cab crossing two lanes of traffic to make an illegal turn. Had a car door opened into me, flipping me over my handlebars and ruining my front wheel.
Who exactly wants me dead? That someone can die.
I woke up facing the windows, enjoying what little time I have to use my entire home as sanctuary. Outside, the bright light night was subdued by the ominous cloudcover, the same that had let it out on me and my eight million neighbors just a few hours earlier.
At a stoplight, I looked over. The minivan cab next to me had two passengers occupying a single seat behind the driver.
The girl straddled her boy. She kissed away his look of surprise and glee fiercely. She started to glide back and forth across his lap, gently but firmly.
He’s going to get some when he gets home, I thought.
She didn’t want to wait.
You know what rules? Being miserable.
Wait, no, being miserable the opposite of rules. It… is subjugated? No, I’ll just go with “it sucks”.
And I will commit seppuku based on the utterly terrifying sentence structure that I have been forced to employ.
I have become marginally more rock and roll with the acquisition of my second tattoo. It is a four-pointed star centered upon the joint of my left shoulder.
While I was getting tattooed, one of the other artists in the shop came down to prepare for a job. He was talking about his client, a girl who looked so young that he told her “No” before she even had the opportunity to ask a question. However, she produced a passport, and as such, he agreed to tattoo her.
Her idea was cool. She seemed nice enough. However, she (and her friends) struck me as rather idiotic.
Why? Because she was getting her tattoo because it’s just so punk rock, that’s why.
I’m trying to get used to the time difference; it’s only 1:15am in Las Vegas.
Sometimes, like now, my tricky method of beating time changes by sleeping while traveling backfires. I have five hours to shower, sleep, eat, and leave the house.
I have a feeling tomorrow will be a very long day. I’ve not been well lately; I hope that some semblance of rest can change that.
No matter how I feel, I’m glad to be home. There are things here that I am only too happy to be able to return to.
I woke up a little late, but not too late that I was going to be late. The extra few minutes of sleep were very well received by my tired body.
The sky was overcast, but the weather was as perfect as it has ever been in my world. It was raining lightly, intermittently. The temperature was as lovely as I could have asked, just right for my sweater and jacket.