06: This is rocket science

Lemon meringue pie at 1 AM, ladies and gentlemen.

Goddamn this twitter thing. It may be at the root of my lack of will to blog. After a certain point, SWP becomes a bit of a chore, albeit a labor of love. One of those things I feel like I have to do. Like, "Man, I should get around to writing that entry." And of course, when I'm supposed to do something, or getting around to doing something, I would rather be doing anything else. In addition to putting off blogging all week, I was running a Mafia game, which took precedence above all else (and was riveting to be frank) and other small writing projects, as well as bigger ones, most importantly the comic that has fallen by the wayside yet again.

So what I'm saying is, I've been watching a lot of movies this week.

You know your priorities are fucked up when you're procrastinating from procrastinating. Nothing I feel obligated to do is important, just things to do when I'm bored. But it's been this way for years, I get wrapped up in a project until it becomes too much of a burden and I leave it undone.

I would use that as an reason as to why my relationships don't seem to work out, but... what relationships, really?

So yeah, the last few days have been the story of me losing my dedication to something or other and doing something else instead. I just rediscovered Line Rider, which is terrible. But the good news is, I pretty much crafted my masterwork tonight, so I won't be getting sucked back into it.

Saturday was an interesting day, though. Inasmuch as SWP ever gets interesting (this is becoming a standard line, if it wasn't already.) After hanging out with Manda and having all the usual conversations (with the usual variations, not that they ever get old,) I went to feed Zoey for Dad and Deb. While there, I took advantage of the solitude and did something I've wanted done for a while, but never had the wherewithal to inquire.

One of the numerous pieces of technology bestowed on the family by my late Grandad was a record player that converts to CD and lays through its own speakers (the feature I'm more interested in.) I took it upon myself to set it up, and then dug into dad's vinyl collection.

Having grown up in the era of CDs, I've not actually experienced my vinyl in my time. Mrs. McCann, the music teacher at River Oaks, did have a record player for some of her old standbys, but that doesn't really count. And although a lot of my dad's records are ones I wouldn't touch with a lengthy pole, some of them are more than a little listenable. In this case, Abbey Road. When the needle dropped into that groove and the opening guitars of Here Comes the Sun (I purposely listened only to side 2,) I was blown away by the different sonic qualities that format offered. I never was much of an audiophile, but I could really hear it.

There's this little record shop of Kerr I'm fascinated by. It's always closed when I'm down there, which gives it that mysterious "We don't really give a shit if we're open" High Fidelity vibe. Or else, they're closed for good in which case they might consider emptying out the place. I want to go in there and browse at old LPs and stuff. Probably buy something, because I wouldn't have any idea if I'd ever get back in there again. Hell, I'd like to work there too.

After a few records, I went home and watched Back to the Future 2 with B, and we had what had to be a 10 minute conversation about what we'd do if we were to time travel - assuming we had chosen the destination, unlike Marty McFly who had to spend the entire time figuring out how to get back. Brando said he'd go to the 70's or something, while I said I'd want to go to the early 90's. A few reasons for this seemingly boring choice: one, I was there, but I wasn't really experiencing it at the time, so most of my experience is through hearing about it and reconciling that with my vague childhood memories. The other is that I wouldn't want to be able to jeopardize my own birth in any way. That's pretty important.

I went with Adam and Chris to see District 9 last night. Good flick. It used its metaphor pretty well, but didn't get too messagey, so I was glad when it ended with a giant shootout that lasted about 20 minutes. The documentary aesthetic was really cool too, and really enhanced the feel. Also, the special effects were neat.

Since I knew Chris would be up for hours anyway (he working the night shift,) he and I hung out for about 3 hours afterward playing Super Mario World. We started only a couple levels into Vanilla Dome, and while he primarily worked at beating Special World, I stormed through and beat Bowser.

Today I didn't do much of anything, adding to my unproductive streak. I'm cutting out morning coffee until it gets chilly again, though. I've been ruled by that compulsion far too long.

Tomorrow, a dentist's appointment to fill something (not a cavity) in one of my back teeth. Last time I was there I embarrassed myself a little bit because he was jabbering on about dental jargon and at the end I asked "So... is that it then?" and he said "Yeah... except for that filling I just told you you need." Fuck! I should floss more.

The thing that's always in the back of my mind is... what about wisdom teeth? I'm pretty far past the age most people I know have had them out. Mine don't seem to be budging one way or the other. I had one x-ray, one time, for them, and no follow-up.

I was crossing the road earlier tonight. I walked halfway out when I saw a car coming from the right, so I stood there in the lane (stupidly) waiting for that car to pass, and by the time it did, another car approaching from the left was closing in on me fast, and I was kinda drowsy so I didn't get out of the way very fast. I mean, I still made it, I'm not a total idiot, but it was a close enough call that the people (assholes) in the second car, after passing, yelled back at me, "Get outta the fucking road, you little fuck(er)!" And I walked on, thinking "Well, that was a little mean..." not entirely uncalled for, but mean. I mean yes, what I did was not only dangerous and inconsiderate, but made me look kind of like an asshole. Still, profanity yelled from cars hurts like rudeness over the internet -- quite a bit for a moment, then you say fuck it, the moment's passed, and dismiss the other person.

That said, I guess I'll make sure there are no cars at all in the immediate future. You can't say I didn't learn my lesson.

Like all nights, this night has been a bit of a waste as far as what I'd planned to do. Oh well, my own fault. Someday I'll learn. For reals.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto