A world wide web of LIES

The other day I saw a Cedar Waxwing. Actually, about eight of them, feasting on the berries of a nearby tree. A-anne saw them the day before, and got a picture:

I wanted to get my own, but could not find my zoom lens. I had to settle for the camera in my Mind.

Later that very same day—so much later it was actually night—I saw a screech owl up in another nearby tree. I can’t do the normal owl call, so I got its attention by making high pitched fart sounds. It was really cute, until it clawed my eyes out. (That’s how this story would have ended if I didn’t stop making those sounds!)

Today I finally got my money’s worth from the all-day Saturday pass ($2 for unlimited bus rides).

• 20 Red South: downtown to campus, for pizza and witnessing whimsical conveyances
  
• 100 Yellow South: campus to Savoy, for the viewing of latest “talkie” film involving masked adventurers
• 100 Yellow North: Savoy to Target (this is practically the entire length of this route, from the southernmost to northernmost and took about an hour)
• 20 Red South (again): back to downtown
• 50 Green East: downtown to easternmost edge of Urbana, ostensibly for more grocery shopping but mainly I was engrossed in my reading material and kind of aimless
• 50 Green West: back home (downtown)
• NEVER DOING SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAIN

Actually, I had an idea once, when I was driving all up and down the Olympic Peninsula. I’d be out in the middle of nowhere, and there’d be a bus stop sign there. Western Washington has a whole mess of different local, county, and community bus systems, so I wanted to see how far I could get, starting in downtown Seattle. I could get pretty far into the Peninsula, for sure, and heading north and east I could probably get close to the Cascades.

I got all hopped up on Red Stripe and tropical drinks and too much sun until taking pictures of toy robots on the beach sounded like a great idea. Also, my li’l brudda got MARRIED!

(I was supposed to “blog this” yesterday, damn)

I had this awesome dream (for once), and was totally bummed-ass-out when I woke up from it. In it, I typed some random text into this Orator-like program (see this blogging), and it would sing the words back as an awesome lo-fi pop song. I tried it again, and this time it had musical backing and everything! It ruled. Then I woke up to a life where computers will not write my pop songs for me.

That night I also had a less awesome dream, wherein I heard a Sleater-Kinney song that was so awesome it made tears come to my eyes. Lots of them. This one’s actually more realistic. Something like that would happen on a regular basis if I were capable of displaying human emotions.

I am all the time having one of several recurring dreams. They get boring.

• I’m in the can, and someone opens the door, or the door won’t stay shut
• My guitar has broken in half while playing it
• Fighting with parents like a damn teenager
• Due to a clerical error I have to go back to highschool and take PE (at my age!)
• It’s the end of a semester in college and I suddenly realize I missed an entire class
• I missed the bus
• MONSTERS@_$*!@_%&!@_

And, rarest of all, and only if I’ve been REALLY good…

• kittens and bunnies doing hilarious things

It doesn’t really take a freudian to pinpoint the source of all these dreams, but the main thing is it’s damn ass hell of boring to only have a few different scenarios to pick from each night. It’s a writer’s strike up in my brain.

*This was from a trailer for the movie “Phantasm II” way back when I was a youngling. Then the scary thing (whatever it was) pops up and goes, “No, it’s not!” Well, my friend Na and I thought it would be even funnier to say, “No, it ain’t!” and then we’d laugh for about 15 minutes.

This weekend I actually spent all my money on groceries instead of robots. That Gundam kit I ate last week tasted AWFUL!

Here are a few of the ways I’ve described my myriad aches and ailments (most often a type of ache):

• it feels like I am growing a new skeleton on top of my old one
• it feels like my skeleton is fusing together
• stabbed all over: that is the feeling in my head/neck/back/guts
• my head feels like a cell that is about to divide
• my brain is being crushed by giant hands
• I feel like that guy in the Bible what got a tent stake through the head
• I feel like a good trepanning may help the situation
• it feels like someone is squeezing my spinal column
• OWWW, barometric pressure: I am sensitive to it!
• that xacto blade just fell through my finger (the eternal model building hazard)

I submit that my neighbors should not be allowed to cook food in their kitchens. It was particularly bad last night, when my cat Spike made “a smell” in the litter box, and I couldn’t tell where his “smell” ended and the neighbor’s dinner “smell” began. Basically it smelled like an overcooked cilantro/curry-infused chicken and poop hotdish*. And for dessert, a plate of… (see title)

*Midwestern for casserole

…and I said OK. At one point there were a couple dozen of them wanting to be my friend, but I had to draw the line somewhere.