August 4th, 2004



A few days ago, it occurred to me that I spend a truly obscene amount of time on this blog. An average of two hours a day, and sometimes it goes to three. Because I can't just write an entry, I have to write an entry. I have to try to make it sound good, and get all the typos and grammatical errors out, and so forth. I have to try to find something to say and a way to say it well. Sometimes, I wish I could be like I was at fourteen or twenty one or even twenty five. Back then, I was inexplicably good at doing a half-assed job of things. Now, I'm a frelling micro-managing perfectionist.

Yesterday, there were e-mails and such that had to be taken care of, small things. Or, rather, big things that seem small in and of themselves, but if not properly handled can gum up the works good and proper. Sort of like an Escherichia coli bacterium or an ounce of plutonium. There are lots more of those things today. But I'm getting ahead of myself. If I start talking about today today, what will I talk about tomorrow?

After all the little stuff that wasn't little, Spooky and I struck out in the heat and light for CompUSA, inconveniently located all the way the frell over in frelling nasty-ass Buckhead, because I had to have a new pair of headphones. For the last six months or so, I've needed a new pair of headphones. But a) I procrastinate and b) I was sort of attached to the old ones, since I'd been using them since about 1997 or so. It was hot. We saw a couple of those big digital time/temperature signs that claimed it was 98-degrees F. I think they were low-balling. The concrete was starting to melt. What is the melting point of concrete? By the time we got back over to Ponce (which is, mostly, also nasty-ass; at least you have more trouble finding the hookers and crackwhores and winos in Buckhead) and stopped at Whole Foods (for salsa) I think I was a little delirious. I wanted to crawl in the big cooler full of oragnic tater tots and whole-wheat pizza crusts and wait for sunset.

But I did find a good, decently priced pair of Sony headphones, a pair that came with a free pair of ear buds, so I suppose it was worth risking my health and sanity to brave the sun and traffic and people.

After sunset, Spooky and I went out again, for a DVD (Spooky will tell you about the spider on the car). She found something called Half-Caste, a Blair Witch wannabe about undead wereleopards in South Africa. I wanted to see the uncut version of Supernova, as the theatrical release is on my "worst films ever" list, and I'm curious to see if the added footage at least renders the film coherent. Anyway, we went with Half-Caste, mostly because the picture on the box was kind of sexy (well, if you're me and Spooky, it was kind of sexy). The movie was awful, as we'd both expected, but not as awful as we'd expected. I suspect if the filmmakers had been in possession of just a few hundred thousand more dollars, it could have been much better. Some of the scenes were actually quite effectitively spooky, and the half caste creature effects, wisely kept to a minimum (we see the creature a good bit, but usually when it's moving quickly or in the distance or poorly lit) were moderately impressive. I was especially taken with the actor's ability to run on all fours. It was delightfully wrong.

Okay. Now, I have to brush my teeth, work out, and then the work must be done.

And a sincere thank you to Michael Scott. He knows why.
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    Concrete Blonde, "When You Can't See Me"