Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

things of the moment

◦ I'm reading American Gods. It's really excellent. I'm glad I bought it new and gave Gaiman some royalties. Yesterday I came to the part where Shadow has a waking dream of an imaginary Dick Van Dyke episode and I was mildly boggled. Apparently I'm more plugged in to the American collective unconscious than I realized.

◦ For the next week I'm keeping an hour-by-hour log of my activities and feelings for therapy. Most used words so far: agitated, anxious, tense, irritable, neutral.

Day After Tomorrow is now playing. Must see. Was sold out tonight when I tried on my way home from work. Maybe tomorrow morning at 11:30. Mental note to self...wake up.

◦ When my co-worker starts playing his indie band tape out loud at his desk at 4:30 afternoon on a Friday, is this a signal for me to leave? I think yes.

(Er, I meant to post this earlier, but was distracted.)

◦ Still not reading my flist. All week I've felt rootlessly restless. Still thinking of getting rid of my cable; maybe going down to the most basic non-digital plan--basically just major networks, Fox, WB, UPN. Especially compelling as I realized that if I did that, I could afford to simply buy all the shows I want to watch on DVD, one set per month or so. ... So, I have these thoughts and then four hours later after watching a movie through On Demand, I'm like: this is cool and convenient and I don't have to drive to the video rental store and why do I want to get rid of my cable again?

◦ Just watched Timeline. And, okay, this is just me, but I thought it kicked terrific ass. I haven't been that gripped by a movie in a long time--minute to minute edge-of-the-seat tension because I had no clue what was going to happen next and even when I kind of guessed, I was still really worked up. And how hot was Gerard Butler? Answer: gyahhh, I'm burning, help, someone put me out! ...fwoosh.

◦ I read Saussy's Inquisition story, Pantomime. Truly lovely, very canonical in tone and style and very happy-making. My own, second story entry: still late. I think a little guilt gnome is nibbling on my toes...no, wait, it's chewed one off.

◦ I feel like I should be doing things, and I know what they are, but I'm not doing them, and I'm not doing anything else instead. I'm just kind of sitting here. My brain is a dial tone.

ETA: I reread this post and think I sound goofy. Why am I saying things like, "okay, this is just me..."? I am making all these facile, generic recommendations. What's the point? Okay, maybe someone will see this and it will tip someone a little further toward reading a book or a story or seeing a movie, but where's the *me* in all of this? It's not an issue of ego, I just want to know: is this me? Is this all I am, these dumb little strings of words?

Pointless quasi-existential questions on a Friday night.
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