Pre-Hump Day Omnibus Post
The end of Tuesday finds me expecting from minute to minute to hear some eggs boiling over in the kitchen -- hard-boiling some eggs being the only personal task I designated for today, other than pre-ordering a Don Hertzfeldt anthology DVD, and the one I most nearly failed to accomplish by falling asleep on the couch in front of series 2 of Red Dwarf (my germinal, Netflix-enabled survey of BBC sitcoms continuing unabated). Until the eggs are done, then, I sit in front of the computer and drink San Pellegrino out of one of the few clean drinking receptacles left in my apartment at the moment. (San Pellegrino makes a pretty good substitute for my tap water for casual drinking purposes, since it's cheap at Trader Joe's and its gas content is more predictable and palatable than that of what comes out of my kitchen faucet.) I don't typically outdo myself on Tuesdays anymore.
Last night I had a dream that contrived to have me listening to some sort of fictional middle-aged Hollywood executive, who said of her ex-lover: "Poor Richard. He told me, all I want is one arm and one leg and to walk on all twelves like a goat. Five months later he was dead." This struck me as a very peculiar quotation, once I was aware I had dreamed it, so I tried to write it down. This was a struggle, since I was in fact still asleep, and even after mustering the necessary concentration to formulate the words correctly I merely woke up and found that I had only dreamed I'd written it down. Irksome, but not as maddening as, say, dreaming in mundane detail about thoroughly brushing one's teeth for five minutes only to wake up and find one's teeth still unbrushed, as happened to me on some morning last week.
(Actual news on the subject of unusual limb counts.)
Of the unclean drinking receptacles in my home, my favorite is the steel beer stein that my friend Nic gave me at his wedding rehearsal dinner. He got all his groomsmen mugs with personalized, very obscure inside jokes engraved on them. Mine sports the following quotation and attribution:
Last night I had a dream that contrived to have me listening to some sort of fictional middle-aged Hollywood executive, who said of her ex-lover: "Poor Richard. He told me, all I want is one arm and one leg and to walk on all twelves like a goat. Five months later he was dead." This struck me as a very peculiar quotation, once I was aware I had dreamed it, so I tried to write it down. This was a struggle, since I was in fact still asleep, and even after mustering the necessary concentration to formulate the words correctly I merely woke up and found that I had only dreamed I'd written it down. Irksome, but not as maddening as, say, dreaming in mundane detail about thoroughly brushing one's teeth for five minutes only to wake up and find one's teeth still unbrushed, as happened to me on some morning last week.
(Actual news on the subject of unusual limb counts.)
Of the unclean drinking receptacles in my home, my favorite is the steel beer stein that my friend Nic gave me at his wedding rehearsal dinner. He got all his groomsmen mugs with personalized, very obscure inside jokes engraved on them. Mine sports the following quotation and attribution:
Less talk, more work, Earth germs! -- Nelson RockefellerThis comes from a few rounds of hangman Nic and I played on a bus trip our freshman year of college, in which I used various misattributed quotations in the hope that the misattributions would make them harder to solve. (This particular statement was actually made, more or less, by Soundwave in an episode of the old Transformers cartoon.) Anyway, I've always wanted a mug with a non sequitur on it; as I told Nic at the time, this is basically the best cup I have ever gotten from anyone.
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