September 15th, 2002

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Rack 'em, Danno.

In an effort to find hobbies that would be less harmful to my wrists, I have been trying to think back on what I used to do for fun, back before I became a slave to the digital world. One of my favorite diversions in my misspent youth was pool. I have spent entirely too much time in my life staring down the shaft of a cue stick at balls rolling on green felt, chalk on my hands, a cigarette hanging from my lips. And damn, that sounds like fun. Ok, so it's probably not so good for my wrists, thus defeating the initial purpose of the exercise, but now the idea is stuck in my head, and I've become somewhat obsessed.

Anyone wanna go play pool with me? :)
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Dream data: El Javelina del Amor.

So, yesterday, solipsistnation had made a journal post about El Javelina del Amor, the Peccary of Love, and we joked around as to how it would invade my dreams. Apparently, my subconcious is highly impressionable (not that that comes as any surprise to those who know me), for said piggie did make a series of appearances in last night's nocturnal visions.

Last night, I was on some interminable journey. I had no idea what my destination was, but there was a draining amount of travel involved. Weeks upon weeks, turning into months upon months. And I never arrived anywhere. Indeed, I never got out of conveyances and structures of travel. Buses, airports, airplanes, trains, depots, stations, boats, harbors. And every step along the way, random people from my past would casually, accidentally, almost incidentally apepar. Maybe not random, actually. Mostly people who, given my druthers, I would have preferred not to see again. But, each time I would try to make the best out of a tense, and awkward situation, and each time, just as things were beginning to devolve, and become more obviously stressful and prone to angst-inducing fits of vitriol, regret, recrimination, and anger, El Javelina del Amor would come trundling up out of nowhere. He would snuffle me, and lead me away from the moment. He would spend a few minutes with me, and make sure I was ok, and when he was convinced that all was well with me, he would toddle off, fading away until the next near-climax of tension.

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    TV: Sneakers
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Having simultaneous sneezing and coughing fits in such a way as you create a temporary vacuum in your chest with air trying to force its way through in both directions is something to be avoided, if you can manage it.
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Bored. Bored bored bored bored bored.

*sigh* I'm in that horrible place where I am very very tired, but I also really really want to be doing something. If I can't actually go and do something, I want to watch a movie, but none of my movies appeal to me. I want to listen to my music, but it appears that my Audiotron is broken in some weird way that I don't have the mental energy to deal with figuring out. I had pondered trying to find Bardo's, a pool hall / movie theater / brew pub / restaurant place that I'd gone to a few times years ago, but it seems they've moved way the hell out into the middle of nowhere. Going into the city sounds kind of fun. Well, being in the city sounds like fun. The actual logistics sound too tiring. I need to go to the grocery store, if I want to cook, but I have to do the dishes to cook, and that doesn't appeal. I have work I could be doing, should be doing, even. I have all of these pictures from my Boston trip to deal with, and my brain just isn't up to any of it.

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    TV: (DVD) Everest IMAX