I saw a woman today that reminded me of her. She had a similar curve in her jawbone, a similar portrait of lengthy, full, lovely lips. Among other similarities. I couldn't help but stare for isolated quiet minutes at her, while she waited for her man to return to her. When she spoke I sensed the slightest hint of a similar voice. It shook my spine. I just looked at her like I was staring at a film, as though I were a nonexistent person being shown a film about real life. I wasn't leering, I don't want to give the wrong impression. I was looking at her reminiscing about the sensation of witnessing otherworldly beauty, of having it in my lap. The warm sun, the palm trees, the cool breeze, it all faded away in the shadow of what having her in my lap on a cloudy day by an ugly river meant. Most of my life has been lived in hints, but for a short time the hints revealed the truth. I saw it, kissed it and so many things I didn't get to do with it.

I don't handle love well anymore.

Great Moments In 21st Century Television

I was just watching an episode of Jeopardy!. The category was "Literary Gems", and the clue was "Steinbeck: The ___".

Now, the category title already indicates the correct response will include the name of some type of precious or semiprecious stone, and this was already several questions into the category where the premise had been well established. One of Steinbeck's most famous short works is entitled The Pearl.

The contestant buzzed in and said, "What is The Red Pony?"

Great Moments In 20th Century Music

I was listening to this song while riding my bicycle through my neighborhood during sunset. The air was like spring. I felt like the hopeless romantic loser in a Woody Allen film. Close your eyes while you listen and try not to feel like that:

"Don't Get Around Much Anymore" - Ink Spots

Dave Zollo

My dear friend Dave has a Kickstarter campaign going to raise money for the release of his latest album. If you're a fan of music, or Iowa, or awesome people in general, then please check out the site and consider making a purchase. These are pledged purchases, not donations, and no one will be charged unless he reaches his goal and the product is produced. If not for me or for Dave, then do it for the children!

That is Dave's son, several years ago, trying to balance a flyswatter on his finger.

So pledge now! Here's the link: Dave Zollo - For Hire

Great Moments In 20th Century Literature

As I was brushing my teeth I looked in the mirror and I realized that I am a man without commitments. I thought about how many men dream of being commitment-free, and I felt pity for them.

A commitment is a reason to live, a beautiful period placed at the end of a life sentence.

I wish I had one of them.

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"What does it matter to me to know, in sun or rain, body or soul, that I too shall pass? Not a thing, except the hope that everything is nothing, and therefore nothing is everything." - Fernando Pessoa

Great Moments In 20th Century Television

I was sitting in a bar watching a World Cup match, overhearing California college boys analyze the sport. It reminded me of an episode of Friends, a show I haven't watched in ages and one that I now avoid for certain reasons. There was an episode where Phoebe was taking a literature class, and Rachel joined her. When Rachel read Vogue magazine instead of Jane Eyre she asked Phoebe for a synopsis. Phoebe fed her false information then baited the teacher into asking Rachel's opinion.

Rachel: "Well what struck me most about Jane Eyre was uh, how the book was so ahead of its time."

Teacher: "If you're talking about feminism, I think you're right."

Rachel: "Yeah well, feminism yes. But also the robots."

---

That was one of their best episodes, that one.

Ross has a breakdown over someone taking his sandwich, a leftover turkey sandwich that he says was the only good thing going for him. Reminds me of myself and the chicken salad. Funny how those distant thoughts came crashing into my brain like meteorites.

life: a formalady

That's a top-notch pun.

I've been meandering today, driving foreign roads. Depressed. A night of no sleep save for intermittent naps plagued by anxious dreams. I've ended up in a library. Only just now realized that it's Bloomsday. I should buy a bottle of Jameson but it's not worth it. I'll page absentmindedly through my favorite book when I get back to my room, and daydream that I'm not who I am.

"Secrets, silent, stony sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants willing to be dethroned." - James Joyce