quasify

Suffice to say I’m alive and safe. Highlights of my far too brief trip to the East Coast-

• My family had a birthday party for me yesterday despite it not being for another few weeks.
• Foss Fest planning & flyering
• Business stuff at Brigham
• Preparations in Mission Hill for the Kennedy funeral

We’re just going to skip the sunday mileage update for this week. Instead I’m gonna look at Where’s My Poppa? some more.

From my mother, re: baby nieces.

I am in Ipswich. The girls are dividing their toy animals into those who have to fly in the baggage compartment and those they can carry on the plane. What do you think about a seahorse? They opted for a suitcase. I am afraid it won’t survive.

Earlier today I was finalizing the logistics for the weekend travel plans for myself and my next of kin and it occurred to me that instead of making up lists about what I wanted to do I really should spend the week doing what she wants, what she would choose to do once more if she really understood the situation. The problem is I know her real passion (of late) lies in gopher hunting which is frankly the world’s boringest sport involving nothing more than extended periods of noses down holes. I have no patience for this whatsoever. So by way of compromise we went to Stow Lake tonight, home to the world’s highest concentration of nut gobblers. She was in friggin spazoid heaven.

Now, later tonight, I’m cleaning off the DVR, watching Michael Vick justify himself on 60 Minutes. The interview with the indignant James Brown generates a futile rage in me, at both Vick and the system that produced him. I shut it off to brush what’s her fuzz again, fixing her new collar tags. Her toys and food are already packed, her suspicions raised about what, exactly, is up. She’ll figure it out soon enough.

And as long as I’m posting random videos on here rather than substantive content, here’s a trailer to a film LS is associated with. It’s on the festival circuit now, and they’re looking for investors for distribution. Making money in independent film is a long tough row to hoe. But this looks really good. The Sufjan score doesn’t hurt.

I got to work today to find I was locked out of my computer, having been (it is suspected) auto-fired by the HR computer borg. Thank you University of This Fine City in This Bankrupt State, happiest of anniversaries to you too! Phone calls were made, hoops jumped through, numerous emails sent off to folks on vacation, new job descriptions cobbled together. At the end of the day no one really is entirely sure if I have a job anymore or not, but that’s somewhat beside the point. Being generally clueless with the direction of my life I’ve found it’s generally a good idea to take these blatantly obvious foreshadowing events seriously, and between this and the extremely disheartening reports on the Boston rental market, the writing is on the wall in giant block letters that even I can read.

I’m not sure what’s weirder – that North Korea has a twitter feed or that they’re actually following more people (4800+) than are following them (4400+). Still, given lack of formal diplomatic channels between our countries how else would we know how parts 2 and 3 of cultural film night in Pyongyang went down last week?

The film deeply impressed the audience as it makes a vivid artistic representation of the truth that the greatness of the country and the nation lies in that of its leader and the reality of the DPRK demonstrating its might thanks to its ever-victorious Songun politics.

See that, deeply impressed! Great stuff, what a captivated audience that must have been. And to think LP said all teh tweetseratti were good for nothin’.

I was updating some paperwork today to add a few of my recent publications. Pubmed stalking is a nice refreshing break from the regular google google google stalk.

While doing this I realized my first publication came out friggin fourteen years ago. I don’t have access to web of science to check citations but pubmed says it’s got three cites since. That’s some crazy mad impact factor!! This publication dutifully sits on my CV and has historically served only to prompt questions at key junctures of my life from people who are required to somehow assess my merit.
Continue reading I just keep smallifying the font size.

The beach is a bad place to make life decisions. You get swept up in a false sense of beach euphoria. Your dog is going ape-nuts, tearing up and down the beach, crashing through sand castles and throwing down with all the little yappy dogs. Miles of open sand, big swells and hundreds of sea lions barking. It’s a false reality.

The true reality is you get home and your wet dog stinks up the house something fierce and leaves patches of sand everywhere as she dries. And just forget about the car, the cleanliness of which is a lost cause.

ps. happy birthday as. to celebrate I rented but didn’t watch transsiberian.

It’s almost late enough that I can just get up for the day, having pretended to have slept normally.

Lots of unwanted stuff floating around my head tonight. Past, future, success, failure, restarts, rehash, options, restrictions, career, family, furloughs, freedom of choice & fate. Introspection, it seems, can only be avoided so long before it builds up and overflows all at once, promising a day forthcoming to be spent both bedraggled and edgily caffeinated.

I’ve never been much of one for rational planning, starting now seems hopelessly revisionist.