Unfavorable Topography: 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005

Saturday, April 30, 2005

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So much madness!

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

[twelve noon]

My body temperature needs to get its act together. Monday I had an inkling something was amiss when my head was on fire while my extremities were scouring for any warmth at all. Using some disposable paper thermometers I've clocked readings of 99.6, 100.8, and now 97.something. Nothing extreme, I know, but feverish chills are no fun when it's 80 degrees in Syracuse.

Bob Nanna is playing at Westcott Community Center (probably a Nerf Turbo's throw from my current abode) on July 10th under his City on Film moniker. Perhaps I'll be making a Sunday drive north nine days before my birthday.


[three thirty]

So Bob has a new blog that's worth mentioning. This one is actually getting updated, a lot, everyday. It's like my senior year of high school, where I'd look forward to coming home in the evenings and reading his constant ramblings throughout the day working temp jobs. He's even resumed covering his favorite 100 songs of all time. Craziness.



And finally, Moshzilla.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

The Friday Night Lights soundtrack is absolutely beautiful. It's providing a background soothe tonight as I research a short presentation for tomorrow on Icelandic "superstars" Jon Leifs and Bjork. After tomorrow's I'll have only one more to do for this kind-of-a-joke but also pretty informative MUI class that I needed to take for the minor.

The weekend was absolutely beautiful. I think it's finally here. I've stopped checking the weather because I'm just assuming sunlight will crack through mine or Jess' shades in the morning and wake me up three or eight times, depending on how up to speed my falling-back-to-sleep skills are that day. But that's all I want to say about it. It's nice out, yes. End of school in xx days, yes. Let's enjoy while we can, yes, and fuck countdowns and lamentations.

My Dad has started a photo blog, mostly in preparation for his upcoming trip to Japan. Obscenely jealous, I am. I sent him Lost in Translation to watch and the first thing he asked was "what did Bill Murray whisper to her at the end?" I don't know, I said, I think it's just supposed to be a whisper we're supposed to hear for ourselves. I hope he has fun riding bullet trains and meeting Japanese neo-hippies at moe. shows.

OK.