Dec. 3rd, 2004

rejectomorph: (5th street los angeles 1905)
Ah, once again I have lost track of the passage of time while fiddling about at Cinema Treasures, where I have become a posting fool. How time flies when you're lost in the past! Or should that be "how time flew." I'm confused now. Wait. This is now, isn't it? Well, it must be, because I'm about to fade into unconsciousness. That only happens in the present.

Anyway, tonight I posted something about my trip to a skid row theater on Main Street in Los Angeles many years ago. It has occurred to me that I ought to post that tale here sometime- not because it is a particularly good story, (it isn't, really) but because it's one of the few things I've ever done that approaches being adventurous in any way. I need to milk what I've got. Sometimes I wish I'd been more foolhardy when I still had the energy for such things. It would have made this journal more interesting, I suspect. I still might not be doing anything of interest now, but at least I'd have some more interesting memories to write about, and wouldn't be reduced to constantly crafting clever little word-trinkets about the weather.

Oh, yeah, that reminds me. There was weather here tonight. Fancy that!

Dull Friday

Dec. 3rd, 2004 10:09 pm
rejectomorph: (gericault_the raft of the medusa 2)
After being given a mild day today, we are threatened with the possibility of snow Sunday night or Monday morning. With luck, it will turn out to be mere freezing rain and a bit of sleet. Whatever it turns out to be, I'm hoping it doesn't continue through Tuesday, as I have an appointment that afternoon to have my teeth poked and scraped and made all shiny with one of those things that feels like a pencil eraser spinning around really fast, leaving grit that I'll be crunching on all night. For me to trudge through bad weather for all that is asking too much.

It smells as though almost every fireplace and wood stove in the neighborhood is lit tonight. The air is dense with smoke. Were it not for the cold, I could almost imagine that it was summer again, and the forest was burning. I wonder if anyone is toasting marshmallows? It would be a nice night for them, and for hot chocolate, and for some tasty biscotti. Lacking these things, I think I'll settle for peanut butter on toast, with a banana. And, in lieu of a fire, a flickering television screen. BBC America has begun showing those campy old '70s spy/adventure shows such as The Avengers on Friday nights. Watching those in the nice, warm living room beats the hell out of sitting in this ice box, pounding away at Sluggo's keyboard.

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