August 5th, 2009

Me 2 (B&W)

Maybe my dream-self was sick.

Don't feel 100% this morning. Taking it easy and trying to determine if I'm a little under the weather, at least under the weather enough to call in sick. This after my dreams involved a widespread outbreak of uncomfortable but not usually life-threatening illness, and it was an outbreak like clockwork: everyone got sick at precisely the same time. (I seem to remember that time being 2 p.m. on the dot, on some lovely summer day.) Suddenly getting around and dealing with stuff became a little epic and a little difficult. (A sick bus driver points to a sick rider: "Can you travel or not?" Points to another: "Can you travel or not?" Very no-nonsense and to the point, that bus driver.) People felt like crap but were trying to soldier through, and to drink enough water to keep from getting sicker.

Maybe I was feeling sick while asleep and my dream-self incorporated that feeling. The dream-self grabs onto all sorts of stuff.

Not The Stand, and I'm glad. I wasn't really in the mood for most everyone in the world to die, even just in a dream. Still not.

6:36 a.m. update: I'm feeling a little better. I'll be heading to work.
Whale fluke

Putting a name to events

Among the people arrested in Iran during recent protests is a friend of idiomagic. idiomagic updates the situation here.

The friend's name is Ali Amorlahi, age 20 and a student. "I'm only printing his name since it has appeared everywhere on the internet already," his friend said. "Now, silence won't help him."

More updates at her post.
Good Omens

In which my mind struggles to make a coherent post.


My current mental music is Die Hard music. VERY LOUD. (From the third film, if'n you're wantin' to be specific.)

Hell-heat has departed Portland. We may see 70s soon. A week and a day ago was the worst of it. I think my mind may have hard-boiled.

My blogging drive has been wildly inconsistent lately. I still haven't written about how awesome Trek in the Park was two weekends ago. I mean to. Timeliness be damned.

This remains...a strange time. *is cryptic*
Whale fluke

Reservoir Dogs! Brought to you by guys who'll just TALK your ear off!

Friday. The Bagdad. The Cort and Fatboy Midnight Movie. Three bucks. 21 and over. Doors at 10 for a show at 11. And this time all that is for

Reservoir Dogs

The first film Quentin Tarantino directed. Somewhat unexpected user of the Wilhelm Scream. Famously unexpected user of "Stuck in the Middle With You." The most disturbing thing Stephen Wright's ever been involved in. Iconic guys-in-suits-walking-off-to-do-bad-stuff flick.

Be there. I think by Friday I'll be in the mood for shooting and torture.