The previous poster mystery solved and a second page of comments lead me to the conclusion that my journal needs an update....and yes, I will dispense with the usual Thanksgiving recap...
I am not feeling particularly clever and creative near noon today, so pardon the lack of an interesting post.
I need to see a movie tonight, and catch up on the movies that are out right now before they pass me by. I am also catching up on movies I've bought and not watching, as I took in Seven Years in Tibet last night, which I bought on a whim. Definitely a guy movie about a guy and his travels and his eventual "growing up." Very interesting movie made even more interesting because it is a true story...
My room needs cleaning as well, which I hope to finish up today. I love a clean room and enjoy it all the more, yet I find it difficult sometimes to get around to cleaning it. I have most things picked up over the course of two days, and am ready to dust and vacuum basically. I still have some sandwich wrappers laying about, a few empty bottles of Frapuccino (yes, I'm one of the 6 people who admit to liking them), a few coats and jackets, some clean clothes, some new clothes, and a small pile of black and white glass chess pieces and the glass playing board on the floor...the chess set because I currently have no place to effectively set it up on. My bookcase is full up with books and magazines I want to keep (but will likely never need again...the magazines that is, I'll reread books), two pillows on the floor, having slid off the bed over the course of a night, and some other geeky "here's how you install/setup/run/troubleshoot/investigate this" printouts from work.
The weather was nice last night (I had to head into work due to a power outage, and check my servers) and surprisingly above freezing (44 degrees and not windy when I was out). Above freezing around here is a luxury for the next few months...but I like it, especially at night. I love the dead of winter, being able to see my breath... In fact, I think I'll unearth a year-old post I made on my own personal webpage, which is still down, that I am reminded of...
"I went to see a movie tonight, and if you've seen the movie, you know the voice that I have running in my head as I write these words.
I went to that movie, and I walked out of it, alone, into the cold midwest winter, and I am sure it is near 10 degrees or lower. I love the feeling. It is the dead of the night, last showing of the movie and the air is thick with darkness and the faded orange-yellow of the streetlights. There are almost no people, and fewer cars; the college in this college town is still on break.
I love the winter, especially nights like these. You can walk outside and immediately register the lack of wind; completely dead still cold air, I swear I can sometimes see it crystallize in front of me, almost glistening but not moving. Each step, the air seemingly so thin, so conducive and still, that each tennis shoed step brings up a click on the sidewalk despite their aged wear. Each step not only rings out enough to my ears, but also seems more real when it is this cold, more felt, more experienced.
The cold then bites the nose just before it clears the passages right up. Face tightens within a few steps, by then already enjoying the gust from my mouth with a breath, the air so condensed that I can see twin jets from my nostrils, the air so still, that the lack of wind allows them to stay in their cones until they dissipate.
I love walking in nights like this, this cold, this still, and a town this quiet. It feels like life has suddenly stopped, just for a while. Everything is quiet, dead, still; frozen. I used to walk like this a few years ago, when life was a bit more chaotic, less decided, and was constantly clamoring to be decided; the formative years of early college where one finally chooses the course of his next five to ten. It cleared my mind, it let me think, and yet not think; just feel and experience.
Jeans suddenly feel cold, as the air permeates them and draws up the contrast of warm skin against cold denim. The first few steps in that realization usually bring up a chill through the body, starting in the lower back, deep in the spine just above the tailbone. Teeth clench, drawing out the feeling of tightened face, warding off the natural chills, and yet, at the same time, relishing in the feeling, the feeling of experiencing the cold, experiencing being alive, and experiencing the work of art that the body is as it attempts to operate despite ones efforts.
The thoughts that raced through my mind as I drove the mere blocks home from the theater (I should have walked) are already dissipating like my breath against the steering wheel, seeing the winter night with a windshield covered with splotches of frost already, glistening more than the air itself earlier. It is times like these when I wish I had a tape recorder in my pocket, or a better mental file, to digitally record words straight from my brain...alas, my Muse is always a bit too fleeting for my tastes..."
PS edit: Yes, I go to movies alone...I consider movie-going to be as much a solitary event as a companioned one...mostly because the focus is on the movie, not the person you are with. I go to as many movies alone (and feel quite comfortable) as I do with friends or a burgeoning date...) Unfortunately, I do not remember which movie I saw in the above-mentioned night, but I do remember the theater...
I am not feeling particularly clever and creative near noon today, so pardon the lack of an interesting post.
I need to see a movie tonight, and catch up on the movies that are out right now before they pass me by. I am also catching up on movies I've bought and not watching, as I took in Seven Years in Tibet last night, which I bought on a whim. Definitely a guy movie about a guy and his travels and his eventual "growing up." Very interesting movie made even more interesting because it is a true story...
My room needs cleaning as well, which I hope to finish up today. I love a clean room and enjoy it all the more, yet I find it difficult sometimes to get around to cleaning it. I have most things picked up over the course of two days, and am ready to dust and vacuum basically. I still have some sandwich wrappers laying about, a few empty bottles of Frapuccino (yes, I'm one of the 6 people who admit to liking them), a few coats and jackets, some clean clothes, some new clothes, and a small pile of black and white glass chess pieces and the glass playing board on the floor...the chess set because I currently have no place to effectively set it up on. My bookcase is full up with books and magazines I want to keep (but will likely never need again...the magazines that is, I'll reread books), two pillows on the floor, having slid off the bed over the course of a night, and some other geeky "here's how you install/setup/run/troubleshoot/investigate this" printouts from work.
The weather was nice last night (I had to head into work due to a power outage, and check my servers) and surprisingly above freezing (44 degrees and not windy when I was out). Above freezing around here is a luxury for the next few months...but I like it, especially at night. I love the dead of winter, being able to see my breath... In fact, I think I'll unearth a year-old post I made on my own personal webpage, which is still down, that I am reminded of...
"I went to see a movie tonight, and if you've seen the movie, you know the voice that I have running in my head as I write these words.
I went to that movie, and I walked out of it, alone, into the cold midwest winter, and I am sure it is near 10 degrees or lower. I love the feeling. It is the dead of the night, last showing of the movie and the air is thick with darkness and the faded orange-yellow of the streetlights. There are almost no people, and fewer cars; the college in this college town is still on break.
I love the winter, especially nights like these. You can walk outside and immediately register the lack of wind; completely dead still cold air, I swear I can sometimes see it crystallize in front of me, almost glistening but not moving. Each step, the air seemingly so thin, so conducive and still, that each tennis shoed step brings up a click on the sidewalk despite their aged wear. Each step not only rings out enough to my ears, but also seems more real when it is this cold, more felt, more experienced.
The cold then bites the nose just before it clears the passages right up. Face tightens within a few steps, by then already enjoying the gust from my mouth with a breath, the air so condensed that I can see twin jets from my nostrils, the air so still, that the lack of wind allows them to stay in their cones until they dissipate.
I love walking in nights like this, this cold, this still, and a town this quiet. It feels like life has suddenly stopped, just for a while. Everything is quiet, dead, still; frozen. I used to walk like this a few years ago, when life was a bit more chaotic, less decided, and was constantly clamoring to be decided; the formative years of early college where one finally chooses the course of his next five to ten. It cleared my mind, it let me think, and yet not think; just feel and experience.
Jeans suddenly feel cold, as the air permeates them and draws up the contrast of warm skin against cold denim. The first few steps in that realization usually bring up a chill through the body, starting in the lower back, deep in the spine just above the tailbone. Teeth clench, drawing out the feeling of tightened face, warding off the natural chills, and yet, at the same time, relishing in the feeling, the feeling of experiencing the cold, experiencing being alive, and experiencing the work of art that the body is as it attempts to operate despite ones efforts.
The thoughts that raced through my mind as I drove the mere blocks home from the theater (I should have walked) are already dissipating like my breath against the steering wheel, seeing the winter night with a windshield covered with splotches of frost already, glistening more than the air itself earlier. It is times like these when I wish I had a tape recorder in my pocket, or a better mental file, to digitally record words straight from my brain...alas, my Muse is always a bit too fleeting for my tastes..."
PS edit: Yes, I go to movies alone...I consider movie-going to be as much a solitary event as a companioned one...mostly because the focus is on the movie, not the person you are with. I go to as many movies alone (and feel quite comfortable) as I do with friends or a burgeoning date...) Unfortunately, I do not remember which movie I saw in the above-mentioned night, but I do remember the theater...
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