A number of things are making me a little less, ah, articulate? Solidly planted in reality? Likely to finish a sentence (ah-ha!) than usual right now. One is that I’m having a week (or maybe two) where I’ve been learning, by doing the mid-semester catch-up on all the readings, and I’ve had about five different “oh, wow, cool” moments about things connecting with my own brain. The outcome of all of this has been a bit depressing, but I will save that for later mental wanderings about writing (promises, promises).
(I now get the award for Best Opening Paragraph That Says Nothing. Thanks.)
So, outside of the many moments of things clicking intellectually this week, I’ve got musical stuff going on. Not, as in, I’m not in the cast of “Grease” or anything. I’ve just been having weird moments. First, I killed time on Tuesday afternoon acquiring some new Bright Eyes music, and then — random weirdness — the instructor made a Bright Eyes reference in class*. Then, today, I find out Ben Folds is TOURING right now, and the closest he’s coming to me is Indianapolis, on some horribly inconvenient day that’s already gone on sale. YARGH. How did I miss that he has not only a new album coming out (and thank you, Pepsi bottlecap, for buying me his new single, “Landed,” from iTunes) but a reissue of Whatever and Ever Amen, remastered with 7 (!!!) additional songs added? Eeee! I need to step up my Ben Folds collecting, pronto. It boggles the mind that I’ve lasted this long without owning my own copy of Rockin’ the Suburbs. Oh, so, the weird thing about Ben Folds right now is that he’s got the #10 most popular download on iTunes with his cover of Dr. Dre’s song, “Bitches ain’t S**t.” It took me a second to even go looking for the song, but… heh. Heh heh. I laugh. If you have iTunes and can listen to the 30 second preview, or even just look at the album cover, it’s oddly amusing.
*There’s more weirdness here, really. I took a nap on Thursday, which was supposed to last an hour but was somehow encouraged by the tornado siren testing to last for, oh, 3.5 hours, wiping out class and work. Yay for me. During the nap I had a dream in which I invited my fiction writing class to meet in my apartment. Everything was OK, except that everyone in class had written stories in which the main character was a girl named Jenny, and I kept thinking, why would they do this? Why would they all pick my name? Do they not know that used to be what I went by? Etc. Anyway, I was in the bathroom fretting over a pile of dirty clothes, and when I came out, everyone from class had left because two gay contractors named Alvin and something else had taken over my apartment. They had (while I was fretting about laundry) put in new carpet and repainted the walls and even changed the shape of the apartment, and they explained to me that because I haven’t re-signed a lease (which is true in real life) that they were turning my apartment into their base of operations for some kind of renovation. I was very mad at them, even though they brought with them a flat screen TV and cute little white marker boards with their names on them and looked a bit like the live incarnations of Walter Mitty. I went to the kitchen and, as vengeance, I pulled their expensive cheeses out of the fridge and got out their expensive crackers and was going to eat them, but the cheese was pasty, so I threw it all away. Ha-ha, Alvin! I then went in search of my classmates, who had basically scattered around the parking lot. I tried to convince them to come back inside or to at least hide under the cars in the parking lot, because it looked like a storm was coming, but no one took my advice. End of dream. The additional weirdness is that, in class that evening, the instructor used “Jenny” as his example name for his example stories three times. Totally freaked me out.