Rock Monolith
March 18
The sucky thing about working out is how much time it eats. By the time I got off work, got to the Y, worked out, got home, cooked dinner, and ate, it was 9:45! I'd like to chill out mindlessly for a bit, but I feel like I should get some work done... Sigh. There just aren't enough hours.
The weekend was mixed. I bitched about my sickishness in my last entry, so I won't get into that again... Sunday I got up at a semi-reasonable hour, in a good mood, because it was mine and Heather's meetaversary; I first met her on March 17th, 2001. I had no idea then where I'd be now; I'm glad to be here. I made omelets for breakfast. In the afternoon, we went to see Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain, or, as it has been boringly titled in English, Amelie. It's a lovely film, as you know, if you've seen it; if not, it's every bit as good as you've heard. Afterward we went to Temescal Café, where Heather tapped on her laptop and I fruitlessly attempted to write poetry. (The wheels in my head have not been usefully turning for the past couple of days; I want to write now, but I have a headache, and I'm tired, and so on. Don't know if I'll do anything at all.) When we got home, we had a lovely long frolic to celebrate the good fortune that brought us together. Then we ordered pizza and watched The Simpsons and such and had an altogether nice night.
Today was work, work was good, then home, where I found a CD from my friends in Agent Ink, emo-indie-punk band extraordinaire. For Dancers Only, their new ep, rocks the known universe, and the first track is my favorite AI song (previously available only in my memory of their live shows which I'm too far away to attend now), "Use Stairs, Use Elevators". The loveliness is nigh indescribable. Go, buy their CD, buy both their CDs, and then you, too, shall know the rock. $6 for the new disc, that's 6 songs for $6, merely a dollar a song, and you can listen to each song as many times as you please. That's right. This is serious indie-music value, here. And what's more -- you won't believe this, they're madmen-- they're running a special. Both CDs -- that's the full-length Fractured Sonic Hyper Fuzz and e.p. For Dancers Only -- are available for $8. That is not a typo. $8. That includes shipping. That's 20 songs, over 90 minutes of rockin' good music, for $8. You're a fool if you don't buy. I say this sincerely.
They're my friends, yes, but before they were my friends, they were awesome musicians I admired. I fell in love at their shows. I danced with beautiful women at their shows. I rocked the house down at their shows. Go unto the rock. Ordering info is here. Oh, and the band as a whole has a bloggy journally thing, here, which is neat. The trials and tribulations and triumphs of indie band, etc.
So, yeah, I was excited about getting the new CD. Other nice stuff... got invited to submit poetry to an invitation-only antho. Yum. So nice. I'm reading a Richard Matheson novel which I'll probably review. I got really great crits from Mike Jasper. I get paid tomorrow. I took ibuprofen and my headache's going away. And that's all for now.
Words written since February 1, 2002: 30,400
Words written since last entry: Big nothing, as of now.
Send me a magic time-slowing watch like that kid has in that movie. You know, exactly like the New Accelerator, only I bet the estate of H.G. Wells doesn't see a penny.
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