"That which is overdesigned, too highly specific, anticipates outcome; the anticipation of outcome guarantees, if not failure, the absence of grace."
-- William Gibson, All Tomorrow's Parties
"Downstairs they're playing Kenton."

Went to get food with Eric C. and Kyle this afternoon. The place we were going to was closed, but we ran into Sophy and Adam while Eric was parking. After some brief snowball volleys, we stopped by Springboard to check out the Mac Mini, then headed back to S and A's place for some patented O'Donnell pasta. Hung out, watched Natural City, a Korean rip-off of Blade Runner, Aliens, and a half-dozen other movies.

Actually pretty decent flick, all around. Sophy is such an incredible girl while watching movies. I had completely forgotten how she acted during Hellboy (hiding her face at the "gory" bits), but wow. Girlie.

On my way home (about a 25 block walk) I saw four or five snowball fights and two cop cars stuck in snowbanks. The second one I had to stop and laugh at.

While crossing Broad, what had to be UArts kids were discussing the smell of one of the girls shit. They seemed to come to the conclusion that her shit only smells good when she eats lots of avacado.

Other than the roaming UArts spazzes, it's really awesome when the city gets any real snow: Everyone takes to walking down the middle of the street, hardly any cars out. Everyone's in an entertained mood. Hell, I almost joined in the biggest of the snowballl fights I witnessed, but I had my laptop with me.

Dropped my shit off at the apartment (distracting Pete from WoW for a few seconds), then headed down to Wawa. On one of the side-streets I use to get there, there were these two kids taking turns pegging each other with snowballs. They were so engrossed in this behavior they didn't notice me, and I had to announce myself: "Non-com in the CZ, yo."

A group of older people standing outside the Wawa were waiting for some of their friends inside. One, a woman of perhaps forty, was laughing because the check-out guy carded her for her smokes. "What a sweetheart." "You should go back in there and kiss him." No doubt snowballs were thrown for that comment, but I was on my way inside.

The two gunslinger-wannabe kids were still at it when I came back from procuring junk food and soda.

It still weirds me the hell out when my hair freezes.

January 22, 2005 9:06 PM