Fried dough. Yumm.

Princeton University and the Borough participated in something called Communiversity today...basically a giant street fest that closes down the main drag in front of the university. It was a good day.
I had a funnel cake. I like them; I think they are great. However, I think half of a funnel cake would be just as good too (and it won't leave me as loopy from all that powdered sugar.)

Can't get enough of the random

* I own two TVs. This fact is strange for a multitude of reasons, chief among them being that I don't get cable and I get reception on neither of them. They sit next to each other in living room; one set up to watch DVDs, and the other to watch whatever remaining VHS tapes I might have. Backstory: After a few months living here in P-ton, I adopted an old TV that was rather bigger than my current one. However, when I tried to set up the VHS player after successfully setting up the DVD player, I noticed that the cable attachment was broken. So, no VHS on the newer, bigger TV. I've yet to play a VHS tape on the old TV. I would normally take this as a hint to move the old TV in storage, yet I've no more storage space. Two TVs, right next to each other.
* I find that time is generally flying by much too quickly. I can not get a grip on it.
* I don't play guitar nearly as much as I did years ago. Right now it is in its case, as I took it over to my brother's place so that my nephews could play around on it and haven't taken it out since. They broke a string. A fresh package of Ernie Ball Slinkies awaits me on top of the case. I must get to it. For some reason, I've gotten it in my head that I now want a new acoustic guitar. I find it curious how often I play the electric Fender, but I've convinced myself that I want the different sound the acoustic brings out. Really, I think I just want to buy something.
* Paul was right: Ob la di, ob la da.
* Someone asked why I liked reading in coffee shops and not reading at home. They thought this was kind of weird. It's all about the distractions, baby. Without external distractions ("Ooh, that pretty blond/brunette/red head a few tables down studying/reading/being fashionably sensitive but too cool to care!"), I'd have internal distractions, which are incredibly annoying. It's weird...in the coffee shop, I know what I have to filter out, and then my brain goes to work to filter that stuff out (freeing up the part that can still concentrate to melt into the book). If it's quiet and I'm by myself, then my brain is all over the place.
* I find that many of my dreams have something do with water (rivers, lakes, ocean). I do not know why this is, or what that could possibly symbolize. Maybe I go to sleep thirsty, or maybe I am really a fish. There is no telling.

Until I fall asleep...

* I'm listening to Sarah McLachlan's Fumbling Towards Ecstasy. A fantastic album, but it's bothered me that she chose to spell "toward" with the "s." I guess they do things differently in Canada.
* I drove into Princeton for an errand and a stop-off at Small World to finish a book I'd been reading. After parking the car, I walked off toward the direction of the bank. There was a man standing outside a liquor store smoking a cigarette, dressed in a shabby-looking suit coat. He may or may not have been homeless. He said "Hello," and I said "Hi," back. He didn't ask for money, as I suspected he would. As I'm not especially fond of random strangers saying "Hello," for no reason, I thought about walking a different way when i passed back, and I'm not sure whether I should feel bad or guilty about this. I guess I probably should. I've felt guilty about less. He wasn't there at any rate when I walked back.
* A few parking spots down from the coffeeshop stood a bright yellow Lamborghini convertible, parallel parked with precision along Witherspoon Street. Across the street, there was a Mercedes convertible, overshadowed in status by this Lamborghini. I wondered what kind of person it was who drove such a car...a bright, yellow rare Italian car. What did he do for a living? What makes him tick? Why the hell would he parallel park a car that costs more than a good condo on such a busy street. That thing belongs in the garages. I've determined that I do not want a bright yellow Lamborghini.
* Sometimes I just can't drive fast enough. I just want to press that damn peddle down and watch the scenery fly by. I never do. I'm the type of person who stops at stop signs in the middle of nowhere at 2 am in the morning. I cannot reconcile the two tendencies.
* I've just finished reading "Then We Came to the End." It's about an advertising agency that is going through huge layoffs during the dot-com bust. I recommend it. The book, not the lay offs.
* And this is a hypothetical...let's say there is a God, and let's say God loves everyone. How about atheists? Then, God could partake in the lament typical of every cheesy 80s teen movie: "I'm in love with someone who doesn't even know I exist."

This is your brain on music

The author of one of the books I've wanted to read for a while--Daniel Levitin, "This is your brain on music"--held a lecture Thursday in Princeton, so I ditched work a little early to check it out.
It was the first time in a long time I found myself in a lecture hall, and I liked it! I found it interesting how many people had their laptops out (and also was surprised how many of those were macs).
Anyway, the book is about how our brains interpret music. Basically, we learn the language of our culture's music before we are five, and we have the greatest faculty learning musical instruments before we are 10 to 12. So, I guess it makes sense that I'm starting to bring my gee-tar up to my nephews so that they can make some noise.
One thing he suggests is that music expresses emotion more dynamically than other forms of communication. Makes sense. How is it that we can feel so many emotions from hearing one piece of music? How is it that once we relate to that piece of music, it stays with us forever? I just don't believe other forms of communication have that power.
Such an interesting topic, and I can't wait to read the book!
Read a recap of the lecture...

Spring?

So, I think it's finally safe to assume that spring is here. Not a moment too soon! I love spring and summer, and I can't wait to soak up the warmth.

Blue Highways

After years of having it ready on my shelf, I finally dusted off "Blue Highways," by William Least-Heat Moon. I can't believe I've waited this long to read it, as it's pretty much the bible for those who feel not all who wander are lost.

First published in 1982, William Least Heat-Moon's account of his journey along the back roads of the United States (marked with the color blue on old highway maps) has become something of a classic. When he loses his job and his wife on the same cold February day, he is struck by inspiration: "A man who couldn't make things go right could at least go. He could quit trying to get out of the way of life. Chuck routine. Live the real jeopardy of circumstance. It was a question of dignity."

Driving cross-country in a van named Ghost Dancing, Heat-Moon (the name the Sioux give to the moon of midsummer nights) meets up with all manner of folk, from a man in Grayville, Illinois, "whose cap told me what fertilizer he used" to Scott Chisholm, "a Canadian citizen ... [who] had lived in this country longer than in Canada and liked the United States but wouldn't admit it for fear of having to pay off bets he made years earlier when he first 'came over' that the U.S. is a place no Canadian could ever love." Accompanied by his photographs, Heat-Moon's literary portraits of ordinary Americans should not be merely read, but savored.

This book follows pretty well in the footsteps of another similar book, "Travels with Charley," by John Steinbeck (one of my favorites), and I'm really surprised that I've kept it unread on my bookshelf for so long, seeing as how it's a genre I love.
This is a book I feel that can defeat my low attention span. Those come along rarely.

And, I'm gonna jot these future reads down here, just so I don't forget.
Nudge - A book on behavioural economics and social psychology.
This is Your Brain On Music - About how our brains interpret music; cognitive neuroscience.
Then we came to the End - The downward spiral of a company during the dot-com bust. Should be fun.

Fried pickles

One of my favorite things about traveling is finding places that are totally intertwined with where they are. By that I mean the little hole in the wall places where you'll find the locals. It gives traveling a sense of place, if that makes any sense.
Most recently, this would mean a small restaurant/convenience store/gas station in rural West Virginia. Usually a place with that many slashes would make someone run in the other direction, but for me, they give a slice of life that can't be found by any other means.
After a weekend finding new ways to hurt oneself by way of snowboard, my traveling buddy Greg and I found ourselves on the road home through the hinterlands of West Virginia. Growing relentlessly hungry as the afternoon wore on, we stopped at the first place we found.
Long story short, any place that offers fried pickles is tops by me. Finding that place allowed time to slow somehow, and I didn't think of where I needed to be. I felt I actually was in West Virginia for a while.
The same thing happens whenever I go to Switzerland. Reality comes in stark relief when we go to the grocery store right after I arrive in order to get lunch. This has happened a few times...there's a grocery store within the airport/train station complex, so it's rather convenient.
There are many more places like this, but I may leave them for another post...

I should go to sleep

Most nights during the week, I trundle off to bed, ready to fall asleep. Other nights, I'm not anywhere near tired, and while this isn't a problem over the weekends, it does pose a bit of a problem during the week, when the later I stay up brings me closer to the time I have to wake up to get ready for work.
So, every minute I sit here typing is one less minute of sleep.
Grrr. What a bargain.
I guess it could be worse...I could have some hideous form of insomnia that never allows me to sleep. That would truly bite.

BK

Nothing like a late evening run to Burger King to get you out of, and then right back into, the mid-week doldrums. I should know this by now... french fries do not have the same calming effect as ice cream, no matter how tasty.