it began to snow as I approached Gallup, New Mexico. the sun had gone down 4 hours before in a pretty spectacular display that made impressive use of the most vivid blues, purples, and oranges I've ever seen. Ira Flatow was taking calls about Nasa and the Hubble glitch on one of the 56 bazillion random NPR and Discovery Channel podcasts that I secured for the drive out to LA, and my headlights made tiny flashes of light out of the snowflakes, giving the impression that I was hurtling faster than light through outer space.
I tickled my sense of childhood nostalgia by ACTUALLY taking a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Bugs Bunny would be so proud of me. the good news is that in the end I found the Whole Foods Market I was looking for, and now I have 2 delicious, ripe pears, a container full of a mish-mash of chick peas, edamame, fresh pepper slices, tofu, and eggplant, and a small container of yogurt with granola for tomorrow morning. I warmed myself with a very tasty beer I picked up in Oklahoma City, and I'm a little bit worried that the ciders Dru sent home with me will be adversely affected by the cold weather. I brought them to the hotel room to keep them warm, but I don't know how quickly refrigeration will halt the fermentation process. I'd hate to think they're ruined, I was looking forward to popping them open in a few months. possibly to celebrate a raise, or the christening of a new apartment.
tumbleweeds! (I am telling the story of my day backwards, because that is the order in which I remember things.) yes, tumbleweeds. actual, for realz0rz, tangible, honest-to-goodness tumbleweeds that tumbled in the way that old spaghetti westerns taught us they should. small ones, at first, and only one every 10 miles or so. but suddenly I was crossing the Amarillo city line, and weeds of every size, shape, and conceivable dimension were tumbling every which way, snaking under cars, having chicken fights, and bouncing off my windshield. the only appropriate music seemed to be Morricone's score from the good, the bad, and the ugly. so I played that. and for kicks, I played the magnificent seven theme, the silverado theme, and the theme from how the west was won, which kicked on just as I was passing a huge cattle ranch that I could smell even with the windows up. I also witnessed a dust devil, which may not impress some, but I squeaked like a rubber toy when it skipped across the highway, tossing leaves and frightening birds. it may sounds silly, but I love watching wild animals and landbound debris following the invisible energy lines that surround us. it's like pouring iron filings on a paper covering a magnet. they all line up like synchronized swimmers over the surface, and you get a brief glimpse of some wild, natural organization. leaves caught in swirling eddies, creamer dispersing through stirred coffee, flocks of birds following wind currents, and solid cloud cover rumpled like an unmade bed.
new places are filled with wonderful things like that. I don't know why I so rarely acknowledge them in more familiar settings. I could make an effort to correct that, but I think I'd just as soon keep moving for the rest of my life.
and now! I finish watching the science of sleep, take careful notes, and work out some sort of practical application for it.
science is fun.
I tickled my sense of childhood nostalgia by ACTUALLY taking a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Bugs Bunny would be so proud of me. the good news is that in the end I found the Whole Foods Market I was looking for, and now I have 2 delicious, ripe pears, a container full of a mish-mash of chick peas, edamame, fresh pepper slices, tofu, and eggplant, and a small container of yogurt with granola for tomorrow morning. I warmed myself with a very tasty beer I picked up in Oklahoma City, and I'm a little bit worried that the ciders Dru sent home with me will be adversely affected by the cold weather. I brought them to the hotel room to keep them warm, but I don't know how quickly refrigeration will halt the fermentation process. I'd hate to think they're ruined, I was looking forward to popping them open in a few months. possibly to celebrate a raise, or the christening of a new apartment.
tumbleweeds! (I am telling the story of my day backwards, because that is the order in which I remember things.) yes, tumbleweeds. actual, for realz0rz, tangible, honest-to-goodness tumbleweeds that tumbled in the way that old spaghetti westerns taught us they should. small ones, at first, and only one every 10 miles or so. but suddenly I was crossing the Amarillo city line, and weeds of every size, shape, and conceivable dimension were tumbling every which way, snaking under cars, having chicken fights, and bouncing off my windshield. the only appropriate music seemed to be Morricone's score from the good, the bad, and the ugly. so I played that. and for kicks, I played the magnificent seven theme, the silverado theme, and the theme from how the west was won, which kicked on just as I was passing a huge cattle ranch that I could smell even with the windows up. I also witnessed a dust devil, which may not impress some, but I squeaked like a rubber toy when it skipped across the highway, tossing leaves and frightening birds. it may sounds silly, but I love watching wild animals and landbound debris following the invisible energy lines that surround us. it's like pouring iron filings on a paper covering a magnet. they all line up like synchronized swimmers over the surface, and you get a brief glimpse of some wild, natural organization. leaves caught in swirling eddies, creamer dispersing through stirred coffee, flocks of birds following wind currents, and solid cloud cover rumpled like an unmade bed.
new places are filled with wonderful things like that. I don't know why I so rarely acknowledge them in more familiar settings. I could make an effort to correct that, but I think I'd just as soon keep moving for the rest of my life.
and now! I finish watching the science of sleep, take careful notes, and work out some sort of practical application for it.
science is fun.