Haha ..you 3 Blind Bats..

Went on my "morning" constitutional: at noon.  Listening to Nirvana's Nevermind for the anger, to build a new song.  Had just finished listening to "Polly", turned a corner, and saw the following:

• a giant, white Victorian birdcage for sale. Obviously once for  a large bird. Empty. 100.oo OBO
• directly in my line of sight, between me and the cage, a dead bird lying on the road, one wing lifted off the road as if struggling against its fate of having been run over.

Reminds me of the day I saw an egret swallow a snake whole on the Pinellas Trail.

July 30, 2012, 10:05 pm.

 Johnny Lydon would say, "This Is Not A Love Song-gg-hh!"  But then, try not to think about the white bear....

Why am I posting here?  I know perfectly well why.  Something to do with garages and organic chemistry.  Triple carbon chains are such hardass , metaphysical things.

So, as a result, I went on one of my evening excursions , too restless in mind for books, movies, feeling some intenseness that could not be summed up neatly by others in any art form, even music.  Considered Morrison for a soundtrack,nope, although he is profound, he is too callous about the whole concept.   And the old sad standby, Morrissey, the Smiths.  Wouldn't do, not even something like "In the river the color of lead... she could've been a poet or... she could've been a fool, " .  Although the" I'm not happy, and I'm not sad", line is quite fitting..plus i love that Johnny Marr tagline after:  Doooo-doo-da-da dat-dat  doo.

 I step outside, note a full moon surrounded in cirrus clouds, looking like a miniature Milky Way.  Beautiful.  Let the fates decide my IPOD choice.  Sigur Ros.  Which reminds me that someone with a very kind heart was once thinking of me.  This makes me feel happy-sadness.  The songs are like a lullaby; this is good.  There is someone I'd like to send this to, for peaceful, lovely dreams--funny how the toy piano here is not in the least sinister or menacing, as it is in Nautilus Pompilius.  It is something that could erase memory, which is also good,  and it is therefore hard to remember  after it has passed.  I want to say out loud, to the moon and whoever is listening, "There is more in heaven and earth than is dreamt in your philosophy"...especially to someone who already knows this*.

  Earth.

Sigur Ros, in another foreign language.  But too loud. Even though it is fairly mellow music compared to what I often listen to. I actually turn it down (not UP, as is my usual tendency) three times as I commence on my journey to--my magnum opus?  This of course is what I am actually looking for.  In my hand, my new favorite concoction, red wine shot with Gran Marnier, or orange brandy, rather indulgent for a school teach--something I suppose could get me arrested for public consumption, but who's gonna mess with a quiet, introverted woman's  wanderings,, minding my own business--not causing any grief.  I am looking for a suitable rendez-vous spot with myself, as I might paraphrase Paul Westerberg.  I, even, avoid the man walking his twin, well-brushed, obviously overly-loved white miniature dogs. I'm convinced people buy cute dogs and walk them for the attention.  No, sir, I do not want to pet your adorable dogs--I am not the type to coo and sigh, sorry, I rarely do that even over the most beautiful  babies.  Except my own of course, because they were quite, quite beautiful.    But I do bother to wander dangerously close to my place of employ, navigating a rather busy road..hah! Catch me if you can!

The tears didn't show, all day, until I rounded the corner for my street.  Jesus, how long has it been since i've done this, and not even for my own problems?? What did it? The power of the lullaby concept.

Yes, it was a day of heavy weight; yes I felt the press. I am a veteran of these wars...4 times.  Five,  if you count my own which really NO one knows about.  I pretty much handled it on my own..didn't have anyone I trusted.   Pain.  Pain. Relentless.Pain..pain..pain..pain..never ending, throbbing pain. Pain.  In these, some successful, two horrifyingly not.  Some still on the fence, or I don't know.  I forgot to eat, even drink water, and my coffee stayed in the little Italian metal pot, pouting, I imagine, until well past late afternoon today.  But these lullabies remind me of how I used to sing my son to sleep, at his request, for only me, every night for 5 years, the same song; "The Bare Necessities" from the Jungle Book.  And lullabies are love songs.

That is what today reminded me of.  Except the lullaby was  sung by Robert Plant.   And even though it made me feel the weight and gravity of earth, I would be willing to do it again, if necessary, although it would be so tight if it were never necessary again.   Or if the outcomes were always the same.   Good Night, sweet prince, and flights of angels send thee to thy---repose.  Which is not best accomplished in a garage*.

 And I don't think the Romans are right--the brave do not do it with a sword--the cowardly do.   Semantics.

There are other souls made to give you wings.


Aug. 7, 2012, 9:36 p.m.

Yesterday night, another walk in the rain.  Merely to send out something, sense the spin...I had a feeling.  And it turned out true, which gave me a nice day today.  Thank you,  beneficent universe, for being on my side.  I believe in you.    Even if a little  mask wearing was necessary, it  was still quite, quite pleasant all around.  You don't always screw me over....my thanks again.

Aug. 9, 2012, 2:06 p.m.

But was it enough?

Aug 11, 2012, 11:49

 Apparently not.    I feel I am taking small trips to rarified air, but coming down is rather hard.  I have always found beauty in odd things:  pure symmetry bores me.   I know that most of the world does not see through my oddly  colored glass--glass darkly--glass beatified--glass streaked with the blood and bubbled (hand-blown) with the  reality of truth.  My truth. The hard part is the farther I fall into this vision, the less I feel connected to the world I have to live in, to bake my bread.  I am having a hard time not sending bad vibrations to my real world.  Wonder how long it will be before I no longer feel smoke in my capillaries?

Aug. 20, 2012, 9:35 p.m.
 
"Oh, Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.  I'm just a soul whose intentions are..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2FT4FprxDg


Art surely is dangerous.   For one thing, two people, who maybe even know each other pretty well, might have different ideas about what said piece of art means--a poem, a song, a story, a painting.  Add to that intense imagery, and--Explosion.  No wonder ideas are the ultimate danger.  No wonder Big Brother is watching. No wonder self-expression makes you cry.   No wonder there are more things than are dreamt...  And you 3 are having a grand old time of it.  I was going for the less obvious. 

Aug. 24. 2012, 8:50 p.m.

Last night the milky way moon was back, but a half moon, with a perfect man-in-the-moon face like in kids' books.  I think I need a walk.  Or cognac. I'm beginning to feel out of step.  Went out to dinner, mildly pleasant, fairly amusing the fortune cookies "in bed" jokes.
But I am feeling homesick..for What?  The Past.  I need anesthesia.  I need smoke and mirrors and romance (not that kind: the more bohemian, decadent kind).  Where the  hell am I gonna find that?  Well, znaio--I gotta make my own: DIY.  Brandy gave me a weird morning after effect.  Not really a hangover.  Like some dragonfly went into my brain overnite and strip-cleaned all my nerves with Pine-sol.

 Aug 26, 2012, 5:13 p.m.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahaha--------

I go to the liquor store and see that they are now selling Absinthe in the U.S. where it was once illegal.  But here's the funny part....brand name?   Mephisto. 
I'm staying far away......
What a day.  Isaac. 

The local news coverage of the Republican National Convention in Tampa put a thought in my head that amuses me.  Seems the local authorities are making it quite difficult to protest anywhere near the convention sites, and people have come from all around the country to protest.  They are getting hassled to show I.D. over and over, being restricted where they can make noise, walk, eat, obtain water,  making it difficult to put up tents and shelters, in spite of the hurricane and rain.  Apparently it is illegal to park anywhere in downtown Tampa, ( I bet not for GOP bigwigs) and there is increased Secret Service presence everywhere.  I'm pretty sure my friend Lori is there.


So the conventioneers are essentially barricading themselves into the convention center against the gathering hordes.  My amusing thought?  It's the "Masque of the Red Death", the Poe story.  Someone on the other side ought to infiltrate by sending a plague victim in masquerade.

Spirituality  and sex are emulsifying in my brain...never say never.

Sept 1, 2012, 11:47 p.m.--as the Brits say--Walkies. For more than an hour listening to Shameful Star --позорная звезда, and Opium--  опиум--walked all the way to T.I., trying to sing the lyrics--failing, but whatever,  probably making insomniacs all along the way.  Stupid genius idea for getting the Russian sounds in my head and rolling around my mouth, even if I haven't a clue what I'm saying.   It will work eventually, I know. Made me remember that the first song I fell for was on Opium-- a sorta rave-ish supertectonic, electronic sounding song that normally wouldn't be mine.  The third song, абордаж.  Still no idea what it means--radiant song.  Woke me up in the morning for weeks.  And now I see it's not even very typical.  Next was more in keeping--the Black Moon song.  After that all hell broke out.

October 3, 2012, 11:24 p.m.--

Another strange harmonic (as Stephen King would call it) today.   So I've had a few days where I've been on a big Bad Brains' resurge.  Which led me to speculate--did I ever give this most incredible album, I Against I, to moy droog? Definitely should have-- Couldn't remember, and it was bugging me, almost to the point of asking point blank. I knew I had seriously thought about it, even wrote it as a suggestion in my notebook, but did I follow through?  So, today, out of nowhere, his bandmate tells me, with no more connective matter than the fact that we were talking about the music we liked in general:  "Oh, yeah, Efim gave me an copy of music you gave him:  Bad Brains. "  
Yeah. It's another of those perfect albums.  If you're in the mood for reggae hardcore punk.

Oct 6:  Drone on..Voltaire, Rousseau...

Oct 19, 9:40p.m.  Walk Time--always produces results.

Oct. 29, 5:08p.m.-----Hey Fates,   C'meeer....got something I wanna tell ya....

Nov. 5, 7:46p.m.Why/why/why/why/whywhy/why/ why me.   I'm going outside to walk to a bench and ...do what....?  Feel something.   9:16p.m.--Golf Creek Park(AKA Shit Creek) is a good deserted place to forget where you really are.  While I was there it seemed like it was 1977.  The music I was listening to helped that.  But somehow I felt like MacBeth , "on the bank and shoal of time."  Close your eyes.  It's about to begin.

Dec 3 2012--

Something, something is definitely up.  I have a feeling znaio chto.  More than likely it will be you saying "hi" for me, ironically. And not in a movie version. Go well,пожалуйста . 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E6MksZvcB9A
 Then again, maybe I'm wrong.  What is going on???

Dec 6.: Just. Sad.  Beautiful days can do that.

Dec 16:  OK.  New online friend, both separately and within a 24 hour period, send the same song (that neither of us heard before yesterday) to the same mutual friend, without each other's knowledge, but probably for the same reason.  Logic, or vibe?

Dec. 22:  It just keeps getting worse.  Or better, depending on your perspective.  Right now?  Worse. плохоплохоплохоплохо.

Dec 24:  These things take time.  And patience.  And tolerance immeasurable.  And pure love. And big doses of self -knowledge.  Which I'm not sure if I have.  But, I have to have more than the average idiot.

Dec 25:  Hell.  I live there.  It's murky.
Dec 27:  I survive.  Big picture has a little focus.  Come back to reality.  Still, a lot of good, in my mind anyway.  Life can be extremely beautiful if you let it play out right.

Dec 31, 11:50.  Going for a New Year's Walk.  To assess all my life's newest.  It smells like sulfur and exploded chemicals outside.  Music?  We'll see what happens.
Of course.  Iggy.  Raw Power.  Destiny plays its hand again.

Jan 24, 2013:  Nope. Nothing.  Feel like all circuits are dead.
Feb 3:  Dreams??

Feb 10:  HOLY GODDAMMIT!  As Alex Perchov would say. (He's the Ukrainian guy in Everything is Illuminated).

 I have just had an EPIPHANY-- an epiphany of rare device.

 Epiphany Sunday.

  Thank you, thank you, my morning bed, the soft light, the droning fan,  all my memories, and, ok (grrr..) you three.  I have been doubting myself.   Of course, it has always been there, under the layers of distraction, of the time wasting search caused by  boredom--and the avoidance of work.  Add to that a super crazy schedule, the play, the band, school evaluation, jury duty,  St. Augustine...why the hell am I doing what I am doing?  And the way I am doing it?  It was some sort of pacifier, a calmer, a comfort, a thumb-sucker.

Here is what  really is.  From Romantic theory--Coleridge's  damsel with the dulcimer, looking for the end parts of Kubla Khan.  Mary Shelley's Frankenstein Dream, opening its yellow eyes. Percy's Skylark, Wordsworth's beautiful Abbey, all the magic that inspired them .... 

  I understand.  I understand.  I understand.  I understand.  I understand.  Yes, I finally understand.  And will act in accordance.  I shake off many costumes and behaviours from the past.


May 27:   New Harmonics--courtesy of Victor Pelevin who keeps filling me up with this stuff!!

I have been looking for one of those "Magic Eye"--3-D pictures  (you have to unfocus/focus your eyes to see the 3D image when you waste time staring at it) to use for the set of my play next year: a hipster tchotchke?  I posted one online, tried to make one for fun with the copier...still haven't looked for one to buy on line, which I will probably eventually do..

But where do I find one?  Written about, anyway ...The Sacred Werewolf  book.  Very large writ:  the whole wolf/ super wolf God-like question---also relates to the Bad  Wolf  theme in Dr. Who as well, end of the world, etc.  Astronauts.

I was just deciding to read Bulgakov's Heart of a Dog, and there it is, part of the book's end.  And I'm seeing Sartre's fingerprints (esp Nausea) all over this book.  Maybe we just gravitate towards the same things.
Also there's all that weird crap about the difference between sex and masturbation, his observations about the hygiene rituals of humans before and after sex, and the ludicrous absurdity of the human in their lack of control of when and for whom  they feel the sexual impulse--not there when you want it, there when you don't want.   Sometimes it feels like we are whispering secrets in each other's ear. I quote:  "Human Amorous[ness] is an extremely unstable feeling."  Da.  So, ignore it for the best satisfaction.

July 6, 2013:
Oh, Muse.  I feel a little lost.  But I know there is something there I am supposed to make.  I need a good, strong connection.  The skeleton is there.


July 21,2013;
Some strange grey and white cat keeps showing up at my door at night.  Last night it was 'round midnight, and it was staring right in through the French windows of my front door, with this eerie glow, mostly in its eyes, and it didn't even blink when it realized we were staring back at it.  Finally, I made a "scat" moment, and it backed away.  But a few moments later I see it still had only moved a few feet, onto the little brick sidewalk near the door, as if it was calculating when to come back.  All night my tabby, Stella, was keeping a vigil at the top of the stairs, and I kept wondering if the other was still somewhere invisible outside.  Its been a mezzaluna, these nights.

Nov 2, 10pm….

Goddammit….sometimes I truly cannot tell when you are fucking with me or when there is some human intervention, some one else's life at stake.  I'm walking.

богы: думаю  что вы должен мне большущий извинений--for the mess you've made in my brain.

Dec 12:   @%$%#^87&(*())&%$%#%*&((((!!!!!!!!!!!!???????????????????????

Jan 26:  Went to the movies in Pinellas Park, (saw Her--it was good!)  and since I was in the neighborhood, decided to visit the old Beaux Artes property.   Jim Morrison's and Kerouac's haunt before it burned.   This was cool:  I dug around in the old well there, and found what I left.  It was a little rusty. I took it this time.  So, what are you guys trying to tell me?  Maybe I should go for a walk in the rain tonight.

April 7:  I am punishing myself today by wearing my uniform.   I am punishing myself for allowing myself to be so happy.  For dreaming stupid, unrealistic things.  For picturing a better world in my crazy, crazy mind.  I deserve it.

May 16:  Odd divination today. I decided to be nostalgic and indulged in listening to Low today. After hearing all my loves,  I got to "Always Crashing in the Same Car" just as I got onto the sidewalk , walking along the jasmine-heavy chain-link fence, which is in full, overpowering bloom now--a little too sweet for me..and Bowie says to me, in my ear, "Jasmine, I saw you peeping."

Jun 13:  xaxaxa you all:  horoscopes.  Aren't you funny, playing with my mind..

July 21, 2014:
You all are there in my head again... You must have got a big charge at sending me this randomized playlist on VK this morning (well, I did):

• The Swans--"New Mind"
• Наутилус Помпилус-- "Автор"
• Radiohead--"Creep"
• Moa Pillar--"Lakota Thunder"
• Joao Gilbert--"Aguas de Marco (The Waters of March)"
• Земфира--  "Синоптик"
• Nouvelle Vague-- "God Save the Queen"
• Земфира-- "Жить В Твоей Горове"
• Minor Threat--"Seeing Red"
• Morrissey--"Irish Blood, English Heart"
• Matthew Herbert--"Cafe De Flore"
• A-ha--"Celice"
• Portishead--"Numb"
• Sonny Rollins-- "Blue Seven"
• The Sugarcubes (Bjork)--"Deus"
• Ленинград-- "Жопа"---"У неё такая жопа...."
• The Smiths--"Suffer Little Children"  moor sounds like morgue to me..
• The Cure--"If Only Tonight We Could Sleep"
• Jo Jo Gunne--"Run, Run, Run
• Telefon Tel Aviv--"Sounds in a Dark Room"
• A-ha --"You Wanted More"

Maybe no one else would get it, but I do..

August 5, 2014:  Oh, no.  This is terrible.  I just found out what the name of the AK song I've always liked means--"абордаж"?   Abortion.
September 24:  Forgot to correct the above mistake--although I have a dictionary with this translation for the word, apparently in context  it's more like a violent boarding of a ship--but probably with a sexual connotation... I like that better than what I was thinking--more like the pirate theme elsewhere for this band, who seems to relish unchecked behavior.  It works better with the music, too.

October 31:  All Hallow's Eve--the devil's date.  I'm beginning to think it is correct, in the same way as M&M.  And Romeo---Fuck you, starry.  I'm gonna die one day, anyway, right?  Why not live before that.  Fit.  It really is, all about the fit, don't you think?

November 10:

Another strange randomized playlist:  This wouldn't be so weird if I didn't have 2000 songs on my database:

"Troublant Bolero"--The Rosenberg Trio
"The Girl From Ipanema"  The Astrud Gilberto version with Sax solo
"Time To Dance"-Tricky
"Little Wing"-Skid Row
"A Forest"  The Cure--I thought that one was gone from my database per record company bullshit
"Пират"-Aгата Кристи
"Are Friends Electric?"-  Gary Numan
"Right Place, Wrong Time"--Dr. John
"What The World Needs Now Is Love, Sweet Love"--Mr. Bungle
"Будь Моей тенью"-  Сплин

Leave me alone....

Dec 1:  Now here's a totally cool movie sending me good southern vibes: Closer.  Pretty hot in all the right ways.

December 28, 2014:  (to keep it all in perspective):  So there's all this weird cop vs. blacks/hispanics/common people thing that keeps happening, bigger and bigger.  Even though my daughter went to a leftie protest, I still thought it was far from me.  NOT!

Keep in mind:  I'm the sort that gets pulled over, they look at my totally clean, no arrests, no tickets record and they say--"Sorry to trouble you, ma'am".  Even better if I happen to have my school military uniform on--stupid, unfair, but true.

So I've had some recent car problems--driving in cars, and places unfamiliar.  Things to get used to , like bigger cars, unfamiliar LA streets where I saw my life flash, briefly.  New cars without automatic headlights, like my new-to-me Camry.  So Joe and I are leaving Seminole Mall, heatedly discussing Birdman, the movie we'd just seen, which let out at twilight, and I had forgotten to turn on the headlights of my new-to-me Camry, because a) they don't turn on automatically, like the car I'm used to b) it's barely dark, and c) the parking lot is so well lit I don't notice.

I get on Seminole Blvd, and this overly aggressive, somewhat paranoid lady cop (she could have been one of my students 10 years ago)  goes all weird on me.  Pulls me over for my lights--I pull into a liquor store parking lot.  She's shorter, and a good 20 years younger than me, not that she'd know this.  She says she's "concerned" about my driving (the lights), and the fact that I opened my car door to talk to her--only bad perps do this she tells me--I'm like, I have had so few times of being pulled over--sorry, I don't know the protocol.

She  called for backup--another lady cop.  Makes me get out of the car.  Makes me do the drunk test.  Wants to know why I pulled into a liquor store lot, if like I said, I was just at the movies (two blocks back BTW)..I wanna say, DUH!  you pulled me over!!  Where else should I go!!  But, in a moment of insight, I apologize, and tell the half-truth that son and I  (A school teacher)were going to make a Rum cake for New Years (this part is totally true!  The results posted con FB!) and needed to go to the liquor store--at 6pm!!!  to get the Whaler's or Tortuga Rum we needed to make the cake.   I think the amount of random detail threw her, and she decided her paranoia was for nought, although my seething sarcastic belligerence must have been on the verge of manifesting.  I really can't stand being this misunderstood.

She tells me, "I don't know you", that I did all the wrong things, and I'm lucky she's letting me off with a warning.  I know a cop just got shot in Tarpon Springs, and cop hate is in the air, but if she could make such a mountain out of this tiny headlight incident, something is definitely wrong on the rotten  joint states of Denmark and Police Academy.

This all sends me very worrisome vibes about the future, in general.

Feb 28: Road-generated, Randomized playlist, a time machine organized by the ether:

--Asaf Avidan, "Reckoning Song"
--Depeche Mode, "Love Thieves"
--Cradle of Filth, "Devil woman"
--Mark Knofler, "Don't Forget Your Hat"
--Depeche Mode, "Higher Love"
--Земфира, "Ракеты"
--Modest Mouse, "Lampshades on Fire"
--Машина Времени,  "Я сюда ещё Вернусь"
--Depeche Mode, " Halo"

May 20:  Randomized 3BB playlist of the week---

I played: Tito and Tarantula--"Strange Face of Love"

Got:
--Brian Eno--"Here Come the Warm Jets"
--Ирония судбы или с лёгким паром --"Если У Вас Нету Тёти"  (!!)
--The Dead Weather--"Hustle and Cuss"
--Машина Времени --"Ты или Я"
--The Stooges--"Penetration"
--Bastille-- "Laura Palmer"
--Агата Кристн-- Извращение
--Детский Академический хор--"Smells Like Teen Spirit"
--Nine Inch Nails--"Head Like A Hole"
--Gnarls Barkley--"Whose Gonna Save My Soul?"
--David Bowie--"Moonage Daydream"
--Swans--"Like A Drug"
--Built To Spill--" Living Zoo"
--John Legend--"Who Did That To You?"
--Bauhaus--"Adrenalin"
David Bowie--"Breaking Glass"

Not very helpful, really....I mean, I already knew all that.

June 1, 2015:

Today's secretly sent playlist:

--Bjork--"Hidden Place"
--The Cure--"More Than This"
--Alice Cooper-- "Be My Lover"
--Brian Eno --"Another Green World"--the whole album
   **so since this is long, I'll get back to you of what else came up**
--love some lines in this one, like when he finally sees his love, he's gonna tie her shoe--
Later: oh, God--
--Агата Кристи-  "Красная Шапочка" (again!?)
--A-ha--"Velvet"
--Nirvana--"Love Buzz"
--Tracy Reilly--Poolside "Seeds of Memory"  --crap.
--Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds--"There Is A Light"  (no, not the Smiths song).

August 6: I had this really dissonant, odd moment happen to me today, that almost seemed like a dream.  I went to Publix, in "the big Car" my in-law's old one, which I hate to park, so therefore I'm overly cautious.  Go into the underground garage.  There's only one place I can fit, and there's this big ugly square SUV next to the place I want to go--with its lights on ready to pull out.  I wait a few minutes, to let them go, thinking it will be easier for me to park, but they don't go.  So finally, I say, WTF, they're just sitting there, so I start to slowly pull in, realize I have a bad angle, so I stop, readjust the wheel.  (I'm still in the aisle, mind you, not the parking slot. )

 I'm wondering, why doesn't this bastard next to me go, and make things easier for both of us?  )   Anyway, I line up perfectly, so there's like 8 inches inside the lines of the space I'm in on the driver's side. Great--a triumph. So, I get parked, and I take a minute or two to deal with my phone, so I can  listen to music in the store, gather my bags, my purse, etc.  It suddenly occurs to me this asshole next to me still hasn't pulled out.  What is he doing? I think just barely under consciousness.  I have my door cracked about five inches (still not crossing the white line) and my foot out on the parking garage floor.  I start to get out and realize there is this Posh little Brit man next to me trying t get my attention.

He says, "No, I think maybe it's okay, you don't seem to have marked it."  He's very nervously  rubbing the perfect paint job of his grey SUV (it looks like a rental, BTW.)

I say, "Excuse me?"  He says, no I felt it, you hitting me. "  I'm like " what the hell are you talking about? " He claims I bumped him because "he felt it"--no, it couldn't be anything else   causing a bumpy feel in this crowded, loud parking garage with 70 other cars?  A big bass woofer even?   I point out how my car is lined up almost perfectly and several inches within the lines, which doesn't seem a recipe for an angle to "bump' him.  Plus, there''s not a fucking mark on his stupid car!!!  I never felt a thing, and I was quite aware they were there in my way...being..errrgggh.

I decide the guy is just some sort of obsessive weirdo, and say whatever, get my stuff together, and walk away.  I'm not usually that rude and dismissive, but I'm not going to stand around all day obsessing with someone in their paranoia.   His wife even, was looking anxiously at him, but they couldn't find a thing to qualify their bad feelings.  They were still standing there looking after I'd already hit the automatic glass doors to the building.  Oy, vey.  The funny thing is, my car is covered with dings, because my FIL has had some trouble parking in his own garage these days--so I'm thinking the Brits decided my FILs dings proved I hit them.   Hah-hah, how logic and evidence can get you in trouble!!!


Nov 30, 2015:  New Magically sent Music:

I choose:   Bjork:  "Crying"
Fates send--
                 The Beatles:  "I'm Only Sleeping"
                  Константин Никольский  "Моя Любовь Сменила Цвет"
                  The Smiths:  "These Things Take Time"
                  John Lurie:  "Pancakes"
                  The Matrixx :   "Sin"
                  Агата Кристи: " Никогда"
                  Nick Cave and the Birthday Party:   "Release the Bats"
                  Romeo Void: "I Might Like You Better (if we slept together..)"

Jan 28:   So...today this sort of strange thing happened.  In my dropbox, which I mostly use exclusively to communicate with my writing group:  we share our own original short stories, and the stories of other writers, sometimes very famous writers, that we want to discuss with each other.  Like, soon, I guess, Bex and I will probably tackle Bulgakov's "Heart of a Dog".   It's in the Dropbox, in a PDF. I have a Russian version in the same book that has "Morfine". Thanks to my good friend.

But suddenly, today appeared, the entire Ночной Дозор.  In Russian.  Kak? pochemy?  I wouldn't have done it--I already read it, in Russian.  At first Bex said she was the culprit, the fairy, but then she said oh, not that.. the Bulgakov is the Russian I put in.    I wondered because the whole thing was in Russian, which no one but me in our group  would even recognize.  And I didn't do it... so weird.