Oh for gods sake.

Apparently the entire friggin' world is moving in to my apartment building this weekend. Another truck just pulled up.

So maybe the people I walked in on will be gone.

You want to hear that story? Great! It's not that bad of a repeat:

03.02.05

I'm waiting online for an email and bored. So I was trying to think up a rant.

Nothing.

I guess it's mainly because I'm home most of the day. All the wackiness is out in the big world.

I did notice something today. You see, I'm not one to meddle in the affairs of my neighbors. Mainly because they're probably not that interesting. But in a building with thin walls and my being located next to the stairwell, I tend to play "Who's that neighbor"

But the most amusing neighbor anecdote involves the laundry room in the basement. The hallway basement looks like a hospital. It's sort of creepy. And the laundry room is no better: gray, dingy, with a small washer and dryer that costs $5. Each.

I was waiting for a cycle to end and kind of surveying the surroundings, rather bored. And I noticed a mystery door next to the dryer. I figured it was another storage area. And who doesn't feel like wandering around a random storage area at 2 in the morning?

On a hunch, I grabbed my front door key, tried the lock, opened the door, and stepped in.

To someone's apartment.

Not only was it someone's apartment, but the TV was on, I could hear someone moving around, and there was a pot of food bubbling on the stove a few feet away from me.

So I did the only thing I could do: quickly and quietly closed the door, grabbed my clothes, and ran like hell.

Insomnia strikes again. The bastard.

It's 5:08 am and I can't sleep. I tried for a bit around 2:30 am but there's only so much staring at the ceiling one can do before it's time to change tactics.

I contemplated trying to give myself a concussion, but then realized that might not be the best plan. Because if I hit my head too hard it would be a few days before anyone found me. And Ramona isn't exactly my biggest fan. That cat would start to eat me even before I was dead.

Little vulture.

As the RNC looms on the horizon (or just over the horizon and to the right, if you look out my apartment window) there's all sorts of speculation on who will be McCain's runningmate.

I'm actually going to the RNC next week to watch the speeches. And by "going to the RNC" I mean going to a restaurant near the convention center. And by "watch the speeches" I mean watch the bedlam that will hopefully ensue. I'll be bringing a bandana along in case there's tear gas or I'm feeling particularly jaunty.

I'm not claiming to be obsessed with hot male actors lately, but I was watching The Cleaner tonight and the junkie of the week was Chris Camargo (of Dexter fame).

Woof.

Although maybe it's something about strung-out junkies.

My mom has been watching Eli Stone lately and was 1) shocked that Jonny Lee Miller was actually not American and B) surprised that I found him sexay.

So I tried explaining the whole Trainspotting and Sickboy thing. Didn't do much to help.

The only reason I actually tuned into The Cleaner anyway (I think it's a weak show overall) was because Nina from 24 was on it. I saw her on the preview and she still scares the crap out of me.

It is, arguably, 120 degrees in my apartment.

Which is awesome when I'm dealing with a Minnesota winter. But not so awesome when it's summer.

It's friggin' warm.

So on Project Runway we have drag queens tonight.

Here's my problem with drag queens. They are way more fabulous than I have any right to be. The fierceness that they contribute to the world is beyond my comprehension.

In other news: have I mentioned that Max Martini is on Burn Notice this week?

So I get a little screamy when I see actors I adore in other TV shows.

This time? Friggin Max Martini on Burn Notice.

There's so many things wrong with that it makes my head explode. But the main point would have to be that Max Martini is so indescribably awesome it's just not right.

And I wrote this randomly, so I should probably include that Max Martini is in The Unit. A show I have been obsessed with since it came out. David Mamet is involved in the show. Which sort of creates massive amounts of good.

So back in... uh... 2004, come to look it up, I wrote about Madame Shoo Shoo, which was (as far as family lore goes) painted by my grandfather on the side of a bomber during WWII.

Today I was over at my mom's doing laundry (yay clean clothes!) and finally grabbed one of the two things I asked for after my Grandma died—a photo collage which included Madame Shoo Shoo. Grandpa is in the middle. Handsome guy, frankly.

Grandpa was in the Army (a pre-Air Force branch of the Army) and was stationed over in England. His job I guess was to identify planes by their sound.

I sort of wonder if his actual position wasn't a little different. We have hundreds of photos that were taken in-air of an airplane dropping bombs over Europe. Plus I have a huge cloth map of Germany. You know the kind that are used to show pilots where to fly and where to bomb? Yeah, one of those. I should really get it framed in archival quality.

I woke up this morning and thought, "What the hell?" Because my jaw hurt. So I went over the events of the last 24 hours and realized it was from laughing way too much.

Which is what happens when your best friend in the whole entire universe that you haven't seen for ten years finds you on Facebook and emails you, so you email back and forth for a bit and then have lunch the following week with her and then end up spending the entire rest of the day and night catching up.

And that was the most satisfying run-on sentence I have ever had the pleasure of inflicting upon the world.

In other words: my psychic twin is back.

So I ended up watching the opening ceremonies last night. Which were pretty cool.

What struck me as interesting was that they did the whole "The Olympics transcends politics and war!" "It's a special time!" and then during the ceremony they would take time to mention all the conflicts that were currently ongoing. Georgia, for one. Or the fact that Zimbabwe's "president" was not allowed entry into China. Or all sorts of other things that ended up making them look sort of gossipy.

And yet? I didn't hear one mention of Tibet. Which I thought odd to say the least. They even went on and on about how this was China's big moment and how it would affect them as a world power and/or player. But not one mention of Tibet. I'm not saying it was a huge conspiracy, I just found that its absence said more than if they had mentioned it.

But that's neither here nor there. I leave that to people better-versed in the subject to ponder. What I do have is a rather lovely recording of the song "Tibet" by Larry Long, who is a singer/songwriter of some note.

He's also a client, but I can honestly say he's a pretty amazing guy. This song is from his upcoming album (he's been in the studio lately):

Tibet by Larry Long

It's based on his work within the schools, bringing elders from the community to tell their story to the children. This song tells the story of one of those elders. I think it's pretty wonderful.

So I'm a little late to this, but about one year and one half day ago, the bridge connecting downtown Minneapolis and Northeast Minneapolis via 35W collapsed.

It wasn't supposed to (what bridge is?). And even though the casualties were minor (what casualties are ever truly minor?) it impacted a lot of people.

But perhaps out of the blue I came upon a post tonight from a survivor pulled out of the water after falling from the bridge on that day. I should sort of put in the addendum that I came upon it because I designed the site (not build--smarter people than I did that). It was a good and true story that you can read here.

In other news: The anvil? Is going down.

That's right. The Annual Gardner Hardware Anvil Drop in Downtown Minneapolis is coming up on August 14th. I go every time I can. And promote it every chance I get. 'Cause it's just too much cool to stand.

It was actually cancelled last year because of the 35W bridge collapse, come to think of it.

And if you go? The newbies get in real close to witness the carnage that a watermelon hath wrought on a random vehicle. Those who know stand the hell back. Because watermelon carcass travels. There's a blast radius of 10-12 feet.

Just so you know.