weak end
One okay thing to do on a Saturday night when you don’t feel like seeing people but you’re a little lost for things to do at home is to download video files from Ubuweb and watch sweet things like Beckett’s “Not I.” Which is precisely what I did last night. Also, read a bunch from the Project Gutenberg eBook of Tintinnalogia, about change-ringing, the far-pre-Cage English tradition of ringing a series of bells, not for melody, but in mathematical permutations of order. (Here’s something: do you know how expensive handbells are? One octave seriously costs a couple thousand dollars. There go my one-man-handbell choir plans.)
And I wrote some stuff this weekend, which was nice (I’m feeling the pressure because I’m setting up a reading in December and theoretically want to read at it. And want to read stuff that is actually good.) And I made a prototype of a new book-ish project thing that I’m pretty stoked on. It might be the basis of my XXX-mas presents this year (seriously, if I don’t start now, I won’t have anything for anyone by Christmas, like happened last year).
If you’re reading this today (and I mean, who reads blogs on Sunday afternoon?) you should go see Des Ark tonight at Mofo. And if you don’t run out of energy, go to the Green Milk From the Planet Orange show (Centipede headlines) afterward. And maybe go see Amoeba Knievel and Weird Paul at 6. I want to but the Steelers are still just about to start, so I dunno.
Also, the wind this weekend has howled so wildly, I’ve been in fear of the house being blown over. It reminds me of the time a few years ago when we lived on Taylor Street and my bedroom window (thankfully on the opposite side of the room from where I was sleeping) blew all the way in, and sleet came flying across the room in the middle of the night. It took some doing to get that back together (it didn’t actually break, the entire storm window just fell out of the frame).