Our House, In the Middle of Our Street.

Hey all,

There is something to be said for sitting in ones bedroom for over an hour at least something more than you would suppose. It seems like, and maybe this is just (absolutely is) me talking, but once you hit that hour thresh hold, you get this ability to start seeing things. If your like me, and you probably are more than you think (word of advice: CANCEL SUBSCRIPTION TO SHAPE MAGAZINE) you have decorations in your room. Decorations defined as posters, photos,posters,model airplanes, signed poster of the cast from X-files (and by signed poster I mean the autograph of the guy who photo shopped Gillian Anderson into a bikini revealing a little more than paranormal activity) [ed. note- if you can think of a way to turn paranormal activity into a breast joke other than paranormal acTITity, let me know], etc. etc. This being the case and as I'm not in my room much as a result of my staggering amount of female callers/trying to figure out how to play "Everlong," on the guitar, my room truly fades into a dull roar of blues, yellows and mildly offensively positioned women.

However, when you hit the magical hour mark, and really there is no reason for you to do that save NOT studying or preparing something that you should for all intents and purposes be doing (and here I'm aware that taking down the Gillian Anderson probably qualifies) but when you hit it ,the room fades in from scene left. You start to notice things and I'll give you a concrete example. I simply did not know that I had this...
actually hanging up in my room. I had forgotten I ever listened to Savoy Brown. A tragedy to be sure.

This is not to say that you, dear reader, are anywhere close to as unobservant as me. In fact as I type I'm sure you finding Waldo in places he was never thought to be found again (although he probably should stop hiding in Middle Ages Battles for Castles that always the first place I look) and tying people shoes so they don't/do trip over their shoelaces. You Samaritan you.

In essence I suppose it reminds me, and you eagle eye, that rooms and lives deserve and demand constant attention or threaten to leave you striving and moving in a sea of gray. Forever condemned to watch everything and see nothing. If that's what you want, watch PAX.


Not as condescending as I may read because you've probably all been down the same road as me and it's difficult for me to think sometimes so lay off and get your own blog Melville,
A.J.S.