Sunday, March 20, 2005


It took me four hours to fix id3 tags on my meagre mp3 collection. This was compounded by the facts that my laptop had been taken away and I had to do this on my PC which only has the slow USB port, not to mention I couldn't figure out how to transfer the mp3s to the iPod for the first hour or so, and finally, I realised I had set the wrong id3 tags on half of them and I had to start it all again.

That is one very long sentense, and trust me, I have no desire to go back and fix the grammar!
To cut the long sentence short, I got all my mp3s onto the iPod and am listening to them as I blog.

Have you ever noticed that when you listen to sounds with the headphones, it feels like the voice is coming from inside your head?? Gives the phrase "hearing voices" a whole new meaning.
I like the Kill Bill soundtracks. The mix of Japanese songs, classical composers and oldies but goodies is astounishing.

Finally finished watching Stargate SG-1 season 8. Pretty awesome show really - Space McGyver gets funnier and funnier with every episode.

The four final episodes of the season were my postprandial entertainment after I made a semi-large effort to cook the Sunday Brunch. Scrambled eggs, avocado, port cheddar, spinach, salmon spread on bread, a cup of coffee, Sunday Star Times. It's become a sort of tradition with me - Sunday is the day of rest. And I don't need any dogma to tell me that. Just the other day on Breakfast, they had some guest speakers proclaiming that our world has been speeding up too much, that people ought to slow down and take in the life. Sundays are just for that. Later on tonight I plan to cook pasta with a flavour of sauce I haven't tried before, and sip on white wine.

In Maori, when people want to say "How's the weather today?", they say "How does the earth feel today?". The word beautiful has many more meanings that at first perceived. In the Vampire the Masquerade rules, there are Toreador. It's a clan of vampires (bear with me here) that "get off" on all things aesthetic. They love things that look good, taste good, feel good. To the point that they can enter a torpor if filled with too much beauty.
"Toreador are alternately elegant and flamboyant, brilliant and ludicrous, visionary and dissipated. Perhaps the only truism that can be applied to the clan is its members' aesthetic zeal. Whatever a Toreador does, she does with passion. Whatever a Toreador is, she is with passion."

By the way, that Maori tidbit I learned from Emilie Le Strange article in Salient. She's a brilliant writer - funny, articulate, eloquent. Pity I can't link to any of her latest work because Salient haven't updated their web publications this year.

Air is a good background soundtrack to writing.
That stat counter I installed on my blog was a bad idea - the attention whore within me was devastated: only four people read my blog.

On the upside, I can rant on about whatever the hell I want and not have to suffer the repercussions of QuadLaser. I like writing. I like it for two reasons and two reasons only - firstly, I like the movement of my fingers on the keyboard - the constant fluid motion that translates into something legible; secondly, I enjoy words - words that are big, words that are descriptive, words that can paint a picture, a thought. Spot my Dictionary Word of the Day in this blog and win a minute of satisfaction.

On the other hand, the attention that a blog may bring is nice too, although, obviously in my case is non-existant.

I am trying to learn how to play Fur Elise on the piano. So far I can play the right hand part fairly ok, but cannot quite combine it with the left hand part. I figure if I can type 60 words a minute, I should be able to manage the piano. Just gotta practice. The problem here is that when you practice the piano, the whole surrounding area of Timbaktu can hear your failures.

Something else to work on.

1 comment:

Hellcheese said...

WOTD: postprandial!

Although I didn't see it on dictonary doctor or Oxford in the last few weeks.