another kind of me

Think of them as thoughtlets.
(but what are they really?)

For the week of december 28, 1997

monday, december 29, 1997, 03:45

titanic.
Yes, worth the 200 million that they spent on it. Worth the 8 bucks I spent on it. Slightly flawed I would have to say, in certain scenes, but damned it i could pinpoint them. Loved the story, the shots were magnificent.
The audience was less than ideal. Though I must say that the best audience reaction I've ever seen, or rather, heard, came at the moment that Rose takes off her robe for Jack. From the darkened, silent theater came something between a gasp and a snort. Quite amusing, to say the least.
What I really couldn't stand, though, was the audience reaction to the sinking of the ship. Not sure if it was that the people were only seeing it as actors in a movie, or if it was the fact that such tragedy has to be met with humor or else it becomes too painful, but the laughter that came as the water rose over the old couple lying in their bed, waiting for the water to bring their lives to an end was too much for me.
Maybe I'm being too sensitive, but that reaction really bothered me.
A couple of other thoughts when watching that movie.
Death by drowning has to be one of the more awful deaths. I almost drowned once when I was little and learning how to swim. I fell off the raft in the middle of the swimming pool and just started sinking. All I can remember is looking up as the surface fell away from me in a swirl of bubbles. Feeling my lungs fill with water, knowing that there is no air left. That has to be awful. The anticipation.
But enough of the morbid thoughts. Go see this movie. It is definitely worth the big price for the big screen.

wednesday, december 31, 1997, 00:10

24 hours to go.
and my head hurts.
good times with good friends are worth their weight in gold. or more.
until 1998 then...

thursday, january 1, 1998, 03:19

"Just another conspiracy by my bank" as one of my friends described it.
Too much typing with bad posture on a tiny keyboard. But another year has come and gone. And it can all be traced. Scary that, and kinda cool.
Bought two Loreena McKennit cds today. This after a bunch of years wanting to buy them, but never being able to find them when I was looking, and never looking when I could have found them.
I was considering doing a year in review, but realized that it would have been silly, primarily because I can't remember what happened in the last year. Took some classes, made some friends. Had a good relationship, and a great breakup. Programmed some shit. Lit some shows. Wrote about all of it.
It's time for a change. Unfortunately, I really don't have a good development machine here at home. We'll see what happens. In four days this baby turns one.

saturday, january 3, 1998, 01:35

Driving into the city today, I passed some smokestacks. Over the years, we've taken the same route into the city, and every time we drive in, I notice these smokestakcs. I remember that these were always some of the first things that I saw that would let me know that we were almost in the city, that we were almost to my grandparents' apartment.
These aren't ordinary, grungy, icky smokestacks. No, these were clean, white stacks with big pastel polka dots all over them. Rather out of place in the gravel pit where they live, but never the less, they were always there, a landmark. At least to me.
And apparntly, only to me. We passed by those stacks today, and as we sped by, I caught a glimpse of them. The polka dots have all but faded away, and the clean whiteness has been replaced with a dirty covering of rust.
Welcome to 1998. Goodbye to the past.