Gecko Bloggle

Had a brainfart this evening, and went to FoxBird instead of Firefox.  http://www.foxbird.com/ is what would probably happen if I tried to write html on my own in notepad.  Not my forte, is what I’m saying.

(and spoiler alert, PAGE FIVE is not nearly as exciting as you might have hoped)

Had lunch with a Film School Makeup Artist/prof today, and we stopped in a LondonDrugs on the way back to her work, and there was this dismissive guy in the IT department (he was very busy doing something, probably checking Facebook) and when we walked out of the department, FSMA said

• “He had the most beautiful eyelashes,”
• “Really?  I hadn’t noticed.”
• “Yes, it makes me want to put makeup on him.”
• “Heh, oh yeah?”
• “Yes, often, when I stare at guys, it’s usually ’cause I want to put makeup on them and dress them up as women.  Either that, or vampires and werewolves.”

and with that, she won the conversation.  I know some weird people, in the best way possible.

Might have been a minor earthquake tonight.  A bump, if you will.  Something rattled in the kitchen, and when we walked in there to see what it was, there were weird little lights flickering occasionally around the kitchen.  Dunno.  The FBI must’ve been signaling Arwen to pick up her latest mission briefing.

I’ve talked about mirrors before somewhere on this blog, so we both stood there for a bit and looked around, trying to figure out what the reflection this was.  No candidates.  Not even the kid across the street playing with his laser pointer off our above-the-mantlepiece mirror (again).

But then I had the heebie jeebies for a while (is that something-ist, that term? I’ll have to go look it up), and I kept playing with it by going and standing in the heart of the downstairs axis (bottom of the stairs, between bathroom, office, bedroom, and dining room) and turning slowly, trying to catch whatever the red light source could be.  Checking the angles, you know?

Standing in the dark in your own house, looking for the source of something you’re not seeing any more is a great way to get a little adrenaline rush, lemme just say.  You can hear the blood rushing in your ears, it kicks in so high.

There’s a term for being hyper aware of where your body is in a given space, which doesn’t mean you’re a ninja or anything, but does mean you can reach behind you and grab that thing that was on the table behind you that you saw when you walked into the room (without doing that grasping “rawr I’m an octopus” thing with your hand.)  I forget the word for it, but I’m glad people think about this stuff.

What’s the word for remembering that there’s a field of study, but almost NEVER remember any other details about the study?  I do know it almost always makes me feel like people I’m talking to must think I’m just making shit up on the spot.

Too cold to ride my bike today (sideways rain plus less than 10 degrees = no riding new bike).  Maybe tomorrow.  Want to get out there and ride.

On the way home from school today, our youngest asked Arwen if maybe I was hurt.  Not like bloody finger hurt, but “like growing pains” hurt.  That kid’s got the shinnin’ I tell ya.  Just hooks a line to people like a phone call.  (He was wrong about the pains, but I am stiff today, which is not something he would have known – it’s not like I was limping around the house).

Okay, I’m sorta cheating by posting this tonight, but I’m hitting publish and calling it a day anyway…