I try to be my best.

It takes 10 minutes to run from the DVD dropoff slot at the libary, across a deserted parking lot and streets at 2:00am, back to my place.

Also, I'll put on an icepack while doing my stomach crunches.  I can do a thousand now.

We call it... the, uh... ... The place to be! Yes! It's the place to be.

Here's a list of favorite magical places I can remember from my life so far, in reverse chronological order from last weekend back to childhood.

• The North Country Fair grounds under a midnight twilight sky, mist from the river covering the whole valley, high bright clouds in the dark blue sky, distant camp fires and sounds of drumming everywhere.
• That stretch of La Rive Gauche from the view of the Notre Dame, glowing in a soft misty aura of hazy lights, to the circles where they come to dance Tango d'Argentine et al. Everywhere are groups of young Parisians with picnics and wine, singing and playing instruments, dancing with fire.
• The hostel at Gimmelwald; looking up past prayer flags to watch the moon playing in and out from behind the surrounding mountains; the view from the hot tub interrupted only when putting another log in the stove.
• The hostel at Freiburg, its massive and welcoming common room permeated with signs of musical and artistic creative energy. At the back door is a stream with a water generator in it; beyond that is a hill covered with the Black Forest.
• The hostel in Budapest, with its thousand pictures and thousands of stories. Lounging in a hammock in the covered sanctuary in the back yard, anticipating and smelling the goulash slowly cooking over a fire a few feet away. The place had a magical energy that you could feel, and see in the faces of everyone there.
• The mountains near Darjeeling. Food cooked over open fires in the kitchen, by families with simple lives. Climbing the hill in the early morning to see the distant Mount Everest before the clouds came in.
• Lisa's old house, with turntables in the basement turning all night, keyboards and recording studio upstairs, and hot tub and barbecue on the roof.
• Prague old town square, its Church of Our Lady looking straight out of a fairy tale. Cesky Krumlov too... its castle enchanted under the moonlight; its bars serving up absinthe and the nicest drunk feeling I've ever had; its hostel with the luxurious bathtub; its ambiance perfect for falling in love.
• Fairmont hot springs, under the waterfall with a girl in a pink bikini. Of course I didn't talk to her, but then... I was only a child.
• Dancing with family at Saint Georges club in Bermuda. The tropical scenery, the decadent surroundings, the pina coladas... feeling like a poor family, but tonight: like we were made. I was just a kid and could not dance, and maybe this was the first time I tried, but that didn't matter.
• The deck of the family home, staying up late on a warm summer night with family friends and a spectacular northern lights display.

Building this list reminds me to go traveling. There are a lot of recurring themes here... it seems the perfect place would have these elements: Mountains, warm water, camp fire, prayer flags, and live music.

It's not impossible. I used to bull's-eye womp rats in my T-16 back home.

Now this is clever. Much more genuine-sounding and humorously naive than the spider drawings.
http://www.27bslash6.com/matthewsparty.html

It reminds me of Adrian Mole... intellectual but oblivious. Failed helpfulness and unintentional arrogance.

Shortly after reading that, I came across this:
http://photoshopdisasters.blogspot.com/2009/02/at-whoops.html
On the Photoshop Disasters blog it's common to find comments such as "This isn't a disaster because [whatever strange reason]," and I've often wondered if such comments are simply trolls. Inspired (by the party RSVP as well as this info on Victor Lewis-Smith) and in the mood for playing dumb, mischief, and maybe some Socratic irony or at least trying my hand at some playful trolling, I wrote this comment (it's about 3/4 down the page):

Michael Devine said...

You can tell the grass is darkened because a couple pieces in front of her arm and leg are left mysteriously bright. It's easy to see that the image was extended on the right... yes, that's a bit sloppy. You can tell it's flopped because on her top the pocket is on the wrong side. But talk about nit-picking! I had to really look at every pixel in detail to find the problems, and I have a good eye for details. Really, there's nothing all that wrong with this image and I'd go so far as to call it a photoshop success. Definitely not a disaster, come on people! Grab a brain!

and I got some return fire and it pleased me...

pootpoot said...

"Grab a brain!"

You failed. Grab a pair of eyes and either have another look at the ad or read the comments.

"I had to really look at every pixel in detail to find the problems, and I have a good eye for details."

You made me roll on the floor, laughing my ass off. Thank you!

It pleased me that I brought some laughter to someone, regardless of whether they appreciated my joke or they just thought I was worthy of ridicule. Probably the latter... but then they could be having me on, too.

Only today did I notice something else. In the comments of my other blog, I found this:

Raffaella Arnaldi said...

Psst... Look again at the AT&T ad in PhotoshopDisasters and this time read the texts too... :-))

It was written in the comments of a post about dancing at a valentine's day ball! The lengths people will go to point out that you're an idiot! A troll on another blog's comments was followed, traced through the author, to a completely unrelated blog, and responded to in a completely unrelated post. I imagine it winding through the tubes of the internets. Somehow it brings this to mind...

The approach will not be easy. You are required to maneuver straight down this trench and skim the surface to this point. The target area is only two meters wide. It's a small thermal exhaust port, right below the main port. The shaft leads directly to the reactor system. A precise hit will start a chain reaction which should destroy the station.

Only a precise hit will set up a chain reaction. The shaft is
ray-shielded, so you'll have to use proton torpedoes.


WEDGE: That's impossible, even for a computer.