the little critters of nature, they don't know they're ugly

I've returned from a week of camping in Fowlers, just south of Mt. Shasta (the actual mountain, not the similarly named town). I dreamed almost every morning, which is unusual. One dream involved me losing control of someone's BMW (driving too fast is a bit of a recurring theme), another had me in a white tie tuxedo at someone's wedding (no clue who, not even if it was the bride or groom or both), hooking up with old high school friends. Today's dream involved a typing accuracy test which somehow morphed into me carrying a gun trying to kill Mr. Feeny (the character, not William Daniels), who was running around school also carrying a gun (school? what's this arrested development shit going on in my brain? and i fucking hate "Turd Meets World"!) After the cops finally track him down and take him away because he's clearly out of his mind, i drop my gun into the garbage.

I read G. K. Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday, very aptly subtitled A Nightmare, but in a good way, and Robert J. Sawyer's Calculating God, which, despite some major holes near the end, was still an entertaining and immersive read.

Irony: escaping the Bay Area and its air pollution to go to the clean air of the outdoors... forest fires, huh? Mmm, smoky.

I didn't shave all week, which is the longest i've ever gone since i started shaving. I asked Kim to take a picture of each side of my face, so you can share the ignominy that is my facial hair.

the little critters of nature, they don't know they're ugly

I've returned from a week of camping in Fowlers, just south of Mt. Shasta (the actual mountain, not the similarly named town). I dreamed almost every morning, which is unusual. One dream involved me losing control of someone's BMW (driving too fast is a bit of a recurring theme), another had me in a white tie tuxedo at someone's wedding (no clue who, not even if it was the bride or groom or both), hooking up with old high school friends. Today's dream involved a typing accuracy test which somehow morphed into me carrying a gun trying to kill Mr. Feeny (the character, not William Daniels), who was running around school also carrying a gun (school? what's this arrested development shit going on in my brain? and i fucking hate "Turd Meets World"!) After the cops finally track him down and take him away because he's clearly out of his mind, i drop my gun into the garbage.

I read G. K. Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday, very aptly subtitled A Nightmare, but in a good way, and Robert J. Sawyer's Calculating God, which, despite some major holes near the end, was still an entertaining and immersive read.

Irony: escaping the Bay Area and its air pollution to go to the clean air of the outdoors... forest fires, huh? Mmm, smoky.

I didn't shave all week, which is the longest i've ever gone since i started shaving. I asked Kim to take a picture of each side of my face, so you can share the ignominy that is my facial hair.