Unconnected thoughts.

  • If it turns out that there really is an afterlife, would anybody who died on September 11, 2001 but not part of the attacks (just coincidentally) be ostracized from the group? I imagine that would be the situation for me when I get there (should such a place exist). It’s been a theme so far. People tolerate me, perhaps like me to some degree, but I never really belong to any clique. I’m not expressing disappointment. I actually kind of like it. I’m just making an observation.
  • While clicking through a dating website I noticed a bunch of guys showing up in my search results as women looking for men. It’s not that they’re transgender. They just made a mistake when setting up their account. I now wonder—what if my perfect partner is a woman who made the same mistake and never finds out? I would never find true love because of the wrong Internet settings. I’m considering starting my dating profile with the following:
    “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you would be right for me. I’m looking for a woman who mistakenly set up her profile as a man looking for a woman. Should you see such a woman in your search results, and you’re feeling charitable, please refer her to me. Thank you.”
  • In the wake of the news of Keith Emerson’s death, I decided to throw on the first Emerson, Lake & Palmer album. I really liked that album in high school (for a point of reference, I got it in the nineties). I don’t remember liking any of their other albums, although I admit to not listening to a whole lot. Incidentally, while looking for that record I realized I haven’t listened to my vinyl collection in a while. I think I’ll go through some of those records this weekend.
  • The listening party for the RPM Challenge is tomorrow night in Portsmouth. I’m debating as to whether or not I should make physical copies of my CD to hand out. I’ve only given one or two the last few times I did a Shadows of Immurement album. When we did the Popkin-Salvador album I was able to set the stack of CDs down on a table among albums by other artist, and people took them. Maybe there’s something about the lack of human interaction that makes it easier. Either that, or nobody knew that I had CDs to give away when I didn’t have them on a table the other times. I don’t worry too much as I’m not making any money off of this one.
  • I jogged over a mile today, and I meditated for fifteen minutes. Yet I still cracked open a beer. I know, one beer doesn’t amount to much by itself. Still, I can’t help but wonder how much progress I’m holding back with each beer. Dare I open another one? Then I have to think that I might still be making progress, even if I negate all of the effects of exercise. It’s probably better than drinking and not running. I don’t ever intend on running after the beer, though. The roads here are uneven as it is.
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