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On the way out of my room this morning, I grabbed a random pair of socks. It wasn't until I hopped into them and my shoes on my way out the door that I realized something unusual; they're a matched pair.

Normally, I never wear matching socks. I just don't dig dressing that way, I've always felt most comfortable when my socks are mismatched. In fact, I can't remember the last time they matched; I was probably still in school.

My sock drawer is a bit unusual. It's full of striped, patterned, and brightly-colored socks. About half of them are toe-socks. Not a single one is white, and none are the standard black or dark blue ones you'll find in the men's section. I figure, if you can't have fun with your socks, what can you have fun with? No matter how formal or business-casual I have to get, I can always have fun ankles at least. Grabbing a matching pair out of my sock stock at random in the dark is highly unlikely; it's like throwing a coin and having it land on its edge.

But today, it not only happens that my socks are a matched pair, but they're arguably the most boring and mundane pair I own; plain orange ones. It feels odd, like I'm walking around with a stain on my shirt or something, but I know it's not really that big a deal. Besides, I thought to myself as I walked into my day job this morning, maybe this means today will be an unusual day in other ways. I could do with a bit of shaking up.

As it happened, a few hours into my day I got a call from my beloved girlfriend, whom I've missed terribly since I saw her last a few long weeks ago. She's got a sudden business trip that just so happens to be in New York, and she'll be coming over tonight to spend the better part of a week with me.

:-D

Perhaps I should match my socks more often. At the very least, I should buy a lottery ticket before I change out of them.

I got home from Off the Hook last night at my customary Stupid O'Clock AM, and had high hopes of getting a good five hours or so of sleep in before geting up for work today.

As I was walking home from the train station a low-flying police helicopter was flying in a circular pattern right near my neighborhood, shining its spotlight down into the street. It was quite jarring; possible dangerous fugitive types with pixelated faces aside, it was just freaking loud.

By the time I got to my block the chopper had stopped its search pattern, instead hovering maybe ten blocks or so from my house, shining the spot straight downward. I was nearly curious enough to take a walk over and have a look, but fatigue won out.

Unfortunately, thanks to the noise, I couldn't pass out for another couple of hours. Usually I can sleep through anything, but I was too tired to focus enough to do so (if that makes any sense.) When I did eventually fall asleep I ended up with a pretty wicked nightmare, and the alarm rang far too soon for my tastes.

Thank goodness for free caffeine in the office.

I've never properly written up my version of the "where I was/who I lost/how I felt/etc." stories everyone who was around seven years ago has, and I doubt I ever will. I have probably barely addressed the issue in all my years of public writing. It's not something I enjoy discussing, nor is it something that I can really see myself reducing to text archived on a screen at this point. I'll occasionally talk about it in person if asked, but not often, and not enthusiastically.

I've seen people who do get enthused while talking about it, and they tend to frighten me more than the event itself did.

I have somehow become hopelessly addicted to the film Yellow Submarine. I don't really know why, but I have happily rewatched it about once or twice a week for the past few months.

And no, I haven't taken up recreational pharmacology or anything. I just honestly dig the film.

The remnants of Tropical Storm Hanna passed through on Saturday, and left only slight damage.

It started Friday night, after 2600. We had been booted out of Mud at midnight by the lovely staff, who are somehow able to tell you to GTFO in a nice way. So we were outside chatting for a bit when the sky well and truly opened up. There isn't much shelter on that sidewalk, so we ended up shielding ourselves with cardboard boxen from the sidewalk. I gave Grey my hat to wear, and tied on a bandanna instead.

Check out this photo Sidepocket shot of Grey and I in high-speed, catching the raindrops in mid-air. Cool stuff!

So a bunch of us broke off and headed to the subway at Astor Place, getting soaked all along the way. We were all wringing a few gallons out of our clothes as we waited for the train with assorted villagers. There was one unfortunate girl who had evidently just dyed her hair deep purple before going out on the town, the rain leaving her looking like she had been swimming in canned beets.

Later, in Penn Station, there were the usual leaks dripping into strategically placed trash cans. The fact that a sub-basement-level electric railroad hub which has all of Madison Square Garden above it still manages to develop leaks is a testament to municipal engineering.

I arrived home at the traditional hour of insane o'clock AM, ditched my wet clothes in a trail toward my bed, and passed right out. I woke up Saturday afternoon with a blazing migraine, and the rain outside was still torrential, completely flooding the street and beginning to cover peoples' lawns. I tried catching up on blogs but I couldn't get my head together enough to type any replies, so I just clicked on a random link off Cableflame's LJ, and ended up discovering a brilliant webcomic I'd never seen before. I ended up spending an entire passive afternoon reading that entire comic from start to finish while listening to the rain. The power only flickered out once.

I live in a finished basement, so I was more than a bit worried about flooding from the storm. As luck would have it only one room off in the corner caught any flooding, and it's a junk room where I didn't have anything vital. I lost a few posters, old books, and some other assorted crap I should probably have thrown out long ago anyway, but two days later the carpet in there is failing to dry out and beginning to show signs of mold. So, I get to spend tonight cutting up and getting rid of a soaked carpet. :-P

Fortunately, the carpet was hastily laid down over vinyl flooring as an afterthought when someone we knew had a bunch of free carpet to give away, and I think the vinyl is still okay, so I won't have a bare cement floor to deal with.

The one real casualty of the storm is my dear grey hat. It's wool felt, and drying out after that long-term soaking shrank the poor thing considerably. If you've got a big round head like mine, a comically small hat is not all that dignified under most circumstances. I suppose I could get it re-stretched or something, bu it'll probably be cheaper and easier to just replace it.

In other, happier news, my lovely girlfriend starts work today. I'm dating an attorney! Dig it!

If I'm out of touch tomorrow, this is why.
Wish me luck!

Happy birthday, Grey Frequency!

I don't tell you this nearly often enough, so I'll lay it down here in hard electrons; you're the most wonderful best friend anyone could ever ask for. The nine years you've been part of my life have been beyond belief. We've been through a lot together, and every adventure we share leaves me looking forward to the next. I love you, and I'm honored and privileged to call you my friend.

Keep kicking butt!