vancomycin

hmm, yes, about those magazines. Most of the food magazines don't provide enough illustration so as to gauge how the meal should look once it's finished, and the ones that do charge you 3 times the rate of the text-heavy ones. The New Yorker was too regional, Scientific American had too many ads. The Economist was one of the few that I liked because of the depth of information provided, except the executive focus ads they place right in the middle of the magazine is bullshit. GQ- I don't know even if I care to dress to impress at the moment. Men's Health- the sex pages are not applicable. Gourmet, Bon Appetit, Food & Wine- too many ads. Even though Wired had a nice spread, I would prefer if Sarah Silverman didn't spread her face all over it. Smithsonian was refreshing in that it had some interesting random articles that actually didn't deal with the war or politics. Good experience in that I didn't order those magazine subscriptions without previewing them, bad in that my reading time was inundated with crappy material.

Getting calls at all the wrong times. Wonder what would happen if everyone received each other's thoughts instantly instead of the sender having to wait for the recipient to actually pick up. I was reading science in bed and fell asleep, waking up hours later only to find a text message in my inbox. Drab. sushi. Although I had already planned dinner for tonight, getting a message about sushi brought back memories of that one time I had sushi with Drab at Castro. You guys remember, yes? Nice interior decorations, bad food poisoning. The health risks I take just to see Drab in person.

Very frequently, my mind wanders, picks up on ideas that leave me bursting out laughing, oftentimes in the wrong place. Luckily I was at home meditating on constructing this birthday card. You know it's going to be a good card when thinking about how the person's going to laugh after reading it makes you laugh harder. Anywho, I might just toss the idea and leave it in purgatory if I get too lazy by the end of the week.

This dream I had (last night I think) involved me staying over at Yeshua, Annnnnndy, and Klean's apartment in Houston. I forgot who had invited me to stay with them, but I walked in, unpacked, and stayed in my designated room. The next day, Yeshua and Klean were planning on going somewhere, and I guess they couldn't trust leaving me at the apartment all by myself. So Klean was waiting by the doorway, looking miffed as usual, standing passive aggressively, huffing so that I would get the hint that I was being rushed. Only, I took my sweet time in the bathroom, and once I was finished, Yeshua had to go to the bathroom as well, prolonging the wait even further. We ultimately ended up leaving the apartment an hour later.