I locked myself out of my own apartment yesterday. Not the new one, but the old: I dropped off my keys and bid farewell once and for all to a place that had been my home and safe haven for nine years. It is done; the future has taken root in the present. "Home" for me has a new definition.
Today marks the eighth anniversary of my last cigarette, which was outside the Boston Market on Northern Boulevard at 3:45 in the afternoon.
I have hooked up my desktop computer to the home theater. I've not yet had the opportunity to connect the optical cable which will give me multichannel sound (I need a new sound card for that), but I have added a wireless mouse and keyboard for extreme convenience, and let me tell you it is much nicer to stream material this way.
The television monitor is mounted rather high on the wall and tilted down. Not only does this add about a foot and a half of viewing distance (compensating for the size of the room), it makes for a much more comfortable viewing position, more akin to seeing a movie than watching television, where usually one is looking straight or down, which can cause neck cricks and the discomfort of a sweaty throat.
The shelf unit for the laserdiscs and vinyl has been built and filled. Now I have to alphabetize it all.
The chief engineer of the building I keep my tools at informed me that one of the floors was being demolished, and they had many pieces of furniture that were just being trashed. Ever ambitious, I laid claim to a meeting table that I have placed in my dining room/study. It is supported by a central pillar (no table legs to interfere with sitting) and opens up to reveal a hidden leaf. The only catch: the surface of the table itself is presently a bit scratched, so I have to put a tablecloth on it for now.
THE DAMNED APPLE LOGO
My iPod has started periodically resetting itself, which can be very annoying. It may be time to restore and re-sync.
Walt Dickerson: Impressions of A Patch of Blue (music by Jerry Goldsmith)