Been having really vivid dreams lately, which probably comes from having long uninterrupted sleep bedeviled by nighttime chilliness and that predictable spinal torment that comes from having bought the cheapest mattress in Ikea. Last night I had a dream about being great friends with a dude from work with whom I had a pretty severe falling out. The night before it was about being covered in hot escargot. Dreams of being warm have been kind of frequent since San Francisco is kind of chilly and I don't have anything to sleep under. I shipped my blanket with the rest of my stuff from NYC since it was too big to fit in either bag I carried to the airport, thinking it'd get to San Francisco shortly after I did, but that was a bit of a hash, and my belongings won't actually arrive until Monday.
I have to get out of this apartment. I'm turning into the shut-in roommate. I keep telling myself that'll change once I have my stuff and I have money in the bank. One of Edbury's co-workers (among other people, like literaticat's friends) has been super helpfully feeding me things to do, places to go, things to see, and she's a casual runner so I think I might have an at least occasional running partner. (I credit Nemtynakht for making me realize that's actually a fun thing to have.)
Couple days ago my friend Dina took me to lunch in town and treated me to a fancy repast, which was awesome. I have been reluctant to enjoy the food San Francisco has to offer until my money situation is conclusively sorted, so I've not been doing much beside drooling outside various restaurant windows. I had a pretty delicious monkfish though I think it made me realize I'm kind of done with monkfish. I haven't cooked seafood at home in years, but I used to make monkfish all the time: the poor man's lobster. It doesn't do it for me any more. I'm more interested in the rich man's lobster.
Been reading a lot, applying to a lot of jobs, suffering through a lot of "apply for this job" web interfaces (seriously, why are they uniformly atrocious?), watching a lot of movies. The last few days alone I've seen This is the End (weird, confused, a little funny), Warm Bodies (confused and unfunny), Iron Man 3 (horrible - and "better than the second one" is no kind of praise), that Danny Boyle sci fi thing Sunshine (compelling in a Boyle-ean way, mostly notable in making me finally realize his style is just about the dread of dying horribly), Hell Drivers (on ravenface's recommendation, and it delivered as much pulse-pounding commercial truck driving action as I'd been led to expect), and the 1985 Kiwi apocalypse pic The Quiet Earth (which was my favorite of the bunch, and is where the above image is derived from). That I was so into QE, and so much more than something like Hell Drivers (which I would have gone gaga over even a couple of years ago), probably tells you a lot about where my tastes are at these days. Comparatively low key and smallish budgeted curiosities from the 70s and 80s that hold surprising power despite a humble (or, in some cases, ludicrous) appearance. It also doesn't hurt that it addresses my own teleological obsession, or maybe that's just the echoes of my Catholic childhood speaking through me like a cardboard paper towel tube.
I'm going to see that Superman movie with Bernie tonight, and trying to keep an open mind about it, but I'm not expecting much.
First: the gym!