at the moment i am trying my hand at making my own french-bread pizza (as opposed to just heating up the frozen variety).  what it really is, i think, is that i am old hand at procrastination and this is just a way of trying my hand at a different way of doing something at which i am old hand.  on the one hand, i think it will be healthier, what with the absence of grease and preservatives and what what, but on the other hand i really should be studying instead.  but, idle hands being the devil’s whatever, i guess it’s good that i’m doing something, be it trying my hand or being old hand.

hey, do you ever have the car radio and the windshield wipers on at the same time?  i bet you do, but do you ever notice the rhythms it creates sometimes?  the wipers will be swishing and swooshing in time with the music for awhile, then they will gradually move out of sync with the music, and then move back in sync just as gradually.  then they move back out again, and so on.  it’s a very basic thing that happens, and for very basic reasons, but it’s something that holds my attention for long periods of time, in an absentminded sort of way.

the walkways at u of h are made of both plain cement and cement with rocks in it.  these two materials are placed alternately in a pattern that is entirely uninteresting except for the fact that the ratio of rock cement to plain cement is 2:1.  my stride is such that for awhile i will step once on plain cement, twice on rock cement, once on plain, twice on rock, once plain, twice rock, once twice once twice, until eventually my steps are out of sync with the pattern and i step on cracks and in between patterns and sometimes not on the plain cement at all.  occasionally i’ll adjust my stride accordingly, but most of the time i let the strange patterns take over and do their own thing.

of course, when i walk through these particular parts of campus, i am always looking down at my feet.  today i was particularly intent upon my cement-shoe rhythm, and when scott from novel class walked past me and growled “concentrate!” under his breath, i screamed.  loud.  those of you who know me well are aware of the fact that i am jumpy.  really jumpy.  popping balloons, startling parts in movies, sudden anything makes me jump and/or yell, and today was no exception.  scott laughed at me for a minute, said he wished he’d had a camera to record my shocked facial expression, and went on his way.  i didn’t look at my shoes after that.

oh, and the pizza?  pretty fucking good.