After playing around with Matt's camcorder, I'm sure about one thing: I like how i look in Night Vision mode:
With the night vision on, it actually looks like I can grow a little facial hair. How rugged. Of course, I look all green. A pretty fair trade-off, I'd say. Though upon further inspection, the green sort of gives it a Matrix-y look.
Last night I was standing on my front porch, watching planes go overhead, thinking what I'd do if the one right over my head just started plunging straight down out of the sky. Which way would I run? It's always about running. I thought maybe I'd run back inside, but decided that would be pretty foolish. I'm fairly certain that if a plane landed on the roof my building, it'd have no problem getting through four floors and crushing my apartment. Anyway, I'm mentioning this because as you may have heard, a plane fell out of the sky and into Queens this morning. An engine fell off. And the plane set 12 houses on fire. Someone was eating breakfast or getting out of bed, and an airliner fell from the sky into their home. Did you hear where the engine that broke off landed? A fucking gas station. Can you believe that shit? "This disaster has been brought to you by Wile E. Coyotee." It landed about 20 feet from the gas pumps. Now that would've been a horrifyingly spectacular sight.
Here are some fantasies and thoughts that I occupied my mind with while riding the train home this evening:
From Broadway-Lafayette to East Broadway, which is 3 stops, I had various softball/baseball fantasies, mostly reality-based and about previous experiences.
-From East Broadway to York -one stop, but under the river- I imagined what I'd do should the tunnel collapse. I often do this.
-At Jay Street, one stop after York, I imagined how people would see the ironic foreshadowing of me writing about the tunnel collapsing after I was caught in the tunnel when it collapsed.
-From there on, I tried to think more pleasant thoughts. But those quickly turned into bitter revenge schemes. Seems my fantasies are getting too outlandish given certain realities. These were largely of a romantic and/or sexual nature.
-Then for the last few stops I pondered what kind of little movie I would make for today's entry. I'd recorded about 15 seconds myself singing "The Rainbow Connection," but it was terrible. Not that the egg salad or sniffing movies were the cat's pajamas. But those were deliberately weird. This was unintentionally bad.