I had an interesting dream last night. I was training for some job--the details evade me now--and has part of the training, I had to put on a diving suit and breathe in that pink liquid oxygen from THE ABYSS. My instructor was not particularly concerned or gentle with me, only warning me, "Okay, this is going to be bad," when the helmet started to fill with the stuff.
I started to hold my breath, and then thought, No, I'm going to be brave and impress her, and I started to just gulp the liquid in. But it burned like inhaling alcohol, and my body thrashed, and I realized I didn't know if it was supposed to be like this, or if something was terribly wrong. I tried to ask her, but I couldn't speak, as my lungs were filled with pink goo. Not a nightmare, per se, but one I thought about quite a bit when I woke up.
I awakened all cottonmouthed, like I had been chortling alcohol or strange men in a Newport Beach danceclub, though I'm pretty sure I hadn't been.
Hopefully, it's just COVID-19.
I got more movies from the library a couple of days ago (they're about to start charging late fees again and I think I still have items I checked out from Before that I haven't seen in months), all starting with B. BROKEN ARROW (Jimmy Stewart), THE BEST OF ENEMIES, BEN-HUR (Heston), BULLITT, BLACK SWAN (Tyrone Power), THE BLACKHEATH POISONINGS, BUTTLOVE VOLUME 18, BROOKLYN, etc. The library has a pretty wide selection.
The flick I chose to put on was BRIGADOON, and though I know I've never seen it, I keep feeling that I have, and recently.* It's one of the worst kind of Musicals--one where the songs are too long and the narrative stops dead in its tracks for them, and worse, it's got tons of dancing in it. I understand that you've got Gene Kelly front and center, and not having him dance would be like hiring Jackie Chan to play Robert T. Ironside**, but it's just so egregious and elaborate and endless (and other e-words) that I found it hard to take. If there's one art-form I don't understand, it's dance, probably because the only kind I relate to is the kind of dancing Billy Idol sang about.
But even so, there's something so charming and remarkable about the film that I'm enjoying it in spite of myself. It's funny when that happens, kind of the like the Dua Lipa song I'm always going on about. I remember the first time I heard it (it's called Break My Heart, baby), wanting to change the station because it was just so annoying, and for some reason I didn't. And the next time I heard it, I was again shocked by its intentional obnoxiousness, but again, I didn't turn it off. I keep hearing it on the radio, and liking it a little bit more each time, despite knowing it's not for me.
And now, mid-August, it's up there, in my top three or four songs of the year, and I say, with only mild chagrin, that the part that goes "Centre of attention, you know you can get whatever you want from me, Whenever you want it, baby" is my favorite part of any song in 2020.***
But I digress. I'm supposed to be up here editing and writing, just the one day on my own, in which to get in as much as I can. Oh, and sit-ups. Always plenty of sit-ups to be found around here. Like moths, which are constantly getting into the cabin somehow, and littering the windowsills with their dried husks.
Dancing with Myself. He had a song called "Dancing with Myself."
Well, it's just past noon now, and I only have nineteen words for the day. Not sure I'm entirely cut out for this writing thing.
When I'm at the cabin, I tend to have very little embarrassment or body shame (except for last month when those kids made fun of me for having my shirt off). I lift antique milk cans (that's NOT a euphemism, though yeah, I do that too), I try to jog (usually failing), and I tend to get more sit-ups done because I can do them throughout the day, and not just when everybody has gone to sleep. Today was pretty good.
Sit-ups Today: 571 (okay, if that's not a record, I'll eat my hat)
Sit-ups In August: 2042
I decided to leave the cabin early--literally every time I sat down to read my R.A. Salvatore book, I'd fall asleep (seriously, it happened three different times), so I packed everything up and got ready to go. But then I thought about a scene I'd considered writing last night, where Rick encounters a rattlesnake (the story takes place in Arizona, in the same town as another of my stories, so I'm pretty darn confident there would be rattlers in the hills where he found the egg), but I'd forgotten about it.
So I sat down and wrote it, and gee, a half hour or more passed. I'm really, really close to the end on this now. I think, if I spent the night tonight (not that I can, I've got work to do tomorrow), I'd have it done. But I can try to finish it this week (it's past 20,000 words now), though I have so many more distractions at home, I don't know if I have the will to do it. We'll see, as long as I don't crash coming down the mountain.
Words Today: 1605
Words In August: 8717
*I checked out MRS. MINIVER a month or so back, and the same thing happened: I realized I had already seen it, and just in the last two or three years. Yet I had no memory of ever checking it out and even now wonder how I could've forgotten it completely.
**He was a TV lawyer in a wheelchair.
***Yeah, I spelled "center" wrong. But she's British, and it just seemed like the thing to do.
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