Woah-diddy, Woah-diddy Rocket

...I wanna be your sprocket

is how this Distillers song (found on their new website) goes. Don't think it's on any of their albums. It reminds me of that Nirvana song "No Recess," in a good way.

Nina got into Columbia!

The past few times I've gone running in the Park it's left me totally exhausted the next morning. But last night I saw the first (I think) fireflies of the season, and the whole park smelled like lavender and other nice things. Whenever I see fireflies it reminds me of this one particular time in high school that Asta and I went to Shakespeare In The Park, walking down this tree-lined path towards the Delacorte in Central Park, literally hundreds of fireflies winking on and off around us in the warm air. So that's nice. But Prospect Park has bunnies, too.

Does everyone know about Ted? Guy should be getting out of the hospital this morning after a 3-day bout with "spontaneous pneumothorax." Jesus -- just read the article on Wikipedia. Excerpt: "The flopping sound of the punctured lung is occasionally heard." So that's where I (and most of The Friends) were on Sunday; would've gone on Saturday, but it happened to be one of the few times ever that I let my phone completely die before recharging it. Anyway, though, Ted is fine, but I might not be -- according to the doctors he talked to, this is something that tends to "just happen" to young men who are tall and skinny. I'm drafting my will right now. (Just got a texto from him in the handicrapper: The tube is out.)

After visiting Ted, some of us went over to my parents' house for dinner. Tom, Emma, and Katharine got to meet mom and dad for the first time, practically. Predictably, the 'rents went a bit overboard -- my dad made this complicated mediterranean chicken thing and my mom bought three pies from Trader Joe's. But I think a good time was had by all.

Links:

• I know it's a little creepy of me, but I am totally into this video.
• Little bit too late to do this now; maybe next time
• Bugs.
• Literally a fairly awful tattoo.

Kind of heavily fucked on projects at work, but started working on the communications layer of my rewrite of gzochi again, after a few-week hiatus brought on by frustration with this one library I was using that wasn't giving me adequate debug information for a problem I was having. What snapped me out of it was giving up on that and just trying to figure things out from the top down -- turns out I'd made a really obvious mistake that only took a second to correct (and revealed more and juicier things to fix elsewhere).

Reading The Amber Spyglass. Considering buying tix to the Rancid show on Aug. 25th.