fractured reality

Stupid cold weather.

I couldn’t bring myself to get up early enough to shovel snow before work today. It was too comfy in the warm house. The sun, however, is out right now, so that’s nice.

I’m hoping for a nice relaxo* weekend. Maybe I’ll make some brownies, and I curl Sunday, but that’s about it.

+E

*co-opted from The Simpsons, from Rancho Relaxo, where Marge goes to de-stress.

So my brother sends me this blog title in a message, saying that the ringtone is one that he cannot place, and it’s driving him crazy. “it’s a melody that I know dad used to listen to all of the time/ I think it was played on an electric cello” he sends.

So I have him record the thing and send the music file to me. I utterly cannot place it, even though it’s familiar, all right.

“just imagine it with an electric cello and some other stuff in the background” he offers, helpfully. I listen to it about 14 times on repeat, and then I give up and head to my secret weapon: Musipedia. I type in the contour, humming the melody to myself, *RRUDDUDRUUDURRUDDUDRUUDU, and hit Enter. First result? Liszt, Franz: étude No. 6 Ami piano on Paganini’s caprice

Gah! Paganini!

Having identified the essential piece of music (Caprice no. 24) I look for variations that might have even possibly be played by Dad when we were younger. Yo-Yo Ma? Possibly, but no.

Then I spot it: Andrew Lloyd Webber. I find the Variations 1-4 on the second disc of Song and Dance and shoot the file to Tom.

“yep, that’s it exactly” he says.

Now the mystery, at least to me, is: did Dad even own that record? Was it part of a Collection Of album? What the hell kind of random thing is THAT for my brother to remember? I didn’t remember it, that’s for sure.

+E

So yeah, I’m not sure the exact nature of the injury, I imagine ti started out as either a strain or tear when I had my bad fall on the ice some 6 (7? 8?) weeks ago. I also imagine that if I stopped curling for a couple months, it would heal. I say this because if I take a week off, the pain seems more or less to go away. But after this past weekend of curling, my right lower back hurts again, and has for the past two days. Bleh to that.

We’re about to start the third event of the season, which means I’m signed up for 6 more weeks of curling, which I’m loathe to give up. I mean, there will be plenty of time for healing in the Spring, right?

Right. We’ll see how that goes.

+E

Oh hey I almost forgot, Sunday we were gabbing after the game and fellow curler said, in relating a story, “Are you in your late twenties like me, or early twenties?” I smirked and answered truthfully, but it was the first time I’d had that feeling of “aww, thanks” with regard to the age question.

At least I haven’t had that “getting carded by polite waitress while ordering a drink” pride, yet.

+E

This weekend was (predictably) good and short.

Friday was typical fare, with Neil refusing to join us, Chris coming over for Catan (which ended 10-9-8 and was a nice fast-paced game), drinks, and (this week) Rock Band. We wrapped up around midnight, and yes.

Saturday morning, I made gluten-free pacankes* and went to the downtown post office to get out passport photos/applications submitted. We came home and played through a few instances and then we got ready to go to the club.

The mini-bonspiel went pretty well, even if there was some conflict of views from the coaches. We played four ends (rotating positions after two ends), had some supper (steamed veggies, tortellini and similar fare), and played four more ends. We were down by five going into the eighth end and managed to score four points, so it wasn’t a total waste. It was also interesting to play a few ends in unfamiliar positions, making different shots and calling, executing plans.

We also did a silly game at the end which was dubbed the “lightsaber shot” wherein every person who wanted to would start from the hack of Sheet I and throw a single stone, unswept, into the far house of Sheet III. Except all the lights were turned off (there are no windows in the curling rink) and the only indicator of where to aim was a red lightsaber (held by someone very confident that no one will take out his feet) pointing down at the button of the target house. Three people (out of maybe twenty) made it into the house, and prizes were awarded, and then we called it a night.

Sunday I had more curling, and we played incredibly well, up by 7 going into the sixth end. We decided to shake after the seventh end, which was a nice note to end on for our six weeks together as a team.

Then there was a rainy drive home and pizza, Good Eats, and more silly game playing before slumber.

I don’t know exactly why it is, but since we get to wear jeans the next two weeks at work, it somehow makes it seem less hectic, harrowing.

Psychosomatic indEEd.

Be good, y’all.
+E

*Very similar to pancakes, only spelled by a drunken person.