Izzy Goes to Bollywood.

So I finally "experienced" Slumdog Millionaire. It was cute, but alarmingly formulaic for this day and age. I kept expecting some horrible thing to happen all the way up until the closing scene (which was followed, inevitably by an obligatory dance sequence) to show how life doesn't work out like in the movies. The directing was direct, all right, to the point of making me feel spoon fed by what the scenes had to convey. The soundtrack was ineffective, and ultimately, distracting. Every time a song would kick in, it was jarring, and not complimentary to what was happening on-screen. Here's the bottom line: Were it the exact same movie full of Caucasians, no one would have given a crap.

Without a Paddle.

I had a dream about my ex-girlfriend last night. But she wasn't her. She was Angela from The Office. I was in Seattle, but it was a self-manifested reflection of my disdain for the place. There were so many roads, that a lot of them were suspened in the air like a roller-coaster, and there were so many buildings, that the only place left for some of them was right in the middle of the street. I distinctly remember there being a Volkswagen dealership that was made entirely of glass, and the cars were parked in cubby holes, side-by-side, and stacked upon one another much like a shelving system for shoes. Only glass. I was walking past that establishment and I saw her. She was wearing a tiny, one-piece, powder blue tennis outfit that showed off every bit of her wonderful legs, and she looked positively stunning. She saw me and smiled with everything she had. She mentioned that it was weird to run into each other in a place we don't really frequent. She was truly happy to see me, and by the end of the dream, we were back together. I felt safe, and a little serene. It was not fun waking up to an empty bed, and the truth in general. Nor was it heartening to remember that an attractive, married man has been e-mailing her as though there exists a friendship between them of any kind.

Truth be told, I felt a little stupid. The prospect of being reunited with her is just as much a "sure thing" now as it ever was, when you get right down to it. A big fat "maybe". Only the circumstances around that "maybe" have changed, and some time has passed. Making it a "more than likely" now, I guess. It's still a bummer to dream about. Except for the fact that it was Angela. She can be downright statuesque.

I also ran into a group of Witnesses today. I was sitting inside Starbucks, listening to some music and drinking my coffee. It was actually quite a successful introspective moment, but then a group of four Witnesses walked in, and I was snapped from my thoughts. They were all dressed for service and seemed to be joyful in general. I suddenly felt self-conscious, awkward, and excluded, but not nearly as badly as I would have three months ago, which is really good news. It means that some sort of self-progress is being made internally. Instead of just feeling neglected, I felt sad that I couldn't join them, and was excited at the prospect of doing so in the future. That hasn't happened in years.

I'm not trying to complain here. It's like this: If life itself is the ocean, then (for me) getting it together spiritually and financially is like having a good row-boat. But, (again, this is just for me) being in love is like having oars. Without them, you're still safely afloat, and you can't really complain, but you'll probably just end up wherever the ocean takes you. And it might take you somewhere pretty sweet, like some island with a mysterious alcove... When you've got someone to care about, though, it gives you the tools to carve your own way through that same ocean, in that same boat. You feel more motivated to set your own course within the framework of that boat, on that ocean. Anyway, I want some oars, but it's probably going to take a while. It seems like I should worry about getting that boat first. What am I going to do with oars and no boat, right?

"Bicycle! Bicycle!" - Freddie Mercury

A little less than a year ago, I came across a craigslist posting for a couple of run-down bicycles. The owner was giving them away for free, on the condition that they be picked up by the interested party. I probably wouldn't have been interested, but they were both really old and charming, and I love a project, so I went and picked them up. One was an old delivery bike from China, equipped with a tiny generator for a pair of head-lights and a tail-light. I decided I'd put that one aside for my friend, Jessica. The other was a metallic silver 12-speed from a Coast-to-Coast store called a Medalist. That one was for me. All the bearings were shot and the chains were rusted on both bikes, making them both practically worthless. I liked the frame for the Medalist, though, so I decided to teach myself how to build up a bike from nothing but the original frame outfitted with new parts. I'll keep you guys posted as I make progress, and post photos of the whole process.

"Hang-Out" by Morella's Forest.

This release is an EP boasting 4 better than average tracks by a band previously unknown to me. The production (as is becoming the trend with these albums) is a bit thin, but the performances are rock solid. The female vocals fit right in with the big, noisy guitar stabs, and there's a pretty nice cover of Voices Carry by 'Til Tuesday. (Let's face it, I'm down with anybody who looks up to Aimee Mann) Though it's tough to base an opinion on so few songs, I do like the way they were headed. Cool name, too.