I woke up in a strange place

By Marc Heiden, since 1997.
See also: a novel about a monkey.


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March 28, 1998

Thunder (my cat) and I are continuing to get along just great, but he's really got to learn to adjust to my sleep schedule. if we chase each other around the apartment all night, I will not be minty fresh come morning because I don't get to take the sporadic half-hour naps that he does. I ended up not getting any sleep on Friday night, partially because he started making noise right as I was dozing off, but at least he bravely solved the mystery of the big empty box in my closet once and for all.

it's funny, during the rain storm, I think I found the lightning and the noise more surprising than he did.

anyway. I'd been planning on spending the last half of spring break in isolation, memorizing lines for the three (count 'em, three) different theater things that I'm doing in April (there's a fourth, but it's for Shakespeare class and I can read the lines off a paper if I like). one of those three is actually two: Potted Meat has two shows in April, the long awaited road show and a semester wrap-up. whee. I'm really proud of the three sketches I wrote for the final show. hm. seem to have slipped off on a tangent. well, the story ends like this: as of saturday morning, at least, I had not really done anything. where did the time go? I spent most of Friday night drumming at a party. I've spent most of the week in general on wheels. rollerbladed around the deserted campus at 4am on a thursday night, an experience I won't soon forget. the cemetary. I know it's been around since the 20's, perhaps even before that. I'm not sure. what a jarringly authentic place in the middle of this arena of the plasticine, though. I hadn't really ever gone out there, since it's way out just beyond the fringes of the fringes of the far end of campus furthest away from all living things save swine and cows. it's so neat, though. so real. perfectly creepy. I wanted to go in (it's rather large, too) but I figured that it was somehow illegal to do so at that hour and didn't. I sort of wish I had. maybe I will some time. it'd be interesting to spend a night there. MADMAN? whatever.

there's something fascinating about this, having been up all night and having sat up writing things with the massive storm as an influence and now typing this in the last few minutes before I have to rollerblade off to the radio station to do my engineering bit with the brightest sun I've seen in quite a long time staring at me through the window (I used to keep the shades closed at pretty much all times, but now I keep one half-open for Thunder to stare out of and talk jive with the neighborohood birds). does it mean anything? not really, just that I'll have a dry surface to do my rolling upon. but it's interesting in a vague sort of way, watching an extreme pass into another in less than two hours.

my aunt Chrissy out in california, one of a teeny tiny handful of cool people to whom I am related, gave birth to her first child (a boy) last night. another intelligent person has been brought into the world. how good. to quote the pure passionate poetic stylings of Steve Chan, "Let us all wish each and every one of them the best of luck with their future."

it's later on in the afternoon now. I rolled around, pressed play, pressed stop, pulled up M M1 and M2, and rolled around some more. I received an awesome surprise upon arrival at the station - not only had the new Pulp album come in (a couple days ahead of release in stores, but I'd been expecting it), but there was also a brand new four song sampler from Tori Amos's new album which isn't due out until May. how cool is that? this is the first time in my radio career that one (two) of my favorite bands has released stuff I've been looking forward to before it hit stores - there's been a few bands that I've gotten into because I listened to their new album at the station, but none that I'd been really waiting for. does that make sense? well, it does to me. so nyah. (oh, and the four songs are ACE!)

Thunder's really got to get used to people walking on the stairs outside.

there ought to be a law about what music frat houses can play. in fact, there ought to be a law preventing them from doing it at all. some things I just can't listen to anymore because of them...

spring break's a day away from its inevitable end. dispassionate papers to write, conference on the elimination of racist mascots (see the PAR link) in less than a week. shows, voices. at the end of it all, me and a cat. rock on.



I woke up in a strange place is the work of Marc Heiden, born in 1978, author of two books (Chicago, Hiroshima) and some plays, and an occasional photographer.

Often discussed:

Antarctica, Beelzetron, Books, Chicago, College, Communism, Food, Internet, Japan, Manute Bol, Monkeys and Apes, North Korea, Oregon Trail, Outer Space, Panda Porn, Politics, RabbiTech, Shakespeare, Sports, Texas.

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Written by Marc Heiden, 1997-2011.