Relative Something

mirror all fogged up!

Think about this: when you look yourself in the eye, in the reflection of your mirror, which eye do you naturally default to looking at?

It’s one or the other.

When you are doing tasks in front of the bathroom mirror, say, like brushing your teeth, gazing at yourself because that is what is there in front of you, (discounting you are one to wander off and walk around during the process like some people I know), do you look into your own eyes and not just at your general appearance?

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I was listening to my iTunes music library on shuffle last night. Just like how I enjoy the random images that my screen saver pulls out of the collection of jpeg images on the hard drive, I discover music anew when the random mix pulls up something I haven’t heard for what feels like lifetimes. One out of the many that gave me a kick last night was, Pat Benatar’s 1984 song “We Belong” with the chorus of children’s voices singing in the background. It’s the kind of song that I would have been driven mad from hearing it too often, and acquired a particular distaste for, but from the distance of almost 30 years… fun to hear again! Like magic!

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I’m a big fan of live recordings, but there is one thing that goofs up my shuffle mode of the digital era: introductions to songs that get coded as a separate cut. I hear the setup for the song by the artist, and then shuffle whisks away to a completely different artist/song. It just doesn’t work.

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I saw the movie, “Safe House” last night and got what I was expecting out of it, which was good. I was entertained. But… I tend to struggle with suspending my disbelief for details in movie scenes. It is distracting if something illogical is allowed to play out without acknowledgement. If you are going to have your main characters drive right up to a very large gathering of people at a major event, at least make up a reason why they would be able to pull into an open parking spot right in front with no delay in traffic. There was too much movie to make for them to worry about details like that. They had a story to tell, and that was just a piddly detail I was supposed to ignore.

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There is no denying that I am growing increasingly excited for the pending visit of my lovely wife this coming weekend. It will be an exercise of managing expectations, I am sure. Managing my expectations is an exercise I could use some work on lately, in a variety of areas of my life. I seem to be off target, because certain ones just aren’t being met.

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Speaking of exercise, I’m on a roll for the half-hour daily walk and series of therapeutic exercises for my back ever since Sunday’s unpleasant return of lumbar disk pain. So far, so good, for preventing any further discomfort. Was this a warning shot to help me realize these steps aren’t going to be just occasional projects for me, but a lifelong mode of operation?