I often find myself thinking miniscule [sic], trivial thoughts for tens of minutes at a time. Is this normal? (I don’t mean petty thoughts, I mean thoughts not only inane, but stupefyingly inconsequential in scope.)

One time in Prague (this is a few months ago) I walked across an entire bridge thinking only of how the tram drivers could appropriately be induced to drive the old–as opposed to the new–trams. That is to say, the entire trans-bridge walk (maybe five minutes) was spent devising, considering and solving the faultlessly extraneous- to- my- life problem of how the drivers of old trams ought to be recompensed. (I think I ended up with something completely obvious, like an auction.)

I’m pretty sure thoughts like this occur to me often; I only noticed this one because it was neatly marked out in time by the end-points of the bridge. Do you ever lie in bed for an hour, or half an hour, only to get up to the realisation that you can remember nothing at all of the thoughts that had been merrily morris dancing their way through your head?

I saw Memento last night, which was rather good, although the ending is a bit of a rip-off in a Sixth Sense-ish kind of way. (I didn’t think Memento’s stunt was quite so forgivable.) The funny thing is, after seeing the movie (which has Guy Pearce as a guy who uses annotated Polaroids as a substitute for the short-term memories that he can no longer form) I went into Borders, found the Sylvia Plath Journal that I had been looking for, then, after pottering around a bit more, carried it through the security thingy and out of Borders. The alarm didn’t go off, and I only remembered that I hadn’t paid for it as we were paying for parking. Weird! I’ve never done this before. (I went back and paid for it.)

Dessert recommendation: Nata de Coco. It’s cubes of white, semi-transparent “coconut gel” (it doesn’t taste of coconut) in syrup. You can get it in Asian grocery stores, packed in cans or jars. Very yummy. Mix it with canned fruit and crushed ice.

I missed a sign:

United Nations Plaza
CLOSED
12 Midnight to 6AM
Everyday
Except to through traffic
(A copy of this rule may be obtained
from the director’s office, department
of public works, City Hall.)
Alcohol consumption and
camping are prohibited
without a valid permit.
SF Park Codes Secs. 4.12 and 3.12

– United Nations Plaza, San Francisco. [Many homeless people hang out there.]

From Appendix XIII of the Concise Oxford Dictionary, 9th Edition–a style guide:

8. Exclamation mark

This is used after an exclamatory word, phrase, or sentence expressing any of the following:

8.1 Absurdity:

What an idea!

8.2 Command or warning:

Go to your room!
Be careful!

8.3 Contempt or disgust:

They are revolting!

8.4 Emotion or pain:

I hate you!
That really hurts!
Ouch!

8.5 Enthusiasm:

I’d love to come!

8.6 Wish or regret:

Let me come!
If only I could swim!

8.7 Wonder, admiration, or surprise:

What a good idea!
Aren’t they beautiful!

[Note that each use is equally-well illustrated by the simpler, and more straight-forward Fuck!, with the possible exception of 8.2 (Fuck off! better?) and 8.5 (Fuck yeah! better?).]

I finished my thesis on Friday and since then I’ve been doing not much pretty intensely. Lots of parley and lots of pool.

There’s a few things I planned to buy once I’d turned my thesis in: clothes, a CD burner, a haircut and some music CDs. I did get the haircut yesterday, but until today I hadn’t been able to find any of the other stuff I want. (Yesterday, for example, I returned home with two pairs of socks, a bottle of whisky (Chivas Regal), and a rainbow trout, none of which I’d been looking for at the start of the day.) Today I got two of the CDs I wanted: Ted Hawkins’s The Next Hundred Years and The Velvet Underground’s, er, The Velvet Underground & Nico.

Tonight I went to see my brother’s indoor soccer team play. (He talks about it a lot, I thought I should see what the deal was.) When you’re, say, 18, and your brother is 14, there’s no fucking way you’d even think about dating any his friends, but there comes a time when that arrangement becomes vaguely feasible… (I’m not actually interested in any of his friends. It’s a hypothetical possibility though, which is weirding me out.) I discussed this question with Brad recently. His younger brother apparently had the gall to say (nonchalantly) that since he wasn’t interested in a particular female friend of his, Brad–his older brother–could “have her” if he wanted. Younger brothers of the world: please do not ever say anything like this.

I’m going to Phillip Island tomorrow. I called Christine (who rented the holiday house there) and she happily reported that all day she’d only said two words: “Not yet.” She did explain how she managed to get by with just these words but I forget what she said. But it seems you don’t get much “How much are those?”– “$1.60″– “Okay, one please” at Phillip Island, it’s more grunting and pointing.