Posts tagged coheed and cambria

At half past ten this morning, I was nudged to waking life by Willson, my roommate and one of my college best friends. (No, he’s not a volleyball, although I wouldn’t mind if he were.) Already hungry, he asked if I wanted to join him for brunch. I grunted in agreement. Ok, I thought, let me just wrap up the dream I was having before I was rudely interrupted by somebody’s prodding. It was of my feet stepping on a birthday cake. Or a wedding cake. I forgot. We both had galunggong and tortang talong. Then we trekked back home. He had plans for the day. I, on the other hand, did not. No doubt, today would turn out to be another one of those exceptionally lazy, slow Saturdays, when I would just lie in bed, staring at the ceiling and not even bothering to tweet (Imagine that!) about my inspired act of staring at the cobwebbed, hospital-white ceiling. Unless I think of something. I could read. I let go of my notebook and my HSDPA modem last Sunday and agreed to let the girlfriend have them for a month or so while I content myself with emailing and uploading my posts to Tumblr using only my iPhone exactly for that reason. That I might be free from the many distractions of the Internet on a full-size browser and I could finally focus on my long queue of books to read. So far, I had finished a couple of books. Then at a quarter past twelve today, I finished my first Pulitzer Prize-winning novel. After that I decided to put off my reading until tonight and thought of watching a movie or something on Willson’s laptop. I finally got to watch S05 E01 of Lost last night (yup, just last night) and I thought it was a bit weak and unusually unsatisfying for a season opener, so I was not really keen on watching another episode. I opted instead for a movie a downloaded copy of which was given to me yesterday by Wilson. Not Willson the roommate but Wilson the officemate. You could tell they’re two different persons ‘cause their names are spelled differently. The movie’s called The Hangover. The taskbar clock said 2:37 PM when Flo Rida started going Right Round and the end credits began rolling. Then I passed out. Or I might have just drifted off. Whatever. When I woke up an hour ago I could hear Coheed And Cambria’s Live At Starland Ballroom record booming through my earphones. And then I remembered watching what was easily the best, greatest and funniest display of surrealism I had ever seen. I want a Kit Kat.

At half past ten this morning, I was nudged to waking life by Willson, my roommate and one of my college best friends. (No, he’s not a volleyball, although I wouldn’t mind if he were.) Already hungry, he asked if I wanted to join him for brunch. I grunted in agreement. Ok, I thought, let me just wrap up the dream I was having before I was rudely interrupted by somebody’s prodding. It was of my feet stepping on a birthday cake. Or a wedding cake. I forgot.

We both had galunggong and tortang talong. Then we trekked back home. He had plans for the day. I, on the other hand, did not. No doubt, today would turn out to be another one of those exceptionally lazy, slow Saturdays, when I would just lie in bed, staring at the ceiling and not even bothering to tweet (Imagine that!) about my inspired act of staring at the cobwebbed, hospital-white ceiling. Unless I think of something.

I could read. I let go of my notebook and my HSDPA modem last Sunday and agreed to let the girlfriend have them for a month or so while I content myself with emailing and uploading my posts to Tumblr using only my iPhone exactly for that reason. That I might be free from the many distractions of the Internet on a full-size browser and I could finally focus on my long queue of books to read. So far, I had finished a couple of books. Then at a quarter past twelve today, I finished my first Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.

After that I decided to put off my reading until tonight and thought of watching a movie or something on Willson’s laptop. I finally got to watch S05 E01 of Lost last night (yup, just last night) and I thought it was a bit weak and unusually unsatisfying for a season opener, so I was not really keen on watching another episode. I opted instead for a movie a downloaded copy of which was given to me yesterday by Wilson. Not Willson the roommate but Wilson the officemate. You could tell they’re two different persons ‘cause their names are spelled differently. The movie’s called The Hangover. The taskbar clock said 2:37 PM when Flo Rida started going Right Round and the end credits began rolling.

Then I passed out. Or I might have just drifted off. Whatever. When I woke up an hour ago I could hear Coheed And Cambria’s Live At Starland Ballroom record booming through my earphones. And then I remembered watching what was easily the best, greatest and funniest display of surrealism I had ever seen.

I want a Kit Kat.