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				My housesittin' stint is over.  I accomplished most of my goals--"Highlands" is committed to memory, I made homemade spaghetti with my pasta machine, and all scandalous rumours seem to've been quelled.  In the meantime, I also started to watch Battlestar Galactica (the new one, not the old one, which I remember watchin' as a kid, so some of the names rang recognizeable, as well as the updated spaceship designs), I jammed with the lead guitarist of my old band The Meanwhilers (we're playin' his brother's weddin' with a him on acoustic guitar, a friend of the groom on vocals, and me on a synthetic piano), and my quartet became a trio (see followin' paragraphs). I stopped to chat with my first violinst, who was tapin' some photocopied pages of music at the music library's circulation desk.  We exchanged the knowledge of our plans for the summer. My second violinst was gettin' a second helpin' of strawberries at a reception after a bassonist's recital.  I relayed to her the updated keys, the delicious desserts, and her juries. The first piece on the program of my violist's masters recital was a Brandenburg concerto--she'd recruited a harpsichordist, a gang of violists, a double bass, and my cellist. She mentioned the possibility of one last rehearsal before summer started.  But, she most specifically specified, I had to talk to the first violinst--the other three aren't on speakin' terms at the moment. At the housesittin' house, they'd cable, so I'd push "guide" on the sophisticated remote control and scroll thru the hundreds of channels.  In the past, I could kill hours watchin' music videos.  But these days, those seem to do the opposite--they make me ultra aware of time, and thus waitin' around for it to die, which takes longer with each attention releasin' duration of each mind findin' song.  Movies also used to be somethin' I'd chew on cable.  But this time around, I couldn't find anythin' that was accompanied by a second thought in terms of tunin' in.  I've got fond memories of the last time with Luna Lovegood, and I would've settled on seein' her again, but her film wasn't in rotation durin' the two weeks of my stay.  So what I ended up tunin' in to slayl time was the comedy channel. To be specific, the standup acts.  I gotta say, my respect for comedians hasn't diminished--it's such a focused artform, namely it's just someone makin' a crowd laugh.  Anyways, when I wasn't learnin' Dylan or readin' about noodles, I found myself with a beer, comfy on their couch, and chucklin' at hilarious jokes.  I've listened to a bunch of albums, but never've seen too many live or videotaped.  There's a physical dimension that was previously hidden. Welcome back. (7.3.09)