Aerden (aerden) wrote,

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Crime Night Tuesday and Butterflies of the Soul

TV: House, MD is a repeat of my least favorite episode, so I will watch Doig tonight at 8pm, skip Growing Up Gotti, and watch the Crossing Jordan rerun. I'm not sure if I'll watch Cold Case Files; depends on whether I've seen the episode before.

Work: I had my photograph taken for my badge today. I probably won't receive my badge for another month, but at least the image won't suck.

I've been asked to speak at something called the TAER Conference (Texas Association for education and Research) this weekend at Greenway Plaza, along with two other people who have visual impairments, one of whom runs a snack store in a federal building. under what is called the BET (Business Enterprise Training program. I'm hoping it'll be Jeff Henley, this amazing man who spoke to us during Job Club, but Kelly, who invited me to speak, didn't mention his name, so it probably isn't he. A real pity, that. The guy is a fantastic speaker.

Dinner: Tonight, it's broiled pork steaks marinated in Asian spices--delicious!

Some Neurological Lyricism: So beautiful...

Como el entomólogo a caza de mariposas de vistosos matices, mi atención perseguía, en el vergel de la sustancia gris, células de formas delicadas y elegantes, la misteriosas mariposas del alma, cuyo batir de alas quien sane si esclarecerá algún día el secreto de la vida mental.

Like the entomologist in search of brightly colored butterflies, my attention hunted, in the garden of the gray matter, cells with delicate and elegant forms, the mysterious butterflies of the soul, whose fluttering wings would someday--who knows?--enlighten the secret of mental life.

--Santiago Ramon y Cajal

Tom's Diner

I am sitting
In the morning
At the diner
On the corner

I am waiting
At the counter
For the man
To pour the coffee

And he fills it
Only halfway
And before
I even argue

He is looking
Out the window
At somebody
Coming in

"It is always
Nice to see you"
Says the man
Behind the counter

To the woman
Who has come in
She is shaking
Her umbrella

And I look
The other way
As they are kissing
Their hellos

I'm pretending
Not to see them
I pour the milk

I open
Up the paper
There's a story
Of an actor

Who had died
While he was drinking
It was no one
I had heard of

And I'm turning
To the horoscope
And looking
For the funnies

When I'm feeling
Someone watching me
And so
I raise my head

There's a woman
On the outside
Looking inside
Does she see me?

No she does not
Really see me
Cause she sees
Her own reflection

And I'm trying
Not to notice
That she's hitching
Up her skirt

And while she's
Straightening her stockings
Her hair
Is getting wet

Oh, this rain
It will continue
Through the morning
As I'm listening

To the bells
Of the cathedral
I am thinking
Of your voice...

And of the midnight picnic
Once upon a time
Before the rain began...

I finish up my coffee
It's time to catch the train

--Suzanne Vega

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