I just lay down on my hammock with my computer to send some emails when a gigantic black flying thing began making passes by my head. Terrified, I slammed my computer shut and held it as a weapon, leapt out of the hammock and protected my face with the computer as I shrieked and ran inside. Inside I stood, astonished that this tiny creature could foil my plans so thoroughly. The neighbor's internet connection is accessible only outside, you see, so I watched and waited as this monstrous terror on wings continued to dart about my balcony. Eventually it crashed and fell belly side up onto the ground. As it frantically waved all six legs about in a futile attempt to right itself, I gained the courage to come back outside and write this. In the midst of my musings, however, merely a sentence or two ago (after several minutes of fruitless exertion) it managed to turn over and take flight. As soon as I knew what was happening I raced inside. Now it's gone, and I can write again. I'm glad that it absolved me of the difficult choice I was facing over whether or not to help it.
I had a meeting with someone over at Theater of the Oppressed this morning, and like every meeting that I've had in Rio, it was five-minute affair that could have easily taken place on the phone when I spoke with him last week. Furthermore, it really should have taken place 3 months ago when I first made contact and they could have told me that they do absolutely nothing for half the year instead of stringing me along from one person to the next. The upshot is that there may or may not be 1, 2, or 3 events in March that I could check out. Ah, the worst laid plans...
I'm thinking about writing a book titled, "On Gangs and Governments"
But really, the I'm more interested in coming up with titles of books than actually writing them.
In a surprising turn of events, I'm now off to meet a Czech woman who's just arrived in Rio. I have no idea what we're going to do.
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