Roman Edirisinghe

For those of you in the tropics or sub-tropics:
We are having the greatest weather here in Wisconsin. You should come pay us a visit. Bring me a mango or something.

I was sitting at my cube yesterday when I overheard some people talking about wedgies. Not potato wedges, but wedgies, you know, like when someone grabs the back of your underwear and pulls really hard, jamming your underwear in your ass-crack and making your underwear resemble a thong. I had to stifle laughter as several people remarked on how they had no idea what a wedgie was. The initiator of the conversation, a rather open-minded woman, seemed similarly affected, but maintained her composure and didn’t volunteer a definition.

So I sent her an email today: “I can’t believe people don’t know what a wedgie is.”
Her reply: “yeah i’m having a hard time grasping that fact as well…”

Perhaps it’s a Gen-X thing. Maybe we were the only ones who were fortunate enough to fall victim to a wedgie.

1. Get rid of unnecessary stuff. I am a packrat, and this junk is wearing on my soul.
2. Get outta Dodge. I need to move, maybe out of the city but DEFINITELY out of my house.
3. Refuse any project that doesn’t bring me complete joy.
4. Get more sleep.

My friend in prison wakes up in the morning and sings Madonna songs and catchy showtunes. By midday, he’s got the heavy thug types humming, whistling or singing, “Like a Virgin.” Apparently, they can’t get the bloody, sissy songs out of their heads. Scientists at Dartmouth College have found out why.
via BBC NEWS

Celebrated columnist Robert Miranda’s posts somehow appear in my inbox from time to time. Funny, because I don’t think I subscribed to them. However, I do read them, as he’s got some good ideas under his hood. He’s been at the cutting edge of those speaking out against Mark Belling’s bigotry, and openly criticizes those not acting in the interests of the people.
His current article compares Milwaukee to 1960’s Alabama, focusing on the insidious segregation prevalent in this city, and the unwillingness of city officials (and civilians) to address the problems.
via WisOpinion.com

Last week I agreed to help a former band mate accompany Betty Salamun’s DanceCircus for their performances of Salt. I now sincerely regret my decision.

Last night, I arrived at 7 pm, which was the time we had all agreed to meet. The dancers were present, along with one of the other musicians (one). I sat around for 1.5 hours waiting to actually do something. I finally left at 11 pm. Crabby. Tonight will be no different. 4 hours is a waste of my time. Next time I will simply say, “No.”

“They are more cynical than I am.” – Ray Krause

While waiting backstage, Connie & I did shots of wasabi during the Salt rehearsal.

This site has some great suggestions on how to get those annoying “Slavas” and “Yahrs” out of your personal bubble.
via Slacker Manager

My favorite question of the night has got to be: “What are your intentions toward _______?”

My new pet peev is about those people who simply refuse to let others live their lives and make their own choices. Especially those that would potentially chase people away from their friend, or prevent their friend from jumping into that beautiful ocean, where one can either drown or experience magical kingdoms of coral.

Also, life is too short to be bitchy. Especially to nice people like me.

‘Nuff said. I remain true to myself. Let people make their judgements.