Now that’s bizarre. My mom left a few pages in my room, torn from a magazine, from an article on the Dali exhibit in Philadelphia. The top page just suddenly floated about four feet, from the floor next to the end of my bed to the doorway to my bathroom. Obviously it was the light breeze from the air conditioner vent, but it was still surreal. An article about Dali flying across the room… would that be meta-surrealism?

I love my house. I always like to joke that it’s haunted. My bedroom door has a trick to it so that it’s difficult to open from the outside, but just requires a certain twist of the knob to open from the inside. Every so often, this door will randomly open, with no one nearby. It freaks my friends out whenever it happens. Also, because it’s an old house and it’s settling on its foundation, occasionally I’ll hear creaks that sound like someone walking around my parents’ room, when I’m the only one in the house. I’ve actually investigated the sounds on more than one occasion, thinking that someone had broken in.

And that’s your tangent for the evening.