Mrs.

Tonight it's ritards, or, more specifically, ritardando. Abby, right after I posted last week I stopped hearing irritating bridges. But I will write down the song name next time it happens.
Tonight it's the song that goes "love, love, love, love ... crazy love" on this Irish singers compilation I have on repeat. Like, a song is really bad and then they do this grand ritard for the 11th repetition of the chorus. Anyone?
In other news, I rearranged the front room and it is more nice and more cozier. I am doing the exact same thing I was doing last week -- fighting with Netbeans -- only the program looks better now and I learned how to avoid the "anchors," which is basically when the application thinks things should look a certain way and you say, "No, I actually want that button over here," and the software says, "Ok, yeah ... I can see that you want it over there but I'm going to keep it here and also completely reorganize everything that you just spent 2 hours arranging."
Neil is good. My car has a mysterious ailment that is very scary-sounding and prefers not to show itself to anyone except me. Which is why I drove to Tucson Car Care today, emergency lights on, hoping the car wouldn't blow up before I got there, and then drove around Tucson for 30 minutes today with a mechanic explaining that, no, it wasn't the CD player I'd heard.
Yesterday in yoga I was listening to meditative singing and thinking about how when you're really open and listen to certain types of music it sounds like an environment for the spirit to move through. And then I was thinking about Heaven, and how one conception of it is a sort of space for the spirit, and I was thinking about the music -- like, the vibe -- in Heaven and then it seemed like, wait, the spirit doesn't get born when you die -- it's here right now. So what kind of space is my spirit in right now. And the music was so cool and it made sense in a way, that, like, the spirit's environment can shift, so the "music" of it would maybe be a little more complex or a little more bucolic, depending. And if I am to follow that line of thinking, then all the time my spirit has its own environment, which is different from this living room and different from my brain. With some kind of music playing and some kind of mood. And I can tune into it whenever I want.
The concept of environment is very interesting this week. What do you[s] think?