I'm confused. Does that mean that when I woke up at 11 this morning, it was really 10? Either way, technology and a flexible schedule makes it such that I don't even have to pay attention to daylight savings time ending. Which is mostly sad but a little happy. Like this.

Last week, I hung out with a bunch of Algerians, today it's the gays at a coffee shop in southern Andersonville. Next week, it could be you.

I moved out of the housesit and back into the drift. Darick's last night, Nicole's this week, maybe next, and back to the cottage some time later. The strangest part of the housesit was the transition between them getting home (at 4am, me sleeping on the couch to allow them their own bed) and me packing up and leaving (at 4pm after the meeting at Bobby's). I think it was strange for them to see me feeling "at home" in their home, and it was strange for me to see anyone but myself in that space. But it only lasted a few minutes.

I somehow managed to subsist yesterday on coffee, coffee, an almond croissant, oatmeal in the afternoon, and a slice of pizza in the evening. And totally sleep deprived. Hence my relief to sleep in till 11 only to realize it was really 10. And yet I still went to two concerts back to back. One was a flutist friend who I mostly know through Twitter but also in real life. It was at a church 4 blocks from Darick's, so it seemed destined for me to go. But then she had the address wrong, and I had to iPhone it to figure out the right address. The point of the recital (I'm not used to concerts having points) was to raise money for TEAM in training, leukemia and blood cancer research. A guy spoke at intermission about how he somehow survived leukemia (as an adult) thanks to stem cell research. No, not like South Park shows Chris Reeve doing it. If I could pick just one cause to support, I would be a happy man. But, medical research doesn't do it for me. I think we support causes based on what frightens us the most--what we perceive as the greatest threat to ourselves. For me, I think natural disasters are, well, natural. But the injustice that humans perpetrate on fellow humans is both more easily preventable and more disappointing.

And then to a concert where the point was music. I went because this guy represents one of the things I'm trying to do with music. I've been hearing about him for a couple of years through articles and find his music much more like Pop songs than what I've done--more hooks, more catchy--but arranged in a beautiful way. The ensemble was also like what I've used: flute, clarinet/bass, violin, cello, piano, percussion. But he's much more of a singer than I am, much more of a performer. His performance was spiced up with theatrical elements that came and went, blips on the radar. I'm really glad I went: interesting arrangements and it helped me realize what I both love and loathe about pop music. A lot of it reminded me of a more angular, rhythmically-complex Sufjan Stevens.

After the performance, I saw some friends. Through them, I met this girl who had been to the salons in Hyde Park (and whose best friend played violin on Friday) and who plays violin with my old friend Mark in the Dead Super Heroes Orchestra. We're all connected.

Now, the time to procrastinate is over: I have to go drop off my stuff at Nicole's place and get my bike. I'm getting really good at logistics.

For more Zoë Keating, click here.

The sun is shining; it's a beautiful day.