Friday, April 29, 2005

Me and Rory, Sittin' in a Tree

There was a big thunderstorm the night before last. Somewhere around midnight the power went out and the resulting Marco-Polo match between family members on the first and second floors of my house kept me awake much longer than I would've liked. So, not much sleep.

Last night I went to bed pretty early in hopes of catching up on the hours purloined the previous night. Theoretically, this happened; the night was quiet, the window was open, the covers were drawn, the pillows were fluffed, my eyes were closed.

In actuality, I woke myself up every twenty minutes all night with dreams that must've been intensely vivid at the time, though they were completely forgotten the moment I was conscious. They had to have involved lots of falling, because most of the time I woke up with that whole "oh-no-I'm-gonna-hit-the-pavement-oh-God-here-it-comes" spasm. Still, who knows what I was actually dreaming about; I can't remember anything.

The only dream nugget still with me is stuck in my head like Gloria Estefan's "Get On Your Feet" [doo do, dodo doo dooodo doo]. I woke up with the overall impression that I urgently needed to speak to Rory Krumholtz. Though I have no idea what it would be about, there is a very powerful cosmic force driving me to seek whatever information Rory has.

I should just give Rory a call or drop an e-mail or something. I would if I had ever in my entire life met or heard of a person named Rory Krumholtz.

I don't know if Rory is even a boy or a girl. I don't know if this is some piece of eighties sitcom trivia my subconcious has regurgitated just to fuck with me. I don't know if I'm supposed to prevent a murder. I don't know if I spelled "Krumholtz" right. I do know that Google produced not a single individual named Rory Krumholtz, or Rory Crumholtz, or Rory Krumholts, or Rory Krumholz.

I wouldn't be harping on this if I didn't have such a strong impression that that name should mean something to me.

So, if anyone has any information on the whereabouts of one Mr. or Ms. Rory Krumholtz, please let me know.* **


*Take your sweet time if Rory Krumholtz is a baby, or dead. Or both, and the cornerstone of frisbee-team, beer-chuggin' humor on campuses across the country.
**If Rory is a superfine single fella, tell him I'll pay his airfare.

7 Comments:

Anonymous Mombi said...

I'm pretty sure that Rory is The Spindleshay's slightly less scary, superfine, brother.

1:23 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

Well then could you tell The Spindleshay to tell Rory to quit bugging me while I sleep? I mean, it's totally friggin' rude.

But, in all seriousness, I just posted a message on the CraigsList.com "Missed Connections" board. Let's see if anyone knows anyone with that name.

1:31 PM  
Blogger JMH said...

Just for fun, i did a little search myself. Found this on whitepages.com:

R Krumholtz
22416 Hillside Ave
Queens Village, NY 11427-2012
(718) 468-4568

don't know what the R stands for but it could be Rory, and the guy (or girl) does live in NY, so maybe, just maybe...

1:54 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

I may call that. Seriously.

1:57 PM  
Blogger JMH said...

There was actually one more in NY:

R Krumholtz
35 Seacoast Ter, Apt 8D
Brooklyn, NY 11235-6038
(718) 615-9719

Oh, and I have recurring nightmares about being behind the wheel of the car but being unable to control it. Scares the heck out of me till i force myself to wake up.

2:02 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

I found a band called Rory. There's a definite looker, too...

www.roryrock.com

2:14 PM  
Blogger Kunaxa said...

Sorry, entirely unrelated ... but today I heard the iTunes exclusive "Army of Me: Remixes and Covers" (bjork album).

In the wake of OPPL, and Ring My Bell's recordings...I Thought I'd share that I found track #14 on the album:

'R.Luvbeats (The Liquid Riot Mix)'

amazingly and Rory-Krumholtzingly reminiscent of you and brad. (Brad's style in general) - Check it out.

6:24 PM  

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