Notes:

"I never call, I never write..."

Mon, 09 Oct 2006 16:06:58 GMT

Hi, folks.

Still not doing much of anything with this here journal, but I thought you all should know that I'm still alive.

Braindrain:
--I went to Las Vegas, failed to get cast in STOMP, and had a pretty great time anyway. I ran around in the crazy sunny city. I hung out with my friend Billy. Which was interesting and great and mind-expanding, in that way that only getting-to-know can be. Matt was there and didn't seem too happy about my being there, and then we had a good time, and he still didn't seem too happy about my being there. Them's the breaks. The desert gives me chapped lips.
--I'm still sort of persona non grata around here, in an emotional way. Working on it. My friends are busy.
--Waiting tables part time at a fancy-schmancy restaurant. Just exactly what you'd expect. Staff is cool, owners are total psychos.
--Doing some freelance editing. Need to do more.
--Moved house. Again. The first house I was in REALLY didn't work out, for a number of reasons, and I'm not laying them all out here because they are mean and may involve a lot of swearing and casting aspersions on other people's character, and I don't feel like getting into all that right now. So. I'm in a new house, with a pretty cool roomate. He's lived in town forever and he's a big nerd and we get along and there's no drama and he won't mind if I paint my room. So now I have to paint my room.
--Something flew into my eye while I was biking yesterday morning, and now my eye is all red and inflamed and hurty and feels like I have pink eye or something and I'm supposed to go to work today and I really don't need this THANKS SO MUCH. Sigh.
--I feel wierd. There are some very important old friends whom I need to talk to, and I haven't done it. And there is strange emotional turmoil swirling around another old friend, and I'm not sure if I'm handling it in the best way. I feel sort of busted. Like I don't necessarily work right. I'm glad to be where I am, and I'm not crashing and burning, but I'm slow. Operation "Jo Becomes a Better Human" is slow. Really slow.
--I haven't heard from J9 in ages and it makes me sad.
--Sang some songs with Aran, since the band proper seems to be a non-entity right now. Screw it. Screw it to the wall and throw tomatoes at it. I am not going to let other people's sadness and weirdness and inability to cope slow me down. I have enough of my own garbage slowing me down. I don't need extra. I won't take it.
--I'm still riding my bike everywhere.
--I'm going swing dancing in Knoxville next weekend. Lindy exchange. It will mean spending quite several potentially horrible hours on a Greyhound bus, but the dancing will be hot.
--Tomorrow night there's a big old dance party here in town. Mr. Reed is in town, and will be contributing to the DJ madness. I'm going to go shake it.
--The weekend after next is a big festival in North Carolina, and I'm going, and Matt's going, and Aran's going, and ma and pa are going to be there! I get to see my beloved parents! I'm so pleased. The only way it could be better is if Dee were coming, too. But. It's going to be good. A little coincidental family vacation. With folk dancing.
--For the first time in my life, I find myself wanting to own and use a camera. I'm not sure if I want to give in to this urge. I have mixed feelings about cameras. But for some reason I like the way my optic nerves are working. Everything else is cruddy, but I'm seeing things in an interesting way. Pink eye notwithstanding. If I still feel this way next week, I may look into getting a camera. Have to think about it. Might borrow one.
--I'm thinking a lot right now. I know I'm not doing much, not doing enough, but I'm thinking a lot. I hate this phase. I know I'll pass through it eventually and have a couple of weeks where everything lurches forward and there's action everywhere, but, man, I'm not there right now, and it annoys the piss out of me. I'm spending too much time talking to myself. I guess that's part of why I'm writing this. I haven't been doing much output and I want there to be some evidence that all this alternately terrifying and mundane shit is going on over here. Some evidence that I have, in fact, been busy, if only in my head.

In conclusion: Pink eye sucks. I miss a lot of people. I'm not quite functioning up to my usual standards, but I'm sure it's just a phase. My brain is whirring. I'd be glad to elaborate on any of the topics introduced here, for anyone who wants to know.

brain 'splode

Thu, 11 May 2006 17:20:49 GMT

HI ENOLA! I LOVE YOU!

Er. Yes. Hello.

As fast as I can: Currently couch-surfing in NYC, still moving to Virginia in July, have a small part in a play (AS AN ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL WTF can I someday get an adult role PLEASE AND THANK YOU, JESUS EFFING CHRIST), the bike is finished and is the most beautiful thing in the world and I ride it everywhere every single day, my dad had a birthday, my mom is coming to visit, taxes sucked, I'm working all the time, I have to buy new glasses, I have to buy a computer, life and the world and the old ends of things continue to break my heart and somehow I'm fine with it.

That's all really.

Everyone should get bikes. Bicycling is the transportation method of the gods, I'm convinced.

In case anyone is wondering, all of the following still apply: my favorite color is black, my favorite drink is grapefruit juice, my favorite grownup drink is scotch, my favorite classic comic-book superhero is Batman, my favorite food is almost everything, my favorite body part is/are hands, my favorite smell is a tie between woodstove and cardamom, my favorite word is go, my favorite classes of inanimate object are paper and vintage clothing, and and my favorite person might be you.

I have to get back to work now.

Godspeed. I wish there were a way to say "Godspeed" without saying "God." Let's work on that. Safe travels.

I am an LJ truant.

Mon, 30 Jan 2006 21:12:34 GMT

Yes, I suck at this "update on a semi-regular basis" thing. Sorry. You all know me, so you know that, and you can just be pleasantly surprised whenever I pull my head out of my rear long enough to post on my freaking journal and give you a clue what's going on. I hope.

All the news that's fit to print:
--Am in rehearsal for a smashing modern dance piece.
--Relatedly, have a broken toe. And it's not because I'm a clodpole. Somebody fell on my foot. Completely not my fault. Damn and blast.
--Am moving to Virginia in July (?). That question mark is for the date. I'm definitely moving.
--The band is cool.
--My boss is on vacation and I'm really busy.
--I made out with one of my drinking buddies and it DIDN'T fuck anything up, so, two points for me.
--I found an amazing vegetarian Thai restaurant. Actually Reed found it and now I eat there all the time.
--Still no bike. Uncle's soul-crushing schedule of dissertating continues to thwart bike-building plans. This will change. It will change soon, if only for one weekend, one Saturday, or I will beat up uncle.
--My face is just ridiculously awful and I am sick of it and I'm going to scrape it off and go get a new one.
--My hair, on the other hand, is fab.
--I've discovered I like polka dots.
--The weather is totally schizophrenic up in here.
--Ma is coming to visit in March, woo!
--Damn the man; save the Empire!

For my dear Enola:

FIVE GUILTY PLEASURES (in no particular order)
1) Hot dogs. I know they are wrong in nearly all the ways a supposed foodstuff can be wrong, but, oh, how I love them.
2) Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Also, as alluded to above, Empire Records. We all know I'm really picky and a big old acting snob, but sometimes a stupid teen thing or two makes it past my defenses and infects my brain for all eternity. Notice that The Adventures of Pete and Pete is not on this list, for it is not a guilty pleasure. No, it is pure genius. Same goes for Danger Mouse.
3) Nose picking. You know you do it, too.
4) Expensive clothing. I am a whore for sartorial splendor, and I know it. I assuage the guilt by shopping almost exclusively second-hand. Relatedly (and I am cheating, because this is a guilty pleasure all on its own, and should have its own number), www.gofugyourself.com .
5) Looooong showers. I make no apologies. Hot water in the morning is my drug of choice.

(Guilty Pleasure Runners up: Gin, singing on the street and making people think I'm crazy, 1980s pop music, chocolate, tickling my ticklish friends, spending too much time on the Internerds, etc., etc.)

Convalescence.

Wed, 21 Dec 2005 22:00:48 GMT

Wow.

I just spent three days in bed. Involuntarily.

Glad that's mostly over.

I am, resultantly, way behind on the Christmas organizing and the visiting of people in Cleveland, and they keep calling me, to remind me of this. "Are you better yet?" "No." "But, but, we were supposed to go eat dinner." "Would you like me to come cough on you? I can do that instead."

I hope that you few listeners remain undefeated by the holiday monsters. Last week was really freaking weird, and it just made me sort of cling at you, and I know that might have been strange, but. I mean well. I'm gonna go, dunno, cook something, or something. I've been sleeping for seventy-two hours so it hasn't really sunk in that I'm on vacation.

There's snow here!

Since we last spoke...

Fri, 16 Dec 2005 22:57:35 GMT

...a year passed. Year and change.

But now it's winter, and winter makes me think about big plans, and about small things, and makes me want to take the long strings that are attached to all of your middles and gather them into my hand and pull, hard.

So.

I wrote a little, but not enough. I took some dance classes. I still haven't built the motherfucking bike, but I will soon. I worked a lot and didn't accomplish anything important. I had five or six truly perfect, mind-expanding, beauty-exposing, truth-grasping conversations. I got dumped by somebody I love. I made a CD with some people I love. I made some plans. I ate too much take-away. I sang. I made a few interesting new friends. I saw a good play. I turned twenty-five. I...well, I had a year. And so did you. And that's that. I can't remember all the details. And I am regarding this here online journal with a wary consternation that I can't quite explain, so I don't know that I'll post all the time or anything (I know, shocker, right?), but I do think I'll be slightly more visible to radar in the future.

I have to go now. I have things to do and things to put in the mail and a lot of dirty laundry to process and I'm leaving for Ohio for the holidays and it's all just very busy as I'm sure you can imagine, but, hi, hello, nice to see you again. We'll talk.

ego ego ego

Thu, 16 Sep 2004 16:55:20 GMT

anybody who takes a look at my comments will notice that ben stupid has made me a little icon dealie.

i myself took a look at the comments and noticed that ben stupid obviously thinks i am super hot. damn, puppy!

then again, he hasn't seen me in a while. perhaps his memory was in a really good mood that day...

so. picture. i have this feeling i'm going to get annoyed and freaked out by the constant presence of a little cartoon jo-head (no offense to the creator of said admittedly cute little jo-head), so i'll probably end up eventually just taking a picture of my shoes and using that, or going back to no-icon status, but i thought i'd give it a whirl.

on a related note (cutesiness): i wore my old red dress today, and about a half an hour ago was overcome by the urge to spin in the hallway on the way back from the photocopier. and got caught in the act by my unassailably cool boss. she got a kick out of it, i got a face to match my dress. do i feel like a twelve year old? why yes, yes i do.

on an unrelated note: it's fall, and that's good. and i don't have to work at the restaurant tonight, and that's really good.

so last time i checked...

Tue, 14 Sep 2004 19:10:18 GMT

...it was a week ago.
i swear somebody has shortened my days to 16 hours instead of 24 without my permission. gah.

been sort of a routine worky week, with a few weird highlights. first off, i learned on wendesday, belatedly, due to unchecked busy-ness on both our parts, that matt got in a car accident on his way out of the city, which is terrible and made me jump up and down in an awful stew of anger and frustration and adrenaline and fear and emotional goo. which was unnecessary, because he's fine, thank goodness, not a scratch, but the noble volvo is pretty trashed. driveable, but trashed, and to fix it will be a fund-sucking endeavor of the highest order. so. that was bad.
but the ensuing phone call was very good. hm.

and i ran into a girl that i went to mountain school with in high school. so bizarre. she came into the restaurant with a bunch of friends. when you add that to my freakishly nice dinner with nicole, and to the fact that i, out of the blue, with no outside prompting (unheard of), called up an old mountain school chum while i was up in new england (hey caleb, what's shakin?), and to the predictable but still head-spinning reappearance (a few months ago) of my old friend tj as a grownup living in the city, plus a few other less exciting but just as personally affecting unplanned interfaces with bits and people from my past, it starts to look like strange tender micro-historical forces are getting busy in my life in a serious way. my personal universe is contracting. as patrick would say - ideaspace is very strong right now.

worked sunday night. worked last night. working tonight. working tomorrow night. working saturday night (suck!), which is especially bad because my ma will be in town that day, and it means i won't get to have a nice relaxed actual weekend day where i don't have to think about any scheduling. it's really no big deal, i mean, she's going to be headed back to dee's family's place by the time i have to go to work anyway, but it would be nice not to have to go directly to the restaurant after having my vacation day with ma. upside - working at the restaurant means i get a handy hookup if i want a reservation at any of the places he owns, so ma and i are going to balthazar for lunch, which should be lovely. it was a treat to see her in vermont. good dancing. she suffered a blister and had to play old-lady earlier than expected, and it was still fun. (hi ma - i love my stylish potato).

oh! news flash! the lovely and talented kristin marie andreassen is moving to new york. this development presents endless possibilities in terms of singing, dancing, carousing, and generally having someone around to be a folky dork with me.

on a slightly related note: benjones offered me a semi-permanent loan of an old four track, and i keep neglecting to collect it. this must change. i must get it, and i must practice, and no matter how embarrassing it is, i must send ben stupid a tape with a particular song on it.

and rog called me. which made my day in an entirely disproportionate way.

and i have intense mail-art projects in the works. assuming i can get a full night's sleep some time in the next month, i may marshall the brain cells to finish them. pray for me, my dear correspondents.

reading: Last Things, by David Searcy. creepy.

la la la.

Tue, 07 Sep 2004 16:41:20 GMT

i love everybody.

here are some people that i love especially right now this morning:
(a partial list)

matt - because we just had the best vacation ever even though it only lasted three days. went up to western mass, went dancing, stayed with lovely hippie-types, then drove to stuart kenney's (awesome bass player, super dad, and possessor of hot tub and lots of woods), hung out with the kenneys, went swimming, set up the tent, ate a bunch of string beans and sweet corn and pork roast cook on the grill, went in the hot tub, played with stuart and alice's wild children, got cleaned up, went dancing, sat around and talked and had tunes until about four a.m., slept till one, ate french toast, swam, played, went to town for coffee and supplies, showered, went dancing literally all night (brattleboro dawn dance), got home about 8 a.m., slept till one, got up, stumbled deliriously into the kitchen to make eggs and veggies and snausages, played with kids, went in hot tub, went for walk, talked with stuart, baked cookies, took naps, packed tent, retrieved belongings that had been strewn around the kenney residence either by us or the wild children, packed car, drove to nyc, with much singing in the car. and matt continued on to maryland, there to pack and move to charlottesville and complete final tie-severing with evil cultish dance group. so. good weekend. camping and dancing and lazing with matt. singularly unproductive and much-needed.

bos - because he gave me a right and proper email scolding after i did a bit of self-loathing whining over the net. he basically went "you don't suck, and you're crazy and you suck for thinking that you suck. snap out of it! grr!" um. yes. thank you. sometimes it's nice to be reminded that chronic pansy-ass low self esteem is for chumps, because then even if you fall victim to it, you realize that it's lame and festering and gross and you have to keep a sharp eye on it to avoid becoming whiny and non-useful. plus it was just really good to hear from him, ego boost notwithstanding. plus he sent me a package from china, containing a bracelet and a tiny amazing kids' book about dreams and rabbits, with simultaneous english translation written in by mr. bosworth himself. fantastic pen drawings of giant rabbits. so good.

ben stupid - because even though he is busy and crazy and off having a beautiful and difficult life of his own in chicago, he sent me a neato package with notes and recipes and A PICTURE OF MY PRETEND BOYFRIEND! (that would be savion glover, the coolest thing on two legs.) i am happy. i like getting stuff in the mail. i especially like getting stuff from friends that i have not seen in a million years or so. stupid - i officially owe you a proper thought-out letter and some recipes. and probably some other stuff too. i lose track. it doesn't matter. letters, letters are wonderful things. not to be horrible and crude (okay, actually, i'm going to be horrible and crude), but letters are the complete opposite of bad food: good on the way in and good on the way out.

(*belch*)

alec - because he just moved to new york. blam!

m-squared - because i miss her and need to give her a call.

patrick a. reed - because it will annoy him. and because he gave me his old black hat.

enola - just because.

...
i'm hungry. and i'm way too punchy to be at work. good thing it's about lunchtime. rar. i want to go dancing again. and i would also like a piece of pie. any kind except blueberry. so if somebody could just take care of those couple of things, that would be great, i'd be a happy woman. (also, the student loans. but take care of the dancing and the pie first.)

big surprises.

Fri, 27 Aug 2004 17:34:07 GMT

so i went out to dinner with this girl nicole last night.
and i had a wonderful time.

that right there is so great and surprising that i don't really need to say anything else, but in the interest of not appearing cryptic, i will mention the following:

1) we talked, a lot, about high school, among other things, and in a very lighthearted and accepting way.
2) we expressed our mutual consternation at the overwhelmingly khaki way some of our classmates seem to have gone.
3) we talked about our respective jobs, and about not being as actively creative as we'd like.
4) we ate burgers.
5) we laughed our asses off.

it was nice. downright life-affirming. yes, i do feel like i was on my best behavior a little bit, but i don't think i had a total front up, and it was still good. i still made weird faces and swore and acted like a geek, and we still managed to have a conversation. it was great to feel like i hadn't been making up everything about four formative years of my life, to feel a little less like an alien, to find commonality and humor, on both sides, in place of cold and tension. she's a fun girl, and still very different from me, but we had a kick-ass evening, and obviously appreciated one another, and i remember why, even back in school when my head was permanently lodged up my butt, i thought she was okay. she's neat, and she has an interesting life, and she didn't seem to mind telling me about it. yay.

maybe i am a boring normal gal after all.

on a related and strange note, she unwittingly fell in with a bunch of other people by saying that she used to find me really intimidating, which never fails to astound, befuddle, and sometimes amuse me. i guess i understand parts of it, but it will never seem quite right to me. i was a small saddish arty messed-up person, and kind of intense, but obviously just trudging along in quiet rebellion, not trying to take over the world or have any kind of personal power. but people were kinda scared of me. so weird. do i still do this? yes, i know i can be a jerk, but sincerely hope it's just when i'm actually trying.

shudder.

hi nicole, glad to see you, that was fun. and i am using the word fun here in a way that it isn't really up to, because i can't think of a word for what i mean. i mean that was unexpectedly good, and good in subtle ways that i would not have expected it to be, if i had expected it to be good.

by the way,

Thu, 26 Aug 2004 21:30:17 GMT

has anybody noticed that i have not once mentioned the impending Republican National Convention?

i'm in denial.

luckily, i don't have much cause to be in the neighborhood. i'm still entertaining fantasies of carrying rotten fruits and veggies on my commute to hurl at any obvious attendees.

and don't even talk to me about how disgusted i am that they are using this city, this locus, this nexus of the immediate and the historical, this thriving scarred place, this common spiritual and social battleground, as the launch of yet another campaign of exploitation, equivocation, and repression. way to co-opt the most staggering and terrific (in the original sense) common event in our recent national history for political gain.

thanks guys. thanks for claiming 9/11 for the Republican party, and for actively trying to deny me my identity as a patriot because i don't agree with you. to launch Bush's campaign from New York City bespeaks a lack of feeling, a lack of soul, and a lack of class on the part of everyone involved. he wasn't here. he was reading to kindergartners and contemplating his next ranch vacation. i was here. i gave blood. i helped post fliers. i smelled that smell every day for weeks, months. by holding the convention here, this year, very nearly on the anniversary of the hijackings, and expecting everyone to ignore the fact that nyc is not actually that great a place to hold a national party convention, they are claiming the space, our space, they are claiming the events of 9/11, claiming MY EXPERIENCES as fuel for their greedy, terror-stoked fire. they are claiming the things that my friends and i, and everyone who was here, went through as THEIRS. as evidence. as property. as ammunition. as somehow, despite every rational argument to the contrary, despite every horrifyingly exposed lie, proving that they are in the right. by extension, they are claiming every American's experience of that day as their own, and it turns my stomach. they are trampling and shitting and littering all over some very important psychic turf, and it pisses me off.

i want the department of homeland security to protect what is now my homeland. i want someone to level a multi-billion dollar fine on the Republican party for callous exploitation of noble sentiment, crassness, and flagrant lack of consideration for the thousands of people whose lives will be disrupted by the intrusion of the convention into an urban landscape already functioning near capacity.

so i haven't been writing about it too much. or talking about it too much. i'm not sure what to do. what should my t-shirt say?
"give me back my city"
"i'm a patriot, not a republican"
"honor."
too bad "bush is an exploitative asshat who wants you to think that the events of september eleventh should allow him to hamstring the bill of rights, obliterate the separation of church and state, play corporate vampire with the economy, and undermine years of progress in education, labor law, and foreign policy" won't fit on a shirt.
how about just "get out."

ahem. maturity.

Wed, 25 Aug 2004 23:11:17 GMT

i am going to do a nice, responsible-person, grown-up thing.

i am going to meet up with a girl from high school for a bite to eat tomorrow night. A cool girl, a nice, non-evil, well-adjusted girl who was never mean to me but who had the good sense not to really try to be friends with me back when i was even more of a pain in the rear than i am now. high school was pretty much torture for me, but that was mostly my fault, i'm sure, and, though i had no desire whatsoever to go to my five-year reunion, and duly skipped it, i am feeling sort of good about checking in with somebody who went through laurel at the same time i did, and came out healthy and whole and americannishly nice. she was one of the organizers for the reunion, and i had a sweet and clever and gratifying email exchange with her in the course of begging off attendance. she's bright and friendly, and i think it's a good idea to re-connect, to actively put behind me some of the nastiness about high school, to say hello, both as a sincerely interested comrade (i want to know that everybody's okay) and as a formerly super-nuts person checking in to say she's not quite so nuts as she was (just in case anybody wants to know if i'm okay - yes, i know they probably don't give a hoot).

it'll be nice to just put myself on the map with those high school people, even one of them: a sort of affirmation that i really am here and i really WAS THERE. i had those experiences, i was present. because i had so few friends at school, i sometimes find myself in the position of feeling like high school never really happened, since i don't talk to a single person who went through it with me. i had, and still have, a few truly amazing friends from that time period, but none of them went to school with me - they were mostly crazy boys whom i met through theater, or movies, or those twisty social connections that make sure all the very weird kids in cleveland heights know each other. so i don't have anyone to verify what school was like, what they were like, what i was like. my history, from 8am to 4pm, monday through friday, 1995 to 1999, does not exist. i think it's a good idea to check in with it.

i feel weird about it, and i have no idea what to wear, but i'm not dreading it. interesting.

other things having nothing to do with the passage of time, the mutability of personal identity, and the strange enduring softness of history: i got pedals for my bike (courtesy of my california cousin). i'm due for a haircut (and feeling especially hopeless on the visual front). my frame came in the mail (glorious, in a way that only certain things governed by 1980's color sense can be). i have a new favorite song (the quiet joys of brotherhood). my good buddy mr. reed lost his job for exactly no good reason (basically, one co-owner fired him to annoy the other co-owner) which makes me sad. i'm reading jane austen because i picked it up for free and got sucked in (odd - i don't love it but i can't seem to actually leave off reading it). my manager is still a dick but everybody else at the restaurant seems to love me, and i love them (fine by me). copyediting is still just copyediting (but my boss is still the bee's knees). benjones shot a rat with a pellet gun (!). my roommate sara made cookies (peanut butter ones - yum). matt and i are going to vermont for labor day weekend (hallelujah).

and (drum roll, please) I FUCKING CLEANED OUR FUCKING REFRIGERATOR SO HARD IT DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW WHAT HIT IT (excuse my language). yes, that was the big high point this past week or so - i cleaned a refrigerator. i am indeed pathetic. but you should know that it was previously a completely disgusting and frightening refrigerator and that it now gleams. an inner gleam. a gleam that says "every item currently sitting on my shelves or in my drawers or door has been removed and wiped down, and my every interior surface has been enthusiastically cleaned, if not to hospital standards, then as close to them as modern brooklyn domestic life will allow." it was very, very satisfying. like scab-picking, but healthy and useful.

that is all.

Mon, 16 Aug 2004 15:20:14 GMT

my brakes came today.

mighty machine-age beauty. worship worship worship.

oh! i got what is officially TEH BEST phone message EVAH from the band etc. at my mom's house in ohio. see, the band minus me went to play the rocky river contra dance in ohio (vocals being um, useless, for a dance band). sounds like they were a success and had a rocking good time. and they got to stay over and hang out in the morning and eat bacon and eggs with my folks. i am so jealous of everyone involved. however, my jealousy is wonderfully mitigated by the fact that they called me during the above mentioned lovely breakfast and passed the phone around and everybody said hi, even the ones who don't know me, and it was super cute. i lurve my friends. a lot.

and i'm lobbying for a trip to the brattleboro dawn dance, since i missed out on this latest trip and haven't been dancing in an age and a half. i think a long weekend in vermont sounds like a fabulous idea.

mr. reed gets back in town tonight, possibly having done some serious, long-anticipated, and much-needed life-wrecking while sojourning in california. or not. the full report promises to be torturous, awkward, assholic, and also mucho entertaining, just like mr. reed himself. i'm rooting for him.

my cousin heather is visiting. has been here the whole weekend. i haven't seen her in quite a while, and it has been really nice. we made enchiladas and drank beer, we sat around and yakked in the big squishy chair, we ate cake and ice-cream in the middle of the night, and i even put her on the phone with matt, and they probably haven't talked in, i don't know, six years? it's been a good weekend.

and i did a shitload of laundry.

tonight: work at schiller's, debriefing of mr. reed regarding california trip, further trolling of ebay for bike parts...

and

Fri, 13 Aug 2004 01:24:18 GMT

- Shimano crank with QBP track ring

- gunmetal Giro helmet

- need: wheels, tires, pedals, headset, bars, seatpost, seat, chain, krypto lock, brake cables...

- extra: wrap tape, multi-5, patch kit, pump...

granted, a bunch of this stuff (tape, tires, kit, seatpost, chain, cable...) will just be tagged onto ben's next big bike-supply order because it can be got on the cheap from B&J or one of those other big bike part supermarket jobbies. the frame ships today.

i'm hungry. i think i'm going to go eat a sandwich, lie on the couch, and get inextricably bound up in the new Thurday Next book. ta.

things, possibly of interest only to me.

Wed, 11 Aug 2004 21:46:53 GMT

a happy discovery: i made some enchilada sauce this winter, as christmas presents for two culinarily inclined friends (present = cool olive green glass bottle, with cork, and ribbon, full of homemade enchilada sauce, with (admittedly slightly vague) recipe attached. i make some fine enchilada sauce.) i had some left over. i put it in a bomb-proof tupperware thingy, put that in the freezer, and promptly forgot about it. i just found the sauce. and it's been frozen in our hyperactive freezer, which means it's fair game for eating, once it's thawed. also, it may have undergone that magic freezer process that makes soup and stuff like that better the second time around. i'm hoping. i think i get to make enchiladas tomorrow.

another one: my old friend tj is back in town, unassailably cool girlfriend in tow, and they are about to set up housekeeping, which means one of my oldest movie buddies is within emergency-late-show distance. in addition, an interesting acquaintance who might very possibly turn out to be a girl-who-is-lovely-rather-than-a-pain-in-the-rear has just moved to the city. massive potential.

yet another one: the publishing world strayed from its usual dull as dry toast modus operandi and coughed up at my feet an advance reader's copy of the forthcoming Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke. i read it. it's good. sort of a nerdy boring historical novel, except not quite so boring and not exactly historical. what it really is, and i hate to put this down in writing because i'm not what you would call a rabid fan of the cultish pseudo-literary pop-culture event storm and merchandising juggernaut in book form that i am about to mention, is Harry Potter for Grownups. there. i'm embarrassed. wait. allow me to amend. what it really is, bless its doorstop-weight heart, is Quicksilver Without the Pervasive Obnoxiousness. now, Susanna Clarke is English with a capital E, and, judging from the interview i read, is not going to be overthrowing any gross unfounded stereotypes about brits being faultlessly modest, more than a bit reserved, and probably highly adverse to loud, flapping, fawning adulation anytime soon. i know this, and i appreciate and admire it. it still would not stop me from, if this were at all practical or feasible, hand-delivering fan letters and chocolates, stammering unbecomingly on her doorstep, and probably winding up on the business end of a restraining order. ahhh. it was fun. i lay around on the couch for nigh on an entire weekend with my nose in an escapist's wet dream and didn't even feel too bad about it in the morning. i lurve to read.

a not so happy discovery: my dear mother called up and informed me that our super-wonderful cat is going blind. cataracts, pardon, that's a pun and i didn't realize until i typed it, and i didn't mean to joke. this makes me sad. i had forgotten that she is thirteen or fourteen years old now, at least partly because she is adorable and fuzzy and will never ever look old. now ma is all goopy and sentimental and spending lots of time playing with the kitty and cuddling her and making sure she is getting around the house alright, and i wish i could go do it too. sad.

...i have to get off this computer. and maybe get a life.

recent purchases

Tue, 10 Aug 2004 16:37:32 GMT

- some CDs. most notably the specials, shuggie otis, and television: doing my retro best to counteract the mushy but infectious hooks of the excessively emo/shoegazer mix that my roommate john just gave me.

- really nice second-hand faded black jeans.

- a monthly metrocard.

- pita bread, chocolate, zucchini, cheese, tomatoes, turmeric, etc.

- vintage (1980's) Titan (Italian) 18" steel road bike frame.

- Shimano 600 (Ultegra) dual-pivot brakes.

... can you tell that i am about to build a bike?

yes! i live with a crazy academic ex-bike-messenger, otherwise known as my dear uncle, ben, and he has agreed to give me a massive tutorial in cycle-mechanics by putting together a bike for me, to replace the one stolen at oberlin. i buy the parts (with guidance), and we both build it. i am super excited about this. it is expensive and time-consuming, but at the end of it i will have a truly kick-ass single-speed bike and a significantly greater understanding of bicycle gut, nuts, and bolts. this whole thing was prompted by my borrowing my roommate leejone's bike and having an AMAZING time riding it around brooklyn. i have never before been without a bike for so long, and i did not realize until then how much i missed it. i got all crazy and started yelling in the street - "this is the best bike ever! i want a bike, too!" (note: leejone does have a very fine bicycle.) so now i am in the throes of intense bike-craving. and frustrated by the fact that we are only in the parts-buying stage of the endeavor.

(self-loathing side note: i could have accomplished all of this much earlier, senior year at oberlin, in fact, if i had only possessed the brains, time, can-do spirit, and personal confidence to go hang out with the cute boys at the obie bike co-op. i was too intimidated. ah, hindsight. end self-loathing side note.)

the important thing is: i am going to get a bike!

the not-so-important things: work, rent, city, blah blah blah -- i'll write about that stuff tomorrow when i'm not so excessively stoked about the BIKE.

also: matt is away at augusta for two weeks, which is actually not that much farther away than usual, but it IS in the land of no cell phone service, so i can't call him, so of course right now is the time when i have an urge to ring him up and empty my head of all sorts of stupid folky stuff, and plans for fall, and amusing anecdotes about harebrained mutual friends. my internal clock is very, very, very not helpful.

small hand waving

Wed, 14 Jul 2004 20:38:12 GMT

i am not dead.

i just forgot how to use the computer.

or something.

i need to call and write to all you people. things have been continuing to happen. enola came to visit, tres briefly. the band had a gig. matt came to visit. i went to france for a week. i went to my family reunion in west virginia. i worked a bunch. i am currently working a bunch. as soon as i figure out how to talk and write coherently again, y'all are gonna wish i had just stayed shut up. heheh.

stupid, i have procured a t-shirt in what may be an appropriate size, so you can expect wearable jo-evil sometime soon. enolafay, if you send me a shirt that suits you it can be surprise-stenciled and you can have some jo-evil too. roger, you appear to have disappeared. there's a letter on the way. sheebs, i have cute comic goodness in the extreme for you. everybody else, stay tuned for further and hopefully slightly more relevant updates.

yeah. that's all. hi. just been in a bit of a grindy low slump. am forcing myself out of it. gradually getting back into take over the world mode. watch the hell out.

oog

Fri, 16 Apr 2004 20:54:37 GMT

sick day, sick day, i took a sick day.

yesterday. and it was very nice. except for being really sick. i resent having to use sick days for actual illness, but the current strain of creeping death that's going around (new york, work, my apartment, etc.) is no fun. awful sore throat, full-on aches and fever, coughing up stuff, gross. so i lazed. took a bunch of vitamin c. ventured out very late in the day for food and companionship. loafed around on my friends' floor and rattled off the occasional entertainingly delirious sick-person monologue.

still sub-par in most areas of person-hood, but at least now i have a reason. for the time being. maybe should have stayed home today too, (hack, hack) but that would not have been very kind to my very kind boss.

it is my housemate leejone's birthday today: everybody say happy birthday leejone. she's having a little dinner thing tonight. hopefully i will be more cheerful by then. i got her a bathroom cupboard. long story.
...

much later. minimized the window and forgot all about it.
hey look, it's friday, and i'm about to leave work, and go get my hairs cut, and do my best to think about art not just in terms of other people, and gather scraps of goodness and light from the winding down of the spring day. today i looked at the clock at 11:11, 2:22, and 4:44. this may be a good sign.

busy speedy day at work today. a big book going through on a crash schedule, so there was much pitching in and splitting up of jobs. also lots of blues (the very last stage of proof - right before the book gets printed. they usually have to go in and out in one day.) my voice is all scratchy and dark. and i left my winter hat on all day. i like being that little piece of potential-bag-lady among all the blown-dry and manicured hopefuls.

the trees are blooming here. i forgot that there are things that do that. i got used to everything being the same color. in fact, the first spring-white tree caused me to look twice, thinking it was snow. there is green grass in thompkins square park.

grey ghost

Wed, 14 Apr 2004 21:45:36 GMT

i have mike doughty in my head.
and that is a very good thing.
keeping me singing instead of grinding my teeth.
i said to t - one of the bartenders at the restaurant - "you scowl a lot." he said to me "you make that stone face a lot." wasn't really anywhere to go from there.

(yes, the same mike doughty who used to be the frontman for soul coughing. weird, i know. he's doing his own little singular thing now, and it's very nice. stripped down pop rock. same cool voice, less hoopla. performances usually consist of mike: singing, guitar-playing, wise-cracking, and the dove man: piano/organ guy - shaggy haired and shy to the point of being non-verbal, and a truly lovely musician. a great team. if mr. doughty ever passes through your town, go see him. and then spend the next three days unable to stop singing the choruses to his songs.)

feeling sickish. saddish. uglyish. unfit for human consumptionish.

i think i used to have magic powers, and i don't anymore.

i think the little isects in my head are listless, and i don't know what to feed them. this makes me sleepy and stupid.

i think i forget how to talk. how to write.

i forget the names of important ideas i've had - i am left thinking what was that about poetry i thought the other year, what was it, was it, where is that shopping list, it's time to buy laundry soap, what was it, something about poetry, time to buy laundry soap, oh it can't have been all that important.

i know that none of the things i do are important, really, but with the magic powers i could squeeze important things out of them. blood from a stone. or blood from a turnip. easy.

there's also something about beauty i was trying to remember. sometimes i find it hard to go out in the city, where every clerk at every bodega is judging a pageant of grand proportions. where windows get offended if your reflection isn't up to scratch. where the best one walks by every ten minutes. i am a great defender of ugliness, i am the quiet champion of small, of dusty, of littered, of dirty, of old, of not-quite-right. i like dumpsters, and broken sidewalks, and busted chainlink fences, but they keep getting metaphorically shined up, glossed and glamorized by folk who are not at all dusty themselves. quiet untended good dusty ugliness was mine, i thought. i live in a bashed up factory building. which i think suits me. perhaps i am wrong, because the other people in the building are not dusty, they are not ugly, they have pink shirts and straight teeth. it seems these ones are allowed to love ugly things. i am supposed to aspire. i am supposed to improve. i am supposed to work against imperfection and comfort with dishevelment. who is it that does not want me to be comfortable in my skin? i can't tell. i can't tell. i just hear it behind me, a smooth little fascist whisper. improve.

that's not what i was trying to remember about beauty. that's something else, something smaller, less important. the big important one about beauty i can't remember.

i'm going to go to dance class now, and try to sweat away some of this preoccupation, and the sore throat as well.

i have things in my head to give people, but i'm having trouble extracting them. as soon as they are accessible, i will distribute them. until then, hello, i'm still here. and i still need my hair cut, but i have an appointment on friday.
that's all.

"...in the grey grey ghost that i call home."
-m.d.

true

Thu, 08 Apr 2004 16:15:05 GMT

right now everything is about spies.

everything.

low-level espionage and racketeering

Thu, 08 Apr 2004 16:13:39 GMT

the former: last night's spy-themed lecture/reading at galapagos. good stuff. david guion on spy rock ("spy rock" now being my favorite compliment for anything with a martinis-and-dark-corners feel). patrick keefe on enduring creepiness of the Total Information Awareness project, and its downfall. peter kuper on subversive spy art, and on visual resistance to the debasement of democratic ideals. elizabeth spiers on the thwarted desire to become a spy. tasty fare, all, with the possible exception of spiers - hard to tell, because she's a lousy public speaker. we infiltrated the space at 7:30pm, eastern standard time. proceeded to stake out and take control of a strategically placed table at the back of the room. appropriated several unmonitored chairs from various regions. time check - 7:35. left a representative to look after our interests and maintain valuable table position. took a short trip down to the river by the recycling plant (previously reconned by agent stewart) as backup for the benjones. his mission: to throw his old mobile phone into the water some 3,000 mile from its original point of purchase, providing cleansing, closure, and an end to confusion in his wireless communications. he called the old phone from the new phone, listened to the digital squawk one last time, and threw. mission accomplished. looks like he's a new yorker. time check - 7:42. speedy return to base of operations at galapagos. re-entered the building without even flashing handstamps; we're getting good at this stuff. re-established position at table. settled in for an evening of sneaky entertainment, followed by free pizza. spies are cool.

the latter: benjones is opening a store. we think. beware.

related to the former: lecture marked yet another neat little venn diagram overlap of new york social interaction, because jesse j was also there - he from whom i acquired Smile, and then gave it to Patrick, who lives with benjones (although he unfortunately did not attend the spy event)... so, two Twin Peakes freaks met, and spies were discussed, and (wait, Agent Cooper is FBI, which is kind of like spies, and he loves pie, which is another name for pizza, and we all got free pizza, and i invited benjones in the first place because two people asked him if he was a spy, and jesse and i are connected through the nebulous web of oberliners, which is even more insidious than spies, and i was clad in mostly black and combat boots and was mistaken for a boy yesterday, and disguises are very spy-like; it's ALL CONNECTED.)

other things: rachel is officially back in town today, which i like. tap class tonight, probably. i need to buy gaff tape, and some more colors of fabric paint, and some vitamins. also need to get going on the communication front. bought a super-cool jacket for ten dollars. mike doughty is playing on saturday - i should hurry up and get a ticket. i'm still itchy. it's getting springish here - warm and grey and windy. a good combination. note: been feeling groggy and stupid. so, until this situation reverses itself, no alcohol, no sugar, and little dairy. i think my body just needs a shake up. a little kick start. too much sitting at desk at job. speaking of - gotta go.

Wed, 07 Apr 2004 21:46:47 GMT

readers' poll: white spy or black spy?

limbs

Wed, 07 Apr 2004 21:30:56 GMT

hi mark, wherever you are.

thought a lot about limbs, and fingers, and effectiveness, or lack of it, and weakness, and skill, or lack of it, and clarity, or lack of it.

i'm itchy.

and i'm trying to work up the confidence necessary to draw a comic - a task for which i am critically unprepared, and which i fear, and which makes me feel small and foolish. i feel i am wasting time. but i need to get ready.

things i have been doing that i am not so scared of: t-shirts, hate mail to microsoft, logistical wrangling of future band schedules (horrible - but will enable great fun and productive musical activity to happen), finishing Perdido Street Station, which is wonderful. perhaps not my favorite book, as the style is a little baroque for my taste - a very slight case of quantity over quality, a faint but recurrent hunch that the author is trying to crush the reader under a stinking deluge of florid modifiers - but nevertheless a good read, an adventure story, of sorts, with lovely and subtle bits of character work. it would be a good book to read in the summer, at night.

Smile is a great bunch of music. it makes me smile.

stupid sent me a care package, which thrills me beyond belief. watch out boyo - a t-shirt may be on the way.

my cousin heather is getting married in october, to one of the coolest guys ever, which is exactly right, and that also thrills me. a little strange to think of her in a wedding context, but sweet and important as well. the thing is basically going to be a big fat stewart party, an excuse to tell the heater we love her and to eat lots of food.

mattie-o coming to visit at the end of the month, yes, again, thrilling. i hope it's warmer by then. last time he was up the weather was miserable and i was really busy. this time looks to be much finer. parks. perhaps a good day of heedless wandering, some indian food, maybe a bookstore, a day of nice useless talking, less pressure, less rigor. got to walk him out on the weird peirs by the recycling center next to my building. it's quite a place to sit. provides an unparalleled sense of scale: the cement, the water, the trucks, the city just across the river.

had a cool crash on the floor night over at patrick's place - arguing and goofing and watching The Storyteller. so good.

tonight going to see Peter Kuper talk at a cool lecture series at galapagos. and maybe think about art and personal usefulness, or lack of it, some more.

smoother, more usefully designed thoughts will come, i promise. better things. itch, itch.

fill

Fri, 02 Apr 2004 23:26:42 GMT

so i haven't posted in a while. brain's been in a bit of a grey fog, and when i have emerged it has usually been to yap for hours with assorted new yorkers rather than to type ramblings into the computer. sorry.

ahem. saw the premiere of the new Jim McKay movie, Everyday People, and it was good, but i had the same problem with this one that i did with the previous (girlstown) - the pacing and feel and super-plain look are note-perfect, and then the dialogue falls completely flat. gr. did get to meet nelson george (albeit very briefly) because of it though.

bought Heavy Liquid, finally.

hung out with obies, listened to a new live recording of Smile with jesse j. so nice.

saw peanut, and caitlin, and ate indian food.

sent books off in the mail to people who need them. talking of books: started reading Perdido Street Station, on benjones' tip. seems pretty great, if a bit heavy on the adjective-soaked atmosphere. maybe it'll settle down as it goes along.

worked a bunch. read some bad books. did some revision on the text for the comic. i need to start writing again.

that is all.

Wed, 24 Mar 2004 21:42:12 GMT

readers' poll: sausage or bacon?

Wed, 24 Mar 2004 21:00:36 GMT

in other news, i still need a haircut. bad.