Iʻm going to Flagstaff, Arizona instead. Continue reading Why Iʻm not going to tea practice tomorrow
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I ended 2009–the year of my emotionally devastating return from Japan, subsequent wandering in the (literal and figurative) wilderness, and final settling in an unexpectedly wonderful job and housing situation–with a Duraflame fire and a box of frozen ranch-flavored chicken fingers. In the company of my girlfriend, Jillian. Continue reading So this is the new year One year ago: the flea market at Kitano temple, concluding with a brief surprise hailstorm; gorging at the all-you-can-eat pizza and curry lunch buffet at Shakey’s; Wall*E with Japanese subtitles. Because I was in Kyoto, remember. Continue reading Christmas 2009 This and that: I worked about 50 hours last week. This is not impressive by the standards of some. It is mighty impressive by standards of mine. Continue reading Still here, I am
Am I the only one who finds it odd that anyone still stops by here from day to day? That Google Analytics-proven fact generates a small buzz of daily guilt in the back of my head. It would be a bigger buzz, I suppose, except that I know that my failure to post new content here hasn’t been a function of laziness; I’m not filling idle hours with non-writing activities. I’ve simply had no idle hours. Continue reading Expenditures of time and money
I ate at this Echo Park joint on Monday night before the Fanfarlo show. Though lightly hipsterized in recent years (on account of having become a favorite with hipsters), Alexander’s Brite Spot is the real deal: a well-preserved mid-century diner, a piece of older LA. It has its own label on the Google map of the city, actually. When navigating my way to Echo for the show, I saw the name and saw, in its spelling, a lot of potential. I was happy not to be disappointed by the corresponding brick-and-mortar reality. The seats in the booths were red and sparkly. The waitress appeared to have been original to the restaurant. The food was plentiful. And a good rock show followed. It was appropriate that on the day I found out for sure that I’ll be able to stay in my present accommodations long-term (graduating from the couch in the living room to a room of my own in January, when one of the current housemates moves out), I received the first piece of mail addressed to me here. It was more appropriate yet that the mail in question was a box containing six bottles of beer. The beer in question was from the batch I helped my fine friend S. brew the last time I visited him in Seattle. It managed not to leak out of the bottles into the box, as happened with the last such shipment of beer that was dispatched to me while in Alaska. Tomorrow the beer will be cold. And tomorrow the beer will be consumed. A couple of just-post-sunset shots from the corner at which I catch my bus home from work. If I had snapped the first a few seconds earlier, it would have shown also the tail of a taxiing jet; this is the edge of Bob Hope Airport. The second photo captures well, I think, the melancholy of dusk light in LA, the way that sky and buildings and the mountains beyond lose some of their substance as the streetlights come on and the colors desaturate.
No, I haven’t written anything in a long while–not here, not anywhere. A lot has happened between my last update and now, and any amount of it was well worth writing about, but I’m afraid that I’ll have to just have to give it all a miss this time, and start fresh. There could hardly be a better point for a fresh start. Continue reading Episode IV My current theory is that the information flowing through the tubes that make up the Internet can be boiled off into vapor, never to reach its destination, if the weather is hot enough. Continue reading Lamentations and excuses |
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