Fanfare:
Happy 4th of July friends, my absolute favorite holiday.
Moved Out:
Helped Haugheys move. Will miss them a lot. Very tired now.
A Mad Epistemographer:
My college buddy Josh, who is a lot smarter than me, has begun blogging. He’s a Ph.D. candidate in the History of Science and Technologies at Cornell and is doing his dissertation on the social history of the VCR and home video. And because of that, when we see each other, we have protracted conversations about stuff with obtuse important sounding names like “content flow” and “media physicality separation.”
No really, I’m exaggerating. I always remember our conversations for a long time afterward. it reminds me of how much I liked being in college and how I can best preserve the best part of that experience. The sutffy dorm rooms and the miasma of angst I’ll leave behind.
The Saturday that wasn’t there:
What a weird friggin’ weekend this was. After Suzan’s birthday on Friday, I climbed in bed around 1 and then promptly woke up at ten minutes past 12 the next morning. I must have needed the sleep but I haven’t done that since college.
Suzan and I made breakfast then watched the Everest:IMAX movie on DVD, which was narrated in that bombastic, science museum way by Liam Neeson but was otherwise pretty neat. Everest become a full blown industry now, which I’d like to learn more about someday. But we were late.
We arrived at The Haugheys for their going away barbeque, just about 3 hours late. I had a lamb kabob thanks to the culinary stylings of my friends Scott and Megan. Soon we were all deeply immersed in conversation and playing a heavenly MAME machine Matt installed in the corner of his living room. He’s basically rigged up a cheapie computer, a old arcade-style joystick and two days worth of downloaded games, every arcade game you could possibly think off.
We played them all, then talked, then laughed, then played some more. By the time Suzan said she was ready to go, it was past midnight.
We hadn’t had dinner yet and somehow (I have no idea why) ended up at an IHOP in Daly City. We ate then lamented that we were both zonked and would probably missed our friend Jane’s housewarming party. I hope she forgives us. It was late, we were tired, but I still felt impolite.
Sunday I rolled out of bed around nine, thought about taking a run or folding laundry or staring at the dust under our new couch. Then I realized I had to work. On Sunday. Probably all day. A publisher had expressed an interest in signing my book but requested a few changes to the proposal. My agent suggested I “take a stab at it” over the weekend. He’s a man of few words and generous understatement because, upon examination, I realized the proposal would have to be completely overhauled, like a house being razed to the ground and rebuilt, brick by careful brick.
That took me until almost 7 when, still in my pajamas, Susan suggested we get some Indian food. We got home at nine and after about 3.14 minutes folding laundry, I began to curl up with the warm socks and drift off.
By 10, I was in bed, having spent my weekend in two long strips, one working my ass off and the other doing the furthest thing from by yucking it up with friends and playing endless games of Mystic Marathon.
I was ready for Monday when it came.
More from Chicago:
Chicago is big. Like very big. If it were a baby, San Francisco could fit snuggly in the waistband of its diaper.
More theater last night. This time, we took in a production of Miyagi!, a musical adaptation of The Karate Kid done in a tiny little theater right by the L. Hilariously fun. And I’m a huge Karate Kid fan. Not ironically, not in an “oh isn’t that cute” sort-of-way. I love that movie. Pure of heart, devoid of snickering.
It’s, dare I say, the best around.
Chi-Town Summer:
Off to Chicago for the weekend. Happy Memorial Day everyone! I feel like I should be humming a song about Memorial Day but I don’t really know one. Do you?
You Made the Papehs!
So this morning I open up the New York Times to a story called “Dating a Blogger” (reg. required) and starring back at me is a Brooklyn blogger named Deirdre Clemente whom I went to college with and directed in a freshmen play.
I’d ordinarily think this was a wild bit of news, especially over a bowl of Grape Nuts at 9:15 on a Sunday. However, something is in the water I drank back then (or recently) because this is the forth person I know from blogging or before who has been mentioned in that paper of record.
Let’s review: My friend Maggie was quoted in some story about Gen X. fashions I’m assuming because she wrote a hilarious series about it for The Morning News. Buddy Josh Benton’s CD Mix of the Month Club got some prominant mention and a picture that probably scored JB a bunch of dates. Megan Morrone, who is aparently the object of lust of teenage geeks everywhere, is a producer on Tech TV’s The Screen Savers but in another life waited in the academic advising line with me at Johns Hopkins as another Writing Seminars major, searching for guidance.
One or two of these happenings and I think “how neat” and glow inside with smugness that I knew some soon-to-be-famous people. But three? Then four? That’s just freaky.
30.
Happy birthday, dude. I’ll be there soon
When the cat’s away…
Suzan left town for her Spring Beak this week (Austin, then Las Vegas to visit an old friend) so I rule the roost until Wednesday when I leave for New York. I’ve got a little work to finish up and prep for my trip but I’m thinking there will still be time for watching dumb T.V. and playing Xbox naked. Jish’s housewarming is Saturday night. I’m thinking I’m going to hafta have some dudes over here to get some masculine energy going on up in this piece.