Ugh; got home at 9:40 PM tonight.
The days in which I would write about politics in this thing are past. I feel like I've become a lot less sure about what to think -- not about what I think (abortions for all, tiny American flags for none), but about what the right way to convince people of it is, or even whether convincing them is feasible or, you know, just, or whether the issues are really as simple as I want them to be. This sounds like hedging, I know. But my approach to the problems of politics lately has been, well, you know, there are lots of smart people out there, maybe these things are actually kind of intractable.
One thing I will say, though, is that the cable news political shows have gotten basically unwatchable for me. Anderson Cooper and Wolf Blitzer especially have this infuriating schtick that they do where they wonder out loud whether some particular gaffe or strategem "has hurt [the candidate's] chances." "Gee, Wolf, do you think the voters will react poorly to Huckabee's decision to ban the sale of Tylenol south of the Mason-Dixon line?" I don't know guys, you tell me.
This morning when I stopped off at the deli on 40th and 4th, José was chopping up jalapeños at the counter while a big pile of beans was cooking in some foil on the grill. "What are you making?" I asked.
The Middle Eastern guy who runs the place (whose name I've never learned) was puttering around kind of agitated and wearing a scarf around his forehead. "It's called 'Arabian breakfast'," he said. "Jalapeños and beans. Arabian breakfast." He took the beans off the heat and scraped about half onto a styrofoam plate. "José, I'm taking my half. Yours is there. Ow, these are spicy!"
José chuckled. "He eats jalapeños and complains that they're spicy."
"You trying to kill me, man? I want to kill myself, I don't want you to kill me." A pause. "You want to know how I'm going to kill myself? José -- you want to know? Alcohol, man. I want to be high and drunk. I'm going to get high and drunk and then I'm going to kill myself."
"How's it going with [unintelligible]?" José asked.
"We broke up, man. No more boyfriend and girlfriend no more. Break-up."
Yikes!
Monday, January 21, 2008
Saturday, January 19, 2008
A Year Of Being Tired
Nina is moving into Randy's former room. I am excited but, you know, apprehensive. Can I say that in a place where she can read it? She knows. It's a stressful thing, moving -- I was sure wound up about moving in here, and I was ditching a junked-up money-sink of a place when I did that. She's leaving what's basically the best one-bedroom in the city, a palace, really, that's also notable in that its rent was as low as it was for so long. This new place, my place, that she's moving into... not so much. It's smaller, a bit noisier (this evening the neighbors have been alternating Mexican polka with Michael Jackson's greatest hits... with stomping), and the amenities are less... amenable. Tiny bathroom, less light, more stairs. But, you know, it's got two bedrooms. She's painting hers a combination of gray and green. So far only the gray is up, but it's very soft and pretty -- I anticipate it will be even moreso on summer afternoons.
To make her stuff fit, she's getting a bunk bed (unfortunately putting her closer to upstairs footfalls) and we've both ditched a bunch of stuff. Evan and some of his roommates came by yesterday to scavenge her 350-lb. TV and the ol' vibrating / adjustable bed -- which turned out not to fit in Evan's friend Richard's minivan. They had to call around craigslist for last minute movers and managed to obtain the services of a guy who was a dead ringer for the keyboard player from Spinal Tap -- and whom Evan described, having spent a van ride with him back to Williamsburg, as being completely batshit.
But yeah, it's stressful, and not happening at the best time: Her dad is sick, we're both working a lot -- she's going to school, too; me, I keep attending these meetings where they lay out the schedule for the rest of the year, and it doesn't involve long trips to the bathroom, much less vacation or workdays that end before eight thirty. But I think living with someone usually ends up okay. People make concessions, consciously and unconsciously, and company is almost always a joy. Fingers crossed. (It better work out, because we merged our Netflix queues.)
A bit of terrible news, though: Direct From Hollywood Cemetery, the band that opened, serendipitously, for Ted Leo the night Eve hooked Nina and me up -- and which was later discovered to feature one of her co-workers at SEED -- might be no more. Or at least so indicates their MySpace. I know this sounds a bit phony, but I'm serious about these guys being my favorite local band. I hadn't really had the experience before DFHC of looking forward, entirely without misgivings -- to regularly going to a show by a small-time bunch of dudes. Don't get me wrong -- when I bought Dickies tickets in high school and it turned out that The Toilet Boys or The LES Stitches were opening, you know, that was cool, but it's not like those guys were really worth seeing on their own merits -- you'd buy their album and it'd have the couple of good, catchy songs on it that you liked, but then there'd be like a dozen really so-so songs that'd make you go, "Oh, right, you're not that smart."
Anyway, I can't really blame the 'Cemetery: Their stage show must've taken hours to rehearse / perfect, not to mention how much money it undoubtedly took to keep the equipment and costumes in working order. So when the turnout wasn't ever that good, there's a definite cost / benefit deficit. Pearls before swine and that. But both the keyboard guy and the drummer assured me they were working on an album, so I hope that's still in the works.
More awful news: My two big March "events" -- the FSF associate members meeting and the Pogues show at Roseland -- are both on the same day! And the FSF thing is in a whole 'nother state. I can't cancel or exchange the Pogues tickets, and I sure as heck can't reschedule the meeting, so it looks like I'm doing both? The trip to / from Boston takes a while (I think I'll take the train this time, since, as I discovered during an obligatory training visit to DataSynapse North recently, it leaves you feeling a whole lot more human than the bus), but I can leave the FSF thing a bit early, and the Pogues probably won't be on 'til 10:00 or so anyway. I don't know. Maybe this is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.
Tonight I cooked eggplant curry in the new pot my parents got me -- first eggplant dish ever, since I am only recently of the mind that eggplant is anything other than kind of icky. I still think it is kind of icky, actually. I need to find a better recipe. The pot works great, though. Great heat distribution, a causa de "metal," yet things didn't seem to stick. We'll see how it goes tomorrow when I have to clean it.
Emma posted a remarkably cogent review of a remarkably scatterbrained movie we watched a few weeks ago. Read it here.
To make her stuff fit, she's getting a bunk bed (unfortunately putting her closer to upstairs footfalls) and we've both ditched a bunch of stuff. Evan and some of his roommates came by yesterday to scavenge her 350-lb. TV and the ol' vibrating / adjustable bed -- which turned out not to fit in Evan's friend Richard's minivan. They had to call around craigslist for last minute movers and managed to obtain the services of a guy who was a dead ringer for the keyboard player from Spinal Tap -- and whom Evan described, having spent a van ride with him back to Williamsburg, as being completely batshit.
But yeah, it's stressful, and not happening at the best time: Her dad is sick, we're both working a lot -- she's going to school, too; me, I keep attending these meetings where they lay out the schedule for the rest of the year, and it doesn't involve long trips to the bathroom, much less vacation or workdays that end before eight thirty. But I think living with someone usually ends up okay. People make concessions, consciously and unconsciously, and company is almost always a joy. Fingers crossed. (It better work out, because we merged our Netflix queues.)
A bit of terrible news, though: Direct From Hollywood Cemetery, the band that opened, serendipitously, for Ted Leo the night Eve hooked Nina and me up -- and which was later discovered to feature one of her co-workers at SEED -- might be no more. Or at least so indicates their MySpace. I know this sounds a bit phony, but I'm serious about these guys being my favorite local band. I hadn't really had the experience before DFHC of looking forward, entirely without misgivings -- to regularly going to a show by a small-time bunch of dudes. Don't get me wrong -- when I bought Dickies tickets in high school and it turned out that The Toilet Boys or The LES Stitches were opening, you know, that was cool, but it's not like those guys were really worth seeing on their own merits -- you'd buy their album and it'd have the couple of good, catchy songs on it that you liked, but then there'd be like a dozen really so-so songs that'd make you go, "Oh, right, you're not that smart."
Anyway, I can't really blame the 'Cemetery: Their stage show must've taken hours to rehearse / perfect, not to mention how much money it undoubtedly took to keep the equipment and costumes in working order. So when the turnout wasn't ever that good, there's a definite cost / benefit deficit. Pearls before swine and that. But both the keyboard guy and the drummer assured me they were working on an album, so I hope that's still in the works.
More awful news: My two big March "events" -- the FSF associate members meeting and the Pogues show at Roseland -- are both on the same day! And the FSF thing is in a whole 'nother state. I can't cancel or exchange the Pogues tickets, and I sure as heck can't reschedule the meeting, so it looks like I'm doing both? The trip to / from Boston takes a while (I think I'll take the train this time, since, as I discovered during an obligatory training visit to DataSynapse North recently, it leaves you feeling a whole lot more human than the bus), but I can leave the FSF thing a bit early, and the Pogues probably won't be on 'til 10:00 or so anyway. I don't know. Maybe this is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.
Tonight I cooked eggplant curry in the new pot my parents got me -- first eggplant dish ever, since I am only recently of the mind that eggplant is anything other than kind of icky. I still think it is kind of icky, actually. I need to find a better recipe. The pot works great, though. Great heat distribution, a causa de "metal," yet things didn't seem to stick. We'll see how it goes tomorrow when I have to clean it.
Emma posted a remarkably cogent review of a remarkably scatterbrained movie we watched a few weeks ago. Read it here.
Friday, January 04, 2008
The Shock of the New
Randy finished moving out a couple of weeks ago. The apartment is strangely clean and empty. Last night Winnie and Evan came over and played Scrabble and cooked this custom pizza for Randy with goat cheese and chorizo. We ended up opening some champagne that Eve'd gotten me a few weeks ago and we had quite a time. Randy has bequeathed me a number of... gifts, including two toy cars and a kind of attack-of-the-tripods thing that has a Pope inside it. Sorry, I really can't be more articulate than that.
And then it was Christmas. I had kind of a hard time with the holidays; I don't know why. This is not, in general, my favorite time of year -- even if you reject the idea of buying everybody presents, they don't necessarily reject the idea along with you, and then there are, you know, consequences. Plus, I felt like the whole holiday had kind of snuck up on me, given the way my work schedule had turned out: Work work work work Christmas. So I hadn't bought anything for anyone, basically, and felt anxious and awful about it. And I had to spend the whole day with my parents and their friends. To mitigate things, I woke up early on Christmas morning to bake a pie before heading over, and that turned out pretty okay, although I spilled several quickly-carbonizing dollops of pumpkin crap all over the floor and oven door.
After the day itself, I recovered, to the extent that I have even been able to buy things for a few people. Tom et al. threw a nice, cozy New Year's party, and Colleen followed it up the next day with a delightful all-day brunch. Is everyone turning thirty right now or what? My friend Julia just got married; my friend Razor is going to get married -- he told me the date and everything.
Me, I'm watching a TV show on Korean basic cable called "Comedy Show Hey Hey Hey!" Maybe you've heard of it.
Emma and I have been watching some movies recently, baseball-related:
Later Eve and I went to go the Sweeney Todd movie, which was boss. She's in India now, for a month. Good luck, Eve!
Good luck to all of you!
Obamania 2008!
And then it was Christmas. I had kind of a hard time with the holidays; I don't know why. This is not, in general, my favorite time of year -- even if you reject the idea of buying everybody presents, they don't necessarily reject the idea along with you, and then there are, you know, consequences. Plus, I felt like the whole holiday had kind of snuck up on me, given the way my work schedule had turned out: Work work work work Christmas. So I hadn't bought anything for anyone, basically, and felt anxious and awful about it. And I had to spend the whole day with my parents and their friends. To mitigate things, I woke up early on Christmas morning to bake a pie before heading over, and that turned out pretty okay, although I spilled several quickly-carbonizing dollops of pumpkin crap all over the floor and oven door.
After the day itself, I recovered, to the extent that I have even been able to buy things for a few people. Tom et al. threw a nice, cozy New Year's party, and Colleen followed it up the next day with a delightful all-day brunch. Is everyone turning thirty right now or what? My friend Julia just got married; my friend Razor is going to get married -- he told me the date and everything.
Me, I'm watching a TV show on Korean basic cable called "Comedy Show Hey Hey Hey!" Maybe you've heard of it.
Emma and I have been watching some movies recently, baseball-related:
- Rhubarb: The Cat Who Loved To Play And Watch Baseball
- Safe at Home!, which is about the worst little boy in the world
Later Eve and I went to go the Sweeney Todd movie, which was boss. She's in India now, for a month. Good luck, Eve!
Good luck to all of you!
Obamania 2008!
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