Thursday, July 28, 2005

When it rains... floods, because in Houston we've paved paradise and, miracle of miracles, water soaks into asphalt and concrete VERY slowly, instead preferring to flow downhill to whatever freeway happens to be under construction at the time. But I digress...
How sad that the secret message is more fun than the real entry.
It isn't raining in the literal sense, I've got another interview at a different company! Those of you crossing things are encouraged to continue doing so. In the meantime, I'll be downloading all the GWAR I can get my hands on. This stuff is great!

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Round One

That's "Round, the First" not "One who is Round"...
She complains a lot about the guys she's dated/dating.
I met with a recruiter today. The first time anyone has called me in for an interview in well over 6 months, probably closer to 10. I'm somewhat sympathetic to recruiters and HR personnel, given that the job market has been pretty soft and they surely get many many applicants, qualified and otherwise. What I'm not sympathetic to is being in the 'people business' but lacking people skills. "Do not reply to this email." There is absolutely no reason to be so hostile to someone who wants you to make money off of me. "Due to the number of applicants, we cannot respond to each and every one." Right, because email is a complex, expensive, and tedious technology and you get a small electric shock from your chair every time you send one out. From my perspective, you lack compassion.
I admit, it makes me want to ask her out. To prove her wrong.
But someone took pity on me and called me in for a meet & greet, skills assessment, and paperwork rodeo (Yee-HA!). I thoroughly embarassed myself on the skills assessment part, because it's been over 2 years since I've touched a server, I've never had any formal training in administration, and I don't really want to be an administrator anymore anyway. Look around your company- Does your system administrator have an MBA? No, he's a goateed troll with Mountain Dew in an IV-drip. His boss probably has an MBA. Anyone see a pattern here? But she can get me either a permanent or contract-to-permanent position as an admin in the vicinity of my price range, if not more. It would be nice to have money to spend on hookers and blow again...
I can't. You already know the reason why: Money.
Over the past 2 years I've turned down jobs, refusing to work, because I know I would hate it. I'm too old to "have a job" - I want a career and I want to love it. Shut up, it's not too much to ask. My heart isn't in IT anymore, and despite my natural aptitude for it I've earned the right not to hate getting up in the morning, dreading going to work. And I don't want to do the job poorly either because I don't care.
Not to mention she's WAY out of my league.
The real joy of my day was getting to drive from the Galleria to The Woodlands, then back during rush hour traffic. This doesn't mean much to the non-Houstonians, but it's 70 miles (112 km) roundtrip through Dantés Inferno. Seriously, Houston is layed out exactly like Hell. If you go to Mapquest and type in 'Houston, TX' you'll see the concentric circles and everything. Without Virgil to guide me through the wasteland I just tucked into the draft behind a big rig and slowly drifted off towards Enlightenment. [Ed. note: actually, that was the diesel fumes]
Don't worry, it's just a crush. It'll pass. Right, Z?
I had a pretty good workout this evening. My foot appears to be back to normal, so I sweated through a brisk walk in the nighttime heat. Crunches and lunges and curls, oh my.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

About puddin

I got out of class early this evening, in that most excellent but fleeting time between sunset and darkness. Twilight. Dusk, even. Since getting out of class early was a treat, I figured I'd go for the whole "treat" experience. I stopped at the convenience store for snax, put the top down and drove to the park.
Normally I can't keep a secret,
So if you were jogging through Memorial park this evening and saw some guy slouched down in a convertible eating cheese popcorn [Ed. note: cheese-flavored], that was me. Didn't mean to startle you. I was licking my fingers because of the cheese [cheese-flavor]. For the record, I was fully clothed.
but I've managed not to tell anyone about this.
After dinner I came home to read the blogs & chat, as it is my way, and I decided I needed some puddin. I mentioned this to whomever I was chatting with (seriously, I don't recall who, there's so many) and she said "You made puddin?"
If you were wondering: chocolate puddin.
Is that not the funniest thing you've ever heard? Make puddin? You can't make puddin! I swear I laughed so hard puddin came out my nose. At least I think it was puddin...

Monday, July 25, 2005

A challenge

I defy you not to giggle if you make a little *toot* while doing crunches.

Basic crunch

Seriously? Nobody found the secret? Wow.

No other news to report at this time.

Sunday, July 24, 2005

True, thrilling, titillating tales

Another weekend so exciting this blog should be rated NC-17...
"I don't wanna wait in vain for your love"
I finally saw "Star Wars 3: Revenge of the Sith." I thought it was better than the last two, mostly because we're finally done with Christensen's brooding adolescence. I've read complaints about his final "Nooo!" but it really wasn't any worse than Hamill's "Nooo!" in Empire. It's a comic book of a movie. Glad I finally saw it, but more glad I wasn't the one paying for it.
That's from a song entitled "Waiting in Vain."
I also saw "Seeing Other People" starring Jay Mohr and Julianne Nicholson, a funny little film about a couple about to be married. The bride-to-be decides she hasn't been with enough men, so she convinces the groom-to-be that they should sleep with other people until they get married. Hijinx ensue. Also stars Lauren Graham, Bryan Cranston, Josh Charles, and Andy Richter. Worth seeing, if you can find it.
Originally written by Bob Marley, Annie Lennox covered it a few years ago.
Saturday was birthday party #2 for nephew #2. Trucks & play tools, runny noses, screaming, and hitting were the order of the day. Still, I managed to have a good time in the vicinity of my family. Followed by watching "Mr & Mrs Smith" which was also fun. I don't care if Brad & Angelina are an item or not, she's delicious.
You can hear Annie's version on the "Serendipity" soundtrack.
Sunday was the typical sleep late/do nothing day. Grocery shopping. Yeah, I bore me too.
Anyway, it just seemed to fit the way I've felt over the last few days.
I received a couple of "advance copy" music albums this week. I shouldn't mention the names, but they're something like 'Hooter and the Pufferfish' and 'Jay Mroz'. The former is wholly uninteresting- If you're already a fan you'll like it, because it's completely unevolved from their previous albums; If you're not a fan, you're unlikely to become one after hearing this album. The latter is much better, also assuming you like that kind of music: It's much more varied stylistically, both from his previous albums and also from track to track, but it's not schizophrenic in that regard. I'd say there are three tracks possibly destined for mainstream airplay.
I'd like to know if you've found the secret message, but don't let on.
Oh yes, Inanna's comment reminds me that "The Last Samurai" that I'm reading is the REAL story, which the Tom Cruise movie from 2003 (which was entertaining as fiction) completely butchered. The Hollywood screenwriters so distorted reality that they had to change the name of the last samurai character because the real man is still a beloved historical figure. Suffice it to say, there weren't any drunk US civil war heroes in 19th century Japan learning bushido in remote mountain villages. If you're interested in reading about actual Japanese history, I'll provide a bibliography when I'm done with the book.

Thursday, July 21, 2005


The office here is a mess. One of the interns spilled coffee all over the absentee mail-in ballots in the 'next book to read' poll, turning the whole pile into a dark sticky mess. The auditors from [Ed. note: Name withheld per contract terms] invalidated the entire lot, and since no one voted online before the deadline I've had to decide for myself. I'm reading "The Last Samurai". Since two of the three books were on the theme of Japan and I don't want to read two in a row it came down to this or "Learning to Bow". But seeing as I'm already 20% into it, the die was cast.

Note to self: Do not watch "Hooking up". Do not TiVo it. Do not tape it.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

My first test

My first test as a reformed, non-materialistic, atypical Westerner came in my mailbox today. Right up front I'll tell you that I did not subscribe to this nor request a sample issue. I don't subscribe to any other magazines, so unless everyone on my block got one (or more likely everyone at school, thanks for selling my address AND increasing fees UH) it was some sort of karmic test designed to see how serious I am about becoming a better man...

Front cover. Click to enlarge.As far as I can tell, this is the front cover. My doubt will become apparent to you in a minute, but first things first. I've obscured the title of this masterpiece of journalism because although this was a free copy, they're not paying me to endorse this tripe. You can see a higher-resolution photo by clicking on the picture, but here's the highlights:
-The tag-line above the title: "The original buyer's guide for men."
-"Carmelo Anthony: 21 years old, $40 million in the palm of his hand"
-"Envy! The amazing chronicles of a strip club DJ"
-"437 ways to spiral into massive debt. All Exlusive! Exotic pets, sweet rides, malt liquor"
-"Sinsational! Jessica Alba gives it up"
-"Juiced Up. Meet the hustlers, dealmakers and sneaker pimps who buy, sell and make what you love"

Spine, for lack of a better word.

The spine (should you lack one) and my only clue as to which side goes up:
"Buy. Collect. Obsess."

Back cover. Click to enlarge.The back cover. Granted, it doesn't really matter which is the front and which is the back, but there's a table of contents inside BOTH covers and it's right-side up no matter which way you grab it. In the middle of the mag is a page that tells you you've reached the end of Part I (or Part II) and you need to flip the mag over and start again. Didn't MAD Magazine used to do this stuff? Well, it's aimed at about the same reading level. As you can see, the articles listed on the back are almost the same as the front, plus...
-"Reform school pinups"
-4 more ways to spiral into massive debt: "Fast cars, cheap thrills, fine wine, rich girls"

Ok, now I've had some pretty easy tests before. Let's face it, Grad school isn't the toughest thing you'll ever do (should you choose to) and UH, well... But this is an open-book test where they give you the answers and all you have to do is sign your name to it. The magazine is 96 pages in one direction and 84 pages in the other, but I'm really just taking their word for it. I've never understood magazine-page-numbering math, and I was only 3 hours short of a minor in mathematics. It's mostly ads featuring fantastically beautiful but empty people interspersed with valuable self-help information like mastering Texas Hold 'em Poker and styling tips for celebrity look-alikes (I kid you not). I'd put this magazine in the bathroom, but I'm afraid that would just get it dirty (the bathroom, obviously).

And in case you're wondering who created this user's guide to the seven deadly sins, you can thank Marc Eckō, whose ghetto fabulous clothes can be seen on both the runway and "Cops".

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

On Romance and Suffering

After being questioned about the idea of deeply falling in romantic love with one's partner...
Without hesitation, the Dalai Lama said, "I think that, leaving aside how the endless pursuit of romantic love may affect our deeper spiritual growth, even from the perspective of a conventional way of life, the idealization of this romantic love can be seen as an extreme. Unlike those relationships based on caring and genuine affection, this is another matter. It cannot be seen as a positive thing," he said decisively. "It's something that is based on fantasy, unattainable, and therefore may be a source of frustration. So, on that basis it cannot be seen as a positive thing."
p. 104

As Western society gained the ability to limit the suffering caused by harsh living conditions, it seems to have lost the ability to cope with the suffering that remains. Studies by social scientists have emphasized that most people in modern Western society tend to go through life believing that the world is basically a nice place in which to live, that life is mostly fair, and that they are good people who deserve to have good things happen to them. These beliefs can play an important role in leading a happier and healthier life. But the inevitable arising of suffering undermines these beliefs and can make it difficult to go on living happily and effectively.
This kind of thinking poses hidden dangers. If we think of suffering as something unnatural, something that we shouldn't be experiencing, then it's not much of a leap to begin to look for someone to blame for our suffering. If I'm unhappy, then I must be the "victim" of someone or something- an idea that's all too common in the West. The victimizer might be the government, the educational system, abusive parents, a "dysfunctional family," the other gender, or our uncaring mate. Or we may turn blame inward: there's something wrong with me, I'm the victim of disease, of defective genes perhaps. But the risk of continuing to focus on assigning blame and maintaining a victim stance, is the perpetuation of our suffering- with persistent feelings of anger, frustration, and resentment.

p. 147
And the note I wrote to myself that evening reads, in part, "Finding meaning in suffering- I am learning to do without many of the things I want: Love, money, material things. It used to come easy to me, and I always wanted 'more'. I was greedy, lustful, vain, gluttonous, lazy, angry, and jealous. Now I have nothing and am doing without. My suffering is not punishment. My suffering is antidote."

Please vote on the next book I read:
The Last SamuraiMolvaniaLearning to Bow
The Last Samurai: The Life and Battles of Saigo Takamori, by Mark RavinaMolvania: A land untouched by modern dentistry, a jetlag travel guide by Santo Cilauro et al.Learning to Bow: Inside the Heart of Japan, by Bruce Feiler

Note: Voting will end at midnight July 19th.

Monday, July 18, 2005

Book Review

The Art of HappinessThe Art of Happiness - By His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Howard Cutler, M.D.

A bit of background refresher about me- I was brought up in a fairly traditional Catholic household, which meant Mass on Sunday and that's about it. We never discussed religion, philosophy, or spirituality as a family and although differing viewpoints were never dismissed as invalid, they weren't discussed either. I don't know where the idea came from but I grew up thinking Buddhism, outside of Eastern Asia, was New Age hooey. With age has come a bit (just a bit) of wisdom and respect for other ideas, even if I don't subscribe to them. Over the past couple of years I've begun to think that maybe religion isn't for me, though I think I'd like to maintain some semblance of spirituality, perhaps adopting some Buddhist, Islamic (and other) philosophies. Jumping ahead to the end of this book, the Dalai Lama explains that this is a perfectly natural and acceptable feeling for some people, those who just don't feel like they can completely subscribe to one official doctrine or another. 5 Billion people on the planet are never going to agree on one thing.

That said, this is the first philosophy book I've ever read. It isn't about Buddhism, it's literally about happiness. But just because it isn't about that particular religion doesn't mean that there isn't a lot of that subject covered. The key things to take away from this book are the Dalai Lama's thoughts on compassion and suffering, understanding what each really means and methods for using each for the gain of yourself and those around you (i.e. the world at large). For most of us, this is the journey, not the destination. The book is co-authored with a Western psychiatrist and is loosely written in the style of a dialog between the author and the Dalai Lama, based on meetings both personal and public. In the user comments at Amazon, you will see some criticism of Dr. Cutler's opinion and writing on the subjects, as if they somehow dilute the importance or meanings. On the contrary, I think it's helpful to have the insights of a non-Buddhist, sometimes comparing and contrasting the Dalai Lama's teachings to traditional Western philosophy (which many of us are familiar with thanks to PHIL 101 being part of the required curriculum at many universities). Other times, Dr. Cutler's remarks help to translate the various twists and turns His Holiness takes on the path to proving his point. It's not the most difficult book I've ever read, and while I found much of it thought-provoking, I'm not quite ready to shave my head and chant. I will probably read more about Eastern philosophy in the future, but it's probably best to let this sit for a while. It may also be worth pointing out, I didn't find anything in this book that even the most devout Christian/Jew/Muslim/whatever would find contradicts his or her beliefs (and yet some criticize Harry Potter).

Tomorrow I will probably write about some of the thoughts on suffering and romance (but not suffering romance) from the book and a bit of the things it encouraged me to think about. Also tomorrow, vote on the next book I will read. Tonight I'll leave you with a bit about hatred, something I'm far too quick to give in to (and if you had to drive the Southwest Freeway at rush hour, you would too!):
So, for a spiritual practitioner, one's enemies play a crucial role. As I see it, compassion is the essence of a spiritual life. And in order for you to become fully successful in practicing love and compassion, the practice of patience and tolerance is indispensable. There is no fortitude similar to patience, just as there is no affliction worse than hatred. Therefore, one must exert one's best efforts not to harbor hatred towards the enemy, but rather use the encounter as an opportunity to enhance one's practice of patience and tolerance.

In fact, the enemy is the necessary condition for practicing patience. Without an enemy's action, there is no possibility for patience or tolerance to arise. Our friends do not ordinarily test us and provide the opportunity to cultivate patience; only our enemies do this. So, from this standpoint we can consider our enemy as a great teacher, and revere them for giving us this precious opportunity to practice patience.

The Art of Happiness, p. 178

Sunday, July 17, 2005


On having people in your life-
It's too easy to restrict people from your life, or to kick them out. It's far too hard to add people to your life. Imagine if you could just walk up to someone and say, "I like the look of you. I want you in my life." First off, to Scarlett Johansson: "Call me." As for the other, "Come by on your way home from work. I've cleaned house and you can decompress here. Yes, I bought fresh flowers. Kick off your shoes, I know they ache from being crammed in those cute little heels all day. I'll give your feet a quick rub as you sip a glass (just one) of wine while dinner simmers. Something stronger than wine? If you need it, but I give good foot so I doubt you will. Watch the news or, if it's too depressing, just put on some music. For the moment, it doesn't matter what I like- It would make me happy if you find something you like. We can talk through dinner but we don't have to. I won't sit there imagining you're thinking of being with someone else. Yes, I used to. A piece of dark chocolate (just one) and green tea after dinner. Leave the dishes- I'll clean up later. I have nothing else to do when you go. I may dim the lights a bit and long for you to lean in (assuming I didn't use too much garlic, like I usually do), but I'll kick you out in time to get a good night's sleep before doing it all again tomorrow. Please blow out the candles. Sorry, the flowers stay here."

But you just can't say that to a complete stranger. It just isn't done. You don't spread that kind of fantasy out on the table, like the brochure for some all-inclusive, ten-thousand-a-night resort, and expect someone to buy it sight-unseen. It isn't believable, it isn't worth ten-thousand-a-night, and it just isn't done. You're supposed to start small, on neutral territory, non-threatening. By the time you get around to the dream it's a different dream. Yes, it might be better than the original, but that's not the point. The point is that there's no shortcut and it just isn't done.

Instead he walks into the grocery store with his head bowed, hoping to avoid being seen by no one in particular. "I have nothing to offer you," he whispers to himself. It's a mantra he's developed over the last few years (yes, years). It's concise and tidy. It's not as self-defeating as "she wouldn't be interested in me anyway." Inaudibly whispering "I have nothing to offer you" to the woman touching every single one of the tomatoes instantly reminds- All she's thinking about is tomatoes, she doesn't want to be hit on. Whispered again to the girl who just cut in line at the deli counter. He can tell by her language, body and verbal, that she has her own fantasy and never considered that his even exists. "I have nothing to offer you. And it's your loss."

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Monday, July 11, 2005


It was a bad day for blogging. Fewer than half of you wrote anything, one of you removed a post in the evening that had been there in the afternoon, and one of you gave up writing altogether. I don't know what else to say- Your mother and I are very disappointed in you.

I've gotten caught up on all the programs I've taped over the last few weeks. Back episodes of The Comeback which just isn't funny (unless you think pathetic is funny, which some of you obviously do since you laugh at me) and Spy which is a fun BBC reality show with such lovely accents. They let the guy from Northern Ireland go, which is a shame because he had an awesome brogue. The cute little Glaswegian is still in it though. Yay! Also caught a show on Discovery HD Theater (HDTV-only Discovery Channel) entitled Fantastic Festivals of the World. This episode was the World Buskers Festival from Christchurch, New Zealand (Hi Theic!) and featured some of the most beautiful landscapes you've ever seen (assuming you slept through Lord of the Rings, as I did). I shed a few tiny tears for living here instead of there, but nothing like the hot, salty tears from the episode featuring Hong Kong's Lantern Festival.

As soon as I mention how regular my exercise has been, I get hobbled by an injury. I don't know what I did, but the arch of my foot has been killing me nonstop for over a week now. I'm thinking Plantar Fasciitis, since I can definitely feel it whenever I pronate or supinate my step, but it's not really my heel that hurts. It feels a bit like a charley horse in the middle of my foot. Not pleasant. I walked about 2.5 miles friday night and barely made it home. 2 miles tonight and, although I'm not limping anymore, its got quite a bit more healing to do. Going down the stairs is torture. I'm just thankful it's my left, as I masturbate with the right.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Book Review

[Ed. Note: This is boring. Skip it. Don't say we didn't warn you.]

Both Sides of the MoonBoth Sides of the Moon - by David Scott & Alexei Leonov

The latest astrobiography to hit my shelves is that of two people doing the same thing at the same time, from different parts of the world. Dave Scott joined NASA as part of the 3rd group of astronauts, while Alexei Leonov was one of the first Soviet cosmonauts to join their program. Both Sides of the Moon tells the stories of their lives, training for missions to go to the moon. Leonov was the first man to perform a spacewalk outside his spacecraft but, due to politics and program failures, did not fly again until the Apollo-Soyuz mission in 1975. Dave Scott flew with Neil Armstrong on Gemini 8, piloted Apollo 9, and commanded Apollo 15, walking on the moon. The story flips back and forth between the American and Soviet perspectives, maintaining a more or less consistent timeline. It is definitely unique, to read a chapter about one side, then read the following chapter about the other's reaction to the previous event.

Unfortunately there's nothing in the American side of the story that hasn't already been told. The personal details of Scott's life are few and far between, so the reader doesn't grow too attached to him. The story of the Soviet race to the moon has been better documented elsewhere, but the personal details of Leonov's life are the real gem of this book. Leonov recounts his childhood as well as personal stories of Korolev and Gagarin, bringing them to life like no other author to date. Interestingly, Leonov pulls no punches in his criticism of the Soviet program, its leaders, and the pervasive secrecy of the era.

If you're a fan of spaceflight history, read the book for the Leonov side of the moon. The American side has been better told in Wolfe's The Right Stuff, Chaikin's A Man on the Moon, and Collins' Carrying the Fire. Suggested reading for more on the Soviet program includes Harford's Korolev, Oberg's Red Star in Orbit, and Lebedev's Diary of a Cosmonaut.

The Art of HappinessNow Reading: The Art of Happiness

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Short takes

Terrible, cowardly thing. As Alison pointed out, Houston's Metro Transit Authority has assured us that both people riding the Killer Death Train™ are safe. I think our government should make up some scary sounding (but fake) extremist organization to take credit for bombings. That way nobody will think El Queso is any good and nobody will want to join them. Meanwhile, we keep looking for the real bombers who have to try harder to claim credit for stuff and eventually get lazy and get caught. Plus, when people try to join our fake terrorist club, ninjas pop out of the bushes and kill them.

Second session has started up. I'm taking Information Systems which is cool because I know a lot about IT, but it sucks because I can't stand IT anymore. The cute, engaged girl from the first session is in this class too, but otherwise no diggable chix. Guess I'll keep having to surf the online personals. (Ed. note: Link to Katey Bear's personal ad removed due to excessive bandwidth.) GAH! I only have 5 more classes in the MBA program in which to meet women!

I just learnt about this new website, GahooYoogle.Com. Search the web twice as fast! Also note, you can grab the center divider and drag it left & right. Make sure to bookmark it, because that sucks to type.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Hooch is NOT a bitch

Hehe, I promised her I'd title tonight's misery in her honour ... actually there's not much misery tonight, sorry dear. (aside: The day ain't over yet)

My idea for a new daytime TV show is in pre-production. "Judge Mental" combines the worst aspects of Jerry Springer, Montell Williams, and Maury Povich with a fake courtroom setting. I play the role of Judge Mental and get to pronounce verdicts on white trash, racists, playas™, foreigners, and of course liberals. In the pilot, I sentenced everyone to death, which may be why the networks passed even though it tested well. (UPN is still interested though, which puzzles me because, like I said, it tested well. I was under the impression they only ran shit nobody watches.)

In other news, I've been keeping a rather regular exercise regimen lately despite the oppressive heat even after dark. I can't afford an iPod, but my old man gave me a cheapo mp3 player that works just as well. I load up an hour's worth of songs and go walk the neighborhood streets. I love looking in people's windows as I walk by (Yes, I stay on the sidewalk. I'm a creepy stalker-type guy but I'm not that creepy!). If I were at all creative I'd think up interesting stories for the strange stuff I see. Like the guy with 2 TVs on the dining room table and another on the bookshelf behind those. (Note: He's always home, sitting in the dark watching all 3. And you thought I was creepy?) Or why so many people have patio furniture. Don't they know you can't sit outside?

But the most startling revelation is that I'm a dork. Last week I'm walking along, minding my own business, when You're The First, The Last, My Everything by Barry White comes on. Suddenly, I've lost total control of my body and I'm doing the dance Peter MacNichol did on Ally McBeal as "John Cage" in the middle of the street (if I can find a clip online, I'll link to it).

When the song was over, I gathered up my dignity and hurried home.

Monday, July 04, 2005


I can't keep my eyes open, so I'll keep this brief. I had three interesting conversations this weekend, only one of which was with a person who was talking to me.

What seems to be, is always better than nothing.

That's the difference between us; you see the relationship as a possibility, and mourn its inexistence.

Sometimes it's like I don't even exist. Even God has lost track of my soul. Why else would he leave me out here like this, to wander this world all alone?

[Ed. Note: Apologies for the melancholy, he's been like this since Friday.]