Journal of Pirate Lingo*
leave me a note
* not an actual journal
of pirate lingo
23.05.01 - 10:12 p.m.
pahhh, I am having trouble communicating my thoughts clearly, diffuse thoughts on various things.
Guess who emailed me today? Amber! As you will recall I met her at the airport en route to Houston, but didn't get her phone# cos these inebriated Texan guys were running interference. I didn't think I'd see her again, but then she found my address on the web & sent a note. Get-together planned. Word.
- Working 80 hr weeks, about which the less said the better. Against certain benchmarks this is not that big a deal, but it definitely cuts into having a life. It would be ok if it was hardcore coding (e.g. stimulating at an architectural level), but it's not. Anyway I pledge not to whinge about it anymore, just wanted to put it down for the record.
- Today we were talking about fencing diamonds, which I think would be the major problem w/ robbing a jewelry store. You can't just walk into another store and say "I want to sell this handful of diamonds." I mean you can but you know that the second you say it they'll be jabbing the button under the counter. I think the only thing you'd be able to do with stolen diamonds in a pinch is trade them for something else illegal, like drugs or fireworks or fighting cocks.
- There was a chemical spill in our building the other day that caused an evacuation. Angi & Andy & I stood behind the policeline & served as the peanut gallery. We made fun of the toxic waste guys' bright green uniforms, and the fact that their insignia had signs for radioactivity, poison, fire, explosion but NOT biohazard. We imagined them going in and then running out in mortal terror, screaming "my god it's biohazard!! we're not equipped to handle this!!" Also: I think the radio/poison/fire/explosion logo would make a great tattoo.
- Might as well do last weekend update since I've been too busy. And then I'll get back to work.
(LAST) Fri: winebar, all cheeses were disgusting. Then we met Shawn & Jenny and headed to the opening night of this hip-hop history/art exhibit thingy at Yerba Buena. It was fun, lots of hipsters in attendance. I saw this girl with an amazing tattoo-- she had three railway cars tattooed from shoulder to shoulder and each one was tagged. I wanted to tell her I liked it but the crowd was too thick. Shawn described the good parts of the exhibit so no need to go into it here, except to add that I had a spooky moment upstairs reading this transcript of an old Tupac interview (from the Wake Up show). The last question they asked him was, "Where do you think you'll be 5 years from now?" He had all these plans-- start an inner city baseball league, endow scholarships, start his own label. It was sad to read it standing there amidst so much joy & enthusiasm. Especially weird cos on this new Hive mix I got, there's a characteristically booming Tupac sample- "muthafuckas don't understand if I die." (cmon though, Tupac said stuff like that *every day*. it was bound to be prophetic sooner or later)
(LAST) Sat: in the day Angi & I switched rooms. I got the smaller one now, the walls are closing in, but extra $200 a month means I can finally afford that [something or other] I've always wanted.
In the evening ate @ Irawaddy w/ Triet & co and then headed down to PA for his birthday party. The funniest moment of the party came when we started singing happy birthday to him and it turned into this junglist anthem. Angi & I were going "REEEEWIND" and several people were beatboxing (including Triet) and somebody else was shouting "bo bo bo!" For his birthday we got him an Exotic Massage (not what I thought; turns out to be an actual massage) & some herbs/spices. Mostly herbs. :P
Somebody somewhere had this great Italo Calvino (?) quote about how writers are the most impoverished of all because by writing memories down they rob themselves of any pleasant ambiguity or alternate possibility of how things happened. Who had that quote? I can't remember. I also was browsing through dland and this guy posted a poem I like (!)
- My friend Nate's moving to town. He climbs rocks and speaks Spanish and has a girlfriend named Daffodil, and is generally the coolest person I personally know. Is that true, let me evaluate. (pause) you know I really think it might be true. My mom thinks he looks like Russell Crowe. Somebody at work was teasing me about what they see as my near-homosexual fervor when it comes to Nate. But I don't think it's a physical attraction, more a sort of awe. He's so laidback and casually competent; so easy to talk to and fun to hang out with. It's weird that he's coming to town because I think I might have trouble doing stuff with him because I perceive him as so cool. Angi pointed out that once upon a time I felt the same way about Sandeep, and it was necessary to lose the awe in order to build a friendship. I think she has a point-- once I realized that Sandeep's just a big dork (haha) it was smooth sailing. I wonder if the same thing will happen with Nate?
He's coming to town to work for Americorps. Maybe I can catch some nonprofit tips & find a way out of corporate hell. We shall see, see shall wE.
- When I come home on the bus late at night, it's foggy in my neighborhood. I really like the way it looks at night when all the lights are shimmering in the mist.
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