Journal of Pirate Lingo*


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* not an actual journal
of pirate lingo

12.06.01 - 12:35 p.m.

ok i'm back. i bought pristine peaches and succulent strawberries and tempting tofu salad and an orgasmic organic burrito. the farmer's market has gotten huge. i love summer. i'm riding some kind of crazy high today, despite waking up at 5AM for frickin' east coast coordination. i don't see why East Coast Lady can't just get in late.

ok, weekend update continued (dont you dare doze off... man you've already dozed off. even i'm dozing off. but it's for the record)


slept till noon, made my room immaculate. i finally put up all those black and white album covers i bought at the record store across the street. i haven't listened to the records, it's just the art i wanted. my favorite is the john lennon/yoko ono album where they're kissing. it's just a lovely photo. also billy joel, boz scaggs and others.

dinner w/ baycrew + amber + anne marie @ pride of the mediterranean. i forget what flavor hookah we got but at this point it's become clear that they all taste the same. we were comparing hookahs and bongs. shawn: "the hookah's like a sniper rifle, the bong's like a shotgun." well put.

then mogwai @ fillmore. they didn't wear kilts, but nevertheless a good show. it was really, really loud (even with my earplugs) but they got points for having a floutist. flute-player? whatever the word may be. i felt kind of gypped (apologies to gypsies everywhere) because by the time we got out, they'd run out of posters. this guy was scalping them for $20, but desire for artifacts only goes so far. $5, i would have thought about it.

headed back to berkeley, spent the night there. on the way we listened to a lot of punk ska (MU330 etc) and it made me vaguely nostalgic for days at the huntridge in las vegas, dancehall crashers & skankin pickle & the specials. i tried to write down all the shows i've been to in my life, because i wanted to impress myself. it was sort of impressive but mostly just puzzling. if you went back in time to when you were 16, what would you say to yourself?


home-made pancakes, sitting on amber's stoop drinking coffee & listening to sheryl crow... it was a warm morning and the birds were singing and the sky was blue and it really felt like i was living in a movie version of my life. i feel a danger in writing about her, cos if things don't work out then i'm stuck with this historical record of happiness which then seems to mock me. but whatever, this journal would be lame if i just wrote about the bad things in life.

back into the city, work for a few hours. talked to laura-- she's back from nepal (amazing story; she was there when the royal family was killed, had to basically fly out early or risk never flying out at all, madness on the streets; you can imagine the twisted glee with which i devoured the details of her trip, given my obsession with world's most dangerous places) & living in santa clara for the summer.

in the evening took shawn out for his birthday. we ate at this chi-chi fusion restaurant, Home. the coolest thing about home is that the window facing the street is tilted at a 30 degree angle, so from the outside it looks like the whole restaurant is tilted. what is it with me and tilted restaurants?

we ended up at this tiki bar that jenny found by typing "tiki" into ridiculous drinks-- the "scorpion" cost $18 and it had umbrellas, flames coming out of the middle, you name it. happy birthday shawn! i think i need to incorporate more tiki bars into my life.

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