aww...

People said nice things!

I'll see what I can do.

communication breakdown...

Wife: (reading Facebook) Wow, my friend's dog apparently came home covered in porcupine quills.

Me: Eek. That's weird. I've never SEEN a porcupine. (beat) Where do they live?
...

Wife: Umm, mostly in TREES, I think...?

Me: ...? No-- THE PEOPLE! Where do THE PEOPLE LIVE??

new year...

revive the blog?

or kill the blog?

revive the blog?

or kill the blog?

revive?

kill?

revive?

kill...?

undecided.

"i feel a little better when i think about joe walsh...."

I had a dream last night that, in the periphery, featured Ryan Adams singing a sentimental ballad (as Ryan Adams is wont to do) featuring lyrics such as "We can stay right down the road from Joe Walsh..." and "I feel I can go on if I just think about Joe Walsh..."

It was a pretty song, and the imaginary Ryan Adams seemed really sincere, but it strikes me odd that my subconscious would generate song lyrics featuring someone who has absolutely no resonance for me as a "symbolic" reference whatsoever.

What does Joe Walsh mean to YOU?

at home with the materialists...

TV NEWS: "According to a study focusing on 450,000 Americans and how they evaluate their happiness, a salary of $75,000 a year is the magic number after which people's day-to-day happiness no longer improves."

ME: Well, fuck.

WIFE: Yeah. I heard that earlier today. At least we know we're happy.

ME: Yeah, but there is no room for improvement? Sorry kids - THIS IS AS GOOD AS IT GETS!

WIFE: Maybe they meant $75,000 EACH.

ME: You'd better fucking get busy, then.

so it shall be written...

...so it shall be DONE.



I clipped the last corner this afternoon. Of course there are still some edits and figures and references to sort out, but the WRITING part of the writing is done as of today.

I feel no sense of accomplishment or relief yet. I think that may have to wait until I'm holding a finished, bound book in my hand.

progress...

I have a stack of index cards for my book. Each chapter has its own card where I write notes about things that need to be fixed, or references that need to be checked, or graphics hat are still missing. When the actual WRITING of a chapter is done, I snip the lower left corner off the card. Here is the stack as it stands...







Not bad, right?

Today I finished 2 chapters that were lacking decent conclusions, wrote one chapter from scratch, and just flat-out cut an un-started one from the book.

The end is in sight.

very brief lollapalooza recap...

... which has little to do with the music.

* Took the train in. It was raining. Had a PizzaHut Express pizza and a bourbon at Union Station waiting for the rain to stop. It lessened a bit so I walked .8 miles to the park. The rain was drizzly but not enough to bother me. And it takes VERY LITTLE rain to bother me. It was a nice walk that would seem more like 80 miles that night at 10:30 PM.

* I was dressed for the day in a pair of holey-almost-to-the-point-of-unwearable shorts and a ratty brown-faded-to-basically-colorless t-shirt. I also had my hair down most of the day, which I NEVER do anymore. In the name of Seattle-grunge-nostalgia, I was definitely partying like it was 1992.

* Caught the band "Company of Thieves" in the drizzle. The lead singer is fucking adorable. Started feeling old until I saw someone dancing in the VIP area who looked about my age. Then I realized she was probably allowed back there because she was the bass player's MOM or something. Anyway, it was kinda cool to see a really SMALL band at a small stage on a rainy day. (The person who shot this was probably standing right in front of me, judging from the angle.)

* Looked at the arty tents and clothes and stuff. If I was a skinny girl, I would have bought all kinds of cute stuff. Unfortunately, I am neither, so I just bought a sorta plain if vaguely retro Lollapalooza-branded t-shirt.

* Met up with Cute Alumna and hung out for a while with her friends and, briefly, her DAD. (Who is WAY older than me, thank god.) Sat in the shade on the outskirts of Yeasayer and Mutemath, but didn't really pay any attention to the music. This is why I usually go to concerts ALONE. Why pay $300 to stand in a crowd of people you DON'T know and chat with people you DO know while music you KINDA know plays in the medium-distance? Anyway, Cute Alumna and her friends were all tired from days 1 & 2 so they bagged Sunday by like 4:00. LAME!

*All the fancy food places looked really good but had crazy long lines, so I had a cheap hot dog for "dinner".

* I decided I need some tattoos.

* I found a pretty decent spot to the right of the stage for Wolfmother, and was determined to KEEP that spot so I could slide forward when some people left during the hour between Wolfmother and Soundgarden. Which means I was standing in the same place for almost 5 hours. My feet took DAYS to recover! Also - for me not to pee for 5 hours? UNHEARD OF!!

* Wolfmother was everything I expected - derivative, unoriginal, enthusiastic, and fun.

* I had smuggled 2 tiny airplane bottles of JD in my bag to make the evening concerts mildly more enjoyable. (Life would be way easier if I could convince myself to enjoy beer... and coffee.) Didn't really get much of a buzz going. But now that I know how lax security is, if I ever go again, I'm bringing a FLASK of something GOOD.

* While waiting for Soundgarden, I struck up some occasional chat with a cute, moderately-tattooey, bikini-top-wearing 26-year old chick. While we were talking about music, I made an excuse about liking something she didn't by saying "Well I'm older than you" and she asked how old, and when I told her she kinda wrinkled her brow and took a half step back and said - "No WAY do you look 40 at all!" I believe I may have told her I loved her. After feeling pretty old and irrelevant all afternoon, sometimes the universe gives you what you need. Not often, but sometimes. It certainly karmically makes up for the cute chick at the Rush concert a few weeks ago who ignored me in favor of some 20-something, chinstrap-bearded, hipster-doofus. I'm actually still kind of in a good mood over it.

* Soundgarden was intensely plodding and dismal and awesome, I was maybe 15 feet from the railing right up in the crowd-surfey action, and I got to rub up against a sweaty bikini-clad chick for 2 hours, so... not a bad evening. I was tired and a little sore the next day, but nowhere NEAR as wrecked as Rage Against the Machine in '02. Maybe the (occasional) running and yoga have me in better concert-shape than I thought.


So - that's my one day Lollapalooza adventure. Maybe if I train a little beforehand, I can try TWO days in 2011!

oh and hi, Dad...

I went out last night for drinks at an insanely upscale place in Tribeca where I tried seven different types of bourbon and rye, not counting sampling the "Creole-Fashioned" of the person I was with. It was decadent and awesome. And tonight I'm sitting here thinking about the bottle of Johnnie Walker Black in the cabinet...

Oh hey look, I can see Alcoholism from here!!

(I made myself some tea.)

dear quality auto service...

The free wi-fi is nice, but...




Three fucking chairs? In a room this big? Are you fucking kidding me?