7.30.01

i lost something very precious to me yesterday. fitting that i wake up and it's soggy and grey outside. at least sometimes the weather complies with my moods...if i'd woken up to blue sky and sunshine this morning i think it might have made me physically ill. it's noon and all i've accomplished thus far today is breakfast, which actually, now that i think of it, isn't that far from my usual mo’dus operandi these days. only i think i'm headed back to bed with a copy of Murakami's Wind-Up Bird Chronicles now. i have to get the motivation up to drive back to boise at some point today, but right now inertia is keeping me in the cabin.

7.29.01

back in mccall tonight. i think my favorite thing about this town is the fact that the only movie theatre is also the local lumber shop - you can pick up a few 2x4s, some metal brackets, maybe some popcorn, and catch the last showing of Shrek, all in one convenient stop.

my younger brother is in town visiting for the week (he's just finished his freshman year of college). among other interesting things i learned about him today, his college nick name is BUTTER McGADS. yes, that's right. as in the yellow stuff you put on toast. when i asked him why he answers to the name Butter, he patiently explained that an ordinary name like Matt isn't near as memorable as a name like Butter. i asked if any of his other friends had condiment nick names, but apparently they all just go by their last names. i like the idea of a group of guys named after things in the fridge - you could have Butter, Ketchup, Skim Milk, and Moldy Thing In The Back Of The Fridge.

7.28.01

freakish license plate of the day: "fat people are harder to kidnap"
location: parked in front of the gym

7.25.01

a reader writes in to ask, "what does slithy tove mean?" oh my dear kitlens, how could this have escaped you? doesn't your life feel incomplete? my gift to you this morning: jabberwocky, by lewis carroll. (read it out loud)



`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.



(original illustration by john tenniel)

7.23.01 - 4:28 am

we creatures of the
night see more than you sleepers
will ever dream of

7.21.01

i'm sick. i'm sick with the kind of flu that you're only supposed to get in the dead of winter, preferably over winter break when you're home from college and there are relatives all about, just dying to make you chicken soup, and you can stay in bed and read all day long. there's something terribly incongruous about having the flu on a hot summer day. and i have to go to work this afternoon. since i have no voice above that of a whisper, running the show tonight could be an interesting challenge. oh, and my mouse is broken and the cat scratched my shoulder. i think that's it for the list of complaints today. but it's only 11 am, give me time.

to the detriment of my health, i went to see bella fleck and the flecktones play last night. for those not familiar with them (i wasn't until recently), they're a band that plays an interesting fusion of bluegrass and jazz, with a little inspiration from rock and reggae thrown in. i have to say that their parlor tricks were most impressive - bella fleck played the banjo with his nose, victor wooten could spin his bass all the way around his body, catch it and not miss a beat, and the horn player could play both saxophones at the same time. but the most interesting part was the drummer, whom they referred to only as "future man". he wore this device that basically looked like he'd mated an accordion with an electric guitar, and then built it out of legos and duct tape. this in turn was connected to a full drum set, enabling him to stand up and play his drums with the freedom of motion one might have while playing a guitar. here, i found a picture of his weird-ass instrument. all in all, it was a good time. nick had offered me a ticket with a money-back guarantee, so i didn't even have to pay him for the ticket until i admitted that i'd enjoyed the show.

next musical adventure: i must find someone to go see the monkee's revival tour with me. any takers?

7.20.01

Date: Fri, 20 Jul 2001 14:31:28 -0500
To: [me]@[university]alumni.org
From: PK
Subject: How to remove yr. video card w/ a circular saw

In Swedish!

http://www.datadocktorn.nu/kortbyte.php

p.

7.19.01

oh man, the world hates me. today the dsl connection is down, so i'm stuck using earthlink at $4.95/hour for internet access. and i just found out that my health insurance company canceled my plan on may 1st and didn't bother to notify me until now.

this post must be short, since every letter i type costs be an additional .0002 cents or something (based on a calculation of 60 wds/minute typing speed, average word length 6 characters). i just want to set the record straight: a concerned reader, writing in to berate me for my inconsistent posts, mentions that we are in the same industry. his return address, however, was hewlett-packard. unless HP has begun putting on plays as some sort of team-building occupational therapy, there's been some misunderstanding here. folks, i'm a stage manager who's trying to become a stage director. any work i do involving web design or computer code is a strictly mercenary activity, designed to supplement my meager stage manager/intern/assistant director salaries. (if you can't tell, i can be deeply sensitive about being mistaken for a dot-commer, particularly last year when i WAS working for a dot-com and living in SF where everyone either believes that dot-commers are the anti-christ, or they are one themselves. i tried to pierce my eyebrow just so that i'd look more edgy and less like the nouveau-riche bringing high rents and moral ruin to SF, but the girl at the piercing studio told me i didn't have enough eyebrow. my life is so hard.)

7.18.01

ah, the outdoors fucked with us again tonight. picture this:

6pm: sunny, warm, slight breeze.
8pm: sunny, warm, still. a perfect summer night for an outdoor play.
8:10pm: the wind begins gusting. we stop using the curtain.
9pm: the periaktoi (gigantic pieces of scenery on wheels big enough to kill someone) begin sailing around the stage in the gale-force wind. we send actors on to catch them. the audience laughs. we continue the show without the scenery or curtain.
10pm: it begins to sprinkle. actors wear ponchos over their costumes.
10:05pm: it begins to pour. we get the furniture under cover, plastic-bag the electronics, pause the show.
10:10pm: the rain stops. an army of stage and house crew squeegee, mop, and towel dry the stage under bright lights. the audience applauds our efforts.
10:15pm: the storm sails on by, wind dies down, we continue the show on a beautiful summer night.
11:10pm: the final scene approaches. jeff: "how's the wind backstage?" me: "perfectly calm" jeff: "good, then let's use the curtain for the final scene," and then WHOOMP! a gust of wind just about knocks the theatre down at that very moment. it's like we've angered the gods somehow.

oh, for the comforts of a climate-controlled black box. i'm exhausted.

7.17.01

Q.

yeah, i was out of town again. go figure.

Q.

in whistler (2 hours north of vancouver, B.C.).

Q.

the occasion was my grandfather's 85th birthday. every five years we have a family reunion on his birthday in some vacation spot of his choice.

Q.

well, according to my calculations, i spent 25 hours traveling in order to spend 40 hours actually in whistler.

Q.

no, i didn't drive, i just have poor airline karma. there are no direct flights between boise and vancouver, so i had to go via seattle. everything was foggy and slow.

Q.

well, i've seen a lot of the seattle airport. did you know that they have 24 hours starbucks there? and on the general airport navigation signs, in addition to the directions for restrooms, news, food, terminal D, etc, they have an entry for "espresso", directing you to the starbucks stand nearest your gate. they've even created a little symbol for it on the maps, a tiny espresso cup in side a square.

Q.

the airport has replaced their standard public service announcements with kinder, gentler ones. for example, in place of the impersonal "there is no smoking inside the terminal" message, a perky, slightly effeminate sounding young man comes on the loudspeaker every 15 minutes to say, "Greetings, fellow smokers! the bad news is, smoking is not allowed anywhere in the terminal. if you'd like to smoke you have to go outside of the baggage claim area. the good news is, i'll be right there with you!"


Q.

no, i didn't really see much of whistler, or the mountain really, since only the bottom 1/3 of it's 7000 ft peak was visible beneath the layer of summer fog.

Q.

i get along with my relatives pretty well, so it wasn't too brutal, particularly considering i was there for less than two days. this particular reunion was marked by the addition of a fourth generation - my cousin's first baby.

Q.

well, it was interesting, because it actually changed a lot of the family dynamics. suddenly my generation isn't the grandKIDS any more, because we're all adults, and my cousin has a baby of his own so he's really an adult, but he's not a real adult like my parents are, of course, and then again the aunts and uncles of my parents' generation are now grandparents, but they're not old grandparents like MY grandparents are...it's all very complicated.

Q.

only 13. luckily i have a small family. i like diagrams, but html does not, so i'll spare you the family tree.

watching my grandmother watch her whole family, all four generations, it suddenly occurred to me that for my grandparents, we are their lifelong accomplishment. they've spent eighty-five years building a family. i don't have any amazing conclusions to draw from this, it was just a thought that really struck me.

Q.

since the drinking age is 19 in canada, i got to take my baby brother out for his first (legal) drink. we found this fabulous irish pub full of merry drunk people and a band that did vaguely-irish sounding covers of just everything that anyone can sing drunk - hey jude, american pie, etc. matt was crushed that nobody carded him all weekend long, except for the one time he forgot his id and so our mom had to vouch for his age.

Q.

i'm tired of traveling. i'm going to try and stick around boise for a few weeks here and just let my spirit catch up with my body's physical location. i thought for a moment i'd really had enough traveling when, on the flight from boise to seattle, i saw the grim reaper get on the plane.

Q.

you know, it's funny. he didn't have a black cloak or a scythe or anything, but a deathly white face. see, i was sitting in my seat, looking at my book and glancing up at the people still boarding the plane when i caught a glimpse of this guy at the front of the plane with a perfectly white face. at first, i figured it was an albino person, and as not to be caught staring, i looked down at my book so that i could think of a way to subtly stare as he walked by. but when i glanced up again, the crowd at the front of the plane and shifted and he was gone. but then i realized that what i'd seen wasn't actually a guy with pale skin, blond hair and blue eyes, but someone with a perfectly white face, like it was painted, and short dark hair and hollow, shadowed cheeks. it occurred to me then that maybe this would be a good time to get off the plane, but then i fell asleep, and when i woke up we were landing and nobody was dead.

Q.

no, i swear i was awake at the time. okay, so i was more than a little short on sleep that morning, having gotten off work at 1 and returning to the airport at 5 am. i might possibly have hallucinated it, but i'm sure i didn't dream it.

Q.

yeah, i told you i've been traveling too much.

7.11.01

today's bit of wisdom comes from lauren:

"you don't want to fuck around with pliers and metal and your abdominal wall if you can help it, no?"

she's right. fortunately, i managed to get my navel ring put back together without disaster. although i admit i'm a little disappointed. for a while there i thought i was going to have an excuse to see the inside of a boise tattoo/piecing studio. there's this super-seedy looking one down in garden city where only hell's angels types seem to get tattoos that might have been fun to go to.

7.10.01

how's this for dork injuries? i skinned my knee on my computer last night. no really, it's all red and scraped up. see, there was this loose screw that was rattling around inside, and i had to find it before it shorted something out, so i took off the side panels and tipped the box back and forth until hidden screw rolled out, like those little games you used to get as prizes at carnivals, where you have to get the ball bearings through the plane that runs diagonally across the cube. only, my computer is much heavier, and at some point i misjudged the distance and my knee and the box ended up occupying the same space until my the skin on my knee gave way. my life is so hard. why can't i have exotic sex injuries to report instead?

i'm back to playing with toys on brunching shuttlecock. this time it's the kevin bacon game. according to the program, i'm related to kevin bacon in the following manner:

[me]
owned a chain of fried chard restaurants secretly funded by
Penelope Klept
who who once sang a karaoke version of "Islands in the Stream" with
Kevin Bacon

who knew?

7.7.01

Q.

A. Tonight, I'm in Boulder, CO.

Q.

A. Yes, I realize it appears that way. But really, I do work sometimes. I'm just on a lucky-streak when it comes to avoiding 9-5 office jobs right now.

Q.

A. Visiting my brothers.

Q.

A. We've been mountain biking, swimming, saw most of three movies, went out for dinner a couple of times, went on a tour of Matt's lab and his college campus.

Q.

A. O Brother Where Art Thou, Moulin Rouge, and some old Jackie Chan movie, back when his co-stars were even worse actors than he was.

Q.

A. Yeah, we are. They take exception to the fact that I inspect their refrigerators and declare them to be Bachelor Fridges.

Q.

A. Bottled water, a brita filter, beer, condiments, peanut butter, frozen entrees, left overs of unknown vintage.

Q.

A. Yeah, they picked on me as a kid, too. We get along much better now that we're grown up.

Q.

A. Well, as a child, I had this speech disorder in which certain words were pronounced properly in my head, but came out of my mouth sounding completely different. For example, there were years in which I used the word "soasty" to mean "thirsty". Chris found this an endless source of fun. Jen: "Mom, I'm soasty." Chris: "Mom, Jenny's soasty!" Jen: "I'm not "soasty", I'm SOASTY!" Chris: "That's what I said, she's soasty" Jen: "MO-OMMM!"

Q.

A. Matt used to eat chicken noodle soup with a soda straw. His jaws weren't wired together or anything, he just liked it that way. The noodles slid right up the straw pretty well, but the lumps of chicken would cause a jam.

Q.

A. Chris? Well, I'm sure he did weird stuff too, I'm just to sleepy to think of it now.

Q.

A. Well, it is 2 am. Can't we finish this tomorrow?

7.5.01

so i'm in a log cabin in the woods with my lean mean computing machine, trying to be a web designer with a really glorious telecommute. trouble is, the selection of ISPs out here is pretty thin. oh DSL, how i miss you so! in order to truly express my agony, i've composed my own alanis morissette song about my online woes (courtesy of brunching shuttlecock's alanis lyrics generator):

"Will to Live"

I feel miserable
Phone calls make me ill
I feel miserable
Billing-by-the-minute tears at my foundations
I feel miserable
No carrier tones are dragging me down to the depths of misery
I want to die

Is it because of The Bad ISP that I feel this way?
With the green rays of misery pounding on my brain?
Or am I lost in tale of Dylan, adrift far from home
I don't think so, I don't think so.

Earthlink Broke My Will to Live
Earthlink Broke My Will to Live
Earthlink Broke My Will to Live
I was getting better but then
Earthlink Broke My Will to Live

I feel miserable
Tech support rots the flesh from my bones
I feel miserable
14.4 Kbps defeats my purpose
I feel miserable
These suckers are doing their best to impale my soul
I want to die

Is it because of The Bad ISP that I feel this way?
With the green rays of misery pounding on my brain?
Am I lost in tale of Dylan, adrift far from home
I don't think so, I don't think so.

Earthlink Broke My Will to Live
Earthlink Broke My Will to Live
Oh God, earthlink Broke My Will to Live
I was getting better but then
Earthlink Broke My Will to Live

oh, but it gets better: my new song, now run through babelfish's english-japanese-english translator (because i'm just not tired of that toy yet):

" " The miserable telephone which has lived it calls and in me the miserable computer miserable bill the misery where where I would like to die it pulls with my fundamental thing where I feel that I am pulled to depth and in order to tear, I where in order if to do thing, I feel the sickness which I feel like this do, as for thing that you feel because of the bad ISPs difference? misery of my brain the green light ray of pounding. or I me so lost with the story of the Dylan from the house which is not thought, wandering, directly, me so you do not think, it is. To the Earthlink which has lived me where I who in order to live me broke will broke will will you obtained the Earthlink well than me to the Earthlink which has lived, you broke, but, Then as for the Earthlink if my bone thing where in order my purpose where I feel that the impale miserable suction cup is best and has done to be defeated thing I feel my mind where miserable technical support meat miserable email I who broke my will in order to live would like to die because of the empty it becomes corrupted as for me I who am felt like this do, as for thing that you feel because of the bad ISPs difference? misery of my brain the green light ray of pounding. I me so lost with the story of the Dylan from the house which is not thought, wandering, directly, Me so you do not think, it is. To God namely the earthlink of Ohio state which has lived me where I who in order to live me broke will broke will will you obtained the Earthlink well than me to the Earthlink which has lived, you broke, but, then the Earthlink broke my will in order to live.

the important sentiments to pull from that, I believe, are:

"Earthlink broke my will in order to live"
"I feel that the pale miserable suction cup is best and has to be done"
"where would I like to die? it pulls my fundamental thing; I feel that I am pulled to depth and order tears"
"miserable technical support meat"
"aye me! so lost in the house which is not thought, wandering"
"to God: the earthlink of Ohio state"

yeah, i think that just about sums up my day. oh, and i had fried prawns for dinner at a resturant called Lardo's. they were too greasy.

7.4.01

the MUNI Freak of the Week returns! for one week only!

since i was in sf last week, and completely at the mercy of public transportation, naturally i had plenty of candidates for my Freak of the Week contest (see earlier entries). i think the winner has to be the guy with the mole-goatee. he had one of those tiny, long stringy goatees, the kind that you sometimes see on the chin of an elderly asian man, pencil-thin and about 6 inches long, all scraggly and coarse. well, this guy had one, only all the hair was growing out of the mole on his neck. i kid you not. i couldn't stop staring. he had this big but not offensively huge mole on his neck, a little off center at adam's apple height, and a six-inch bundle of hair, about as thick as a pencil, growing out of it. i mean, what would possess you to cultivate a thing like that?

so it's the fourth. mccall has a nice sort of small-town style fourth of july celebration. this evening they set off fireworks over the lake, and everyone in the area gathered along the shore to watch. hundreds of boats were out in the lake as well, their starboard and larboard lights twinkling like christmas lights. little kids ran about madly, jumping in and out of the lake, sparklers in each hand. i absolutely love fireworks. there is nothing in this world that can still make me feel like a child - small and overwhelmed and delighted - like fireworks can. by the time the grand finale begins, i always find myself clapping and grinning and giggling like a kid. the combination of the sparks raining down over my head, and the big chest-thumping booms create this sort of sensory-overload in which all traces of i'm-too-jaded-too-like-this-stuff are completely obliterated, at least for the duration of the show.

7.3.01

i find it was much easier to keep a regularly-updated blog when i had a 9-5 day job. update: i'm back from sf, and now i'm in mccall, idaho, at the family cabin. this would count as more vacation if i hadn't been up till three last night working. i actually hauled my big old box and monitor up here, and now i'm set up at the kitchen table, while from the open windows the scent of sun-warmed pines wafts in. if i look out the back door, beyond the deck there is a solid wall of forest - pines and fir and aspens shimmering in the breeze. "sick sick sick," you're saying, "if you're on vacation, why not leave the computer at home!" you're right of course, i should be out kayaking on the lake, but i'm not really on vacation, i just have a glamorous telecommute. this web project that i've been contracted for has been on hold since february, and then suddenly, boom!, it had to be done NOW. as offices go, this is about as good as it gets, i think. i have the golden retriever asleep at my feet, the sounds of the forest in place of pumped-in office white noise, only natural light - none of that icky fluorescent flicker, no cube walls, actual windows that open, and i'm working in my p.j.s. now, i should actually go work.

coming tomorrow: MUNI Freak of the Week returns.