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Dec. 8th, 2011 | 12:49 pm
music: Tom Waits - Ol' 55 | Powered by Last.fm



I didn't realize until after I'd told it that my story last night was, at heart, a eulogy for my car.

Right now, that feels sadder than anything in my story.

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I told a story

Dec. 8th, 2011 | 11:49 am
music: Nick Drake - Things Behind The Sun | Powered by Last.fm

Yesterday, on a day's notice, I catapulted myself onto a stage in front of 60 people at Fireside Storytelling and finally jumped from listener to storyteller. Someone was recording at least part of it, so if I can get my hands on it, I'll share.

When I went up there, I had a list of bullet points, an ending, and a beginning: "This is a story about a car. Which means like a lot of American stories, it's also about something else."

I ran long, but I was so wrapped up in the telling that I didn't even notice whoever was giving me the signal, and the audience stayed with me, so what the hell.

During the deepest parts of the story, they were silent. I had never had that quality of attention pointed at me on that scale. It was the intense quiet you get when people are listening, both feet on the floor, too wrapped up in a story to rustle or shift in their chairs, and the only movement is in the unconscious expressions flickering on their faces. They were with me, riding along on this beast of a story. I wasn't fucking around; when I was making my notes, I'd left room for an awful tension that climbed and rolled into something nearly unbearable, with a monster of a climax that exploded exactly the way I'd meant it to.

There are places where I could've used more polish, there were a couple places where I know I lost my feet for a second, but who gives a shit: I was fearless. Holy shit, dudes. Holy shit.

I didn't really publicize it, because it happened so fast, but I'll let y'all know the next time. Thanks to Will and Tim for trusting me and giving me complete carte blanche, thanks to my mom for springing the bad news that led to this story on me just a week and a half ago at Thanksgiving, and thanks to Josh for putting whiskey and tacos into me exactly when I needed them.

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(no subject)

Nov. 3rd, 2011 | 03:34 pm

After the last couple weeks, I'm constantly hearing police helicopters that aren't there and feeling earthquakes that aren't happening. Do you know how still you have to be to know for sure that the weird jerk you just felt wasn't a quake? And d'you know how hard it is to be that still with your heart racing? And did you have ANY IDEA how much the sound of our office A/C sounds like approaching choppers?

VERY STILL and A LOT.

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THE ITCHENING

Oct. 24th, 2011 | 01:07 pm
music: Jónsi & Alex - Boy 1904 | Powered by Last.fm

SO. MANY. MOSQUITOS.

I am getting crazy-good at the 3 a.m. deranged turn-on-lights, put-on-bathrobe, grab-shirt-to-swat-with swoop, followed by freezing sharply and scanning the pale walls for signs of bloodsuckers. It's easier when they've already fed, because they fly slower, lower and with fewer evasive tactics -- I've even popped a couple with the flats of my fingers, leaving a bright red smear of blood on my hand. MY BLOOD. BASTARDS. I got two last night, two in the living room and two in the bedroom. I am starting to keep my windows closed. I hate it, but my arms are a constellation of bites and oh god, the ITCHING. Knuckle? Sole of foot? Face? I've had all of the worst of them, all in the last couple weeks.

I've already trawled the yard looking for standing water and emptied out a couple small buckets, but I worry that the locked, untended side yard being used for storage is where the bastards are coming from.

Interestingly, the whine of a mosquito and the whine of a two-stroke engine on the elevated freeway two blocks to the west are, from my bed, NEARLY IDENTICAL.

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A CHAT

Jan. 19th, 2011 | 04:13 pm

redsonya: I have a $20 gc for Sephora and I don't know what to buy.

me: A PONY

redsonya: I'm pretty sure they don't sell ponies.

me: TINY BLUSHER PONIES
me: you rub one on your face until it whinnies, and then your cheeks turn red

redsonya: As soon as someone invents those I will be all over it.

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Sent from my techno-woobie

Nov. 3rd, 2010 | 11:34 pm

Not using a computer at home every night is weird.*

*iPhone excepted because to me "computer" means "has at least two web browsers, Eclipse and a clicky keyboard."**

**Yes I know "clicky keyboard" is an iPhone setting away but christ, that was the first thing I turned off with my first iPhone two years and change ago, even before making a custom ringtone.

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Hi, October!

Oct. 4th, 2010 | 05:05 pm
music: The Twilight Sad - Untitled #27 | Powered by Last.fm

It's knittin' weather! This makes me SO FREAKING HAPPY.

I have a notorious habit of nudging beginning knitters into trying more advanced stuff, so of course yesterday on the plane I ended up suckering a bored scarf-knitter into considering a sweater for her next project.

"It's a tube," I said, holding up my half-finished sweater, "with a couple more tubes coming off it. Easy."

I hope I was convincing, and that the beer I REEKED of didn't dissuade her. I did try to point my booze breath away from her face.
Tags:

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Stoked!

Aug. 18th, 2010 | 11:38 pm

I have a small sketchbook with schematics and initial drawings for a dozen knitting designs I'm gonna self-publish. (This is gonna be a heroic amount of work, but hey.)

I am naming them all after Oakland bars.

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or I could just get two Frenchies

Jul. 27th, 2010 | 04:53 pm
music: The Big Sleep - Shima | Powered by Last.fm

OK, actually, if I had a French bulldog exactly the color of a perfectly toasted marshmallow, I am not sure if I would name it "Biscuit" or "Maillard."

Maybe "Maillard" for fanciness and "Biscuit" for nicknaming purposes.

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The man was a damn Zen master

Jul. 16th, 2010 | 11:00 am
music: The Camaromance - Mixing business with pleasure | Powered by Last.fm

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