" hella out "

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5 hours away from the red-eye. still packing.

my muscles ache in that way that the body reminds you that even though it's summertime BBQ badmiton, you still need to stretch before and afterwards.

i ate gordos for the last time today; a chicken quesadilla. i think either i'm nervous about not being done packing, or i have food poisoning. either way it's too late.

and where is y driver's license? did i drink that much last night? damn darts...

i'm going to miss the bay area. the people. the weather. the way the ocean and the forest are accessible for potential day-trips.

yes, the red-eye out. thanks to the advent of digital television transmissions, i'll most likely not sleep and eat food that is bad for you and arrive frazzled, weakened, and otherwise disrupted.

or not.

it's on to brooklyn, nyc. this is the next step.

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" sweet summer "

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it's all about the barbeque. all of the miscellaneous meat and vegan treats and how they don't touch or interact, but they are allowed to be on the same table.

it's all about the friends you bump into; those forgotten faces from deep memory, resurfacing and all at one fleshed out and interactive.

it's about friends who have kids now and they are tiny humans running around talking and playing and forming sentences and reflecting all of the things in the world that they know to be current in their notion of reality.

it's about dirt-field softball games with the super bay area ghetto family in the pit next to you. it's about the family of man. it's about frisbee in the california sun underneath a cloudless sky; the dogs running loose and the sound of kids laughing.

it's all about meeting people that you haven't seen for years, and how they remembered you and how they are glad to see you. it's about how we used to be neighbors and now we're exchanging emails with the intent to keep in touch and meaning it.

it's how it's all real and all here and all overwhelming and normal all at the same time. it's all about the feeling of the real beginning of summer, and how everything from that point on is going to be full and rewarding.

so yay summer.

yay.

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" FYI "

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for those few limited people who actually care about my whereabouts, i'll now be leaving the bay area on the 26th, and i suppose arriving in the brooklyn area on the 27th (flight-time and taxi-riding time pending).



so if you're saving up your hang-out time for a special day, hit me up. and if you're waiting for my in nyc...i'll be there soon-ish-like.



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" at odd angles "

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ah california, will your coastal wonders and inland experiences never cease to amaze?











































and one for the bay:



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" cross-country nerdery "

---

so brent calls me up when i'm eating some lunchy snack thing i whipped up in my spare time, and he says the usual intros and salutations.

then he asks me if i'm online. sadly enough i am.

he wants me to sign in as him on ebay to bid in his name on a surfboard that he's described as the perfect ride. that's weird and what a strange request, but then again maybe not?

there's something about the things that we, in this specific point in american technomodernism, decree as "normal." our mobile-phone-call-ebay-bidding-while-driving-west-to-east (deep breath here) me-in-my-house-him-at-the-DQ-in-god-knows-where conversation/transaction was almost too much to be true, and then again completely normal at the same time.

so kudos brent. congratulations on your new surfboard.

oh yeah, i forgot to tell you that i also got you a wholesale crate of ukrainian midget donkey porn. so um, should i have sent that to your new apartment, or do you think that your mom can forward your mail from her place?

call me soon. muah ahah ahaha ahah ahah.

zing.

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" my stomach hurts from laughing. is that so wrong? "

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and more here!

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" the whitehorse debacle "

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so there's a good friend of mine who is going to have her 25th birthday get-together planned at a place called The Whitehorse Inn.

free couch-sitting, free hotdogs, free los angeles atmosphere?

who says that socali doesn't rival norcal? i guess me, as i state that all the time. but maybe this time, the la-la version of the whitehorse can be loads better than the berkeley/oakland version of the whitehorse.

and this one has real hotdogs unlike the bay area one, which has old men that want to touch you inappropriately while drinking and smiling at a tilt.

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