oh. well. it's nice to be home

I've been back for a couple of days, but I haven't stopped working since I got off the plane. I've also been falling asleep on the couch at an alarming rate. Nothing particularly notable happened while in New York, which is nice, and I had a really good time, which is also nice considering my world turned to shit once again upon my return.

I landed in Sacramento and got a message that yet another photo shoot had been cancelled. I got back to the office to sort through 900 e-mails, one of which was from an angry record label person that escalated into drama. I got back home to find out that one of my roommates is moving in with her boyfriend and my landlord might raise our rent which will force the rest of us out of here. I don't want to move again, but it looks like I might not have a choice.

Oh, but I saw Good Night and Good Luck and it was really good.

the longest day of the year

It's only 8:30am, and I've already been up for a few hours. I know this is par for the course for farmers and professional people the world over, but since I live in Neverland, I rarely have to live on grown up time.

I just got back from the Econowash with a sack of clothes so I have something clean to wear on the plane and greet my parents with. I'll be in NY at 9:15pm Eastern Time, barring delays, setbacks or catastrophe. If the plane does go down, all I ask is that I'm stranded on an island with any combination of Evangeline Lilly, Emilie de Ravin, Yunjin Kim and the dude who plays Hurley because he seems pretty cool. But since there's no island between here and there--save for Grand Island, NE, and Three Mile Island in Pennsylvania, neither of which are known for buxom female heroines or wise-cracking chubby Mexican dudes, I'm probably shit out of luck. I'll be in New York for almost a week, and on Saturday, I'll be attending the Brooklyn Hip-Hop Festival. The rest of the time will be spent schmoozing with publicists, watching the Mets with my mom and dad, hanging out with my lunatic dog and eating White Castles.

Last night, about 2am, we had a blackout here in the neighborhood. I've seen enough horror movies to assume, right off, that some cankerous maniac had cut the power and was waiting outside for the right time to strike. I called the police, and the pissy operator informed me that it was just a regular old blackout and not the homicidal maniac sort. I like blackouts in the daytime, not at night, and not the night before I have to hop on a plane. I used my cell phone as a flashlight and, since I couldn't sleep in my room for fear of home invasion, I crashed on the couch in pajama pants and a Johnny the Homicidal Maniac T-shirt. My roommate found me and my gnarly feet this morning. I hope she wasn't too frightened.

Well, time to pack. I'll be updating while I'm back east (I haven't been the best blogger lately anyway...or ever for that matter), but I'll leave you with this:



Now, I love me some Cat Power...but Chan's no Paula Abdul. Straight Up! Oh yeah, I got to interview Steve Shelley from Sonic Youth. I totally geeked.

the greatest bocce ball nation on the face of the planet

We gathered for 'brunch' at 11am to watch the US take on Italy in the World Cup. Things did not go well--for either team, really. The US played much better than their last match, though, and walked away with a tie. They'll still need to beat Ghana and get a lot of help to move on to the next round, though.

It was a really sloppy game. It was more like watching kids in a schoolyard than watching a World Cup match. There were three red cards and a ton of fouls; one disallowed goal; and the only goal the US scored was kicked in by one of the Italians. But we all shouted a lot and we watched the game with an actual Italian--not a fake one like me--and it was fun to watch her get so into it. She was hanging on every pass and wasn't all that stoked that her team walked away with a tie. During the match, the announcer referred to Italy as "one of the greatest soccer nations on the face of the planet." Hyperbole is alive and well.

Afterwards, we all headed out into the backyard and I set my sights on the bocce ball set. I hadn't played in years, not since my grandfather was still alive, but I was determined to strike up a game. We got two teams of two: Myself and the Italian woman were blue, in honor of the Azzurri. About halfway through the match, I picked up my form and we won 13-9. We had to cut the game short, because I had to go to work. We've just started another project, so it looks like my free time will be a fond memory. We got it done, though, and afterwards, my boss showed up with his Affluent White Male friends and he bought me in to their game of poker. It was good times. I beat this smug bastard good: He had four aces, but I had a straight flush. Sorry dog. Later, in a game they called "Screw Your Neighbor" I advanced all the way to the end and when my opponent passed me his three, taking my queen of hearts, I thought for sure I had lost. I called for the card on the top of the deck, as it was my right to do, and he tossed me a shiny ace of hearts. I made it out of there with the boss's $20 and went and rented myself a movie.

i've heard the moons of jupiter are lovely this time of year

I'm suffering from post-partum magazine depression hella hard. So hard that I've been using "hella" at a remarkable rate--something I'm going to have to lose since I'll be back in New York for a week next week. This production cycle weighed heavily on my psyche, and what made it worse was that the Great Albert Pujols suffered a back injury, which started a windfall of big injuries and left my fantasy baseball team in shambles. But it's not only my little world that's turning to shit, so too is the macrocosm, the big picture. Namely the planet Earth.

I don't like to get topical, and I'm not an environmentalist. I don't go "hiking." Nor do I own a pair of sandals or a back pack. I think the environment is lovely and beautiful, and I respect it enough to figure it wants no part of me. If Nature truly wanted to nurse me at her supple bossom, she would consist of only of bunnies and puppies and kittens and Kate Beckinsales and not spiders and mosquitos and the like. However, all those things have the right to survive, I guess, or at least to become extinct in a tasteful manner--like thanks to the slow cycle of evolution or by some super spiffy meteor impact--and not because people like to drive Hummers to Costco.

Tonight, while watching a rerun of LOST with my roommate (I'm going to end up watching the whole thing over again), she said she'd just heard Stephen Hawking had said at some conference that humans would have to leave Earth in order to stave off extinction. What she was referring to was this. It sounds ludicrous, I guess, and normally I'd think so, but Stephen Hawking is like a living brain, so I couldn't help but feel like we are, indeed, pretty well fucked.

Anyway, though I'm sure Mr. Hawking has put a lot of thought into what he said in his Hong Kong speech, I don't think transgalactic imperialism's the way to go. I don't think there is a way to go, really. People are always going to want stuff, and when the oil's all gone, they're just going to clamor for the next thing until that's all used up. It's never going to be enough.

This sort of thing has been pissing me off lately. Maybe because gas prices are almost $4 a gallon (I don't own a car, so I don't really care, I just know that someone's getting really rich off of other people's misery, and I'm tired of people who drive SUVs complaining about the price of gas like it's someone else's fault). I ended up writing a letter through Congress.org to oppose drilling at the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska (I know, MySpace politics are the new partisan bumper stickers). The letter went to a few California senators and President Bush. So far, the two Democratic senators (Feinstein and Boxer) responded with form letters ensuring me that My Voice Will Be Heard (I'm not holding my breath). All I wrote was that I opposed the proposal and added, "You're smart people. I'm sure you can come up with a better solution. That's what we pay you for, isn't it?"

I really do hope they leave that refuge alone, though I'm not sure why. Probably for my own selfish reasons, like somehow I helped keep this place pure and that makes me a better person than someone who drives a Chevy Tahoe. Or maybe, that when the soccer moms start burning Costcos for the last can of Castrol, or stabbing each other at Chevrons for the last drop of premium, I'll know there's at least one place I can escape to. ...Of course, I'll have to walk there.

happiness soup

I took the day off until about 2pm when I got called into work and ended up staying for a full day's worth of hours. Last night after going to this yokel bar in the north part of town where I had three drinks more than I wanted to and watched these kids from Connecticut get really really fucked up. They turned the place into their personal party palace: They were mixing their own drinks behind the bar, dancing and stripping on the back bar, making out near the pay phones, fighting in the parking lot and someone, from what I heard, puked a bucket's full of vomit in the bathroom sink. I tried this rum called VooDoo for the first time and it certainly cast some kind of weird spell on me. It wasn't anything a little Carl's Jr. couldn't fix right quick. I passed out on the couch, though I felt pretty sober when I get home. I hopped off the couch around 7:30am feeling spry and energetic. I must have had a good night's sleep. That must be what it feels like. I wouldn't know, really, because I haven't slept all that much lately. I started watching the coverage of the World Cup, and around nine, I'd decided that I wasn't going to go in today.

I called the office, because I'm stupid and responsible, though I'm sure if I hadn't, I would've gotten a call. I asked if the magazine was finally uploaded to the printer, or if we were going to finally do that today, and I was told that that was taken care of over the weekend. I was ecstatic because I figured that meant I wouldn't have to part ways with the couch at all today. However, I was told that the online proofs would probably be ready, and I would receive a call when they were. I was able to watch the US get their asses handed to them by the Czech Republic and shouted with glee as Italy defeated Ghana. My loyalties are split, and the bastards who make up the World Cup brackets put Italy and the US in the same group. I don't know who I'm going to cheer for come Saturday when they both face off, but after the US's showing (or lack thereof) today, they need the game a whole lot more than Italy does.

Going through the online proofs is as equally mind-numbing as it is soul-crushing. It's not really editing, per se, since any changes we make at that point cost us a chunk of change, so I can't go adding commas and things of that nature. We can only reupload pages for big stuff like missing pictures, misspelled headlines and things of that nature. Anything else that I see that had gotten through our rounds of editing, I just have to bite my tongue and accept. I only found one thing so far that I was 99% sure I changed when I was making corrections. No one will probably notice it but me, but that one error has pretty much destroyed any enjoyment this issue could ever bring me. Better luck on the next one.

Seeking solace, I went to my smelly underground oasis, the Chinese restaurant, for some hearty grub and a slice of zen. Again, the place was crowded, and there was a table of women locked in the throes of a sake bomb fest. I overheard one of them say she had upwards of 10. I wasn't discouraged, though, I ate my wonton soup and drank a Tsing Tao. It was another cool night tonight, so I seized the opportunity to eat a nice hot bowl of soup. We may not have another nice night like this until October.

mailing it in

I'm really only writing this so I could get July 2006 to pop up on my archive list. They're like the rings of a tree or something. I'm going to write again soon, but I haven't had the desire to do much of anything anymore. I haven't even been able to get drunk lately. I think my tolerance is too high. I might have to switch back to drugs. I can't, however, stop chewing Orbit gum. I bought a pack of the bubble gum flavor a little while ago so I could get cash back from a liquor store and I've been hooked ever since. I'm even chewing a piece now, but it's the "green" kind. Muy minty.