mardi, décembre 27, 2005

It's close to 11am and I'm by the pool nursing a coffee and a Joan Didion book, with M83 singing to me about teen angst.

The sun is warm and coming up high. At the bottom of the pool there is an etched seahorse with 'SUNSET' written on it.

We're back in LA and I leave tonight for a redeye back to Boston. Tomorrow we start planning for the new year party. The Webster girls want to dance and have offered their own playlist. She went "... if you have the critical mass of girls excited about dancing then the mix can't be bad."

'Black tie optional' the invite said. Champagne and other things gold, bubbly, and inviting. What happens at midnight?

. . .

I haven't decided yet but I might leave for Vermont a day or two after the new year.

dimanche, décembre 25, 2005

Las Vegas is not a place you take pictures of.

This thought occurs to me as I'm about to reach for the camera before leaving the hotel room.

I will

I will remeber the name of this clubv tomorrow.

(( Leo's out and about. ))

samedi, décembre 24, 2005


Los Angeles to Las Vegas.

Slow. Headache.

I'm to drive after we get a burger.

( sent from heaven by elroar )

mardi, décembre 20, 2005

when we write stories that aren't our own, do we run the risk of adopting them as our own memories? stories that replay themselves so often in our heads that we become the protaganists, and their lovers become our lovers, and their problems pain us, kill us and we end up taking possession?

these lives we live when we think it's our own, when it's all from somewhere else.


this doesn't make any sense and it's not related to what's happening now, but it's what i was thinking earlier, much earlier today. in any event, i have something else to deal with.

lundi, décembre 19, 2005

Oh the glory that the lord has made,
and the complications you could do without,
when I kissed you on the mouth

i tried. but i guess something broke today.

In the morning when you finally go,
and the nurse runs in with her head hung low,
and the cardinal hits the window.

In the morning in the winter shade,
on the first of March on the holiday,
I thought I saw you breathing.
this is possibly the worst gift wrapping job i've ever done in my life. it's not completely my fault really, this box is kinda shaped weird. and sticky tape fucking sucks.

the wrapping does its job though - this thing is practically unrecognizable. she will have absolutely no idea what the fuck it is.

samedi, décembre 17, 2005

There are people whose company or presence is intoxicating.

I remember Fia sashaying left right left in her dark shapely coat and her black white black striped mittens and hat, a sexy Dr Seuss of sorts walking down a path towards the town in Saint Jean d'Aulps.

I remember Fia and Nathan on the opposite ends of the couch with their legs intertwined and all of us in conversation by the fireplace. Did we try roasting chestnuts, les marrons? Maybe we did.

I remember lying on the sofa with my arms wrapped around Nicola, with Leena slowly crawling up and throwing her arms around the both of us. Then Fia started reading us a bedtime story about Little Tree and we fell asleep by the fireside, warm, and living the best of dreams.

And I remember cigarettes and beer with Nathan in the corner CAFE-BAR-TABAC at two in the afternoon. The girls were out skiing I think, and we were planning a surprise of sorts for them. Our girls.

It was as if someone had pushed the Pause button when we left Lausanne, and then resumed everything on Play when we saw each other again.


Funny, Our Way to Fall just came on amidst a random selection of songs - Marco gave me a copy and I listened to this Yo La Tengo album endlessly in Lausanne. Endlessly.

lundi, décembre 12, 2005

So I got the strategy position and I think I'm happy. I've a flight to New York at 6:30 but I think I might try to get on the 5:30. I seem to want to leave as soon as possible but I haven't packed so that's an issue of sorts. I've been told that we have steaks in the fridge but I don't know if I want to fire up the broiler.

"Hey bring a bottle of three-buck-chuck with you," Jeff said when I spoke to him on the phone earlier today. "We're doing a taste test with the twins."

"Okay, I'll be cabbing straight over to you guys."

There is a reception at Fendi tomorrow evening but I didn't rsvp so I don't think we're going anymore. I have about two hours to pack and I am still anxious before flights.

dimanche, décembre 11, 2005


Stomp. Stomp.

Will takes a few steps forward and looks about. It's snowing and we're standing among a shitload of trees and even though there are paths going over here and paths going there, we're not entirely sure where these paths go. We got here at four. I'm not sure what time it is now. You can't see any cars or people or houses from here.

"Are we lost?" they asked.

"No we're not lost." Will goes, looking down and wiping his gloves briskly on his jacket. It's getting late and cold and dark and I suspect he's annoyed. He snorts and stomps off in some direction. We follow quickly behind.

We're somewhere in the Middlesex Fells reservation. I looked it up on google once and I think this means we're in a park somewhere north of Tufts University. We parked just outside, armed ourselves with goretex jackets and ran in with our hands waving in the air.

"SNOWBALL FIGHT!" we cried, immediately deviating off the path and diving into snowpiles. "OUCH! That's bad snow!" Will yelled when Adam pelted him with a globe of chunky snow and ice. "Dude, that hurts!"

In a pause some time later, Adam ran up and surprised Will with a snowball the size of his chest. "BOOOYAH!" he-

"THAT'S NOT HOW IT WENT!" Will exclaims as we drive back home.

"Say what you will. I am the embedded journalist and it's up to me," I retort.

"I was the one with the fucking big snowball and I did not get us lost. Gawdamnit I wasn't even leading."
If you go up to our roof you can hear the snow melting and it's a soft crackling, not unlike that from a fireplace. "Piano, piano..." went the waiter in Milan when he slid a pack of cigarettes to us when his boss had his back turned. We looked about us, took a few cigarettes and then returned the pack when the waiter passed by again.

I was walking with a girl I used to date. We were crossing through a courtyard with old brownstones all around and I could see her hair glinting auburn in the sunlight. "I think we should be partners," she said, "we'd totally make a ton of money." I'm not quite sure what she was talking about but I assume it was a business venture of some sort.

We go into her apartment and it's really a big house and her roommates are there and sitting around. There's a grand staircase in the center of the room and it goes up and it goes down and she chooses to walk down and I choose not to follow her.

I'm outside and I know I'm somewhere near the apartment. I think we're picking up some food. Through a winding corridor and behind some wooden stairs we find an opening in the wall with a big white sign that says 'Chicken Biscuits' or something to that effect. The roommate with the beard goes up and talks to the guy under the sign and behind a counter and I think he's Australian because he sounds Australian. There's another roommate who's actually a little boy and he starts speaking in a Chinese dialect to the Australian guy and he points furiously at a bowl of soup. The boy raises his voice and somehow both of them end up laughing together and conversing rapidly. At this point I wake up and it's almost five in the morning.

Jeff's in New York. Luke and Dan are at the bar watching a game, and it's all eerie quiet in the apartment.

mercredi, décembre 07, 2005

"Today at school, someone hung a banner outside their house that said It Will Be OK."

mardi, décembre 06, 2005

Recently I've been wanting the days to end faster, but when the nights arrive I'm never quite sure what to do.

You know, I do have to stop this feeling sorry for myself crap. It's definitely a problem when you start dreading the days ahead. How hard could it be to look forward to life.

samedi, décembre 03, 2005

(Luke ordered a fleece from the Indianapolis Colts but they sent him a Pittsburgh Steelers jersey instead.)

"I'm expecting a package!" he cried as he ran downstairs when the doorbell rang.

"OH-YEAH!" he screamed excitedly as he ran back in with a large white package in his hands.

"Check this out!" he sang as he started tearing the package apart.

"What the fuck?" he cried when he realized it wasn't the Colts.


lundi, novembre 28, 2005

"I really don't think I need to do this. We're only here for a week - we'll be fine. It's kind of expensive too."

I probably looked outside the window. Springbreak in London. At the Rathbone Hotel. I do not recall what we did that day. Maybe we met up with people we knew. People who might've been in London too.

"Look, stop arguing with me," he insisted, sounding obviously annoyed. "Just rent a cellphone. Just in case I need to get in touch with you. Okay?" Dad seemed pretty angry for some reason or other.

"Alright fine." We ended the conversation pissed off at each other. I didn't know. How was I to know?

Just in case I need to get in touch with you.

Did he know? Did he know what was going to happen the day after? I was on break, content to roam the streets, wander through the shops, and drink at the bars. Why the fuck would I need a cellphone? It seemed pretty extravagant to have someone deliver a cellphone to me. For just a week.

And the cellphone rang early the next morning. It was someone I knew. "Your father's had a stroke."

dimanche, novembre 27, 2005

I, do not seem to know what to do with myself tonight.

There's a glass of ice and Dewar's whisky on the dining table. An Annie Proulx book spread open with the cover facing up. Close Range, Wyoming Stories. The Stills are singing through my headphones and I think the Giants just fell to the Seahawks 24-21 in overtime.

Erica and Dan walk down the hallway and disappear. Luke turns around and says something but I can't hear him. I take the headphones off. "Leonard, your phone's ringing."

Caller unknown. I wonder who it is. I wonder if the person will leave a voice message.

"There's a prayer I say most often for Owen. It's one of the little prayers he said for my mother, the night Hester and I found him in the cemetery - where he'd brought the flashlight, because he knew how my mother had hated the darkness. 'Into paradise may the angels lead you,' he'd said over my mother's grave; and so I say that one for him - I know it was one of his favorites. I am always saying prayers for Owen Meany."
- A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving.

I am not really sure what I should do with myself tonight.

vendredi, novembre 25, 2005

When I was ten years old my father taught me to assess quite rapidly the shifting probabilities on a craps layout: I could trace a layout in my sleep, the field here and the pass line all around, even money on Big Six or Eight, five-for-one on Any Seven. Always when I play back my father's voice it is with a professional rasp, it goes as it lays, don't do it the hard way. My father advised me that life itself was a crap game: it was one of the two lessons I learned as a child. The other was that overturning a rock was apt to reveal a rattlesnake. As lessons go those two seem to hold up, but not to apply.

- play it as it lays, joan didion.

i think we had a good thanksgiving. israel was here from philly. anna of course accompanied the man. lindsay and george from DC. and then there were the animated girls from minneapolis, emma, orlee, and robin. rich also, hailed from The City From Whence Prince Came. and then there was neil, the brother of luke. and talia, the wife of neil. and obviously luke and i.

we started at five and everyone's just recently shuffled out. bloc party's playing so here we are on the stereo and luke's holding the lighter in his right hand.

"do you want more of this?" he says, motioning to something in his other hand.

sean salisbury is on ESPN. a coors light ad flashes for a few seconds. i don't know who the fuck sean salisbury is.

i think everyone enjoyed meeting each other and screaming objects and phrases and dirty sounding things as we played a charades-like game. 'doggystyle' came up twice. someone put 'Lando Calrissian' in there. "who the fuck is that?" went talia. (he's the black dude from starwars. no not Samuel L Jackson. no i don't know if he was a jedi.)

dave's in vegas. jeff's in florida. dan's in connecticut. pauline's in vermont. snow's in vermont. i wonder where nathan is.

i hear the click and flash of a lighter. i keep getting scared about everything to happen. i know it's okay but somehow i'm not sure if i can deal this time.

mercredi, novembre 23, 2005

it's cold out.

but i can't say for sure because i've not left the apartment yet. oh wait. i have. there's a bagel from bruegger's on my right and i'm sure it had to come from somewhere.

coffee + music = happiness. even if fleeting.

i'm multi-tasking. i'm reading about personalized medicine, market socialism, turducken recipes, and listening to the doves. and let's pretend that i'm not reading about the new ryan reynolds "fat suit" movie. what movie? ryan who?

it looks cold out.

mardi, novembre 22, 2005

today just sucks. because it's shitty raining out and the skies are so unhappy they're hiding and i'm sick and hungover from too many drinks on a monday night and there's an interview at one, a team meeting at two, an in-depth discussion at three about things that i know very little of, and finally a two hour meeting that begins at four and will end with me passed out on the floor from exhaustion and an infinitely foul mood.

i also drunk messaged someone last night and that was utterly, utterly embarrassing.

vendredi, novembre 18, 2005

I hadn't taken the T home in several days. Maybe a week. Walking home is good because sometimes you get to light a cigarette by the Charles with the lights from across the water not really sparkling, but not really there all the time either.

And I'm at Kendall Square waiting for the train and the train comes. I'm walking towards the car and someone bumps into me and I'm like what-the-fuck.

Some guy in a dark jacket walks briskly away from me. Fucker.

Someone bumps into me again and I'm like goddamnit and I turn around annoyed, and there she is.

I look at her.

"Hey there," she goes, with a little smile on her face.

"Hey there."

mardi, novembre 15, 2005

well, I dont know about YOU.


I am home tout seul, drinking my second glass of J&B,(oh there goes the bottle)


(and obviously missing her and going quite crazy.)

everything is okay.
everything is okay.

lundi, novembre 14, 2005

the sun has almost disappeared and i'm in my room and the window is open and i can hear construction workers loading and unloading an orange crane. i don't know what they're constructing. i don't know which building they're working on. i can also hear cars speeding across the Mass Pike and today all this is somehow comforting.
i do not know where all this is going. this day, this month, this year. what has been done? what are we going to do? i've slept through an entire year. there were dreams, nightmares, and mundane dailies, but maybe nothing really happened.

these days have been intensely beautiful but also fraught with dread and anxiety. i want to pull the office shades up but i'm convinced that the light wants to hurt my eyes.

my heart will not break.

but i suppose that i'm finally getting up. and that is a good thing.

dimanche, novembre 13, 2005

I have a tendency to sign for stuff without looking. Somehow I bought a $50 moisturizer this morning.

mardi, novembre 08, 2005

     "Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that's why we're so anxious to lose them, don't you think? Remember the Erinyes?"

     "The Furies," said Bunny, his eyes dazzled and lost beneath the bang of hair.

     "Exactly. And how did they drive people mad? They turned up the volume of the inner monologue, magnified qualities already present to great excess, made people so much themselves that they couldn't stand it."

- The Secret History, Donna Tartt.

I am starving. But I do not feel like eating. I wonder how long I can last today on coffee and cigarettes and more coffee. And there better be whisky, later.

lundi, novembre 07, 2005

i hate waiting for the phone to ring.
Of course it might have been some other city, had circumstances been different and the time been different and had I been different, might have been Paris or Chicago or even San Francisco, but because I am talking about myself I am talking here about New York. That first night I opened my window on the bus into town and watched for the skyline, but all I could see were the wastes of Queens and the big signs that said MIDTOWN TUNNEL THIS LANE and then a flood of summer rain (even that seemed remarkable and exotic, for I had come out of the West where there was no summer rain), and for the next three days I sat wrapped in blankets in a hotel room air-conditioned to 35 and tried to get over a bad cold and a high fever. It did not occur to me to call a doctor, because I knew none, and although it did occur to me to call the desk and ask that the air conditioner be turned off, I never called, because I did not know how much to tip whoever might come - was anyone ever so young? I am here to tell you that someone was. All I could do during those three days was talk long-distance to the boy I already knew I would never marry in the spring. I would stay in New York, I told him, just six months, and I could see the Brooklyn Bridge from my window. As it turned out the bridge was the Triborough, and I stayed eight years.

- Goodbye to all that, Joan Didion
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.
The world does not revolve around me.

dimanche, novembre 06, 2005

I'm at home drinking a Black Chocolate Stout from the Brooklyn Brewery even though it's about a half hour before mass at Saint Clements which is on Boylston. Snow is at home working. Daniel and Erica are upstairs. Jeff is in New York and Luke is at the lab.

The Magnetic Fields are playing on the stereo and even though it's loud I don't bother to turn it down because I'm lying in bed and the remote is on a blue stool and seemingly out of reach.

Meaningless, you mean it's all been meaningless?

I was going to cook salmon this evening but the plan has changed and I suppose I'll figure something out after church.

Yes yes yes, it was beautifully meaningless.

I was quite a bit anxious earlier on but I think the stout has helped.

lundi, octobre 31, 2005

happy birthday little brother!

samedi, octobre 29, 2005

getting closer till we open our doors for All Hallow's Eve. the keg's just been tapped. the wine bottles are out. the furniture is in place and the mirrorball will soon begin the first of its many rotations.

i'm somewhat fatigued but my first beer is slowly waking me up. tried working today but it didn't work. "we should pace ourselves this time round," went luke. i fully agree. we are the hosts tonight, and we host good parties, and goddamnit we will remember your name! (especially if you're female and utterly gorgeous.)

though i'm not sure how exactly this plan will work. at the last halloween party i discovered a brutal fruit punch and barely survived an hour before passing out somewhere on the third floor with vague recollections of some people helping some girl puke out the window. or something like that.

vendredi, octobre 28, 2005

mercredi, octobre 26, 2005

so, one way to do it, is to just not give a fuck right? this will probably take some effort. and i'm obviously in two minds about this. ce qui me rend folle, c'est que je ne sais a quoi tu penses quand tu es comme ca.

it's beautiful out. it's also dark now and i'm listening to I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness. and as dan the weatherman roommate observed some time back, the temperature has dropped remarkably:


October typically sees the greatest fall in avg. temp. at Boston of any month.

Avg. high/low 10/1 (climatologically, F) 67.2/51.4
Avg. high/low 10/31............................ 56.9/42.2

Probably won't matter when drunk, but the roofdeck is more comfortable with temps in the mid 50s. vs. mid 40s....


on other fronts, i've just used a cheek scraper. the instructions that came with it then told me to insert the scraper tip into a clear plastic vial with a special code on it. this said vial, will be sent off soon for dna analysis. population genetics. the inside of my cheek is kinda bleeding from the scraper. maybe i scrubbed too hard. taste of blood on my tongue. this is somehow interesting in a perverse, medical sort of way. anyways, i have to do it again tomorrow (on perhaps the other cheek?) since they sent me 2 sample vials. all this pain for the national genographic project.

mercredi, octobre 12, 2005

lundi, octobre 10, 2005

working. i've had espresso and tea and cigarettes and it's going good but for some reason or other i seem to want to drive myself to exhaustion. the thought of lying there not falling asleep fucking scares me.

fuck. i just spilled water on the fucking keyboard. ah fuck it. fuck it. i hope these thinkpads are as water resistant as people say they are. is this a sign that i should stop working?

truck on.

jeudi, octobre 06, 2005

hello friends, it's been awhile. we're having a party tonight in honor of luke richard thompson. he takes his PhD qualifying exams at 230 this afternoon and he will do well. we've planned for 300 beers. if you don't think that's enough, then by all means bring more.

up early early. probably from the guilt of having accomplished little in the past few days. on tuesday i got in a volvo s80, drove 3 hours to armonk new york, and had an hour long meeting with my mentor where she whispered secrets to ruling the world. then i promptly drove home with a dozen thoughts in my head. alright i have a car should i get the beer now? or later? is there anything cool i can do with the car this evening? yeah but it's going to be a bitch returning later tonight. you're right you're right.

i got home and found a little package waiting on the bench outside my bedroom. maia (meeeg!) had sent over a copy of lolita. she's awesome and such a sweetie. i actually think i have a copy of that somewhere around but it's a dusty old, cloth bound (Everyman's Library) volume - i was probably never going to read it anyway, i seem to harbor an aversion towards hardcover books. i rather like paperbacks that i can write diary entries into, underline and circle passages and phrases, and then throw into my bag or onto the floor. oh don't get me wrong. i love my books.

vendredi, septembre 23, 2005

“Purpose of your visit?”

I pause. For some reason I don’t know what to say. Business? Leisure? I can’t say leisure, leisure sounds so sleazy.

“Er, fun? I’m visiting a friend, we’re going to see a concert.”

The immigration agent is clearly not amused. Fun? Who the fuck says Fun. Why didn’t I say leisure? Why did I even pause?

“What concert?” comes forth, though not really in the form of a question. I don't think he knows how to blink.

“Interpol,” I go. He’s flipping through my passport. Dude just let me go through. I have things to do. He obviously doesn’t give a fuck about me going to see Interpol.

“Who is your friend?” No contractions. Not who’s your friend, but Who Is Your Friend.

“Jennifer Schachter.” Do you want me to spell it for you?

“Where does she stay?”

I have no idea really. “Toronto.” Hopefully that sounds okay. I hope Toronto isn’t a state.

“So you work in the United States – do you have a business card?”

He wants my fucking business card? I open my wallet and give him a business card. He looks at it. Does he ever blink?

“Okay you can go. Enjoy your visit in Canada.” Thank-the-lord. I grab my bag off the ground and start to walk off. I wonder if Jenn’s here already.

“Don’t forget your business card.” What the fuck, at least keep the fucking business fucking card.

jeudi, septembre 22, 2005

* * P A R T Y R E M I N D E R * *

mardi, septembre 20, 2005

hey [pauline] i really really like banshee beat from Animal Collective!

samedi, septembre 17, 2005

This is erin

We are drinking at the Other Side. Jeff and Ayman, and Sonia and Eric and Brittany and other people whose name I forget are also here, drinking at the Other Side.

vendredi, septembre 16, 2005

Holy fuck

That's a huge fucking cake.

( sent from heaven by elroar )


I'm drunk and blazed and at dinner with people laughing and having fun,


I'm having fun,


Why am I sad?

( sent from heaven by elroar )
It's dave's birthday today and there's a reservation at approximately eight-thirty at Smith and Wollensky with a contingent (I'm guessing) of his business school friends. I'm at home watching a dvd of Six Feet Under and going remarkably quickly through glasses of wine and coke.

Claire Fisher is in love and Nate thinks they should sell the funeral home.

Almost seven.
I should shower and roll a spliff before I head out.

mardi, septembre 13, 2005

lundi, septembre 12, 2005

oh cool. i have managed to secure a table for dinner tomorrow at Balthazar. this is the first time the concierge thing has worked out.

jeudi, septembre 01, 2005

samedi, août 27, 2005

mardi, août 23, 2005


( click!)

lundi, août 15, 2005

Where's a kickass french speaker when you need one? I need to respond to someone, preferably in a witty fashion.


dimanche, août 14, 2005

(Cue in Le Weekend by Saloon.)

"Oh wow! She was really pissed off!" said Eran and Antoine together as we rode the subway back home.

"Really? Are you sure? I thought she seemed in an alright mood..."

"Yes! She had daggers in her eyes - she looked like she so wanted to kill you!" went Eran, nodding with her eyes wide open.

vendredi, août 12, 2005

jeudi, août 11, 2005

( must watch must watch )
twenty forty-six
pretty persuasion
harry potter number whatever with the triwizard tournament
the fountain
v for vendetta
a history of violence
broken flowers
i made some icons for work aujourd'hui. adobe illustrator is kinda fun.

lundi, août 08, 2005

"Oh I can't go now. I'm in the zone. I've actually opened this program and I can't go anywhere."

A minute later I ran over to the mall with Saleem to get coffee before his 1pm conference call. I'm back. And I should get back in the zone and I will. But I stumbled on this.

Let's never come here again because it would never be so much fun.

When I think about this, I remember Lausanne five years ago. And Saint Jean d'Aulps February this year.

Okay I'd better go.

vendredi, août 05, 2005

jeudi, août 04, 2005

Hello. The new camera came in today. Yay! My first, real, digital camera, ever. Thank the lord for credit cards and being able to spend money that I haven't yet made, and all that good good stuff.

(fyi) Brilliant Industrial Designer Anna is having her design presentation at 6pm this evening, at the Doran Gallery, MassArt, 600 Huntington Avenue. Go. Go. Go.

lundi, août 01, 2005

crap. my page is all messed up. need to rebuild this somehow. crap.
isn't this interesting? alright okay, so i had a canon SD400 camera in my amazon cart for $349.99 and when i checked this morning, yelled out, hey the camera's now going for $399.99, and i went fuck shit crap damnit.

but then i noticed (1) that J & R music world was selling it for $349.99, and (2) that there was this Complain About The Exorbitant Price button. yep. so i clicked it and told them about the cheaper thing and LOE AND BEHOLD (about 5 hours later) the camera had a new updated price of $339.94!!!

*Leonard pats himself on the back. Pat Pat.*

okay so i've no idea if this was just mere (mere) coincidence. but whatever. it feels good. so i just bought a damn camera without any idea of how i'm going to pay for it. but it feels good.

dimanche, juillet 31, 2005


Adam, making a booty call while Jess et moi look on. Who's he calling? Who's he calling? We're slowly getting drunk from the KaliMotxos.

( sent from heaven by elroar )

mercredi, juillet 27, 2005

Iz and chess

(( roaming roaming ))

( sent from heaven by elroar )

dimanche, juillet 24, 2005

jetlag had me awake at six seven this morning and i ran over to trident cafe but it was closed so i ran over to starbucks and it was open and i had an espresso and did some work reading until it got too cold and then i had to leave the air conditioned cafe for the sun outside.

vendredi, juillet 22, 2005

We started out the late afternoon in the baby pool (oh yes) with silver cans of Coors Light floating about like ice cubes. Then late afternoon became early evening, and the evening became colder and we had to get out of the water. And then we pulled a stray cable-TV cable up and across the deck et voila we had a net, and so we played volleyball with a Dora-the-Explorer inflatable until Iz or Jeff (or me or Jeremy) whacked it over the edge of the roof and down into a neighbor's patio.

Then there was a food decision to be made and so we got changed and walked over to the Eastern Standard for food but they said, there's a half hour wait, and thus we waited, but first attempting to get into the Foundation Lounge, however the bouncer went, sorry we can't let in people in shorts, and so we returned to the Eastern Standard and got glasses of PBR and I think Israel spoke or flirted with the tall hostess and she quickly got us a nice table outside.

jeudi, juillet 21, 2005

overwhelmingly depressed for some reason or other.

on another note, a headhunter called maybe fifteen twenty minutes ago. it was a so-so call. i'm not really in any state right now to coherently think about this.

mardi, juillet 19, 2005

Whooopee hoo, oh no i'm not jetlagged. I just happen to be awake at trois heures le matin.

Maiya calls while I'm sleeping. I crawl about, find the cellphone and she goes "Baaaatman! Will we see each other tomorrow?"

I'm utterly confused and she tells me it's ten in the morning Singapore time and I freak the fuck out, wondering how I've already slept twelve hours till the morning. Besides, "It still looks dark out," I mumble, struggling and trying to look beyond the orange curtains. It looks dark out. I'm fucking tired. I bury my face in the pillow and mumble some more.

"What do you mean it's ten in the morning? It can't be. What's going on?"

I-just-went-to-bed. It-is-dark-out. I-am-fucking-confused.

"Huh? Oh no no no, it's ten in the morning Sing-ga-pore time. It's TEN PEE-EMM right now, here in Boston. It's okay, it's okay. You're tired. Go to sleep."

dimanche, juillet 17, 2005

after about 30 hours of plane and transit time, i find myself in newark, new jersey.

they lost the pilot.

somehow he ended up in fucking baltimore.

so they're waiting for him to fly over here and then bring us to boston. with an estimated arrival time of 10 pm, that makes it about 36 hours of travelling.

i want a shower and my bed.

samedi, juillet 16, 2005

i'm in tokyo again, in a far corner of the JAL lounge staring out at planes coming and going. there are too many clouds today and there's not a trace of blue in the sky. there's a plane with its exhaust blurring up parts of the building and runway. i think it's about ten in the morning. my connecting flight departs at four in the afternoon. they've got a cool beer machine with a mechanical arm that tilts your glass as it pours the beer out. i'm tempted to have a beer just to play with the machine.

at the beginning i wanted to leave. and near the end i wanted to stay, for just a bit longer.

it's strange living and being so far away from family. from mother, brother, sister, grandmother. there wasn't very much else that i cared to see or do whilst there. i frequently say that everything's just a plane ride away but i still miss you all. a plane ride's still forever from now. where are we all going?

sometimes and always it's out of sight, out of mind. and it's good and it's bad but we just deal with it.

vendredi, juillet 15, 2005

( day 15 )

she hands me a little black box with a little black ribbon around it. "here," she says. i open the box and there's a white silk pocket square. underneath, there's a black leather and silver money clip from hugo boss. at some point, she looks up, purses her lips and then asks, "are you going to call me?"

mardi, juillet 12, 2005

we're a dysfunctional family, but we would die for each other. and that's all that matters really.

vendredi, juillet 08, 2005

( day 7 )

awake. tu me manques. i wonder what she's up to. i need to see dad today. meeting my sister and the lawyers at about noon to sign some estate documents. i want to be happy. i want to be happy.

met glenn and sunil for beers at emerald hill. sunil's back from japan for the weekend. singapore bars are intensely smoky and i think i might be falling sick. we ended up at Pot Black playing billiards and gambling small stakes. i think i made $14 but i don't think i bothered to collect.

it's almost five on a friday morning and i should probably go to bed.

mercredi, juillet 06, 2005

( day 6 )

morning. wednesday. up early. i want to go running but i'm locked out and away from my clothes. i almost go crazy reading society magazines for an hour. there's a photo of mom and aunty ivy in last month's issue.

. . .

afternoon. lunch and wandering around with freda.

"are you happy?"


"i suppose. i was happy the new year's eve before, with my mother and sister and brother at the Grand Hyatt. champagne intoxicated and happy. very happy."

i want to say i was happy when dad was around. but i don't.

"i have nothing left here."

i get postcards. and then go for drinks with sharon, lawrence and mommy. i was supposed to have dinner with chrissy but she's at work late. i wonder if i'll see her this trip.

i made a mixed cd.

lundi, juillet 04, 2005

( day 4 )

monday. i wander around Orchard Road with mommy and lawrence. we try to watch the 145pm batman movie but it's out of good seats so lawrence gets War of the Worlds instead. it's okay. not that great. we end up at a cafe arguing with mother. she insists that humans were being secretly eaten. i think we make a bet about something. we escape mother and head to a bar for late afternoon drinks. we're pretty drunk by 630pm and then take a cab over to Holland Village for dinner and post dinner drinks.
i am quite exhausted.

i got up this morning at about seven. bumped into mommy in the living room then ended up accompanying her to the kandang kerbau wet market. i was immensely curious about the market and tried hard to courageously wander around the butcher, fishmonger, vegetable and fruits stalls.

oh wait, i have to go. be back.

dimanche, juillet 03, 2005

( day 2 )

saturday. the wedding. the wedding dinner. phone call. the suits are ready at 3pm. i should probably take an afternoon nap.

. . .

glenn, lawrence and i meet toby at the bottom of the grand staircase at the Four Seasons hotel. mommy gave pearls to the bride. we say our hellos and how are yous and then quickly find our drinks. we find a marble side table just outside the ballroom and station ourselves there with our drinks, light our cigarettes, and people watch.

. . .

we're in room 16-15 with the bride, groom, wedding planner and some other kids. we get the bride and groom to do wine shots with us. "hey let's go to Zouk!" the bride screams "yeah let's!" and then proceeds to march towards the door but she doesn't make it that far. she's pretty drunk and slurring badly. actually we're all getting pretty drunk.

. . .

we walk past a line waiting to get into the Velvet Underground. lawrence waves to a bouncer and we walk right in. it's crowded and we decide to go to one of the other bars. we're at the member's lounge at Zouk. lawrence and i get to the bar and this one girl starts hitting on us but i don't know what she's saying. she goes to make out with some other girl and then comes back. i wonder if that's her girlfriend/boyfriend. i'm close to fucking wasted at the point but we drink on. we get through 4 pitchers of green tea + martell. lawrence insists that we also did irish carbombs but i really don't remember.

jeudi, juin 30, 2005

no i don't have any valium. try melatonin? lots of it.

hello. i'm in the tokyo narita aeroport. waiting waiting to get on another plane. gawd it seems like i've been in bloody limbo forever. almost screamed out in boredom on the newark-tokyo flight here. then i tried to get into the JAL lounge but the lady in charge refused me entry on account of some stupid rule, "i'm sorry, it works if you fly in on JAL and depart on Continental. you're flying in on Continental and departing on JAL. that doesn't work."

i'm in a japanese noodle cafe and five minutes ago it was ghost-town empty but somehow 5 million kids in colorful t-shirts and backpacks have invaded the place. everyone's screaming out their desire for tempura ramen and beef curry and pasta and i think i'm getting fearfully claustrophobic.

mardi, juin 28, 2005

i am, bloody excited about tomorrow. whooosh whooosh, newark. whoooosh wooooooosh whooosh, tokyo. whooooooooosh, singapore.

i've packed my SLR, a copy of gravity's rainbow, an ipod loaded with interpol and an audiobook of jonathan strange and mister norrell, and the decemberists and bright eyes and ladytron and i don't know what else. passport? check. credit cards? check. on the way home from dinner, i fell into a moment of weakness and i bought a pair of spiffy blue/yellow/black puma 5000s.

i've also got 2 spanking new ipod minis packed (and protected by a ton of tshirts) - a blue one for the brother, and a silver one for the sister, with grey and pink socks respectively.

hey, remember to set the alarm to LOUD_AS_FUCK.

dimanche, juin 26, 2005

     We're at Grill 23 for a late dinner. Dave's mom just got in to Boston. I think she's staying at the Westin. She just got in from Paris. She leaves on Tuesday for LA.

    "What's wrong?" I ask Dave.

    "I don't know. Steak tastes funny," Dave replies, slowly chewing.

    "Hm. Yeah. Mine's not too exciting either." I look around, wondering where our waiter is. There's a cute girl at the far end of the room. She looks close to thirty or maybe just a bit older.

    "How's your steak, Ma?" Dave asks, looking over.

    "I don't think they cooked it right. Look at this," she replies, clearly getting a bit annoyed.


    "And I didn't think the oysters were that great either," she continues. Someone comes over and refills Dave's glass with water. Then mine. I'm not sure what to do at this point.

    "Excuse me, could you get our waiter, and the check?" Mrs Chuang calls out to the boy with the water pitcher as he leaves the table. I try to check the girl out without making it too obvious. I've stopped eating at this point.

    "I'm sorry, Ma, usually it's a lot better. Seriously. I still think this is the best steakhouse in Boston. Just not tonight. Tonight's strange."

    "Yeah. Usually it's phenomenal," I say. "Tonight things just seem, normal. Well your steak seems kinda off. But mine seems normal. I could probably do a better job at home."
it's strange. it's late morning but there's no one out on the sidewalks below. not down by the turkish cafe. not across the street by the funeral home or the sorority or fraternity houses.

it's strange and it's only morning but i already want today to end.

samedi, juin 25, 2005

i feel incredibly lazy today.

mother thinks that i arrive friday near midnight. my sister believes the same. the current plan is to rendezvous with my brother the day before and then surprise the rest of the family at some point the day after. i was hoping to make a fancy restaurant reservation but i think they'd get suspicious since i already did it the last time.

oh i bumped into A last night and it was somewhat uncomfortable (at least for me). a bunch of us had gone for drinks at the people's republic and there she was. i couldn't really tell if she felt any animosity towards me but i think she should. or maybe i'd just feel better if she did.

jeudi, juin 23, 2005

i kinda hate today. badly.

on mute in a conference call with people from california, new york, and illinois. ran downstairs, bought a pack of camels. smoked one on the roof. made some weak espresso. the first bag of beans is empty but i'm too lazy to bother opening the second.

i hate today.

mercredi, juin 22, 2005

i want to read about a Grand Adventure. what? WHAT?

there's a girl called dana who's supposed to check out the apartment this evening. And she's late. what gives?

dimanche, juin 19, 2005

happy father's day dad.

i'm at home working. or trying to. in a way the state of panic has arrived and i've started freaking out about getting some documents ready for the morning. leena and mikko are out and about. ica. the aquarium. i really should be a better host but i think i need to get this done. it's also sara's birthday and i think there's a birthday picnic along the cambridge river. oh wait, there's a message. due to weather concerns it's now an indoor picnic above the central city economy hardware store.

played tennis this morning with anna. at nine thirty if you can believe it. i think we were both in distracted minds and ended up just being annoyed with ourselves. we must play again anna.

about 10 days before i leave for singapore. i'm excited but i'm worried that in my excitement i'll forget to set my boston affairs in order right before.

Leslie + Party

luke, tracy and i are at leslie's getting annoyed by a random spaniard. myGAWD it's seriously annoying. why's he doing his country such injustice?

samedi, juin 18, 2005

we had a two-keg-party last night.

very simple, no frills, no required dress of any sort. come as you are we said. great! no themes! went certain macho males who had in the past resisted all efforts to dress up.

and it went quite well actually. shomit was there along with his cousin (i think) and deb and jenn and eric, and ayman and ed and many many others. stephers, brooke, michelle and heidi made a special appearance as themselves. i think brooke gave me two photos from marathon monday which i later found slightly crushed at the back of my jeans pocket. everyone wandered around and i think some even made new friends. we spoke of strange fish in the boston aquarium, of what we were doing nowadays, and of flip cup. oh flip cup! we played many glorious rounds of flip cup and drank ourselves silly. i think we kicked the first keg in about an hour and a half. i'm not sure how the second keg went but sources have informed me that it's pretty much done.

i'm proud of you people.

jeudi, juin 16, 2005

autour de lucie playing in the living room. mikko's looking at a book about boston.

i'm really tired and sleepy. leena thinks that i'd be better off staying awake right now than attempt to get up at six. but i promised frank that i'd respond to the client rfp by about now. does early tomorrow morning equal late tonight?

earlier, we stopped by the eastern standard for two rounds of drinks. i think i've been there 4 times in the past 2 weeks. we had dinner much earlier but i got hungry and we added a grilled cheese sandwich and soup to the waiter's notepad. it was quite the spectacular sandwich. pollen is everywhere and staining the rain puddles yellow.

i can't deal. i'm going to bed.

mercredi, juin 15, 2005

i feel like i'm having the worst day of my life.

my laptop's not fucking working right. i'm doing shit that i don't really care to do, or give a fuck about. there's a million other things that i need to be focusing on. and it's a crappy ass day. and i just threw a bottle of screenwipe at the wall. i might need to throw it again.
we're so power hungry it's unhealthy.

dimanche, juin 12, 2005

Denver bus stops

Drunk, and waiting for the airport bus.

vendredi, juin 10, 2005

Photo 430.jpg

In a jeep with nathan, leena, and mikko. We're on our way to the sand dunes with beer, wine, game hens for roasting, bags of potato chips, a tent, a smoked habenaro sausage, french raclette, bread and loads of butter. At the moment, it is also raining.

We've an 8 track player but no 8 track cassettes.

Colorado roadtrippin'

Colorado roadtrippin'

( sent from heaven by elroar )

Colorado roadtrippin'

Colorado roadtrippin'

( sent from heaven by elroar )

lundi, juin 06, 2005

what is up with people not emailing me today? i'd hoped for peace and quiet and me fatefully working hard but now i'm mildly depressed.

dimanche, juin 05, 2005

vi veri veniversum vivus vici.

jeudi, juin 02, 2005

office PowER STRuGGles!

mardi, mai 31, 2005

i had a dream last night. timm and pauline were there, along with a girl that i know i knew well, but i can't seem to place her. we were all on a ship. a really big ship that in hindsight might've been a hotel of some kind. or a movie theater. there were all these rows of velvet seats and they faced a large projection screen. or a stage.

we were going somewhere. i think.

and i think i panicked when we went looking for our seats, overwhelmingly afraid that someone would have taken them.

lundi, mai 23, 2005

oh fuck i forgot to collect my negatives from the darkroom! fuck fuck fuck someone will have thrown it away!

jeudi, mai 19, 2005

somehow i'm strangely apprehensive about going to the darkroom this evening. not too sure why. c'est bizarre n'est pas?

mercredi, mai 18, 2005

fuck i think i'm falling sick.

(ps) some prom photos are up.

mardi, mai 17, 2005

i'm playing softball this evening. it's going to be fundamentally embarressing.

lundi, mai 16, 2005