lundi, décembre 31, 2007
Met up with Jamie at the bar she works at. Hefeweizen. Anchor Steam. Cailin was having her nails done and Adam was delayed at the airport. Then Cailin came over and after a bit we wandered about the Haight and then drove to the airport. They didn't let us wait along the arrival curb so we made about 6 laps around the terminal waiting for Adam to pick up his bags.
I broke my digital camera at the bar.
samedi, décembre 29, 2007
I do not know if this is an alcohol-induced depression, or if I am just really sad. The draperies are drawn and Seabear is playing in the dark.
I am tempted to medicate. But I will hold off for a bit longer. I wonder if this mood is from the constant mélange of drinks, sometime cigarettes, and very little sleep.
( Lover's Spit - Broken Social Scene )
Yesterday was the third day in a row that I've gone to bed at five or six in the morning. In Vegas, you have to look hard to find a window and you're never quite sure what time it is.
We had dinner at the Bellagio, then walked back for drinks at the Salon. There was a man there named Michel from Paris who took very good care of us. He remembered all our drinks from the nights before, and also sent out several rounds of Patron. Martinis, whiskies, bourbon appearing and disappearing at a lush, and mildly dizzying pace.
Then maybe it was at four that we took to the craps tables. I like craps. It seems to have a mysterious romantic air about it, with adventure waiting just around the corner.
Got a message from Meeg this morning. She's on her way to Boston and I guess we'll miss each other. I do not get back from San Francisco till the morning of the 3rd.
vendredi, décembre 21, 2007
as a result,
it is close to 4am and Leonard is unable to sleep. He is tempted to surf the telly. Maybe there will be interesting informercials.
Autour de Lucie is playing. And I am playing with photos. I might have lost about a thousand photos from last year, when I moved stuff around from one laptop to another, to another. Fuck.
jeudi, décembre 20, 2007
mardi, décembre 18, 2007
samedi, décembre 15, 2007
vendredi, décembre 14, 2007
vendredi, décembre 07, 2007
Random ideas. Inspiration.
( Just in from Renée )
"This is my work environ."
mercredi, octobre 03, 2007
At a Sheraton a few miles from Somers, New York. I had a flight at three yesterday afternoon but I guess I missed it. I wonder if they missed me on the plane.
Obviously jetlagged. Been reading the news since 2am with intermittent clicks on the tv remote. Anderson Cooper 360. Adult Swim. Law and Order. Kevin Trudeau's informercial on Natural Cures They Don't Want You To Know About. Nothing to see here.
How to sleep.
It's close to 6 and I guess I've little choice but to power through till the evening. Spoke to Kam last night and we might try to meet for dinner in South Norwalk.
I miss home. Home meaning Boston. "You can travel the world and live anywhere, but it's important to have a base, " said Aunt Hetty. I grew up in Singapore but I guess my base right now is Boston. Many people I love are there.
With luck I'll get work sorted out and get back Thursday maybe Friday.
lundi, septembre 10, 2007
samedi, août 25, 2007
the radio dept
i think i can hear michelle playing with a blender in the kitchen.
some of us are meeting at nine by harvard for dinner and drinks. half of me wants to stay in and maybe not leave till the morning. tired. paranoid.
dimanche, août 19, 2007
"Dudes, we need to do something this weekend. Something awesome," says Mo.
"Yeah, we need to make it a big night. A fucking big night - like have everyone, everyone we know come out and party till dawn or something," says Luke, waving for another beer.
"Hell's yeah! Where should we go? The Hong Kong's fun but you really need to be trashed... there aren't any cool bars around man. Wait, maybe Allston? They have a few cool hipster bars. The model cafe or something. Where are the hot chicks?" Leonard asks, wondering if he needs another beer.
"We should just do meth and go to New York or something," goes Luke.
We all look at each other.
Luke is a genius.
"Holy crap fuck yeah now that's a plan."
SO we didn't do the meth, but we did run off to New York. Got there at 10pm, ran straight to a bar in the East Village to meet Renee and her friends, then Katie and Robin and a few girls came over. 2 hours later we were in another bar. 2 hours later we were in a dance club in the Lower East Side. DJs with blue silhouettes. Justice. The Arcade Fire. Daft Punk. Fucking Fun.
5am we get kicked out of the dance club and we go for falafel and schwarma.
We had planned for a 6am bus back to Boston but then Renee said hey I'm house-sitting this place in Brooklyn Heights you guys should crash with. So we get there and we pass out and Sunday morning we run over to Freeman Alley for brunch and then somehow make it back to Boston.
jeudi, août 09, 2007
stereogum is a pretty neat music site. i happen to like the stuff they like, and maybe you might too.
this is the website
but this is even better because it's hype's music player for stereogum. just go there and listen to any of the tracks and hype should build a little player for you.
( recent stuff i found i liked)
- donny hue and the colors
- the weakerthans
vendredi, juillet 27, 2007
mardi, juillet 17, 2007
don't get me wrong i actually like caesar salad. this one just sucked ass. it's frustrating when you really try to eat healthy and healthy turns out to be tasteless, or in today's example - disgusting.
mardi, juillet 03, 2007
lundi, juin 25, 2007
mercredi, juin 20, 2007
jeudi, mai 31, 2007
"Oh my," went the manager as I hopped in first, crutches in hand. "I never expected our first table to be literally hopping in."
I love this place. I do. Best food in Boston. Period. The ambiance is perfect for conversations both serious and frivolous, AND John the barkeep makes the best drinks ever.
"Hey is that Jack Welch at the next table?" someone whispered over.
"I don't know actually. It could be? I've only seen him on book covers." I whispered back.
A few hours later, Luke and I were watching the Red Sox pre-game show and there he was, in the same pink shirt he had on during lunch.
jeudi, mai 03, 2007
high come down.
at the moment of composition it is 257 in the morning. thursday already. this week was a muted hell. i hated many parts of it. terribly. painfully. but somehow i am here. sufjan stevens - all delighted people. it's a bit soft, could you turn up the volume a bit? thank you.
people came over this evening. first ayman, then capo. then capo left on his motorbike to see about a girl. there was some scotch, some beer. and then a phone started ringing and there was news of a few more on the way.
"hey that's the door - let me get it," says luke, taking a quick sip of his drink before stepping out.
christine. amanda. pause, then paul caponetti. amelia arrives a bit later. maybe a half hour later.
samedi, avril 28, 2007
We had a little dinner party last night. Except that instead of courses we had our best friends sign up for DJ slots and we all played our favorite songs. Our secret songs. The ones we always wanted to tell people about.
Emily also took some photos.
In any event, I have a brunch date in a half hour and a plane to catch at three.
Mo and I are due in New York for a multitude of reasons. To see about a girl, to see about a show, to find a restaurant at the end of a decrepit alley, and to find happiness in a glass and perhaps other material and immaterial goods.
jeudi, avril 12, 2007
vendredi, avril 06, 2007
Work was good and the clients were cool and I got quite a bit done. I stayed in Chapel Hill and commuted daily along an isolated road that wound left and right through a sea of green and it was good. I slept with the balcony door open and slept better than I have in a long time.
On Tuesday we visited the Weaver Street Market and we sat outside and drank cheap wine. There were these hippies sitting next to us and they'd finished their wine and offered to trade us crackers and chips for a cup or two of white.
On Thursday I was late for a breakfast with Josh the newly-minted doctor.
Tonight it's whiskey and unpacking at catwoman's new apartment. She's a homeowner now.
mardi, avril 03, 2007
jeudi, mars 15, 2007
mardi, mars 06, 2007
samedi, mars 03, 2007
not sure where all this is going.
i leave for boston in a few hours. i was told to go to the cafe du monde on decatur, for the beignets and the coffee - "no! the cappuccino!" she said. "you have to go for the cappuccino!"
maybe i can get up early. maybe before the airport.
mercredi, février 28, 2007
Spent a night at the Sheraton here, which was remarkably luxurious. But lonely. I slept from 10pm till 3am and then focused on the ceiling and the tv till I had to check out at 6am.
I missed seeing Dad this time round and I hope he forgives me.
Paris in about an hour. I wonder if Aunty Hetty's in town.
vendredi, février 23, 2007
mercredi, janvier 31, 2007
Eva sets down a plate of freshly baked brownie, with a tiny scoop of vanilla ice cream. "You don't have to eat it all, " she says, "but make sure you taste it!"
The Stills are playing in the background. Lola.
There is a glass of red wine in front of me. I leave tomorrow for Singapore.
The boy who rode on, slightly before him, sat a horse not only as if he'd been born to it - which he was - but as if, were he begot by malice or mischance into some queer land where horses never were, he would have found them anyway: would have known there was something missing for the world to be right, or he right in it, and would have set forth to wander wherever it was needed for as long as it took until he came upon one, and he would have known that that was what he sought, and it would have been.
- All the Pretty Horses, Cormac McCarthy
vendredi, janvier 26, 2007
I can't seem to find anything to buy. I'm haphazardly browsing the shelves for the fifth time. Fiction. Eastern Religion. Non-Fiction. American Art. Current Affairs. The cute blond working here must think I'm weird as shit.
Augusten Burroughs. Magical Thinking. Running with Scissors. Sellevision.
Cormac McCarthy. All the Pretty Horses. Blood Meridian. The Road.
Don Delillo. Cosmopolis. Underworld. White Noise. Cosmopolis sucked.
Jodi Picoult. My Sister's Keeper. I've seen this everywhere.
Steve Hodel. Black Dahlia Avenger: The True Story. Oh God no.
Franzen. Franzen. Nada. Ann and Tina just started a bookclub and Mo proposed Jonathan Franzen's new book. I don't see it here.
We were at Chapter One Books earlier this afternoon and I couldn't find anything either.
Haruki Murakami. Dance Dance Dance. Norwgian Wood. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Don't want to touch this right now. He's her favorite author and I'm trying to escape her gravitational pull. Flee. Run away.
I like books about lonely people. Sometimes I buy books because I like their covers. I'd buy The Hours but I really hate books with "Now a major motion picture" on the front.
Hemingway. The Sun Also Rises. I like that one. There's a lot of Hemingway here. He wrote For Whom the Bell Tolls in room 206 at the Sun Valley Lodge. The Old Man and The Sea. A Farewell to Arms. He chose to take his life in Ketchum. I'm tempted to get The Garden of Eden. Not today.
At the last minute I grab the Cormac McCarthy. All the Pretty Horses.
jeudi, janvier 25, 2007
After a few beers at Grumpy's, we stopped at the video store and rented a playstation and a Tony Hawk game. We flirted with the girls who worked there and they flirted back.
It's bright beautiful out and there are snow peaked mountains rising up on all sides and we've a five bedroom house to run around in, with amazing paintings in every room and hallway, and a magnificent kitchen designed for a catering crew of ten or twelve. Gerri has more cookbooks than I've ever seen in my life.