The s-process. Last night he went to a speed-dating thing. We had pizza and beer just before to try and calm him down. Today, the morning after, I asked him, so, how'd it go? The s-process' response: eh.
Song of the Day: Ted Leo & The Pharmacists: Counting Down the Hours
I went bowling with paranoia last night. The photo above is not actually of us... my camera ran out of batteries, so I pirated it from somewhere. I bowled my new high score (168) while we downed pitchers of shitty beer. At the end of the night:
nonstop: We didn't even hug tonight...
me: Let's go!
Special times.
Paranoia likes to encourage me to do the online dating thing. (So, any prospects? Uh-huh... looking for something new? Every time, he sounds like he's selling dangerous drugs / prostitutes / a pyramid scheme.) It certainly seems to be working out very well for him: a constant stream of new, fun people to hang out with. And sometimes I'm impatient enough that the siren's call almost has me: what if I'm missing something... But when I stop and think, lately I've been meeting promising girls (i.e., women I'd like to date) about once a month, with other new people even more frequently. So I should consider myself fortunate. What's the rush?... right? Maybe what I could use is something more like this: arnie's blog (see 10/12 post)
Song of the Day: Woody Guthrie - More Pretty Girls Than One
Photo: Lady of the lake, when she visited me in AZ 2.5 years ago. This girl is one of the sweetest creatures to ever walk the face of the earth. While we were in college, she used to go out and give rides to drunk girls in the wintertime (which, in State College, included sub-zero temperatures). At least once, a drunk girl puked inside her car. You would have think she'd have learned her lesson after this, but she simply continued on, resolute in being kind and generous to everyone she'd meet. The way I learned from her character was my favorite part of dating her for two years.
Last night, I was chauffeur to several drunk people I'd never met before. Thankfully, there was no puking. surly barnacle: I hope you learn your lesson after tonight. Nope, I haven't... at least not in the way that he intended. I prefer the lesson learned from lady of the lake.
Song of the Day: Modest Mouse - Dark Center of the Universe
I had a first date last night. First dates are always a lot of fun for me: as I was explaining to smoove, I hardly ever remember anything from first dates. There's just so much energy, so much that's distractible in her eyes and her scent and the electricity leaping from her speech, that the specific words just become trivial. smoove: so does that mean that every 2nd date with action is basically just a repeat of the 1st date? It's not quite like that, but I think that on the first date, you just sort of feel everything through. On the 2nd date, you actually start to tackle details.
It went well; not magical, but really good. She was great, and the date certainly went well enough that I'd like to see her again. Unfortunately, it turns out that she's just visiting Tucson for about a week. I guess I'm flattered that she decided to have a date with me during this visit... but that really wasn't what I expected. Weird, but a lot of fun. And now, tonight, here I go all over again... though really, I'm spitting game in lieu.
The photo is schemer & swift's antique piano, to be restored at some date in the (distant) future. Me and surly barnacle brewed with them today, doing our first mash-extract beer: an imperial porter.
Song of the Day: Gordon Lightfoot - Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
Last night #1 had a little potluck dinner, mostly in honor of her visiting Quebecois cousin. She also this retired Turkish guy staying at her house for a while... he worked for Air France for many years, and so along with #1, her cousin, t-bone (whose mother is French), and this old Turk, there was a lot of French spoken. I have a lot of trouble trying to adjust my mouth to properly speak the soft French consonants. And I completely forgot to try out the handful of Turkish words I know.
The photo is smoove & #1, with the bad-ass "color swap" feature on my camera. Smoove was actually wearing a yellow shirt. (The color swap also turned the background kind of purple, switching all the yellows with blues.)
Why the Go! Team is so freaking awesome:
1. glockenspiel
2. lead singer named Ninja
3. 2 drummers
4. lyrics like: when the boys go to it they always score / but can they do it with a cold crush at their door?
Song of the Day: 7 Seconds of Love - Ninja
Back to the archives for this photo... straight from the Boys of Hawk Mt calendar, this is me, aged 17, at the Scout camp where I worked five summers. I'm wearing the jacket of CPR practice doll Rescusci-Annie. It's a bit of a tight fit. (For some reason, we also had a Rescusci-Baby that summer, which we named Gizmo. I could not fit in the baby's clothes.) Along with first aid, that summer I also taught knots & ropework, campfire cooking, and wilderness survival.
Recently I've been doing a lot of thinking back to my camp counselor days, mostly because I've been a little disenchanted with astronomy. When I worked at the summer camp, it was the closest to being a rock star that I've ever been... it was crazy how much those kids looked up to me. And I really felt like I was helping them, not only by teaching, but in giving them advice too. I've just started TA-ing, and it seems that teaching astronomy can make me happy in many of the same ways. I'm looking forward to it.
And now, let's bring it all back. Bird & I used to M.C. the campfire cerermonies each week, and we'd throw in a skit of our own if the program was running short. By far, my favorite skit was "Death by Meatloaf"... this is probably because it involved walking with a pegleg and talking like a pirate. Whenever I pull meatloaf out of the oven, I cry out: What be in the pot? / Arrghh, it's me meatloaf / Avast! Can I try some?
Last night, I made meatloaf. It was delicious.
Song of the Day: Meat Loaf - I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)
I had some beers at the Surly Wench with monkfish and his friend deuce. Topics included theories on lesbianism, the differences between urban hippies and earthy outdoors-people, why people come to Tucson, and the benefits of aloofness. Deuce is a computer animator... he's actually responsible for some of the medical chart-type backgrounds in Grey's Anatomy. He and I talked a lot about our dating lives, while monkfish, married, sat quietly listening. I couldn't tell if he was living vicariously or silently ridiculing.
deuce: Johnny Cash has it all figured out, man...
Song of the Day: Johnny Cash - Tennessee Stud
I thought I'd go back into the archives for this photo. The play is Shakespeare's Richard III, the time is May '05, and I'm Duke Henry Richmond, soon to kill the bad guy in a bad-ass choreographed swordfight and be crowned King Henry VII. Last night, at 80s night, I ran into one of the guys from last year's community theater show (Taming of the Shrew). I've never really given him a nickname, so for now let's just call him ninja. The conversation went:
ninja: Hey, how's your girl?
me: Yeah, not so much... she moved...
[pause]
me: hey, I seem to recall that you had a smoking hot girlfriend; how's she?
ninja: Yeah, not so much... she was also 18...
Then he taught me how to breakdance. Tesla (female) had some observations on my dancing:
tesla: [action], keep doing that hip thing... see, women will see that and think you're going to be great at sex
me: really!?! do women's minds really go that way?
Then I met a fantastic cute girl who likes the Cure. I heart 80s night.
Song of the Day: Johnny Cash - Guess Things Happen That Way
I've been lazy about taking pictures, but this is too good to not share. Thanks to my friend, the angriest communist, for the recommendation... it's pirated from Red Meat. I like to call it, "If I had actually become a minister..." In high school I honestly considered joining the clergy with some seriousness (although I wouldn't have gone Catholic... I like women too much... also sex). Nonstop and I have been discussing how we'll roll out when I'm ready to play the field again. We've decided that he'll masquerade as an astrologer, while I'll pretend I'm a smokejumper. Perhaps even a seminary student - turned - smokejumper. (Unfortunately, I'm really incapable of being even as moderately sleazy as the last few sentences.)
Last night I saw The Hot Buttered Rum String Band with a whole pile of friends. Nopey has a good post about it (in quest of the robot), explaining the smallness of Tucson (his title is, in fact, a circle). It's true, often times, I do like it... I think I put it to him this way: I don't really mind the tiny Tucson circle when it involves me meeting cute single girls...
It snowed today in Tucson. About half an inch accumulated on top of the cacti. I opened the trunk of my car, pulled out the snow brush which had sat unused for 2.5 years, and did what I knew.
Song of the Day: The White Stripes - I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet)
I've been walking around my neighborhood more often, exploring the small Tucson-downtown area. This photo is from a sci/tech magnet school near my house. Despite the dead lawn, it's really pretty, as is most of the local architecture. Today I also wandered upon a jazz band playing to a barbeque at one of the local parks. These are the reasons I live where I do.
Song of the Day: Ladyhawk - Dugout
What's that you say? Am I naked? Oh well, deal with it: I'm calling it art.
I've been living alone for 7-8 months now. I'll be honest: living without roommates is far more lonely. I think that's mostly a quality of the white noise, that material construct of a powerful but effortless connection to other human beings. But there are three parts of living alone that I especially enjoy: (1) walking around naked, (2) drinking beverages out of the carton, (3) only having to clean up my own messes. But the biggest reason I moved out of my last house is because I had an uncomfortable 40-year-old roommate who called himself Bunga.
I've taken a blogging break for a few days because as I was distracted my posts were getting a bit more personal than I wanted, not really in the spirit of why I thought I'd start a blog (those reasons were 1: to write more, 2: to take more fun pictures, and 3: in case friends were curious what I was up to). And recently too, I returned to doing more writing on my own. I make no promises on the promptness of near-future posts.
Song of the Day: The Hold Steady - You Can Make Him Like You
I mentioned in an earlier post that my college friends created a video of our big get-together last June at the beach in Ocean City, New Jersey. The video ends with a scene of the ridiculously-frightening Cap'n Bones bursting forth from his treasure chest of doom. Cap'n Bones' Gold is a board game I bought one year for our White Elephant gift exchange, and it ended up in the hands of bag (aka RotS). It's pretty fun, but the skeletal plastic form of Cap'n Bones bursting without warning from his treasure chest is far more eerie than any children's game ought to be.
In further display of all our geekiness, this short comic was made about the last time several of us were together, just before new years: http://ton.diplomacyaction.com/comic/
My phone randomly takes pictures while it's in my pocket. With the phone closed, I honestly have no idea which buttons to press if I actually intend to take a picture, but somehow the phone manages to get jostled in such a way that I end up with a couple of blank pictures a week. Here is the latest, along with the last two pictures I previously saved: me with a mustache, and a shot of my kitchen shortly after I moved in.
I went to the gym twice today, and left both times because the lines were so bad. Damn undergrads... what are they up to, clogging up the gym at my university? Oh well, the gym will empty out after spring break anyway.
Song of the Day: R.E.M. - Me in Honey
I kinda sorta witnessed an armed robbery last night. I was at Target, to finally get my dad his birthday card... and I was distracted enough to miss the whole thing. Some time while I was browsing the cards, someone pulled a gun and robbed one of the front registers. Nobody was hurt, but the employees were pretty shaken up. (I took this photo right after I left... I'd like to tell you that the shaky camera work was intentional.) On my way home, two cars of cops had already pulled their suspect over: they had some guy in a little red coupe with his hands out the driver side window.
When I told nopey about it:
me: yeah, it was really weird. I'm kinda freaked out about it.
nopey: dude, what are you worried about? go home and polish your guns, and you'll feel safer.
me: oh yeah, I always forget that I own guns.
I grew up hunting, and while I've only hunted once since I've moved to Tucson, I do own a flintlock rifle, a shotgun, a .22 rifle, and a 30-06 rifle. I keep them locked in a gun safe in the back of my house. I will never own a handgun. The difference between my hunting guns and handguns? My rifles and shotgun are designed for killing animals. Handguns are designed for killing people.
I went out for coffee with a girl last night. She wanted it to be a date. I didn't. I guess I just liked the idea of talking to someone I usually don't. And sure, it was flattering... especially when she told me that she liked my shoes. The song of the day is Johnny Cash - I Still Miss Someone, and I suppose that best explains how I felt last night as this intrepid girl spat her best game and I remained unmoved.
I have to start learning to send people their birthday cards before their birthdays. My dad is not Martin Luther King Jr., but his birthday was yesterday, and every year I forget to send a card until the day after.
I spent most of today frolicking in the snow with friends on Mt Lemmon, north of town. It was a beautiful day. This photo will definitely be soon making an appearance as a decoration on my wall.
Yesterday while walking to the library, I heard music nearby. I walked a few blocks and stumbled upon a big festival happening behind the courthouse and city hall. There were all sorts of musicians, dancing troupes, food stalls, and handicraft booths.
This town has a lot more to offer than I give it credit for.
I've decided to start doing something about the dead tree in my backyard. In the middle of the night last summer, it fell... it cracked like a gunshot, and I was sure that my ceiling was caving in. My landlord doesn't seem to inclined to do much about it, so while I wait, I've been sawing the branches apart. Nonstop says he'll use it for firewood.
Last night, saucy brute: you know how people are about wanting sex? well, I'm that way about babies.
Song of the day: Go! Team- We Just Won't be Defeated
Surly barnacle, roller derby queen, the Duluth Mexican, tesla, and me went to a rugby match yesterday. Surly Barnacle has been thinking about joining, and he piqued my interest as well. It turns out there are a handful of rugby guys who are about my size (i.e., tall and thin, like the guy in black in the foreground right), so I think I could actually do it. I can definitely handle the post-match beer drinking, bar-hopping on the team bus.
#1 and I went thrift store shopping today to get the equipment for our "found sketchbooks." This idea comes from #1's art class, but I thought it was so cool that I decided to do it too. The found sketchbook is a cheap used book which you both use as a sketchbook and paste pieces of other cheap used books inside. In my case, I'll be taking images and mostly words from books about U-boats, American history, quail hunting, and oceanic life and putting them into my found notebook: a women's prayer book. I'm thinking of a theme of I am a man, and let me tell you why I'm more interested in people than God.
At the thrift stores I also found an awesome camel-hair blazer. I'll have to take it to a dry cleaner, but I like it. Ever since I saw Kicking & Screaming I've been wanting to look like a college kid in 1995.
On our way home, some crazy-eyed guy tore across a crosswalk pushing a shopping cart with several cases of Bud Lite.
Song of the Day: Rilo Kiley - Accidental Death
The photo may be a contrived metaphor, but it explains well my favorite part of the day. I don't have to explain it, I can just show and be.
Song of the day: Neil Young - Till the Morning Comes
Left Hand Milk Stout is one of my favorite beers. I should drink it more often, and I should also make more milk stouts of my own.
Here are some shots from the Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks show on Tuesday night. Because I am a pirate, I stole them from here: www.tucsonscene.com. On the left is the Entrance (the opening band): notice how the left-handed frontman plays the guitar upside-down. On the right, note Stephen's molestor-stache. Speaking of which, mark your calendars: International Mustache Day arrives on April 20. Several participants are rumored to be preparing mullets for the occasion. I'm not man enough for a mullet, so I'll just have a mustache.
I had my first TA experience today. It (a) gave me new hope for loving my job, and (b) reminded me of the best parts of being a camp counselor. I have held only the following 3 jobs: camp counselor (5 summers), canoe guide (1 summer), astronomer (2.5 years). Sometimes I wonder if maybe I should have tried some other things somewhere along the way, just to see if maybe I'd be good at something else. When I was younger, I thought about all sorts of other jobs, like being a minister or a mapmaker or a novelist. Maybe I sort of naturally fell into what I do, without really thinking about it too hard, but I've done pretty well: about 85% of the time, I love being an astronomer. Now my job includes teaching, which was a significant part of why I loved my other two jobs so much.
I went out and saw Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks last night. I rate the show as "pretty good," and I liked the opening band, the Entrance. Also, the Jicks bassist is gorgeous... though I think I've always had a thing for female bass players. Even when I used to see orchestral performances, I'd love the girls playing the stand-up string bass. Joey Burns (of Calexico) was at the show too, and right after the Jicks finished playing, he made a beeline for the bassist. (the hater: Who does he think he is?!?) The first time I saw Calexico, just over 2 years ago, k-luv introduced me to Joey after the show... it was comical to watch his eyes, and see how clearly he didn't care who she, or especially I, was, once he saw that she was with a guy. k-luv also told me stories that her friend dated him off and on for a while, and he treated her like garbage. That's probably what you get for dating rock stars (note to self)...
Last night I was thinking that it's a shame it doesn't rain more often here in Tucson... rain is especially useful in reflecting one's mood. (Playing blues harmonica works in a similar way.) I think that rain lends a stability to depression, and it's the instability, the way that almost anything can knock you back down with an ill-connected thought, that is my most hated part of depression.
Lo and behold, when I left work today, I had my wish... as you can see in the photo above.
Last night, at 80s night, a real estate agent asked me what my typical day is like, as an astronomer. 90% of the time, this is it. This ought to be a busy week for me, but mostly I've been waiting for collaborators to send me things. And my motivation is pretty low, due to distraction and the lingering siren call of vacation. However, no matter how little work I'm getting done lately, my office remains unassailably cool. Cool shit, from left to right:
1. photos of cool places I've backpacked / paddled and beasts I've slain
2. itunes... it, and web-surfing, are mostly the only things I do with my (work-bought) laptop. crucial to my sanity.
3. pirate flag
4. ship's wheel, netting, plastic sea creatures, starfish (the real thing, dried, as it turns out)... these were part of a valentine's day gift from k-luv, and are probably one of the most well-thought gift packages I've ever received... though I still haven't figured out what to do with the giant sail she also made me
5. plastic skull (from #1), holding a sound-making monkey pen (from my mom) and booty (from k-luv)
6. coconut monkey head from puerto rico, a gift from lady of the lake which was the first decorative element in the office.
Unfortunately, my chair has begun to emit a noticeable odor. (I grabbed it from someone else's office six months ago, so it's probably not entirely my doing.) If anyone knows how to clean a chair in a way that doesn't involve hosing it down outside, let me know.
Surly barnacle & I started a new batch of coffee stout yesterday. It's sitting in the bucket on the right, under the protection of the Happy Beer Buddha I brought back from China. The jug on the left is a honey mead we started back in September. We had our first taste of it yesterday, and voila: it tastes like a honey mead! (It still has a bit of a white wine flavor, but this will almost surely mellow out in the next few months.) We're probably going to bottle it in March.
It may be some time before I learn if it's actually okay to hit on cute girls in retail.
Or:
The Love Life of Action Jackson, in Three Consecutive Days
Act 1: Awkwardness, with a dose of self-righteous Fury
The scene opens with the kind of silence that has surely been going on for 4-5 months. Violins begin playing, full of angst and old guitar riffs (e.g., Summer of 69, Livin' on a Prayer). [action] enters with crowd, lots of noise, laughter, happiness. Perhaps several of them toss a beach ball, with a smiley face painted on it. [K] enters. Suddenly: Crowd noise diminishes only slightly, but laughter becomes surreal, ephemereal. We observe quickly that [action] and [K] speak to everyone but each other. Finally, [action] approaches. Consider interpretative dance for the following dialogue:
[action]: Distraction! Avoidance is Anger, Void, drain of happiness.
[K]: Do Not Assume! Not for Me!
[action]: [exits]
Beach ball pops and deflates. Off-stage cacophony of it's not worth it! and you can't change her! Consider fire effects.
Act 2: Intrigue, with elements of Excitement
Dr. Goodall: You should be careful with her. She's moving to [...] in* 6 months.
me: [eyes light up... goofy grin... then mouth works, but no sound]
Dr. Goodall: [laughing] I've left you speechless, haven't I!
me: Well... I appreciate your "warning." [grins again] It's crossed my mind.
Dr. Goodall: [laughter**]
*The word "in" should be pronounced in such a way so that it may also be heard as "for." Intoxication of audience is recommended. Also, be sure to have super-intriguing music in the background, like Al Foul & The Shakes.
**This laughter should include strong elements of you're ridiculous and a pinch of good-natured you're kinda cute, but I don't know what my friend sees in you.
Act 3: Resolution, but only in the Fantasy World, or... the [action]-story
Setting: Summit Hut. [action] walks in, searching, eyes cast upward, leftward, backward everywhere-ward. Several sales staff approach, all with "Supporting Role" marked on their nametag. [action] ignores robotic greetings, buys map of the Chiricahuas, and leaves. Hmm, he ponders in the safety of his '96 Oldsmobile. Perhaps she was working here on a Sunday, that time a year ago... [action] pulls out camera, takes the photo displayed above.
[Leave curtain up, under the guise of maintaining suspense, while the audience grows increasingly bored/perplexed/disgusted.]
While I was visiting Sunshine Rider (aka greensleeves) in SF a few months ago (see 12/5 post), I paid one of his friends about 13 Chinese yuan (~$1.50) to quit being a Republican. In the photo above, from last night, I'm gifting the likely-Republican driver of the giant jacked-up truck with a floral symbol of liberal peace and love. Just my way of making the world a better (i.e. less Republican) place.
It reminds me of the "poetic terrorism" attacks executed by Hellmouth & me at Penn State. The world shall not forget the Redifer poets!
an excerpt from #5:
Dear Redifer,
I appreciate your animal crackersThey lie stacked on my plate,All headless:The heads taste the best.Animal crackers are so much betterThan animals,You don’t have to put a bullet through a cracker,Don’t cut out the guts and genitalsTo butcher a cracker.The heads taste so good.
Most fridays I play frisbee with a crowd that's mostly astronomers, with a few other people we've picked up to play along the way. There exist people that get really serious and competitive about frisbee... I'm not one of them. I still consider it a cross between a sport best played with a beer in one hand, and a hippie activity with dogs. Ultimate frisbee is my hetero-lifemate's favorite hobby (outside of his fiancee and food), so I get in trouble sometimes by the way I casually refer to the sport. But still, I'm excited about the spring city league, and I'll tell anyone who is willing to listen that I'm going to be the Eric Lindros / Felix Hernandez of Tucson Ultimate.
The view of the moon out my bedroom skylight. Around midnight, there's always a window of moon illuminating my feet in un-shadow.
While out for beers with the diamond and surly barnacle, I made napkin roses for each of them. As you can see, surly barnacle loves his. Meanwhile, the diamond: I hate these stupid commercials for pickup trucks. They all look the same. Why can't we have a commercial where someone takes a piss on a big truck, then walks away and gets in a Prius...
Amen.
I think one of the most valuable contributions of friends is to tell you the obvious things you've been keeping from yourself. For instance, in the last week:
my brother: yeah, but will she ever love you the way you need?
my closest female friend: you need a nice girl... you've been dating bad girls, girls who are jaded, who just aren't kind to people, and they've been bad to you.
my brewing buddy: once she asks for it, it'll be feline [sic]... or no feline [sic]. you'll choose feline [sic].
Ahem...
At the laundromat today, sitting and reading the New Yorker while waiting for my stuff to wash/dry and wondering if the zuchini bread in my oven was burning... I witnessed the following:
1. A 40-ish dude walks up to me, says, Excuse me, sir? I look up. He continues, Looks like you've got it all figured out. I give him a bewildered look. He explains, Sitting there, washing your clothes, reading. I used to be able to do that. Then he walks away.
2. A 50-ish woman walks in, explains that she's just moved into the neighborhood, and is wondering how good the laundromat is. I show her all the equipment I've used. Is it safe? she asks. I certainly think so, I reply.
3. A 60-ish guy walks in with a grocery bag of laundry. His odor is far too colorful for words. After helping him pick up some dropped change (his girth and age are such that he has trouble bending over)... I go sit on the extreme other side of the laundromat. He puts his laundry in, then takes off his flannel shirt and drops that in as well. Thank god, I think. I'm sure that could use a wash. Then he proceeds to take off his shoes, pants, and t-shirt, working them all into the foaming washer. You know how you hustle? he, standing barefoot in his boxers, informs another woman. You hustle with your mouth.
*My laundromat doesn't actually have bullet-holed avocado & camel washers. I stole the picture above from someone's flickr account (ha, I thwart your anti-piracy attempts, flickr! My view-page-source abilities rule!). Despite the lack of piracy training in my primary and secondary education (see previous post), I'm a fair hand at playing the rogue. But in case you're curious, the photo came from here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pictobox/
On my bike, en route to a new year's party last night, I discovered this school. That's right, they are the Scholarly Pirates. I wish I could have gone there... at my school, we were the Scouts. That's more bad-ass than Mules or Bulldogs, but I could have used more pirate training in my formative years.
Why hanging out with my friends was probably better than the big party I was thinking of going to...
surly barnacle: (to me) You live in a fantasy world! I can't believe you!
saucy brute: [action], we missed you!
surly barnacle: (to me and saucy brute) Are you guys talking about sex?
me: Big surprise...
saucy brute: Hey, stay out of this! [action] and I are just having some girl talk!
me: Oh boy...
I began my day in the good PA-Dutch way, with a first meal of pork & sauerkraut with mashed potatoes. Then I sat on my ass and watched college football all day (until I went and ate more pork & sauerkraut with mashed potatoes, while watching more football, at a friend's house). Woot Penn State!
