Life Is Too Short to Refrain from Eating Jam Out of the Jar
Where is my trophy for surviving the last two weeks? Please don't tell me there's no trophy, because I didn't go through all that crap not to get something gold-plated and shiny out of it.
Although much of the last fourteen days were spent awash in bad news, loneliness, and physical and mental exhaustion, there was also plenty of good news, great company, and moments of rest, peace, and, yes, even elation. There was heartbreak and there was poetry. There was rain and heavy lifting and lots and lots of pizza. There was music--my god was there music. And for three nights in a row there was a winter moon like a delicate blonde eyelash on the dark cheek of the sky. Would I do it all again? Probably not. Only time will tell if it was worth it.
You know those times when there are just no words? Well, this was definitely one of those times. So in lieu of words, let us all thank the Canon camera company that there are pictures. (There are a couple of slideshows here, so be sure to wait for all the pictures to load.)
Here are a few shots of the gang (Teddy, Gayle, Hernan, and Sima) NOT doing large-scale music swapping of biblical proportions and NOT eating our weight in Mexican food.
I also ate yo mamma's weight in pizza in the last two weeks. (Huge foot shown for scale.)
Contributing to the success of Project Massive Pizza Consumption was the fact that my entire company moved our offices to a different floor in our building. Here are some pictures of the chaos and the office I left behind. (You may remember when I moved into it.) That big pile of papers you see? Those are old manuscript proofs that went from underneath my desk into the great recycling bin in the sky. I'll have pictures of my new office sometime in the coming weeks after everything gets put back together.
Last Thursday, Teddy hosted a bon voyage party to send Hernan off to Paris for two years of dissertation research. Well, when I say Teddy "hosted," I mean he provided the place and the booze (thanks, Cam!), while Hernan and and his girlfriend Sima provided the food and I provided the chill grooves. The Pixar crew was there being all chic and sophisticated as usual, and I talked to some English guy from Nottingham (as in The Sherrif Of) who kept saying amusing things like "whilst" and "conTRAHversy" and "I'm totally not racist at all, but..." As you look at the pictures, note in particular my self-portrait in the bar mirror; on close inspection, you can see Ethan in the background taking a picture of my butt with his camera phone.
Friday night was spent in the company of some lovely brunette people and some delicious Indian food. You'll recognize Teddy and Ethan on the right, and then there's Teddy's roommate Stephanie, her boyfriend Chris, and Teddy's friend Mark, in the chair. They totally persecuted me for my golden tresses, but I know it was only because they were jealous.
Ethan is pissed. No...wait...he's happy. No...wait...he's pissed. No...wait...
Last night after attending an afternoon work event that involved packing a theater to overflowing for a poetry reading (wtf?!), Gayle, Ethan, Teddy, Mark, and I went to Cafe du Nord to see Colin Malloy of The Decemberists sing with that ridiculous but endearing lisp of his. The concert was fantastic (what I remember of it, anyway), and the company was better. Gayle and Ethan met for the first time and really hit it off; Dr. Mark, the Prettist Theoretical Physicist in the United States, smiled a lot with his perfect teeth and directed most of his winks at yours truly; and I drank a lot a lot a lot of whiskey sours. After the concert we went to Sparky's, the fabulously gay all-night cafe in the heart of the Castro, and had mashed potatoes and turkey and oatmeal with raisins and macaroni and cheese and spicy bloody Marys. This picture was taken ten minutes before someone punched a stop sign and busted his knuckles open, one hour before Gayle and Ethan's Nine Inch Nails Sing-Along, and three hours before we made pancakes to fortify ourselves for the early-morning ride back to the East Bay. We were all a lot happier than we look in this photo. The blurry-faced guy in the top left corner is our waiter, who said to Ethan--and I quote--"If you ever think of switching teams, you be sure to give me a call, all right?"
Damn good taste in music, as viewed upside-down in the photos. Anyone who includes Floyd and Zeppelin in their repertoire is ok by me. Yeah, like you need my approval... >:-)
Todd--That wasn't my music there, but thanks anyway. I keep good company.
That last photo is awesome. Well, all the photos are awesome, but that last one, truly awesome.
A Newgyptian in Tunisia.
Wow Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin! How did you find out about both of them? Someone is cool.
Your life is TV show worthy cool.
Over Christmas, I was watching Santa at the mall while he talked to all the kids. Right in front of me was a mom crouching on the balls of her feet to take a picture of her kids on Santa's lap. She was showing about 4 inches of crack. I took a picture with my camera phone.
I am proud of Ethan for showing a similar behavior, and I bet a dollar that your butt is nicer than the butt of the mom at the mall. This is purely speculation.
Ethan must have loved the attempted pick-up...LOL...
My favorite pic was the one of the Mac. But that's only because you didn't post the camera-phone pic of your butt. ;-)