puking
someone in my building has a drug problem and is always puking on the weekends. it's only springtime, you're too young to say you're through with love. i'll be different, boy.
- saint etienne, spring
i'm spending springtime (new york's excuse for spring) saying goodbye to my boy, personally. push back on the ideas of love that are difficult to reconcile with practical logistics. trying to balance out the love i have for my job with the constant frustrations of it and the way i push myself, which tends to get me to push others more than i probably should. i post my resume (wanna see? exhibitionist) online to get recruiters to hit on me, and my website on my aol profile to get horny and thoughtful guys to hit on me -- someday they will all coalesce into one hyperaggressive top who uses words like "amazing opportunity," maybe.
i'm not a super huge fan of franky (i so can't correct that typo) gehry, but i really liked this interview that he did. i am a major fan of east village restaurant mama's. for me to think about: utility nav versus functional nav (i am likely fucking these terms up, because i can't remember how a colleague of mine referred to them last night, 11pm, beers and pizza at toad hall). even thought h&m is the gap of europe, i, along with every other new yorker, cannot wait to check it out uptown.
i stand five ten with the open palms i'm dropping bombs with the urban psalms
- mos def and talib kweli, freestyle
talkin about work too much these days. is it passion or pathetic? more sex?
and i gotta redesign this friggin site, but i don't have any ideas. welcome, yours that.
dawson's crack
people are playing earnest, folksy rock music across the hall that makes me feel like i'm in one of those earnest fox dramas that i can never sit through, like party of five. i'm obsessed with navigation and usability, even to the point where, last sunday after i bought my first paper copy of the new york times in several months and went to le gamin for a sausage crepe and american coffee, i looked at the front doors for credit card stickers and tried in vain to figure out where people's eyes go when they walk into a place and don't know if they can pay by plastic.
had drinks with jami (whose website is bookmarked in my "webutante" folder) last night at 7b. we talked about zentropy and new jobs and raises, and how, when you diss someone, even if you're cool you don't get to be friends with them anymore. then we talked about posting our (kind of impressive) resumes on hotjobs just to feel appreciated, because we knew that slews of recruiters would come knocking. and they sure did. one of them looked up my home phone, called my office to find my work phone, and has started leaving daily voicemails. it's scary.
posted April 19, 2000 in crap, delivery