locus. cult of personality
sometimes, just at the last hour, something happens to make your monday just as fucked up as any other.
sometimes you hear things that are hard to hear from people that you like: "nope... not interested. no booty call is worth all that"
sometimes you think of words that you want to use in a regular conversation: locus. cult of personality.
still thinking about you
sorry guys–i'll update soon (including the erykah badu concert, dreams, career changes, disturbing fan mail, etc.); lots of shit going down here.
posted February 22, 2001 in deliverysnow silence
i love walking home when the snow's falling. it's a rare time when new york city descends to a beautiful hush, and tonight reminded me of hearing russell leong, when we met, talking about running on the campus track early in the morning, after it had rained, now evaporating into steam while he stepped over the pink worms that had washed up. that was a fun semester in school–when i was taking a writing class and was pushed to write about anything interesting that happened or was said to me. what happened to that urge? i've been wondering a lot lately if some things are gone for good, or if my mood swings will continue to follow nasdaq. i used to think i had so much agency ...
posted February 21, 2001 in delivery, printg
last night i was at g. i hardly ever go to this bar, because it's in the epicenter of chelsea, a neighborhood that i have a love-hate relationship with. too many cute guys, muscles, attitude, girl drinks, girl mannerisms; it turns me on and off too erratically, starts to feel like an uncomfortable drug experience, and pushes me back home after not too long. but tonight mao called me from there right as toby, dom, joe, and i were finishing up with another too-awful-to-avoid episode of queer as folk, and so we're there. a shorter guy who looked latino looked at me, smiled, and said, "do you live in the east village?" i said yes, and he replied "we've talked online before. you're very cute. i'll email you" and then he was gone.
what does it all mean, lord?
posted February 19, 2001 in crap, deliveryclevah
erykah badu was da bizzomb. some guy i don't know opened with a tight cover of "can't hide love" by earth, wind, and fire, followed by common with some of his good standbys and thankfully none of his homophobic ones. i feel such divided loyalties when it comes to him; it's a shame someone that good has to throw in bitch and faggot every now and then. then she came onstage, wearing platform boots, a bathrobe, and turban. as she's singing "clevah," about how because she's smart, guys think she's hot (i like it), she unwraps the turban and she's shaved her head. then the bathrobe comes off and the slinky white dress comes out. all in all the show was full of good little moments like this, and mookie and i didn't even mind the shrieking portoricueñas sitting next to us.
posted February 15, 2001 in delivery, musicchannel 4
so i hear my interview aired tonight on channel 4 in the u.k. anybody tape it over there?
on an unrelated note, i read the new criterion for the first time yesterday, picking it up in the cavalcade of free magazines on the new york-boston shuttle. business travel is fun. read these poems that i really liked:
- by frederick morgan
- by leslie norris
prelude to the afternoon of a layoff
yesterday: everyone was in the office this weekend with zip disks. we all got e-mail last night at 9pm announcing a 4pm meeting on monday–logistics to follow via voicemail. my guess is that there will be a "you're fired" room and a "you're safe" room. today: some people have kept their coats on the entire day. everyone took long lunches and is exchanging personal contact info. they disabled key card access to the main entrance, so we all have to climb the narrow back staircase to get up and down–presumably to reduce any theft concerns. some of the people getting laid off have kids, others have foreign visas that will expire in two weeks from being jobless. at least one person is pregnant. 3:15pm: we're all getting phone calls telling us which room to go to. very "road rules." then they cut off all network connectivity, which means no e-mail, no instant messaging, no file server, no printer. there's security that's been hired just for today. everyone to be laid off is sent to a conference room on the ground floor; the rest of us stay where we are and someone comes to tell us 1.) we're still hired, and 2.) get out in ten minutes so that the laid off folks can get their shit in privacy. that brings us to 4:30pm, and it's pouring snow outside. time for a beer.
posted February 05, 2001 in deliverythe only thing you get to have is change
i'm breaking my new year's resolution, but here goes: i hate weeks like this past one, where the amount of work i have combined with the shitty workplace turn me into something unlike a normal person. some of the things that kept me on track were:
- monday: hearing paula scher speak on monday about designing the identity for oola candy, joseph papp public theater, bring in da noise bring in da funk, and especially when she recounted how extensively her work got copied, her comments that as a designer, you don't have your work; the only thing you get to have is change. what a difference it makes to be mature and confident in her art, as opposed to people like me who freak out when someone even borrows my color palette.
- monday: lifting weights.
- tuesday: hearing the music in o brother, where art thou? and much later, after the movie ended, piecing together some of the odyssey allusions that felt like exercise, it'd been so long since i'd read it.
- wednesday: running into people that i barely know, but like, at miyagi. then running away from people i know better than i care to at hell, and ending up at wonderbar with more good friends, and people that i met once a year ago.
- saturday: memory lost!, nan goldin's exhibit of photos at matthew marks gallery in that neighborhood i like to call noche (north chelsea). pictures titled things like "guido with his mother, grandmother and shadow, turin 1999," and "clemens under water in tub, sag harbor 2000."
- most every day: reading drown whenever i was waiting, or at night instead of sitting in front of the computer.
- every day: friends who know who they are that helped keep it together.
key opinion metrics
lizards to tear apart
mami's time away was never discussed, then or now. when she returned to us, five weeks later, she was thinner and darker and her hands were heavy with calluses. she looked younger, like the girl who had arrived in santo domingo fifteen years before, burning to be married. her friends came and sat and talked and when papi's name was mentioned her eyes dimmed and when his name left, the darkness of her ojos returned and she would laugh, a small personal thunder that cleared the air.she didn't treat me badly on her return but we were no longer as close; she did not call me her Prieto or bring me chocolates from her work. that seemed to suit her fine. and i was young enough to grow out of her rejection. i still had baseball and my brother. i still had trees to climb and lizards to tear apart.
-junot díaz, drown
courtesy of my smart colleague at lemonyellow.com:
company offsite meeting iposted February 01, 2001 in crap, print
i'm slouching in my seat,
i'm sliding toward the floor.
more proactive values,
and further corporate lore.
my eyes are rolling back,
my neck is getting sore.
more "can-do" solutions,
dripping verbal gore.
my lids are dropping gently,
i'm glancing toward the door.
more higher level action...
just pay me something more.company offsite meeting ii
i hoped for coffee,
but didn't expect it.
in the new, new economy,
they just don't provide shit.
i dug out a pen
and scrounged for receipts.
grumbling with hunger,
i'm mourning the eats.
i thought that i'd sketch
or at least write a story
but faced with the brand,
was struck blind by its glory.
my ears are still perked
for word on my job
is every new clown
in this office named bob?
when they rolled out the structure
i got ready to scoot.
back at the office
there's plenty to loot.