the river trip we just completed was tremendous and i wish i had written something about it earlier (rather than become enamored with a fresh style.css file to play with), because now the details are slipping into a general sense of what the trip encompassed, and general senses are rather difficult to write about when one has a brain like mine. but i'll do my best, as always.

waterfalls and hot springs, and sometimes both. the plop of elderberries on slow, deep water. a tent, a sleeping bag, a pillow, a wife. sunscreen and bug spray and deodorant and biodegradable soap. a perfectly cast line, and the fish!—inches and inches and inches of cutthroat trout, all tauntingly catch and release. tinder, kindling, down-and-dead wood. fire island (no relation). the unabashed horror of the scat can. the love/hate relationship with the inflatable kayak. the shock of cold water on sun-warmed skin. sore muscles. bruised hands. torn feet. pancakes and eggs and horrible little fake-meat turds almost every morning; contrast with well-smoked salmon followed by an abundance of spaghetti. river otters on the opposite bank, for which cutthroat trout are not catch and release. running to catch up with the boat. a long-overdue tan. a long, long night drive in another man's diesel truck pulling another man's trailer whose lights refused to light, attracting the attention of a nice gentleman in a dark blue suit and a black and white car who told us what a good idea it would be for us to drive two hundred-odd miles with the four-way flashers on—the same ones that would begin to make strange scraping noises very late at night. arriving home and the subsequent race for the shower. a long, sad unpacking.

and that was my exciting vacation. holiday. thingy.

my parents just returned from their own vacation holiday thingy to the uk. they mock us with their postcards. 'oh hello, landlocked americans. today we got lost in camden town market, had fish and chips in a pub, and had high tea with h.m. the queen herself! also we got take-away, took the tube, and went to the loo. tomorrow we're going to formally separate from the roman catholic church. cheerio, fatties!'

damned tourists.


i'm only beginning to understand the bbc radio version of douglas adams' hitchhiker series. it's so superlatively different from the book after about the sixth episode that following it becomes a chore (albeit a very enjoyable one, due in part to the fact i am strangely attracted to lintilla's voice) for my book-familiar memory. and why have i not yet seen the movie? the answer to that is unknowable.


dear anyone: we must play risk.

so far this week my paternal grandmother fell and utterly broke her ankle, and my maternal grandmother's appendix ruptured. one of hers fell and (broke? merely injured?) a hip, and another was in a car accident. it makes a guy think. I can't hope to be young forever, but I do hope that when I get old I do so gracefully and without much whining or excessive passive-aggressiveness.

today marks the end of finals week for the school I used to attend (and to which I still live very close), which means that my taunts of 'oh, you're still in school, aren't you?' are completely ineffectual for the next three months, and for some people, never again. lucky you, nerds. summer used to mean happiness and long days of sunshine; now it means work and getting my sunshine through windows. in my dreams I'm not merely immortal but perpetually twenty-two in a world where everything's free. I'm vaguely aware that something in this paragraph contradicts something in the previous one, but only vaguely.

a year ago today (tonight, I suppose) I was watching the transit of venus semi-live on the inter-net. as I recall it was the night before a final I did altogether well on. post hoc, ergo propter hoc? perhaps we'll never know.

my sister's boyfriend groks drew. he's even an avid reader. this is a Bad Thing and I'll tell you why: he could be a horrible person, a murderous boy band-listening drug-dealing baby-eating paris hilton-loving nazi, or a dentist, yet I would still like him solely because he likes drew.

all right he's none of those awful things. the point I'm trying to get across is that JEN you must marry him, it is now your highest calling in life to make sure his genes get carried on.

seriously now. on the day I met him, I also saw him—through the magic of 1980s-era video recording equipment—in a diaper. he could laugh at himself and that's a good sign. also jen we have it on tape that you are not the angelic angel that you (for some reason) remember yourself to be. here it occurs to me that you are the reason I have never enjoyed christmas.

anyway. conclusion: from the little I've seen he's a good person and funny, so whatever makes you happy makes me happy. and I think he makes you happy. but I ceased having to be your big brother a long long time ago, when I realized you could beat up any boy in school (myself excluded).



audrey tautou is going to be in the movie'd da vinci code. think of the implications: very soon there will be more audrey tautou posters in the world. it is cold outside but my heart is profoundly warm.



POP QUIZ
donald rumsfeld consistently looks

a. utterly confused
b. ridiculously squinty
c. drunk/hung over
d. jet lagged
e. all of the above.

(the answer is the one you might expect.)


it recently came to my attention that to my transatlantic cohorts, the word 'wanker' is far more offensive than I had been led to believe. having previously called a few of them wankers (though without malice and honestly in good humor), I feel the need to apologize.

I apologize.




…

at night I lie awake in bed never less than an hour. never.

if I could change one thing about myself, would this be it?

tonight, I can't think of anything else.

in the original draft of kerry's concession speech was the line 'I want to thank my wife, teresa, without whose billions of dollars this hair would not have been possible.'

har.

someone (not me) said to someone (me) recently, regarding the election: 'we are watching it with the distracted attention that one might watch a car-crash in progress. i myself have little hope for a happy ending.' you and the rest of the world, that is. was. whatever.



it's getting to be that time of year again. that really, really expensive time of year. so: does anyone know what women want for christmas? … specifically, does anyone know what my wife wants for christmas? I mean, something that I can put on my current credit card, not something that requires me to go see vinny the loan shark or to get a mortgage. or both; vinny doesn't offer very competitive rates on mortages.


a recent interview turned into a skills test turned into tomorrow's second interview. government job is still up in the air. wife's second interview has been and gone and we still await the result. wife also turned down the pseudo-volunteer position, which would have paid her $850/month (crap) for the next eight months (crap) with very very few days off (very crap). it's a trying time for us. SISTER if you're reading this don't tell mom, we think that telling people the last time bollocksed it up for us last time. can I work for you?


everyone please join me in my hatelife disillusionment.

I'm tempted to begin writing stories en masse again, something I basically haven't done since I started jobbin'. it was always therapeutic for me, and I wonder if that added stress reliever would be worth its time. and there was a lot of time involved. why am I telling you this? there is insufficient data for a meaningul answer.

things get mixed up in my head. when I do something for an extended (or short but intense) period of time, any sort of stimulus I'm getting at the time is tied to that action. then, whenever I experience that stimulus again later, I'm reminded of whatever it was I was doing. I just thought you all should know because the stove light keeps randomly turning itself on, and the last time that kept happening was the last time I did some serious writing.

this weekend my sister and my wife simultaneously took up crocheting.

today they were very crochety.

just watched 'super size me.' as wife is my witness, I am never eating at mcdonald's again. ever.

also, my niece is cute.

check that, my niece is THE CUTEST MAMMAL IN THE UNIVERSE.



cuter even than baby doom.

every day is the day you realize you forgot an important birthday. in my case, it's my sister's birthday. what kind of brother am I? the answer is NOT A GOOD ONE.

I called her today and apologized. she forgave. we talked and laughed. nothing like the olden days of older brotherly pesterance. I'm so glad I'm not young anymore. it really is nice when sibling = friend. I hope it stays this way for a long, long time.


slashdot karma decreasing daily. we might not survive this. however: THANK YOU /. for proving again and again that I am not the nerdliest human living. not by a long shot.


financial situation can only get better. I know this because if it gets any worse I'll be living in a cardboard box and I've promised myself that will never happen.


red bull is yellowish. I've never come across yellow bull but if there's any justice in the world it must be red.

… how strange. I'm reduced to talking about colors of freaking beverages in this so-called journal of mine. something must change and that thing is me.



if writing insubstantial posts is cool, then I'm miles davis.


LAPTOP I will miss you when you're gone. we'll always have the good times to remember, though. like that one time when I typed that really funny thing using your keys. that was a good one. or that time that I used you to find out my grade in that one class. that wasn't so good, but I'll remember it nonetheless. or that one time I bought you on eBay. of all the times we've shared together, that certainly was one of them.


insight: quality of this post is falling.


I'll just be hitting the 'post' button now.