Archive for August, 2009

Triple Shot.

My roommate told me that he’d give me up before he’d give up cigarettes and he doesn’t even smoke.


I used to buy swedish fish for a penny each at the corner pharmacy. I’d just reach in and grab out a few, toss some pennys on the counter and be on my way. They were always stale. I am thoroughly against “good ol’ days” ruminations, but if I weren’t, I’d bring this story up far more often.


I had a music teacher in Paris who when I walked in the first day he said to me, “What’s your name and what are we working on?” I explained that I was a new student, Tim, and I had no assignments yet. He said, “Great!” and got me started on choral analysis of Bach chorals. The next week, I came in, same questions, “What’s your name and what are we working on?” Bach chorals. The week after, “What’s your name and what are we working on?” And then each week after for months, “What’s your name and what are we working on.” When it came time for grading at the end of the year, my report simply said, “I have no recollection of having ever seen a student with that name.”

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caught and now.

caught in a swell of yesterdays and tomorrows.

there’s many more than one each day.

we saw moments that lasted through so many yesterdays and last nights.

tomorrow seems so surreal now.

and that now is caught up in an always of both.

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yoga yoga yoga.

For those of you whom I have yet to meet, my non-cyber life is supported by teaching yoga (among a few other odds and ends). This past weekend, I found myself surrounded by lights, cameras and half-built sets in a huge loft space in Chicago’s downtown with my dear friend and photographer extraordinaire, Jane, who collaborated with me on some promotional photos for my up-and-coming site.

I thought I’d share a few of these.

For this last shot, I asked her what stage of enlightenment it looked like I was in. She said that as I was having her take pictures of me meditating, probably not that high…

I liked my little brick corner.  I hope you do, too.

Thank you to Ms. Jane Jennings Gaspar. Check out her blog here, and her site here.

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Please excuse my absence. I had to partake in a rescue mission to Ohio. There has to be some adage about not going to Ohio from California… or about not going to Ohio in August, and if so, this fine gent hadn’t learned it yet.

He is now safe again in the warm embrace of a late Chicago summer.

And just to round out the number to four of big fat midwestern states we visited in a day, we stopped in Michigan for a quick glimpse of the lake from the other side and a surprisingly bad dinner. 

But then again, we ate to this at our side…

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I was in a discount card shop and I found a set of four crayons that said, “Four Great Crayons!  The Best Colors!!!!”


I was trying to get a scoop of peach pie today and as I transfered it from the pan to the plate, it slid off server and onto the ground.  It splattered all over.  The first thought in my head was “protagonist faces conflict.”


Last night, I dreamt that I was photoshopping pictures that I had taken in a dream the night before.

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I once had a job restocking shelves from 10 p.m. to sunrise.  At the end of each shift, my manager would ring a bell and shout, “Everything’s in stock, the only thing we’re out of is our mother fucking minds!” He’d be screaming this shaking his head with his jaw loose, always drooling a little. The bell was an old gold dinner bell and loud enough to be heard through all of the fluorescent aisles — not just heard, you’d have to plug your ears.  It always made the sunrise over the empty parking lot that much more enjoyable.

At Christmas time, we’d still have to listen to the same Sinatra jingles CD on loop, despite the lack of customers.  To this day, when I hear it, my knees get a little week and my finger-nails dig into my palms.

I’d run through conversations in my head about what would happen if one of the non-existent customers ever asked me a question about what isle the frozen dinners were in and I’d send her to the fruit and vegetable aisle. I loved doing that. I’d always send them to the fruit and vegetable aisle. Take that suckers, PEARS.

It’s times like this that lunch and dinner become something you used to do, when you reach for burnt coffee before you think to open your eyes, when you forget to have any relationships at all.  At the time I thought the only person I could trust was my manager and his bell, and he’d come through every time, smiling wiping the drool off his sleeve. I was too tired to be sad and too exhausted to think about changing anything.

There was one day I left and Carina was outside with a cup of coffee.  She said she couldn’t believe she had gotten up that early. I told her that I couldn’t believe it either. She took me to breakfast and it was weird to sit and eat, and order off a menu. I have to chose what I want? It required more thought than I had put into anything for a while.

She told me an omelette would do me good, that I could use the protein. She ordered for me and got me an orange juice, too.

I think I slept that night, and I don’t think I went back to work anymore.

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roll it up.

i’ve eaten more sushi with this woman than could fit in the sea of japan.

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