A million years ago on a date that consisted of passing a bottle of wine back and forth in Prospect Park, my interlocutor said of her decision to come out, “Why do I need an excuse to hang out with a boy whose life is an open book in the internet?” Since then, everyone has started pretending that their life is an open book on the internet, but the whole thing has been sort of obfuscated and branded and is kind of horrible. Partly as a reaction to this decline, and partly because I think it is probably the only way that I’ll ever start writing here consistently, this is going to start including a lot of really boring diary stuff. Excelsior!
So as you know I am the sort of person who, left to their own devices, will take about 3 showers per day during the summer. Lest you think that this is the sort of indolent shit a fellow gets up to when he works from home, I’ll have you know that when I was in the business my summer shower regimen ran to three instances before heading in to work. The point is, however, than today I 1) had neglected to shower immediately before bed and 2) had laundry to do, so I waited until I had clean clothes. When I finally managed to ablute myself it was seriously the most remarkable experience I’ve had in recent memory. The message here is that I’m totally right about everything.
I know, right? So what has been happening? Well, as mentioned elsewhere, it was my birthday recently and C and I travelled to San Francisco to celebrate it. While the most obvious addition to my life upon returning to the Northwest was an infected cat bite, there have also been some subtler changes.
Living in Portland and spending time with C, who is an inveterate cocktailer has dulled my palate for wine considerably. For a long time I was more or less okay with this (note that this is at least in part because said palate is still remarkably sophisticated), but after dinner at Absinthe, I’m reversing my course on this one. Cocktails are fine, but I am totally over drinking them with dinner. That shit is for savages.
We also spent a fair amount of time at SFMOMA one day, and The Palace of the Legion of Honor the next. Portland has a very nice art museum, of course, but it doesn’t have a lot of the high-modern stuff, the supremacy (Suprematy?) of which, unlike wine, is something C and I agree about vehemently. It’s nice that I always end up at SFMOMA with artists.
On the plane home I finally finished Seven Pillars of Wisdom, and returned to The Line of Beauty, which I had laid aside while ago, having not found myself particularly engaged. I think that something about the trip put me in the mood for the high Hollinghurst style, and I have been enjoying it immensely. Now that Amis has retired to xenophobic avuncularity, it may be the case that Hollinghurst is England’s best practicing author. Obviously that’s not the best novel of the second half of the century of the novel, but it’s not nothing either.
The upshot of all of this is that I think it’s time for me to return to snobbery. I am planning on going out less but bringing much more decadent things into the house. Time to get my damn culture back.
I feel a little ambivalent about this, but this break was probably the highlight of my test. It was a little uncertain that I’d be able to arrange people properly, and I hadn’t previously broken any boards with a chop. The breaks only at the end, but I like all of this because even without being able to hear what’s going on, I think it gives a sense of the community at the school. Also, there’s a bit of a funny when I accidentally break one of the boards while I’m getting things set up.
I think some important stuff happened with this test.