Hither and Yon

I have somehow ended up being the sort of person who is always doing all kinds of stuff. I’ve had a shocking dearth of evenings where I lay on my bed with my hand on my forehead and think about emptiness or whatever.

Here is a picture of C looking very maudlin, despite having some delicious pizza from Sizzle Pie.

Here are C and I goofing off with my camera’s lens cap.

If I look a bit like Rob Ford, it’s because I’d come back from class not so long before these were taken.

Here is C looking rawther dramatic.

Las weekend C and I decided riding the North Coast Scenic Railroad would be a fun day trip. We went to Girabaldi and discovered that our visit coincided with the town festival, Girabaldi Days. There was a little parade, but I didn’t get any pictures because we were at a little cafe eating turkey roasted on the premises. The train ride was charming. We were sad to have to come home, as we always are when we’ve been out at the coast.

A Pair of Ragged Claws

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.

Leon Takes Us

After work I decided to go up the hill to get out of the house a bit, and ended up at Slow Bar. I guess that happens when you’re as tall as I am.

After having a delicious hamburger I came home and wrestled with Markov Garden. Things were going okay until I realized that something’s off with the JSON that I’m getting from the parser, and it’s deserializing into something other than what I want. Here’s how I expressed that in a commit message.

The table that we’re getting turns into something a little off, so I think it’s going to have to involve more explicit hand-massaging.

So. . . that was pretty dorky.

Stories

I had too much hair, it was keeping my up at night.

So I cut some of it off.

Later I got dressed. This is the latest in an ongoing series called “Joaquin looks like either a settler or a skinhead, depending on when he shaved last.”

So vanity, but also change. I’ve really kind of gotten into a rut in terms of my relationship with time, and I’m looking for excuses to kind of jar myself into shape. Aside from Temboo and yard-work I’m so scattered that I’m better off avoiding doing anything, rather than starting it and then forking off onto some other activity (which form Markov Garden inevitably means stupid distraction-oriented internet use.) I need to figure out some way to make myself feel more monastic. If only I had a bell!