Saturday, February 23, 2002

19:04: Other than impending layoffs announced by the president of a company that managed to spend the equivalent of all of the bonds that Peru has issued in 73 years, and the fact that I'm living in what could nowadays be described as Foucault's nightmare, and the fact that I'm closing on the new apartment this Thursday, nothing's going on.

Friday, February 15, 2002

11:20: And why is it that i'm feeling inspired to write today? Is it because i now think i have the solution to all the problems of Latin America locked up in my head?

11:19: Entry has been removed. I'm not ready to address this yet with those who may read it and understand what it means. I guess I've found that it's better to discuss it in person before posting it for the world.

It'll return at some point. In the meantime, here's this...
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The entry has returned. It's no less true today than the day I wrote it... unfortunately I had hoped that it wouldn't have been...

So, imagine you develop an intense friendship with someone in college.

Imagine this intense friendship flounders because friend decides unilaterally that he needs so much of a break from you that he can't be bothered to say hello.

Now assume this friend, when he decides the break is over, sends you email being chatty, as if nothing happened. Then throw in the hypothetical message you might write in response, curtly answering questions without engaging in much more. Then imagine the following email you send, in which you express your hurt, with a third message saying that it's out of your system, you're ready to resume, and let the chattiness begin. Friendship resumes, all is well. Things change subtly, but they're there.

Say this friendship then, post-graduation, follows the same cycle of complete unilateral silence.

And that five years later, you receive a chatty email, recommencing everything as if nothing happened...and then you bring down the barrier long enough to send out a neutral-to-positive vibe only the be caught again in the same loop?

How do you go about reinitiating a friendship that was valuable and meaningful, that could promise to be valuable and meaningful, while not setting yourself for hearing that compliment-that's-really-a-dis, "it's just that you're such an intense person"?

11:07: Had two very vivid, unusual dreams last night. One involved my current boss crying very intensely when one of my coworkers resigned, not out of a sense of sadness but out of a sense of betrayal. Then he plotted revenge.

The other involved my living in a basement apartment in a house, with another strange lady living in the next basement over. The lady is a pack rat, reminded me of the strange woman at the Moonys' coffeeshop who quotes Seinfeld (someday I'll explain this). I seemed to have to tell my mom something very very important, but the pack rat lady couldn't find out, and my landlord was in on helping me keep her at bay...

Pack rat lady might be a stand-in for Bill, the guy who lives across the street whom I have likened to Boo Radley...

... just go ahead and ignore this whole entry...

Monday, February 11, 2002

11:55: I have fallen in love with this instrument and this woman.

And I now have a summertime project to add to the list: constructing my own (theremin, not Rockmore).

So, as it stands, the list currently contains:

• Paint the place
  
• Build bookshelves following Arts and Crafts pattern of artisanship, handcrafting, and expensive materials
  
• Replace closet doors
  
• Revamp the website
  
• Finish fixing my ebay oboe
  
• Build a theremin

Tuesday, February 05, 2002

16:58: Happy belated 100th birthday, Langston.

Sunday, February 03, 2002

23:49: Last week reminded me of days in high school when too many obligations gave me stomach problems. It reminded me of that week in college when I had three monstrous papers and a CS program due within two days.

Waking up on a Monday, getting to the office, and then discovering that you're already 15 minutes late to an enterprise Java beans class you didn't remember you had is a bad way to start a week. Adding to that the being behind in reading for school (in this, the globalization and negotiation semester), the having to be in touch with a mortgage agent who doesn't pick up his phone, the HR department that never answers the phone either, and a client who's been sitting on a project for months but decides that THIS is the week where it all must end, and you have, and it makes for what was one very welcome pint of Guinness on Thursday night.

But now I'm more at ease. I had dinner with Bob on Friday (very pleasant evening, might I add), I spent Saturday in fagulosity, spending a few hours looking at power tools, paint chips and louvered bifold closet doors for the new place. I've started putting my possessions into boxes, and took enough time to read about the growing extensity of transnational capital flows (including a blatant appearance by Eurocentric economists who seem to conveniently ignore the legacy of colonialism), and saw the Patriots win as I talked with buddy Scott and buddy Mark.

I think this week put more hair on my chest.