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5 December 2008
When reflecting on what I wanted to say about the end of last month, I read the first in this series, written in 2003. It started: It’s that time again—when I stay awake for 98, 73, 61, 55, and so on hours on end, barely snatching sleep in car rides provided on someone else’s dime as they’re worried I’m too far beyond needing sleep to safely maneuver a motor vehicle on my own … .
25 February 2008
There are very few things that sour my tone to a shade of violent: talking to my mother about money and anybody about the lack of support for a LAMP infrastructure at HIR are the two of those; PC hardware troubleshooting is a third cause of stress, compounded by the data obliteration.
16 January 2008
After discovering tongue-in-groove flooring and having Dave bring his circular saw to my apartment, I now have the beginnings of the baseboard compact disc storage I sketched. It’s neither stained nor bracketed yet, but even as a freestanding configuration of jewel cases and unfinished pine, it’s a marvel of efficiency.
30 May 2007
If you’re looking through a newspaper for either an apartment or a soulmate, chances are you’re not going to find much worthwhile.
I lost a third apartment yesterday to “an earlier application” (though I admit this time I actually believe it) and let another promising lead evaporate today. What’s strange is that as I am more deeply in the market for rentals, I’m finding that the pursuit for a decent apartment and a significant other are fraught with similar pitfalls—problematic conformity, lowered expectations, and of course, dealbreakers.
11 April 2007
I had tried, or I should say, I am still trying and writing and researching and conversing and attempting to construct a narrative that somehow casts the activities of my European vacations and the months between as myth and metaphor, a microcosm of the improvisational information architecture, anomalies of sociology, and decline of western civilization in the first decade of the 21st century. Given the pretentious mess that promises to be, this chapter of my pop-music autobiography may be the closest thing to a straight narrative of my week’s sojourn in Brussels and Paris, 11-19 November 2006, I might extract from that unwieldy text.
31 January 2007
With as much consternation as there’s been about the dubious connection between the ‘creative class’ and recent ‘urban renaissance’ (and the consequent gentrification that follows irregardless), has there been any consideration given to zoning in this debate? While developers build condominiums with hesitant and ornamental ‘industrial character’ like a decorative sprinkle of cheap paprika, the prospect of inhabiting a residence with authentic industrial character is surprisingly daunting here in Washington because, lo, though they appear to be charming brick rowhouses in a Victorian style, they happen to be founded on land zoned ‘light industrial’ and therefore are not for residential use.
10 December 2005
I had returned to my apartment to prepare some sandwiches and obtain some fruit for a long, early morning at the office and was on my way back to the Ford House Office Building when, as I stepped the icy 4th Street sidewalk before the I-395 underpass, I was approached by a middle-aged white woman […]
2008 December 25
Though I completed this chapter of my pop music autobiography in late September, a few weeks into my first semester at Georgetown, only now in the more apparent denouement of my existential crisis do I feel compelled to write its intentions, framed in the context of two gifts I received in November.
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