Forlorn & Land

"She thought that things always happened around her, but without letting her touch them directly. Life flowed around her, like a stream flows around a solitary rock, which, no matter how much it wanted to, was unable to see anything upstream or downstream from it."

This is from the novel The Alchemy of Stone, by Ekaterina Sedia. This line pretty much screams "stars-in-her-eyes" chick-lit, but it somehow speaks to me. I'm sure everyone has felt this at one time or another, but the feeling never got too far past me. The book is labeled "steampunk," which bothers me for some reason, but it is a Victorian England-like city with a feud among the Mechanics, the Alchemists and the workers in between. The Mechanics have created Automatons, one of which is the highly intelligent Mattie, the "she" referred to in the quote. The character is a typical woman trying to find herself, including her desire to get back her key, which is used to regularly wind her. The keyhole, by the way, is located in the middle of her chest. This might sound very amateur, but I loved everything about it. From the coming-of-age aspect, to the Victorian "Sweeny Todd"-esque city the story takes place in. There's something to be said about very simple, even juvenile, storytelling that can make the most basic anxieties we face, manifest.

Oceanic Hate-1-5

Dan Simmons is quickly becoming a favorite of mine.  Hyperion & its' sequel are minor classics, The Terror is aptly titled & his short stories are pretty good.  His main flaw is, well, he writes too much.   A more ruthless editor could improve his books.  In the intro to one of his stories, he quotes another writer that stated how people can be broken down into two groups; sea people and mountain people (where does this leave Kansas?).  I'm not sure if this concept has been said before but it kind of blew me away in it's simplicity.  Mountains can be seen as solid monoliths of history, unchanging for years.  Impressive from a far, they can hold loads of surprises within all their corners and crevices. 

The sea is also admired from a far, but it's not really possible to casually explore it.  Seas are ever changing, no drop of water remains in the same spot.  The horizon is limitless and virtually unreachable.  

I guess I can safely say that I'm a mountain person.  I can sit and look at a mountain range forever, imagining what every area of the surface looks like up close.  The sea is too big, too vast and too intimidating for me, much like the night sky full of stars was for me as a kid.  I can appreciate both, but the range is what I'd prefer. 

There's also a way of classifying people using either Beatles and Elvis, or Law & Order and CSI.  You can like them all, but you'll always choose one over the other.  (Personally, I'm a Beatles and Law & Order guy).

FireFall

by Jeff Sullivan

I'll be hanging out in Yosemite in May and I just wanted to post this.  There's a fall named Horsetail Fall that every early spring, only a few times a year and for a few minutes, the sun sets and only catches the falling water and not the rock surrounding it.  I probably won't be able to see it myself since I'm going later and apparently you have to hike and then camp overnight to catch it.  But here's hoping I can take pictures half as good as this.

A Disquiet Follows My Mews

I've moved.  I use to be in a basement but now it's an attic.  (The dude near the roof isn't me).  There's carpet, high ceilings, balcony with a fabu view of Ballston Mall and it's hordes of teens & white earbuds.   There's also no mutant roaches.  I think my next entries will just be bullet points:

• Haven't seen Watchmen, cuz I'm scared
  
• Read some short stores by Jeffery Ford & went thru the usual moods of inspiration, envy & bitterness
• Planning a party viewing for BSG's last episode with everyone I know who watches it...so, it's by myself
• Helping my office move down the street 4 months in advance & I smell like cardboard. 
• 
  
• ,
• ,
• ,

The Year of Living Meekly

The summer has been swell, and I'm not talking about my feet. After wringing my hands about moving I realized that my immediate path in life is determined by whether I'll still have a job in the next year. I'm staying in the cozy room that over looks dirt. (needless to say, it's cheap). Having been used to temping in offices and traveling with my earnings, I now want to stay in my dead-end job. The benefits and vacations days are phenomenal (god, I sound old). My law firm fired over 100 people in NY and they've now told us we won't be getting our Christmas bonus.  At home, the guy who set up the internet skedaddled and I can't really set it up since I have no cable or phone jack.  The year 2007 blew serious ass and 2008 is alright but 2009 is looking as hopeful as any child character from a Henry James novel. Taking time away from the next mutant roach in my room, I snuck away to New York City for a few days and I've made this conclusion: I would never live in New York City (although it's nice to visit). I actually thought of going to Hunter College or Brooklyn College in high school but I my patience for attitude would probably be less than what it is now. Well, with the new year beating down the door, I'm actually considering going to Spain in the spring, something I've wanted to do for, like, ever. Speaking of trips, I'll actually be starting my travelogue at http://vandalhandle.blogspot.com/

so go see what's that about.  And I promise to keep this regular and positive...

Too Girl for My Blood

Another month, another chance to flirt with getting the hell out of the Mekong Delta of an apartment.  Despite making a decent living doing nothing of note, I can't live on my own, so, "to the roommate-search machine!"   I now know why the prospect of Hillary being president was not that prescient to a lot of women, because THEY ALREADY HAVE ALL THE HOUSING.  And they're not too open to living with this dude, and I don't blame them; even guys won't call me back.  Seriously, search on craigslist for a roommate in "Crystal City" and the word FEMALE is on 70% of the listings.  That is until you find this certain ad, which I'll reprint here and insert my own snide, immature observations (italicized, y'all)

Available August 1st. 

My Lifestyle: 
*Active in the public BDSM social, educational, and play scenes (educational?)
*Enjoys having guests over once in a while (I bet)
*Prefers NOT to have a TV or microwave in the house (who needs the distraction...or radiation)
*Takes weekend trips (e.g. Shenandoah) (that's in the middle of the woods)
*Often involved in the arts scene (of course) 
House: 
*Secure and very safe for women (unless you don't want it to be) 
*2 spacious and nice bedrooms with nice views and lots of closet space (...) 
*Large, built-in mirrors on walls of first floor really open up the space, making the sizable living-dining area feel even larger
*All first floor windows are floor-to-ceiling (to the delight of the neighbors)
Neighborhood: 
*Charming and quiet neighborhood, reminiscent of Southern California in the 50’s or 70’s (ah, remember the whippings?)

How I am with people: 
*Excellent reader of people (he'd have to be)
*Able to make people laugh (or else)
*Hoping to move in with someone who becomes a new friend 
*A very nice, caring person (upon request)


Thank you! 

3rd St & G St SW

Crystal City Coot

We all have one.  The neighborhood bum that stalks the streets of our friendly burgs.  I have at least 5 and by the smell of it, they all use the underground tunnel under Rt. 1 as their bathroom.  But my favorite is the one with his whole life in a cart and usually parks himself in front of the Metro station escalator with a mini radio squeaking away.  He spends his time writing.  All over everything.  If you walk around the area, crossing Eads St., going up Fern, across 18th St., you'll find bits and pieces of paper, flyers, signs, full of his blocky, Sharpie scrawls.  They seem like a random string of words and phrases, parsed from newspaper headlines or radio broadcasts.  But I imagine that if I just take pictures of all these scraps, they piece together into some puzzle that, upon solving, could actually spell out the meaning of life.  Or maybe his writings don't go beyond what he blurted out to me personally this morning on my way to work, 

"Sissy bitch Pentagon Dog!!" 

Ladies and gentleman, this blog may have found a new title.

(Note: Foto is of my favorite bum in Rome.  He was British and his dog had one eye)