78 in a 55
Yeah. I got busted. I’m pissed. Not because I have to pay $141.00, but because I got caught. :p
Things to be thankful for…
Up till a few days ago, my brother’s place had no heat because the boiler wasn’t hooked up to the radiators in the house. We had those portable heaters plugged in every room in the house.
This was also the case last winter - and my brother was determined not to maintain the status quo going through the second winter. So on tuesday, he started hooking up the boiler to the radiators.
There was an amazing amount of piping to hook up. Each radiator needs two pipes, for the outgoing and return flow. At the end of the day, it resembled some sort of gigantic plastic and copper octopus.
We threw the switch and fired up the boiler for the first time. And then everything started leaking. Almost all the joints near the boiler started leaking. The dining room radiator upstairs sprang a leak.
My dad said not to worry about it. Most leaks eventually seal themselves. Emphasis on “most”.
But sure enough, after an hour or so, the leaks all stopped and after a year and half, the radiators in the house warmed up for the first time.
I found my brother in the dining room. He was absolutely stunned that it all worked. “A year of putting together plumbing and various electronic parts, hundreds of different parts, and it all just works?!”
Regularity
I should blog more regularly.
I get up every morning during the week, get dressed, have breakfast, pack my bag and walk over to the coffee house to start my day at work.
It never fails that a hour after I get to the coffee house, I have to poop. Why can’t I do it at home? I have to worry about someone stealing my laptop while I’m in the bathroom.
I could bring the laptop with me into the bathroom, but since EVERYONE there leaves their laptops sitting there while they go out and have a smoke, or go use the boys room, or whatever, I’d feel like I’m being a distrustful motherfucker if I toted the laptop into the bathroom with me. I gotta be harmonious with the community.
I haven’t taken very many pictures since I got here. Its not like I’m lacking in subjects, but just lacking in motivation.
I drive a whole lot. I dont get to walk as much as I’d like to.
Well, thats my story so far.
32 is the new 30
Okay. I’m mighty sure its not just expensive womens clothing - I went shopping for new clothes today. I wanted a new pair of “getting-ass” jeans. The kind that costs a lot of money and looks like its painted on your legs.
Now a little history. I’ve always been 140 pounds, give or take five. I’ve basically worn size 30 jeans all my life. I’ll get 31 or 32 if I want some extra room, but 30 is the flat-out minimum.
So here I am, at Bloomingdales. I pick out four pairs of jeans of different brands. Cheapest one being $160. The saleslady lets me in the dressing room where I start off with the one I like best. I pull on the jean, zip up and button off. And I stare at myself in the mirror. There’s at least a inch of loose space all around.
I’m thinking, no way. I could not have possibly went down to a 28. Discarding the jean, I pull on the next one. Again. Lots of loose space all around. The next two jeans are no better.
I pick up the jeans I came in the mall with and inspect it. GAP jeans. Size 32. Those jeans I just tried on are just the same size as this jean I’m wearing.
It dawns on me there. Of course, the high-end brands do this on purpose. They know that people come in with a size in mind. They’re going to try on their size and find it too big. And they’re going to be just besides themselves. OMG - I’ve lost weight! I can wear the next size smaller! I so totally deserve those pants, and wham bam, thank you ma’am, before they know it, its on the plastic and the jeans are in the bag and out of the store.
And what of me? I can’t find anything smaller than 30. 
Adoration of the Drag - Gallery
Yeah, I’m finally done with it. Go look.
It Snowed This Morning
The Kitchen
My brother bought a house. That Needed a Lot of Love.
It had charm, but needed a lot of paint.
A lot of other things needed to be done too.
In the meantime, he threw a few parties.
People came by and wrote on the walls.
Or even the shelves.
I stood in the kitchen one morning eating my bagel.
It’ll be a shame when renovations start on the kitchen.
For many things of deep literary and artistic merit will be lost…
So I should try to capture some of that.
Don’t you think?
Miscellanous Things
I don’t have anything specific to write about, so I’m just gonna cut loose a pseudo-random list of what’s going on.
- I’m working out of a coffeehouse. 8 hour days, sipping coffee and watching people come and go.
- This coffeehouse is next to the MCAD (art school). The patrons here are of the artistic/boehemian type.
- We’re also right in the middle of Koreatown. There are at least 10 korean, vietnamese and malaysian restaurants within a block from here.
- There’s a family sitting at the bench ahead of me. The father is tattooed, pierced and has one hell of a rat tail. He’s reading a newspaper with his wife/girlfriend, while his young son sits opposite him, reading a novel.
- I joined a gym yesterday. After two years of working out at Results, I’ve become spoiled. The gym wants to charge me $1.50 for towel rental. Sad panda.
- I woke up this morning feeling like it should be friday. It’s only wednesday.
- I drive a lot more.
- I walk a lot less.
- I’ve noticed quite a few people here have tattoo designs that incorporate the outline of the state of Minnesota.
- I miss the convinence of living three blocks away from Whole Foods. I found a natural food co-op about a mile up from here called The Wedge. The food selection is actually quite more diverse than Whole Foods, and it has a more local, including local produce/products feel. I thought WF was expensive until I checked out here…
- I ran a mile yesterday. It felt great, and I hope to start running regularly again.
- I’m nearly done with the photo edits from my night with the Four (Five, actually) Ladies.
- I want a Leica M8 and a Noctilux.
- I’m glad I’m home. I miss D.C. in some ways, but I’m also glad I’ve moved on. It should have happened sooner.
Feeling Minneapolis
After six months of talking about moving. After the farewell party. After the marathon. After a lot of packing up, driving around dropping off donated goods, and throwing out a lot of old junk. After a second, improtu farewell party. After a final night at the Cat with Ward for a beer, I was so ready to get the fuck out of D.C.
It was 2am, Ward and I were sitting at the Cat having a beer, and I told him I might just go home, throw the rest of the stuff in my car and just start driving. I didnt want to sit around any longer. Ward said to me, “Go home, get some sleep and leave in the morning.”
I didnt want to hang around. I said I’d see how I felt when I got home. I still wanted to leave right away tho.
Finishing off my beer, I bid Ward farewell and walked home and in my room. It was 2:30 a.m. and as much as I wanted to leave, I was indeed tired. I fell asleep on my bed in 1317 R St. for the last time.
9 a.m. I woke up and started packing up my car. Cramming my stuff in every open nook and cranny of my car, I managed to fit everything with just room for me to spare. I hung my two bikes off the back trunk, squatted down to look at the rear tires.
My car was definitely hanging low in the back due to all my stuff, but there was still clearance. I was good to go. I punched in my parents home address on the GPS navigation and as soon as it had plotted out a route, I hit the road.
Making my way out of DC, I hit the rolling hills of northern Maryland. I drove on.
The Penna Turnpike came up. I kept on driving. A few text messages with a friend and I found myself in Ohio. I kept on driving.
A pit stop at an gas station, where an entirely too cute young man traveling with a church group kept making eye contact with me while serenading everyone present with his guitar. I smiled back. And I kept on driving.
I thought about the days and months to come while rolling away the miles in Indiana. And I kept on driving.
I fought off fatigue by admiring the scenery in Chicago while rocking along to 104.3 FM at maximum volume. I love you guys!
Kept on driving.
Leaving Chicago behind me, with the longest single-state leg ahead of me, I pulled over at 3 a.m. to give the Passat a break while I dozed off for a few hours.
I woke up bleary eyed at 5 a.m., got myself a sandwich from McDonalds and started driving again.
Some point past Eau Claire, the sun began to come up. The sky slowly brightened from black to dark blue and pink. Early morning fog evaporated off lakes and ponds along the highway. And in my best Yoda accent, drove on, I did.
Broaching the town lines of Hudson, the Mississippii valley containing its namesake river, demarcating the border between Wisconsin and Minnesota opened up beyond me and I would soon be home. I kept on driving.
Heading through the outer suburb of Woodbury, I soon reached St. Paul, and was starting to be in very familiar territority. This was the area I grew up in.
As much as things changed, it was all still very familiar. I drove on.
Left on Cretin-Vandalia Ave. As a teenage, I called it the stupid-van exit.
Right on Marshall Ave. I’d cross the Mississippii once more. Left on River Road. I’d ridden my bike on this road countless times when growing up. I’d explored the river banks along this road for hidden treasure when a kid.
Right on 35th. Left on 44th. I was soon in front of my house.
And seemingly on cue. My dad stepped out of the house with the dog, Biscuit. He saw me and waved.
20 hours and 1120 miles later, I was home.
Day -1: Final Farewells
Its 1:37 a.m. here. I’m a day late in leaving. I didn’t really believe I would leave on time.
DC has her way of keeping you around a bit longer than you plan on.
I first came here Fall 1993, a wide-eyed freshman at Gallaudet University. My plane touched down at National Airport (I refuse to use it’s current term, Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport), and I stepped off the airplane into the hot, sticky embrace of 100 degree/100% humidity August afternoon sun.
I told myself I’d signed up for the four year plan. Graduate in four years and get back to Minneapolis as soon as the degree slapped into my hand. The fact that I hated DC the first few months I was there only served to emphasize that goal.
I stayed here 12 of the 14 years since that day I stepped off the plane and nearly melted. DC has a way of growing on you. Getting her hooks into you and you never realize how long you’ve been in her embrace until you wake up one morning and say “I’ve been here ten years!”
But I’m leaving her. I’m out of here. I’m sitting on the floor of what used to be my room. Its now just a empty space enclosed by blue walls and lined with faded brown carpet.
I’m out of here. See ya around, DC!