Work(ing Title)

Well that was fun.

Less than a month go, a freak post-Thanksgiving snowstorm turned my new neighborhood into an automotive skate rink. Sliding my car during the California rainy season apparently prepared me for getting to work, only to turn around and work from home.

Now flash forward to Thursday afternoon. The rain was falling hard and a high wind advisory was in effect until Friday morning. Wyatt and I got in the car to get groceries from the Trader Joe’s less than three miles from our apartment. On the way to TJ’s we saw I think three cars with their owners sitting on their roofs, trapped in flooded bits of road.

After getting our food and sloshing through traffic, we were two hours deeper into the storm and the wind was picking up. While we ate dinner and watched some tv the power started to stutter a few seconds at a time, at which point I unplugged non-critical electronics (read: the Wii and Mac Pro).

The wind started to wail loud enough to raise our heart rates, and so we geared up to go outside. Wyatt threw on his foul weather gear, while I put on a shirt, tie, and suit jacket and grabbed my camera. We walked down to Juanita Beach, pausing to lean forward on our toes and have the wind hold us upright.

We sprinted down the path past the beach to avoid getting our faces sandblasted. With the waves crashing over the retaining wall I had Wyatt man the camera while I did my best to report the weather. On our way back we passed a pre-teen on a razor scooter whose parents must have already blown away.

Getting back into our apartment, I quickly determined that the weather report we shot wasn’t what the broadcast professionals would call ‘visible’ or ‘audible’, and continued to veg out. Shortly after Wyatt went to bed, around 01:00 on Friday morning, the whole room went black and stayed that way. I took a quick shower and got in bed, only to wake up to my alarm clock six hours later to an utter lack of electricity.

I got my car and headed to work, driving gingerly past blacked-out traffic lights and generally moving slowly in order to appreciate the damage. Everywhere I looked there was debris and various pieces of trees, from piles of branches blocking sidewalks to entire 40 foot pines fallen against the sides of houses. My commute to the office took about an hour (which is only about 15 minutes longer than the average and yet another demerit for this area), only to find my entire building was out of commission.

I went on a search for petrol that ultimately proved fruitless, getting home around noon. I unplugged all of our gear and then set about all the energy-free tasks I have a bad habit of putting off. I cleaned the entire kitchen and prepped laundry and mail shredding.

After Wyatt got home I rewired our entertainment equipment while he assembled all our candles. Once the sun went down and the clock reached about 18:00, we geared up to head across the lake in my thirsty car. Seattle thankfully had power and was otherwise just clogged with traffic. I got gas, dropped him off to meet Marlo, and went to get sushi with Mr. Drenning. We did some cafe relaxing and then returned to the House of Goza, where it became clear I would be staying.

Wyatt and I drove back to our place yesterday afternoon to find a freezing-but-lit apartment. I slammed the heaters into overdrive, taking advantage of the 72 hour deficit in our energy bills. Everything seems back to normal now, though January’s only a couple weeks away :P

Just saw The Incredibles at PIXAR. I didn’t type the name because it’s tremendous, I typed it that way because it’s proper.

Fantastic movie, both in story and in technics. The story was the most entertaining one yet, with great writing and characters. Voice acting on the parts of Holly Hunter and Jason Lee was excellent.

Being on the list at PIXAR was surreal. Nestled right off the freeway, across the street from Emeryville Civic Center, the gate commands a significant presence. Their’s is quite possibly the most beautiful corporate campus in history. Formerly the Del Monte Cannery, the wide open space has been finished in the most exquisite hardwood and brick.

The main area was decorated with production illustrations, character sculptures, and even family photos of the Incredibles on honeymoon and other such cute bits. We were able to wander the halls after the show and take in every little sketch.

Finally, this evening has been so special that I want to thank some people. Thank you two Fruitshop and Bonkie for joining me on such a ubercool geek outting. Thank you to Johann for sharing your tiny bed so I could have the energy to stay up for this and to Sndgeek for being the name in the credits I am so proud to know.

Finally, thank you Dad for extending your invitation. You are the best and I love you.

First off, here is the Google Local entry, which will allow you to generate directions.

Second, we should try to get there around 10pm. I may be running a bit behind, but I don’t want to hold up the party train. I recommend that the first three of y’all to arrive should grab a table for six.

Third, I recommend bringing about US$40 to allow for food, drink, and of course skeeball!

Finally, for those who are interested in carpooling, feel free to decend upon the Apple Store and you can ride with me.

A few hours before my flight back to the West Coast (can’t wait to see ya Snoop) and a few things have come into focus.

I’m standing in a concrete tube, waiting for a Metro train, and inspiration has hit me in the face.

First, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live in the east for very long. The weather here, spectacular or shitty, is laced with a humidity that leaves me moist at all times. Placing the premium I do on feeling dry and clean on my way out into a new day, the almost post-coital glow my skin develops only moments after stepping from air-conditioning so prevelant it feels like the only real oxygen left is unacceptable.

Most of you know I am prone to perspiration at the drop of a hat, so the frequency with which I have wiped sweat from my forehead or lifted my arms in an attempt to peel my shirtsleeves from my body is utterly horrendous. My friends out here try to tell me that it’s all relative, and that most times it’s a lot worse, and that I’ll grow accustomed to it–Bollocks.

Second, I am somewhat pleased to have returned to a world where people smoke in bars. California has become a whiny, liberal bastion of minority rule, and the reek of nicotine on my clothes after a long evening through the bars has realigned my perception. No one should be so unfortunate as to have all avenues for their legalized addiction taken from them.

When did it become the goal for those with a more socially-accepted chemical apetite to be able to enjoy it in serenity? The scenario in your average bar: spilled beer, sweaty patrons, and screaming music, is not a peaceful environment, and I believe that the sooner the smokers aren’t allowed to be smokers in these places, the sooner we turn down the music, open up some windows, and start using coasters.

I mean for fuck’s sake, isn’t the smell of stale cigarette smoke and whiskey what made this country great?

Alex and I met last night for dinner at Chipotle. Food there is so utterly flaverful, I have had to order a second bowl to quench my taste buds. I don’t feel particularly hungry upon arriving, but the flavor is so incredible that I find myself plunking down another seven bucks and picking up another fork. I finished eating at around 2200 and I still haven’t become hungry, almost 15 hours later.

When I went there for the first time last summer it was apparent to me very quickly their brilliant recipe for success. These folks had decoded the In-N-Out genome, offer a few menu items and prepare them perfectly, and reapplied it to Mexican food.

Alex and I discussed this issue of mine while we ate, and we concluded that we must hold back on how often I eat there. As of last night the agreement is twice a month, though I feel I may pull back to once a month.

More interesting than the frequency restriction however, is my decision to pose the ultimate American question, “How much?”

Every month, I will sit down at Chipotle, and every month I will attempt to eat one more burrito bol than the month before. July will call for three rounds, August will present a formidible challenge with four, and September looms with five.

It’s going to be quite a summer.