Work(ing Title)

Last night people started arriving in Redmond for today’s Microsoft TechFest. The event is traditionally a private (Full-time employee only) showcase of cool things being grown by Microsoft Research, but this year ‘external’ journalists have been invited. This means I get some of the valley flying up here to my hood.

After rocking the company store, Ryan and and I met Scott, Ajay, Jeff Clavier, and last but not least my new friend Woody (seriously) for a late dinner last night at Matt’s Rotisserie & Oyster Lounge, which is a fancy-dress name for the only reasonable restaurant in the Redmond Town Center. I suppose it says something about the company one keeps when all of your aquaintances have URLS ;)

Ajay gave us some updates on his project and his recent purchases, both of which I hope to get a peek at at the end of the month when I fly down for Under The Radar. Jeff escaped shortly after Ryan and I arrived, but we were both quickly distracted by Scott’s new 50mm 1.2 lens–Oh how I long for a full-frame DSLR! Woody brought me up to speed on open container laws in the Gulf states, and Scott rounded out the night with historic tales of Burning Man (which only makes me want to go more).

An all around good evening, which managed to at least muffle the constant noise in my head and allow me some temporary happiness.

Sometimes you get little reminders of why the town you live in is lame, and how much cooler it is to live in the larger cities of the world. This morning I got a mail notifying me of what will probably be the most hilarious way to spend this Saturday night. The 1986 Ultimate Jr. High Winter Dance Re-enactment and Ricky Schroeder Appreciation Night. An evening of teased hair, ill-fitting formal wear, and 80’s music…what more could anyone ask for? How about a make-out closet, spiked punch, and a dance contest? Check.

If you’re in the city of angels this weekend, please do go so that I might live vicariously through you. I’d be buying a plane ticket today, were it not for a busy work weekend (and everything else).

I’m going to get sushi for dinner tonight for the second time this week. On the drive across the water with Wyatt to our favorite fish spot, I got a call from Julie. We don’t talk very often, but when we do I’m always extremely happy about it afterwards. I told her about a terrible time I had at Ami Sushi in Westwood this past weekend.

We traded mail later that evening, and in a style that is all her own, Julie wrote about mine and Wyatt’s theoretical dining experience:

Wyatt: What the fuck was that?! did that fish just crawl up your ass??

Jesse: From the chaffing feeling, I’d say yes. Even so, it still beats out Westwood.

The fact that there are no live fish where I eat is something only Julie’s sense of humor could make me thankful for. Tonight though, Johnny and I agree that we can hear them calling…”eat me!”

My apartment has a small balcony that for the past six months has gone completely unused. It’s too small to put out any significant furniture, and I don’t own a grill so it hasn’t become a surrogate kitchen either. During the summer it’s a good place to watch the little league games, but now that the weather has come the only purpose it serves is parachute the spare key to someone on the sidewalk below.

Walking just now to grab some food from the mess, I was thinking about the persian cafes in Westwood. They’re jammed every night and while I’ve never been in one, they appeal to me in the same way my friends’ Kasbah does; dark, warm, and just a little bit seedy. Rather than waiting to get up ther nerve the next time I’m in LA or home in the valley, I feel it’s time to build my own den.

Picture the ground covered in thick rugs and plush pillows in reds, browns, and golds. Instead of walls a billowing, loose tent-like canvas will hang around you with curtained, tassled openings that look out onto the hillside and back into the apartment. A small firepit and hookah will be supported by small end tables to hold hot cups of mint tea and small plates of hummus and olives (and whatever Persian alchohol I’ve yet to discover).

This is my project for the winter, as a way to leverage the unused space as well as that crisp Pacific Northwest climate. I’m very excited…

Wyatt and I went to the Showbox last night to see Secret Machines. They put on a great show (as always) though this time they did something new that they’re calling, “…In The Round.” Instead of setting up on the traditional stage they put three platforms for each of the boys in the middle of the floor facing each other. The rigging then created a circle around these platforms, and the crowd surrounded this construct. The end result created a lot more surface area and brought those of us on the floor much closer to the band than normal.

I would’ve had photos of this killer setup, except for learning a bit about the band’s interesting recording policy. According to the staff at the door, audio and point & shoot cameras were allowed. Because my d50 has an, “adjustable lens,” it wasn’t allowed inside. The downside here is that I couldn’t get any shots, which at past shows have looked awesome courtesy of their lighting design. The upside is in talking with the Showbox staff I’ve learned that by calling the afternoon before the show I can get the skinny and arrive with acceptable gear.

Tonight the boys from Detroit are playing at Neumo’s, so we’ll see what the newer, better-informed me can accomplish.