Some news! My sister (above) somehow scammed her way into this New York City diploma-mill popularly known as "Columbia University." Seriously though, this is exciting stuff. She's definitely moving out there along with her man Scott, and is still waiting to hear from some other schools, but Columbia's MFA Writing program is, as they say, prestigious. So things are looking good. I always knew she'd pass me on the achievement ladder one of these days, dammit.

Also, somewhat selfishly, this is a great reason to get back east more often. I can feel the sweet embrace of her couch already.

For my part, I spent Sunday - Wednesday down and back to the Bay area. It was all business, so not that much fun, but I got the work done and for the first time I tried my new plan of bringing the bike with me and using that to get around the city. Weather was lovely, and it worked out great until I got hit by a car in Oakland: some kid who was already fleeing a hit-and-run with a parked car. I'm fine and so's my machine, but it was close to being awful. Ironically, one of the bits of business I was dealing with was filing for our company health insurance. Cheap thrills.

On the five-hour drive back, I thought a lot about this whole urban/rural living thing I have going on. I've been missing NYC a lot lately, and I've also been pondering what it would take to make living here more sustainable. Girl(s), obviously, but there's also a level of peer-review that I miss, a community of people who I share some ambitions with.

It's proving harder to make those kinds of connections. I don't really do that well at meeting new people without a context, and it's a smaller pool. People seem private though. I don't know if it's just the way of country life, or if, as someone recently pointed out, there are proportionately more people here who are stoned out of their minds at any given point.

It's raining!

This is a pretty good thing, as the winter out here has been exceptionally dry (and cold). Rivers running low, etc. Out where I live water isn't a problem per-se, but farmers and other folks in drier parts of California have been stressing it.

I'm also headed down to SF this weekend. Probably drive down Friday morning and back on Sunday. Got to do a little business and mind-melding, and Moammar's got a clean bill of health from the mechanic, so I feel good embarking on the trip.

Last night went out to a kick-ass rock show at the Logger Bar in Blue Lake. It was fantastic in many ways.

First of all, the music was good! The headlining group was Orange Sunshine, from the Netherlands:

The problem with music in the late 60's was the hippy shit, right? The goddamn peace and love stuff, the acoustic folkies, the going-to-San-Francisco-with-flowers-in-yr-hair.
But what if the 60's were as wildly murderous a time as these strange days? What if it was ALL Charlie Manson and napalm and muddy drugfreak people and Up Against the Wall, Motherfucker? Well, then, there'd only be, like, 5 bands left standing- the Stooges, the MC5, Hendrix, Blue Cheer, and Orange Sunshine.

They were well supported by Ghengis Khan from Oakland (no link, sorry) and notable locals The Ravens. It was all good loud, driving, rock and roll. Orange Sunshine and Ghengis Khan featured singing drummers (always a strong configuration when it works), and the Ravens frontwoman Melissa Medina is channeling some serious shit.

The Logger Bar is also a great place to have a show. It's big enough to actually have a show in, but small enough that it feels full even when 1/2 the crowd hasn't shown up yet. It's also covered with ancient logging paraphernalia, like giant esoteric chainsaws and pickaxes. They serve 24oz cans of Pabst and although the two sturdy women behind the bar could have used a barback, it worked out ok.

And finally, everyone was there. It had the feeling of public life that I've been craving, and there were also girls (hooray, girls!).

Yeah, so a good time was had by all. My neck is sore today. Kudos to Kelly B for doing such a great job of organizing it. Hopefully this will happen more often.

Just pulling something out of my last post which I found real interesting upon re-reading, the phrase public life.

If there's one real huge difference between living here in Humboldt County versus New York City, it's how small the public sphere seems to be. I'm sure this will be a contrast anywhere else I live, but there's a way in which the spatial restrictions and density of the city adds a decidedly public character to much of life.

Most of your time, on average, is spent outside your home. You socialize in public places and because of the genial nature of eyes on the street and because no one drives anywhere, you can get drunk in public with little fear for life or limb.

Here it's very different. Life is more private for more people -- you can spend six months at Westhaven and never really go out, still be happy -- and for that do head out, the band of experience that really passes for "public" is somewhat narrower.

This creates an interesting situation for me. While I'm hardly a gadfly or a social-climber, I do enjoy the kind of energy and interactions that come from having a public profile. I'm also very much a newbie, and finding the right scene in which to see and be seen is on my TODO list for sure.

Anyway, more gozo later. Just thought it was an interesting and revealing turn of phrase.

So as you know I got a pickup. I got insurance. I gotta get it once-overed again by a local mechanic and go to the DMV, but basically I'm in business.

Here's the proof:

Thus far the effects have been that I've gone to the gym five times in a row, gotten groceries thrice, and cooked dinner twice -- all way up over last years numbers. Whether or not this will help me stimulate a localized social/romantic life remains a question of my initiative and will, but it feels immanently possible.

UP YOUR LEVELS, RASTA!

Mine has taken nicely (clarity: that's Mark's). You can see my semi-circle towards the end of the above slideshow.

Home tattoos.

This is one of the oldest things we as people do: we cut our hair and draw on our body (and pierce things) and (eventually) wear specific clothing as a means of signaling our cultural identity and expressing ourselves.

Now that I've got one...

This week I've been having a hard time getting up and at 'em. This is in contrast to the past several months where I've been up by 8am at the latest on most weekdays.

I dunno... it feels like some kind of weird senioritis-like plague. The holidays are coming up; the business seems to be working; pressure's off. I'm kind of in a lonely little limbo personally, pent up, a little horny, feeling like I should be getting creative instead of squareball workin' my life away. Raaar!

Well, I get out of town this weekend, down to SF. I've been here nonstop for six weeks, so maybe I just need a break, a little city energy to charge the old dynamo.

It should be fun. I have a cool summit on transparency, and the Girth is getting his Bar Results back (party!) and the Airman of the Year will be in town on leave. We'll no doubt get into some fine trouble.

After pissing down all yesterday, the sky has opened up. Time to take a last chance to visit with nature sans-rain slicker. Time to clean the gutters!

I spent a quiet evening at home, lounging in front of the fire and contemplating/introspecting. The Love question is getting bigger and bigger in my mind. I've started trying to date -- a truly atavistic endeavor for me -- with mixed results so far; really just getting back out there, as they say.

Still, it's more than enough to remind me what I miss about womanly companionship; enough to set me off on reminiscing, and wondering when and from whence the next big bolt of romantic electricity will come. Who knows. Who knows.

I've had a lucky and full life in love thus far, maybe more than my fair share -- though really I don't believe this is something in finite supply -- but I'm still hungry, dammit.

Here's what happens when you take your toilet away:

Here's a closeup of the naughty bits:

And then just some photos from my life: