the last embassy
enjelani's journal archives

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16 August 2002 (Friday)

on call

Having a passion, whether it's a serious hobby or one's daily bread, seems to mean living it to some extent. The world, or at least your perception of it, shifts. It's not enough to notice; you must also capture, crop, mount and frame. I think it was Paul Kerschen who noted that writers never get off work. All moments are possible scenes; every sentence out of a friend's mouth could be a key bit of character development. Exhausting, that nonstop vigil. Eric Cheng told me once that he had to step away from the camera for a while, as he'd come to see everything with little frames around it, poses, angles, examples of lighting technique. He'd become a constant observer, not a participant.

And blogs, as I think Dardy said a while back -- keep a blog religiously enough, and soon everything is a post. Separate your life into noteworthy and not-noteworthy. Look up at a tree shivering in the breeze and think "I'll blog about would I phrase it?..."

Back in the day, every now and again I'd dream in C. Days, weeks, months, years: all for loops, decremented from an unknown supply of time. for(life=span;life>0;life--) {...} My family was an array of pointers. It all made so much sense, all of reality neatly filed and categorized and humming along as programmed. I think I always woke up from those believing I'd had a nightmare.

posted by enjelani @ 11:11 AM PST [ link ]

13 August 2002 (Tuesday)

not that drawer, the other drawer!

Probably the biggest perk of living alone is the housekeeping -- only having one's own idiosyncrasies of cleanliness to deal with. I let dishes collect in the sink, but drippage in the fridge freaks me out. I haven't vacuumed since I moved in, but all my coats are hung up neatly at the front door. I have this highly unnecessary bathroom ritual wherein the shower curtain gets pulled back after a shower, so as to let the steam escape, then stretched out five minutes later so as to let the vinyl lining dry properly. I have no particular fondness for my vinyl shower curtain lining, so my OCD on the matter amuses me.

I was a pretty mellow roommate, by all accounts; I never made anyone conform to my quirky standards, and I did whatever level of cleaning that seemed to be par for the course at the time. But it's nice to finally have things my own way. No more paying an extra $20 a month for someone else's lights left on or someone else's marathon TV viewing, or pushing past the nearly-sentient Chinese takeout boxes to get to my orange juice.

It would, however, be nice to live with someone who cooked. Maybe I would actually remember to eat.

posted by enjelani @ 02:02 PM PST [ link ]

12 August 2002 (Monday)

head against the table

I cannot fathom a profession in which one has to be standing up for most of the day. Waitresses and workmen of the world, I bow in admiration to you. I spent today sitting at a computer desk, then in the driver's seat of a car, then in a chair onstage, and I am exhausted.

Apple juice with cloves and cinnamon boiling on the stove now, though. This oughta do the trick.

I'm hoping this is a phase, but I'm remarkably self-absorbed lately. Not in an egotistical way, just...the minutiae of my itty bitty life are consuming me completely at present. I have no patience for international news, or even the ongoing shenanigans in Washington D.C. It's people like me who let democracy go astray, you know. People who look the other way because they have better things to do.

posted by enjelani @ 10:40 PM PST [ link ]