Today’s soundtrack: people talkin' but they just don't know
Today at 12:42am: re-connecting



Jeez Louise. For five days I had no internet and it felt like a month.

During this web-less period of time:

- I got so much done. Found the meaning of life, developed cold fusion, solved pi and all that crap. Cake.

- My evenings were rather empty. It’s not uncommon to go through entire days in this crowded city feeling starved of meaningful human interaction, so I usually make it up at night on IM or by reading other people’s journals. But with no internet I was just staring at an empty rectangle, wondering about the choices I’ve made in life.

- Went to Hapkido for three nights in a row, and tonight I even taught a double class. That felt good. Sweated like a banshee though. Wait, do banshees sweat? Actually I don’t even know what a banshee is. If you have one, make it run up and down the block and see if it sweats.

- Threw a spontaneous dinner gathering. L.A. Designer Guy was in town, incidentally crashing with Epak, who is N.Y. Designer Guy. I think I was the one who connected the two of them, can’t remember. If I did then it is one of my proudest moments, demonstrating that I do indeed serve some sort of social function. These two have been to more places around the world and know more people anywhere than anyone. If everyone in the world lost their cellphones and you had to reconstitute a global phonebook, these two guys would be a good place to start.

- Watched “On The Waterfront.” I’ve joined Netflix in my effort to watch all the black-and-white classics in an affordable way. Movies at the local video store are five bucks; Netflix is $17-something and I’ve watched five movies in the past week, so I’m already ahead of the game. I can’t understand how they make money, but you know what? I don’t need to understand it. I just need to watch the last shot of “The Third Man” and sit there going “Now that’s a killer motherfucking shot.”

My friend Lawyer Girl has been crashing at my place for the past couple weeks. She’s from L.A. but I met her when I was living in Japan. Anyways she just moved to New York for work but her apartment isn’t available until the first of November.

So the first night she crashed, we’re getting ready for bed and we both looked at my queen-sized and decided to split it. We’re both adults and blah blah blah. Anyways the next morning she gets up and she’s like, “Yeah um, I’m gonna like, sleep on the couch for the rest of the time.”

I’m wondering what the hell I did in bed! It was either snoring, groping, moaning or something to do with bodily functions, I’d imagine. I used to crash on my friend Seiji’s floor in Tokyo and he’d wake me up in the middle of the night yelling “Shut the fuck up” because, he said, I was making all kinds of nasty moaning noises. Well, you’re not responsible if you’re asleep, right?

Five years ago I probably would’ve offered to take the couch and let the lady sleep on the bed. Then again five years ago I didn’t spend my evenings on the internet. Five years ago I could also walk out my door and see the Twin Towers, I carried subway tokens that costed a buck-fifty, and coffee at the diner was seventy cents. Every morning I’d be down there with two quarters, two dimes and a sense of optimism I can scarcely recall.