2002-09-23 - 11:03 p.m.
I�m not dead. I�ve just been having a bad hair day. Except that it�s been going on for three weeks. And it involves my whole body and most of my brain.
That�s never stopped a good rumor, though, has it? You�re gone from Diaryland for a few weeks and suddenly your minions are muttering all sorts of weird shit among themselves. "What happened to Mig? Have you seen him lately?" "I heard he was killed in a drunken brawl in Tijuana last month!" "No, no, no--they found him dead of a heart attack after some coked-up party in Malibu and they secretly cremated him and spread his ashes over Jennifer Lopez!" "Actually, I heard some prankster stole the ashes and tried to mail them to the White House to start another anthrax scare, but the guy got caught and is getting the rubber-hose treatment at Guantanamo." "You�re all so full of shit! Everybody knows he ate some Pop-Rocks and then drank a coke and then his stomach exploded, just like what happened to Mikey from the Life Cereal commercials." And then before you know it, one of them finds your stash of absinthe and ends up scrawling RAMBO & RIMBAUD A GO GO RIMBAUD & RAMBO A GO GO all over the walls of your living room a thousand times in purple crayon.
(And by the way, whoever it was who did that, just come clean about it. I promise your punishment won�t hurt. Much.)
***
I won�t bore you all with the details of my absence. (Blah blah bronchitis blah blah tendonitis in my shoulder blah blah didn�t want to write anything even remotely connected to 9/11 blah blah life is a vast sucking void and most human beings are BIG FAT FUCKING WASTES OF OXYGEN yadda yadda yadda.) One of my goals here has always been to make people laugh and to shine a beacon of humor and irony into the massive La Brea tar pit of self-pity and melodrama that is the world of online journals. The problem is, when I myself am not in a laughing mood, I don�t want to write about it. I�m afraid that if I ever start writing too much depressive shit here, then you might as well turn the page background black, slap on some dripping-blood animations and crank that Bauhaus CD up to full volume because the doom and gloom is just never gonna stop.
But I�m glad to say, the fog seems to finally be lifting, both physically and mentally. And since you people are giving me grief about not updating, I thought I�d briefly recap some of the good stuff that�s been going on. Enjoy.
* Portland. My trip was faboo. Portland is the one city in the U.S. where I�d consider living if I ever had to leave San Diego. It�s clean, it�s compact, it�s wheelchair-accessible, the people are friendly, the public transit actually takes you places you�d want to go, the politics are progressive without being whiny and stupid about it (Reason 1 why I could never live in Berkeley), and it�s got better coffee and less attitude than Seattle. Plus, it has Powell�s, which acquired a whole new floor full of books since the last time I was there.
* Hot Snakes. Saw them play twice--once in Portland and once in San Diego--and they kicked my ass both times. Why people are proclaiming lame acts like The Strokes to be the Saviors of Rock and Roll when the real thing is hissing right in their ears is a complete mystery to me. If you missed them on tour, you�re out of luck--chances are they won�t be back for a couple of years--but you can go to your favorite snooty indie-rawk record store and console yourself with their latest CD for just 10 bucks. Just do it already--don�t make me show up on your doorstep and force you at gunpoint.
* Dlove�s post-Burning Man party. If anything in world can convince me to spend a week in the desert with a couple of thousand hippies, D and his gang will. Damn, that dude�s got himself one fun, smart, creative, sexy bunch of friends--and I think I danced with every single one of them. I�m not 100 percent sold on the idea of going to Burning Man myself, but if they can solve the mobility problem--i.e., how to get around on wheels when the terrain is nothing but powdery, loosely packed sand--that�s half the battle. I�m thinking a massive, motorized Machine of Death, personally, but somehow I suspect that�s not in the spirit of the event.
* Phase I of this year�s Halloween costume. Found and purchased on eBay:
(If, after looking at that, you don�t now know what my costume is, then you obviously lack the pop-culture sensibilities of a Miguelito minion. Please turn in your badge, sidearm and latex catsuit at the nearest Courtesy Desk. Thank you.)
***
It figures. I stay away for three weeks and I still get about a dozen "animated dollies" hits from Google a day. (Note to self: First thing we do when we take over the world is to ban all pimply basement-dwelling losers from the Internet.)
***
|
 |