and so you’d think
And so you’d think I would rush through the door, throw down my luggage, tear through the empty boxes and set up my new life just in time for the stroke of midnight. 2003. The year I have waited for, for at least half a year. Instead, I’m still in my pajamas. Instead, I’m staring at an empty coffee mug and I’ve been dicking around with my website for an hour, a website I’m not even supposed to care about anymore. I thought about Doing Something but I really want to be by myself, with the cat, and one phone call at midnight. That’s how I want to spend it. I also want cheap Trader Joe’s sushi, but that requires leaving this safe space I have created, towers of boxes and all. Maybe I’ll convince myself into that,...
Read Moreunupdate
I wish I had more to report– no, that’s a lie. I’m glad I have almost nothing to report. It’s been such a relaxing time, and I needed it so much. My writing partner visited me on Friday, and we ate dinner, wandered around Michigan Avenue, and talked and talked. Adam and I did much the same Saturday, except we wandered around a mall instead. Both visits were so comfortable and made me so glad to have the friends I have. Now I have to face the fact that Monday night I’ll be heading back to California. Already? I’m both anxious to get back and reluctant to leave. My dreams have been ridiculous and hard, to make up for my easy waking life. I miss my cat, my library, and my someone special.
Read Morea meme from mom
My mom just gave me a copy of Jonathan Carroll’s _White Apples_. I can’t wait to read it. She told me that the book contains five fascinating questions; want to answer them? What three meals from your past would you like to eat again? What two objects would you like to possess again? What is the one act in your life you wish you could take back or erase? What one person would you like to see again? What one experience do you wish you could repeat?
Read Moredear 2003
Dear 2003: No more heart surgeries for my dad. This is non-negotiable. 2002 took the last of my grandparents, as well as my marriage, so you have less to work with. I would like for you to be nicer to my friends, a few in particular, who have been quite roughed up by 2002. I would also like to make it through you with an intact sense of self, or perhaps just this newfound perspective. The usual wishes, such as world peace, people being nicer to each other, and the cessation of Jewel being given book deals for her volumes of “poetry” still apply. Thank you kindly, and come on in. _halsted._ P.S. Don’t fuck with my new apartment.
Read Moreshortest recap
Friday Scott arrived. Saturday he helped me with more moving stuff, and then we went into the city and I performed the wedding ceremony. Afterwards, we went to David’s apartment to play games and have dinner and lovely wine with him and Brina. On Sunday, we did more moving and unpacking, watched “The Fellowship of the Ring” on DVD (thanks, Ned!) and then went to see “The Two Towers”. (uh, wow) Monday we ran around like CRAZY people, getting everything packed and dropping Zen off at the boarding place. Somehow — no thanks to the taxi company we called WAY ahead of time — we made it to the airport shuttle, then to the airport, and had a quick dinner before I had to board my plane. The flight was an uneventful four hours....
Read Moresleep success
Although the G4 didn’t make it over here last night — simply because I couldn’t lift the damned monitor — the coffeemaker did, and so in just a few moments I will brew a pot of coffee and greet the day properly. Zen slept curled up next to me for part of the night, and then at some point I woke up and she was on the third level of her cat tree (the thing is 7′ tall and has four levels). Right before my alarm went off, I woke and heard her fiddling in the litterbox, and then she came to bed and curled up next to me again for a few purring minutes until she was off to inspect some new part of this small place. Now she’s on the very top of her cat tree and dozing again. I, on the other hand, am awake and ready to face my very...
Read Moreaww yeah
My movers rocked. They were so incredibly wonderfully awesome. Two guys, two hours, less than two hundred bucks. In the beginning of the storm of biblical proportions, no less. And so it came to pass that after an Egg McMuffin and a nice, hot shower, I curled up for just a little while and fell asleep while listening to the rain. Now I’m attempting some work, at work. (Five-minute commutes also rock.) Tonight, I pick up Zen, the G4, and the coffeemaker, and then things get interesting. Thanks, everyone, for the good-moving-vibes. They worked!
Read Moreouch, says my back
Who invented this moving thing? My back hurts. The movers come for the furniture in the morning. My new flannel sheets and microfleece blanket are washed and ready, and along with my feather pillows and the beautiful afghan that Lynette made me, they all should make my futon comfy-cozy tomorrow night. Which is great, because tomorrow night I will sleep the sleep of the dead.
Read Morefinally
I made the mistake once of answering a “friend” honestly about why I wasn’t on good terms with his friend. I felt I was as fair as I could be, while still preserving the key aspects of why the situation was so. Instead of keeping this knowledge to himself — as he said he would, since he asked “in confidence” — he ran right back to her and told her everything. She, of course, confronted me. I hate confrontation, and even more when I feel like I have conducted myself in an ethical way to begin with, or at least my best approximation of what others believe are ethics. (More on the debate of ethics later, perhaps.) I have decided, since this last shining example of human stupidity (on his and my part both), to keep a few...
Read Morethe press
My weekend was simultaneously relaxing and depressing. The storm nodded its cheery little head at me and said, “O no. You’re not getting anything moved this weekend.” And so I did a bunch of nothing, and was sad and then glad about that. Glad and then sad. Sandwiched between last life and the next, contact lenses worn out and blurred, like in my dream. I got off the train and you stayed on, and it ended up being the last time I saw you. Cars are slow to function in my dreams, and the windshields are always rain-pummeled. I’ll shift gears but the car won’t, and this time, I drove right on past. I drove right on past. Did we ever mean to go this way? It’s never as easy as a mistaken left turn. You’ll stay on the train,
Read MoreNestcam
The cam was last on Friday, May 4.
Hello What
I am Halsted, a/k/a cygnoir, and I do stuff with words.
My favourite things to do with words are keeping this diary, writing stories, and organising information.
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Tenacious D
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Tenacious D
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Tenacious D
3 days, 14 hours and 32 minutes ago
Plugging
