Today I feel like the oldest 19-year-old ever.

DPE & DPV Season Finale

The pilot began with something like, "Back when Coney Island still was..."
Which, of course, was so many stories and late-night binges and elaborate rodent trap designs ago
that this screen capture must be sepiafied.

In our last hour as roommates, we stacked the last of her belongings to the curb like sidewalk sale items except not for sale, and then for the first time, did as those on our streets do.

We chilled on the apartment steps, just whiling the time away.

And then her mom's car arrived. And then it was loaded. And then they pulled away. And took the floodgates with.

If we were domestic partners in an Asian sitcom, this'd be the part where the sad but anticipatory strings cue in.

Damn cliffhangers (like Violet in Private Practice) that can even cause a student's desire for resolution and for the next season's premier to sillily (this needs to be a word) overlook the present joy: summer break.

Brie

I have tried, several times, to like you. I really have.

永遠都在找藉口準備

一但面對了
自然而然就有準備

And Poo + Vit D Make Gold

This morning's uncited breaking research e-mail from mom to my brother and me.

Take in lots of shrimp and drink in plenty of orange (espeically Vitamin C in-take) will probably cause death.

Shrimp + Vitamin C (after chemical reaction) = AS2O3

Angela Nobuko Yoshiko

AS2O3?? What? Two shrimp and ozone? I think she means arsenic oxide.

Kanger Wu!

Happy Mother's Day, Ronnie :)

La Lenteur

Strand is 18 miles of new and used happiness and one of my favorite stops in this city, where stopping is almost unheard of--not for stop lights, ambulances, pedestrians, not to sleep, not to smell roses (but maybe to smell the yellow bordered pages of basement books :D ).

Tonight's happy find was a first edition of Kundera's Slowness:

"Why has the pleasure of slowness disappeared? Ah, where have they gone, the amblers of yesteryear? Where have they gone, those loafing heroes of folk song, those vagabonds who roam from one mill to another and bed down under the stars? Have they vanished along with footpaths, with grasslands and clearings, with nature? There is a Czech proverb that describes their easy indolence by a metaphor: 'They are gazing at God's windows.' A person gazing at God's windows is not bored; he is happy. In our world, indolence has turned into having nothing to do, which is a completely different thing: a person with nothing to do is frustrated, bored, is constantly searching for the activity he lacks" (3).

The heart constantly, restlessly in search stops to catch her breath
   in musty used bookstores
   in lots and lots of food
   in new music, new clothes, new things
The good stuff of boredom and frustration.

Maybe the rest is sweeter, closer for the busier & tireder
   joining the ranks of corporate America via Slavebucks
   bloating the mind and body to compensate for the heart
   chasing down flying 175g objects
The stuff of restlessness and exhaustion.

"Restless till they rest in Thee" says Augustine in Confessions (another Strand acquisition). Looking to lesser rest for the cure. This my idolatry these days.

Asian + Dairy Products

73 degrees out today but I managed to make it snow. Indoors.

At Starbucks the whipped cream is made fresh from heavy cream + vanilla syrup. So I'm screwing in the nitrous oxide charger and suddenly... EXPLODE!!! yay! A shower of freshly whipped cream everywhere. Like... on everyone's faces, clothes, the menu board. The other baristas applauded and welcomed me to the team--it happens to everyone, they said.

That's also what they told me when I left a pitcher of milk steaming (didn't know depressing the lever any less than all the way results in manual, not automatic steaming) and it erupted. yay!

Frothed milk when it dries on my black work shoes looks like bird poo.