The Ferrari is like a rite of passage here for new money. You buy one at 26, flip it for a gray Lexus or Infiniti, and then you drive gray sedans the rest of your life. I keep mine because I can’t afford anything else at the moment, and I can’t afford the capital gains taxes if I sold it. I should get one of those “Don’t laugh: At least it’s paid for” bumper stickers. Nobody would appreciate the irony that I’m holding on by my teeth.
Microsurfs, Douglas Coupland
December 31, 2006
December 19, 2006
I've been keeping a list of the things that you see in the Midwest that you don't see in LA. Here's what I have so far:
*Roadkill
*Free Parking
*Squirrels
*Clouds :)
*Big Houses...that aren't broken up into tiny apartments
*The 30 by 30 club - I'm not sure if your familiar with this club, but it's pretty popular. Or you may think its about Baseball. But really it's all the people that put on 30 pounds by the age of 30.
*Roadkill
*Free Parking
*Squirrels
*Clouds :)
*Big Houses...that aren't broken up into tiny apartments
*The 30 by 30 club - I'm not sure if your familiar with this club, but it's pretty popular. Or you may think its about Baseball. But really it's all the people that put on 30 pounds by the age of 30.
December 15, 2006
Entry7_Just landed in Chicago. I'm sitting in Terminal 2 and already feel sick about buying internet time. Just so we're straight, this post cost me around $1.23.
The F in concourse F stands for Fox.
I’ve been here 20 minutes and I’m already in foreign territory. The accent is different. The clothing is different. The whole feel of the place is, of course, something I’m very used to having spent more than half my life living within a five-hour drive of this terminal. I’ve been out for three and a half years and it’s clear I no longer belong here. I keep thinking of those Kanye lyrics and wondering if I was restless in the Midwest.
The F in concourse F stands for Fox.
I’ve been here 20 minutes and I’m already in foreign territory. The accent is different. The clothing is different. The whole feel of the place is, of course, something I’m very used to having spent more than half my life living within a five-hour drive of this terminal. I’ve been out for three and a half years and it’s clear I no longer belong here. I keep thinking of those Kanye lyrics and wondering if I was restless in the Midwest.
December 12, 2006
Entry6_I’ve been walking to the gym lately. It’s 1.1 miles each way. I take Green Street, which means there’s less noise and fewer pedestrians. I’m finding the 40 minutes of walking good for my soul. Sometimes I reflect on my day. Other times I think about my life, friends and family. But most of the time I’m busy playing that game where you can’t step on any lines in the sidewalk. Like I said, it’s been good for my soul.
December 8, 2006
Entry5_I'm watching South Park. It's the first time I've ever watched one all the way through. The little kids are building a ladder to heaven to see there friend Kenny who died. The government gets involved and decides that Saddam is in heaven builing nuclear weapons. Bush then goes to Capitol Hill and calls for the US to bomb heaven. In the end, they decide that heaven is more an idea than a reality in the sky. That instead of trying to get to heaven, they need to "bring heaven to earth." Have Trey Parker and the South Park gang been reading N.T. Wright? Or is this just good humanism?
December 7, 2006
Entry4_I’ve had green beans every day for the last 3 weeks. But apparently, vegetables from a can don’t count as much. I say it’s still better than my alternative. Peanut M&Ms.
I’m 27 and I already feel like I’m in a weekly fight with getting’fat. Sometimes I swear He is lurking around every corner looking to invade and occupy. Especially in those places around my waist. I try to reason with Him. At least head for my calves or even my hands would do.
I refuse to get fat. And as long as I can control my body, I’m going to stay healthy. How hard is it to eat healthy and exercise daily? Seriously. If I can’t do that, what else can I do?
I’m 27 and I already feel like I’m in a weekly fight with getting’fat. Sometimes I swear He is lurking around every corner looking to invade and occupy. Especially in those places around my waist. I try to reason with Him. At least head for my calves or even my hands would do.
I refuse to get fat. And as long as I can control my body, I’m going to stay healthy. How hard is it to eat healthy and exercise daily? Seriously. If I can’t do that, what else can I do?
December 6, 2006
Entry3_My pre-bed ritual goes something like this (and may or may not include brushing my teeth): I turn off all the lights in our studio apartment. Then I put some music on over the iMac. Tonight it’s got some Christmas flavor. Namely Remy Zero singing “Some Day At Christmas” and John Lennon singing “Happy Christmas” with the Harlem community Choir (often though, it’s something like “Everything’s Not Lost” by Coldplay). I turn on the fan to divert the noise that’s all around our building. These nights I turn on the heater because I think it gets down to around 50 degrees at night and we don’t have central heating. I sadly unplug the Christmas tree. Finally, Kari and I look at each other and discuss a time we’d like to wake up. Usually it’s a ridiculously early time like 9:30am. Then we crawl into the cave where our bed is. Some nights, after about a half an hour, I quietly crawl out of bed and read, which is a common act for most S.O.F.M.S’s.
Spouses of Former Mono Sufferers.
Spouses of Former Mono Sufferers.
December 5, 2006
Entry2_We put up our Christmas tree tonight. Big Lots provided this artificial, six-feet tall beauty (the last 2 feet is one single little branch). It was $12.99. That was a year ago. We haven’t been back since. Christmas always feels a little fabricated until we go “home” for Christmas. I think it will be like this until we have more than one kid in the house and the little person is at least seven. Note: The fabrication ends near 2020.
I drove to West Hollywood. It’s Sunday, which means the traffic is bearable. The 134 Freeway leads to Laurel Canyon Drive, which takes you over the Hollywood Hills and dumps you onto the Sunset Strip. The drive is a little like driving in a foreign country for the first time (unless that country is India or 43 other countries). Studio City is trapped in the 1980’s (think strip malls and 3-story stucco apartments). The Hills are drooped with remnants of the 60’s freedom and the 00’s wealth (think floor to ceiling windows). I bet every major Hollywood player has made the trip over the Hills. Who cares. At least that’s what I told myself as we drove. One three-bedroom place on the hill was selling for $899,000. Say you want to put 10% down. You’re looking at $90,000.
I drove to West Hollywood. It’s Sunday, which means the traffic is bearable. The 134 Freeway leads to Laurel Canyon Drive, which takes you over the Hollywood Hills and dumps you onto the Sunset Strip. The drive is a little like driving in a foreign country for the first time (unless that country is India or 43 other countries). Studio City is trapped in the 1980’s (think strip malls and 3-story stucco apartments). The Hills are drooped with remnants of the 60’s freedom and the 00’s wealth (think floor to ceiling windows). I bet every major Hollywood player has made the trip over the Hills. Who cares. At least that’s what I told myself as we drove. One three-bedroom place on the hill was selling for $899,000. Say you want to put 10% down. You’re looking at $90,000.
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