Aries 2001

4/19 [Always suspected this.]
The cat seems to prefer the "little old lady" cat food I got her, the special, low fat, crunchy, politically correct cat food. I figured it was like everything else that is supposedly good for us, I was for sure it tasted like sawdust. Guess not. I wrapped up a four or five mile route around the lake, stopping by one particular dive place to eat, but they had soap all over the floor, the smell of cleaning agent was too strong, so for the second time only, I tried Mariscos. It looked like it was going to be disappointing when the "hot sauce" appeared to be out of a can. Not quite what I had in mind, but the hot version of the shrimp thing was actually spicy hot. Nice change. Off to the office — again — this morning. Things you only hear in a trailer park, while standing outside last night, complaining about one neighbor's choice in music, "But dude, can you imagine having sex, listening to Boy George?"
4/18
On this date, in 1387, 29 pilgrims left Southwark's Tabard Inn, bound for Canterbury. Literary history was made, the mother of all road stories, Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. The first Spring Break of record? [Or would that be Homer's Odyssey?] Taking a spring break from my strenuous schedule, I had lunch with a Virgo. Coffee and astrology charts at the Flight Path. Then, on the swing homeward, we pulled into the boot repair center, right across the street from Hyde Park Bar & Grill — I can't remember the name, but the guy was highly recommended. So I sat down, pulled off my boots, handed them to him, and walked out the door barefoot. I thought it was a first, but no, the repair guy allowed as how a guy in a suit did the same thing once. Heard really bad news from one of my Silicone Valley Girls: "Death before food service, baby." [She's now looking for work.] I still can't dance. As much as I make an effort to disabuse non–Texas people about how civilized we can be around here, there are always a few bad stories.
4/17
I was synchronizing my Handspring, and I discovered a note I scribbled from the Derailer's set, on Saturday night. Words to live by, "Have a good time all the time!" Another phrase, I still can't shake, "Kramer, you're like a car wreck, you know, I know I shouldn't look, but I just have to." [Poor impulse control?] Got this call, "[The Aquarius] said she's signing us up for dance lessons. She was too chicken to call and tell you." This shall be most amusing: as the designated default date for the Aquarius and the Pisces [except when they have any other offer], now I'm also the designated dancer? There's going to be trouble on the dance floor. I can't Cotton Eye Joe — it's an observed fact. Absurd, too. I can push around in the Western Swing Mosh Pit okay, but let's face some facts, often observed: I have no rhythm. And poor fashion sense. My country and western dancing is combination of two–step and dog–humping–your–leg thing. Capricorn e-mail, Capricorn for breakfast walk, Capricorn readings, more Cap e-mail. Another trend?
4/16
The nicest thing about being an astrologer — not that I always believe this stuff — is the chance to continually check my theories. The best time to mail in that tax return? Sunday night — last night — between 6 & 7 PM [my local time]. "Oh yes, you get that ability to tell stories from your father's side — no one on my side of the family can tell stories like that," the gospel according to Ma Wetzel. No one on her side, except her younger brother, older brother, my granddaddy, her momma, no one else could tell stories.... I figure it's in my blood, either way. With my family, "truth" is a subjective reality. Always has been. Just some miscellaneous meanderings after spending a day with the folks. Worked on Pa Wetzel's Handspring. We figured out how to send text messages to each other. Spent two hours surfing the web with Ma Wetzel. We were, in fact, trying to find a series of lectures about the upcoming Ring Cycle. Got to the airport, and figured out that the 9:35 flight was getting to Austin faster than the 8:40 flight, so I switched my ticket around. I can't ever seem to take off from Dallas — especially at night — without hearing the strains of a Jimme Dale Gilmore song about Dallas, running through my head. "Dallas is like rich man with a death wish in his eye.... did you ever see Dallas from DC-9 at night?"
4/15
Off to the airport at an unreasonable hour of the morning, short trip to Dallas for the day, just in time to see Ma Wetzel for Easter. For a Saturday, I sure spent a lot of time on the phone — working. I picked up a greeting card for the family, for Easter, not because it's a holiday I have much to do with, but I guess it's the thing to do. "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives." [Annie Dillard] Days like Saturday are near perfection. Close, but not quite. I had to arrange to spend a little more time talking and little less time writing, but the afternoon hike was long, arduous, and punctuated by good Mexican food. So a little work that I enjoy, some exercise, some delicious cuisine, it's how I choose to spend my days, and thus, live my live. I like it like this. Feels like a perpetual summer. You know, pop on around the corner, and hear the Derailers play their last set at the Spoke. Get noticed by several people for my Patchouli aroma. No, that was the weirdest. First it was the door guy, then some woman, and finally a Virgo I ran into....
4/14
This tale of a software/hardware installation has been going on for far too long. Actual time spent working might be less than two hours, but it's been the main topic for the better part of three days now. After we had wrapped up, just in time for an afternoon lunch, I was chatting with my cohort in the deal. Now, like a good computer tech, he showed up with a handful of extra parts, just in case. This included a spare router — you never know when you might need one — and as the case was, it was needed. Slammed the install, and we took off for lunch, gathering up his girlfriend, and my Pisces friend playing hooky from work. Now, during our idle chatter in the morning, I had listened to a running commentary about gun control — it's a Texas thing. My friend was opinionated. I warned him that we needed to find place to eat that would include vegetarian food because the Pisces girl is vegetarian (neither unusual nor an uncommon request in South Austin). "That's good," my buddy told me, "I'm vegetarian, too." "But the guns?" "Hey," in true Leo–like fashion, "I'm a vegetarian, not a wimp." I doubled over with laughter. He also thought that Sagittarius was a form of psychoses, not just an astrology sign. Can't seem to refute that one, either. Vegetarian for 20 plus years, and a wonderful sense of humor. Now, to add one more bit to the tale, just as I laid my weary head upon the couch, thinking about a nap, after a hard day at work, Bubba calls me up then convinces me to wander out for a little while. Two Scorpio waitresses at Curra's for lunch, then another one at Threadgill's for dinner. Call it a Scorpio day, just for flavor.
4/13 — Good Friday — Moon in Capricorn
Got off on my wandering, meandering text about Texas culture, and I know I missed a few items. Like Dairy Queen. Like polyester slacks and permanent press — western yoke cut shirts. Belt buckles the size of license plates [and bigger than some states back east.] Hand tooled leather accessories. [Saw them all last night in East Austin, too.] Restaurants where English isn't spoken at all — either some Asian dialect or more often, Spanish. I may still have poor impulse control, but at least, I'm having fun. When I was checking my mail, a formerly red Chevy Blazer splashed through the mud in Shady Acres, trying to run me over. It was Sam, with the Neighbor in tow, going home, and I was a likely target. He plays Ulysses in a local version of one of my favorite plays, Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida. "I don't like the play," he later told me, despite having one of the choicest part, "it's a lot of talking and no action." I just opened up my arms and smiled real big. I wandered through East Austin, in search of the theater, but about fifteen minutes after curtain time, I realized I wasn't going to make it. So I stopped by to see the shoe shine girl, her kids were with the ex, and her boyfriend was out of town, and even though I didn't have any boots to get shined, I did like watching the mass of humanity stagger past as another High Tech Happy Hour was just winding down, and the gay bar next to it was just starting to get cranked up. But the high point was a student photographer (Scorpio) and her male model friend (Capricorn) who was dressed to kill in a sun frock, hairy legs, and his handbag most certainly didn't match his shoes. Nice tiara, though. What does that say when hairy legs and cross dressing is accepted? To wit, I saw our most famous cross dressing homeless guy, fishing for dollars, just moments earlier, over on 6th Street. I think I like Texas Culture, such as it is.
4/12 — "Poor Impulse Control"
Cold rain and clouds yesterday morning, which lead to a foul up with schedules and phone lines — no office work, as everyone was running late, missing in action or just plain unavailable. Trying to coordinate six different schedules is not my idea of fun — not really a task I'm cut out for, either. "Working freelance is a lot like dating, only there's a usually a better return." [Third Gemini from the left.] Which got to me thinking about a topic I've heard too much about, "He told me he had feelings for me" [not gender specific, using generic terms here]. To a standard female mindset, I guess the expression translates as, "He harbors great passion and love in his heart." Right idea, wrong choice of words. Near as I can tell, when I "have feelings for you," it really means, "I have a sense of profound attraction to you because of your [pick one or more visual clues.]" I started on this train of thought a couple of days ago, because I was talking with a client, and I was profoundly attracted to her. Love? Not even, other than the universal, brotherly love I feel for many clients. Lust? Not really, just an attraction. [The Neighbor defines such attractions in a simplistic way, "Hey, she's breathing, she walks upright."] If I were less of a person, I could use the easy way out and suggest that, "I have feelings for you." To be honest though, just what are those feelings? Agape? Eros? More base? How about just calling that feeling what it really is, call it an attraction? Working with the words themselves would straighten out a lot of messes. Wait, then I'd be out of a job.
I read the Ft. Worth Star-Telegram online because it's refreshingly unapologetic in its editorial stance. Small town, colloquial, and yet, universal, all at the same time. The bit about Mrs. Baird's closing its old Dallas location, it brings a certain sadness. I grew up in the shadow of that plant. When the wind was right and the windows were open, like now, I could smell the bakery. I think it was a church group, or Boy Scouts, or field trip, or something, and I got to tour the bakery several times. Fresh bread, almost as good as home made. The other Dallas icon, which has already fallen, is the old Dr. Pepper plant, not the original, in Waco, but the wonderful art deco one in Dallas. My first trip to jail was started in front of it — there's a certain sentiment attached to that. Bear in mind, that afternoon I went to jail, I was wearing a purple Hawaiian Shirt, similar floral [clashing] print shorts, and I had people hanging out the windows of passing cars, hollering at me, "Hey Kramer!" Funny, now. The guy who bailed me out an hour later — his girlfriend's kid had just painted his nails. Little bits of personal history that are funny — now. 20 years ago, it was — it was funny then, too. No way to save landmark buildings that aren't quite landmarks.
I had high tea, which was really low coffee, after a working lunch at El Sol y La Luna, next door at Jo's. Sitting in the sun, watching the characters stroll by, the odd rock band hanging out, the owner's dog begging for a scrap from a customer, tonight's show on the marquee at the Continental Club, thinking about a horoscope I was going to write. I wandered down the avenue, full of coffee and barbacoa, looking for a Guyaba shirt. One of the stores on Congress Avenue has a rack of just such shirts. I searched through the good, used clothing to find the most right one, with a "Hecho en Mexico" tag. Then I made a comment, intended in jest, about being "culturally pure" in my clothing choice. I think it was misunderstood, but I didn't dare make the situation any more uncomfortable. In my mind, "culturally pure" in Texas is misleading. Means there are elements from at least a half dozen cultures. Obviously, there's Native American, then Native Central American, and Mexican, and German, French, Cajun, Louisiana, New Mexico, and more recently, a lot of Asian influence that is justifiably Texan, too. Don't neglect our Southern Baptists, either, as a valid part of the local heritage. I can't even begin to think about it all, like 40% of the real cowboys, at the height of the trail drives, were African American. Sort of blows images projected by media. Culturally pure clothing, like, making sure the shirt is made with 'algodon y poliester' instead of something else.
Closed the night out listening to strains of Low Rider being covered by some band out in the Austin night. "Take a little trip with me." Like the sweet smell of spring, a fresh spray of jasmine on the night's breeze, a little "culturally pure" music drifting on the evening's soft air.
4/11 [Spy Wednesday, so–called for Judas]
During the morning, I managed to listen to most of Wagner's Ziegfried. [Third in the Ring Cycle] Perfect, a tale about youth and arrogance. I may not have the youth, and although I don't really understand the words, the young character's voice is certainly full of feeling. But I do have the arrogance — or so I've been assured. I had a rather fine Seafood Risotto at Louie's 106, that upscale, nice place downtown. Made me feel like I was somebody important. Then, in an effort to follow some of my own advice, I took off on my walking tour of East Austin. Chickens in the yard, day laborers sitting on the porch drinking beer, conjunto music playing in the background. It was the really long way home, more for exercise than anything else. There's an oddly reassuring sense about rebirth, though, that comes from seeing an actual baby chicken being herded along by the mother hen, especially at Easter time. There was this Gemini ["Third from the left"] I was trying to introduce to this Aquarius["right of first refusal"], and I failed on both accounts — not only did I fail — but I struck out as all females seem to be too busy to see me now. Funny wicked (you have been warned) link. So I'm off to the office for the day. That's twice in one week, I'm not sure my system can take the real job thing. I'm just not cut out for work. But this job has a title: supervise an install.
4/10
I had a late lunch with yet another Pisces friend, and it was so pleasant, sitting out in the cool afternoon shade, looking over a selection of astrology charts, me trying to simultaneously chat up the Scorpio wait person and my Pisces friend, the breeze out of the south ruffling what's left of my hair, some spicy beef stew, a little Mexican "rice pudding" along with some strong coffee for dessert, the afternoon light a little dappled. We killed off most of the afternoon like that — with some serious astrology, too. Makes it really hard to saddle back up to the word processor late in the evening to try and get anything else done. I'm not sure herb tea with fresh mint from my patio really mixes well with nasty ZZ Top music, but on a spring evening, in the shade of the nightfall, it worked well. I stepped out into the night air to watch the low clouds drift in front of the formerly full moon, creating one of those visual effects that's so special, a little moonlight on the river's water, the clouds scudding by, the Xmas lights from the trailer, the quiet of the night. I spooled up some music for first thing the morning, late last night: Ziegfreid and a CD I bought for a bargain price of $2.99 — Latin Dance Party. Nothing in English. I was really tickled by this, from that Aquarius — right of first refusal!
>about 4/9/01 10:53 PM, ya'll suggested:
>>I am still remembering that when/if that day
>> comes and some guy is silly
>>enough to propose, that you
>> have first right of refusal.
4/9
Long day at the lake. It didn't start out that way, my day started with emergency astrology phone calls [and if you laugh at emergency astrology phone calls, I'll smack you with my tire jack]. Then brunch at Threadgill's and coffee at Jo's and then I took off on foot, hit the lake trail, and wound up going the extra long way home — about 6 extra miles. But it was such a beautiful day. Sun was out, a stiff breeze was billowing up the river bottom, everything seems to be blooming. Folks dressed in their Sunday best, and my favorite, that pick up game of soccer, played on a slope. "The goal is between that stick, and where the T-shirt is. Was." Watch carefully, there's one player who knows how to use the slope — near as I can tell, he's been playing on most nice Sundays. I thought the Full Moon was going to leave a Libra flavor, but yesterday was a Virgo kind of day. Virgo server at Threadgill's. Virgo clients. Virgo this and Virgo that. "We be Virgo" day. [Includes Gemini's with a Virgo Moon.] While waiting on Mr. Webmaster to post the pages, I found my favorite comic strip again, new location. Then, I had the weirdest thing happen — I was reading my Scorpio Scope — trying to follow my own advice — and Ma Wetzel informed me I was going to be in Dallas this coming Sunday. One must always accommodate Scorpio's with one's schedule.
4/8
Sunday. Morning musical selections, let's get funky now: Starting the Ring Cycle all over again, and then, follow that with ZZ Top. I was slipping through one of the local Austin neighborhoods yesterday, and I was reminiscing about living in Arizona, and how the Orange Blossoms smelled in the spring time with their over powering erotic scent. Just then, I passed a flowering garden, and I was hit with that sweet honeysuckle smell. Another yard I passed, someone was out in the front yard, reading a book. Another place, another person was reading a newspaper on the front porch. South Austin, on a Saturday afternoon, maybe even more of a Texas thing: we're out of doors. The gentle breezes buzzing the tops of the trees, insects, the cat asleep on the couch — one neighbor, planting snap dragons around his trailer. A little coffee, another sweetroll from Jo's. A Gemini, a little exercise. I was hanging out with the Pisces girl last night. The full moon (in Libra) shining through the low clouds, somewhere in the night, a dog was barking....
4/7 [Witches Sabbat]
Empathy. In an exchange of electronic texts last night, one correspondent was relating having seen me at Amy's. Weird mood, I denied it, denied getting in the car with a woman, and claimed witness protection program, as my humor was strange. I had three Virgo phone calls before noon, lunch with a Libra (and Scorpio son), two more Gemini's after lunch, and while I was sitting in the Bouldin Creek Coffee House, I had a round of semi-emergency calls on the handheld phone. Then I got another call, the best one I've had in long time. The phone's coverage was sort of spotty, and that suited me fine, and the number was blocked, so I didn't know who it was. I was sort of expecting any one of a number of calls, so I pick up the phone, "Hey..." [some garbled response] "Look, I can barely hear you," I said. "Dude! We got funded! The transfer went through!" "Cool," says me, "excellent, dude. All right." The voice on the other end agreed to get together with me next week. It might not have been the best call of the day, but my response, the face I made, and the fact that I had no earthly idea who I was talking to, all of that made the exchange all that much more interesting. Hey Kyle (if that's the right name), way to go, dude. The soft, afternoon air, the gentle temperature, a little leg stretch on the way home, a sweetroll from Jo's on Congress, it's not the big things in life that matter, it's the little things that make it all worthwhile. The third Gemini from the left opened up her car's trunk, which was packed with shoe shine gear, "My car smells like shine," she said. It the little things. That, and getting funded, I guess. Dude.
4/6
"When I was arrested, I was dressed in black. They put me on train and they took me back." [Obviously listening to Hank III — doing a version of Johnny Cash's Cocaine Blues.] Something about Hank III's voice, just puts me in a good mood. I was out on the hike and bike trail, feet swinging along merrily, and I kept thinking I should bring the digital camera sometime, just for the images. Only, I realize the pictures, out of context, make no sense. A squirrel, a bird or two, some Cormorants, a Heron, the cute girl who smiled back at me, that sort of thing. Occasional red ear turtles. Lots of yellow ear ones. The red, sandy dirt in some places, the limestone, broken and jagged, and its black dirt in other places. The color of water as it comes from a limestone spring — that special hue it has. The way the barbecue sauce at Green Mesquite looks when it mixes into the potato salad. The feeling of pork ribs as they tenderly crunch, cooked to perfection, or darn near it. No camera can catch the sense, the feeling of place on an afternoon in Central Texas. "I'm buying, you're cooking, so where we going?" Ever had a crawdad quesodilla? It's common foodstuffs around these parts. [Gemini]
4/5
Work is such a drag. Sign in the back room at the office: Born Again Bitch. Wasn't my experience, but it does take about three times as long to get anything done when I'm working on three computers at one time. Great, and these guys will have DSL soon. So will I, according to the tech handling my case of the turned on and off service. Last night, I hitched a ride home with a girl who lives in the trailer park here. She was going to get her sister's dog, so when we got back in Shady Acres, she looked at me, and said, "Time to drop the dogs off." It was funny at the time.
4/4 [Feast Day of St. Benedict the Black, cook and monk.]
After all, I do live like a monk. One of the web cam ads I've seen suggest that "This is a hooter free site." I like that, and I was going to run something like that myself, but given my propensity for wandering around the trailer with no shirt on, I wonder if that would be truth in advertising? There's not going to be anything lurid or titillating, that's for sure. One editor was mailing me about breaking up some of my long sentences, which then evolved into a discussion of my heritage (Ma Wetzel is Southern), which then brought up As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner, one of my favorite books. It's really, really funny in a bleak, black, gothic, grotesque Southern humor tradition. And that's why there's this site, so I can run my scopes the way I wrote them, with long sentences and all, not something cleaned up for the average web consumer. "It's a hard life to choose, being good and payin' dues, but it's the kind of life I'm livin' and I plan on livin' long." (Hank III) I was out with the Pisces girl last night, had some fishies for dinner, a new sushi place that needed to be tried out. Two outstanding specials, one was hot tuna something, and the other was called Lava. No joking. Great stuff. Also: Baby Tako. Little baby octopus — looked just like lure I bought over at Wal-Mart a few weeks back. Tasted a lot better, though. Then the building supply store, then Amy's. Then, on the trip home, a weird little detour around a now vacant construction site, an abandoned, half finished Intel building. Off to the office this morning. "Kramer, just stay away from the customers, okay?"
4/3 [Feast Day of St. Richard of Chichester, Patron Saint of coachmen]
I wonder if airports are the bus stations for the next 100 years? I wish I could find the reference, but I seem to recall that the family name Lucchese — besides being Texas boot makers of note — was also the name of an organized business unit in the northeast someplace. Organized family business unit. I shopped at the Lucchese Factory Outlet store Monday morning — didn't buy a thing, but the selection of boots was mighty inviting. I just dropped off one pair of boots for their third or fourth set of soles. I was reading an old New Yorker magazine while waiting on my flight, and there was an article about how Americans don't like to eat shrimp with the heads still on — just an American thing — not common elsewhere in the world. But, as a thought, the best part of a crawfish is the head, "Bite the tail, suck the head." Forti's Mexican Elder, a place I've been eating at in El Paso for the last half dozen years or more, just got a nice mention in the latest Texas Monthly. Red Heads: no two are alike, and they are all the same [one of the El Paso readers is a red headed Cap, a red headed Cap picked me up at the airport, and another red headed Cap sent this in:
>As my "big gun" astrologer, you're going
>to have to keep my panties under your hat from now on.
The Red Head at the airport in Austin — I offered to buy her dinner. Nothing is more redneck for that redhead than dinner, dessert, and a little shopping, all at Austin's airport. "You sure know how to treat a lady, Kramer." Salt Lick Barbecue, Amy's Ice Cream, a travel section in the bookstore? Sure.
4/2
What was I thinking? Working on April Fool's Day? Rip stop country music. I'm supposed to understand symbolism, but one I never did quite grasp why was the "maximum capacity" sign underneath my banner at the fair. And you just have to love a Truck Stop (on the interstate access road, just in front of the refinery) that advertise "fresh menudo" with hand lettered signs on the tabletops. I watched in awe as one Pisces girl had a huge,spicy beef burrito, and then topped it with cream gravy. The Y2K bug is still not quite over: 1999 printer software doesn't seem to work on a 2001 computer. Of course, a Cancer Moon (Saturday and Sunday) means folks want to stay home, or in their hotel room, as the situation dictates. The day, though, had a definite Aries flavor to it all. But I still I like Leo's best. Now, how can I add in the fact that I was watching Titus Andronicus late last night on the hotel's TV?
4/1
Just the sweetest Virgo stopped by and dropped me off at the airport, then on the flight into El Paso, I sat next to a former judge for Marfa. Typical of a Leo, the guy could tell stories, but none really bear repeating. Weirder yet, he knew at least one of my friends in El Paso. World's getting smaller. Besides, any former judge with an earring and a ponytail has to be all right by me. Catastrophe struck though, as the new printer wouldn't talk to the new computer. Worked before, but in my haste to get out of town, I hadn't checked the set up with the new CPU. I spent the lunch time portion of the day in the hotel room, frantically downloading a new driver — to no avail. No matter what I do, I always seem to get out without at least one piece of mission critical equipment. Time change time, and off to breakfast with Grace the Leo, work, and try to get the new printer driver to work again. I love the confusion of culture in this part of the world. To an outsider, there's an arbitrary line which divides Ciudad Juarez and El Paso, but to natives of the area, it's less of line, and more of gray thing.
3/31
Red–eye morning flight to El Paso. "Write something funny." Only if something funny happens. Lunch yesterday was a big ordeal. Steve the Scotsman is a chef at Louie's 106, a really swank place downtown — if you believe what the press says. And he invited us down to dine with him, so it was me, the Neighbor and another guy, all of us rather scruffy looking. As we were seated one of my clients sees me and stands up, "Kramer!" Can't take me anywhere without being noticed. "Shoot, living in the trailer next to Kramer is like having a second job," the Neighbor suggested over a garlic/basil [and lord knows what else] chicken thing. Seafood risotto looked like it was the best, but I opted for a relatively tame Mahi-Mahi dish. Steve, the Scottish chef, leaned over, "Hey dude, I spat in your food," then he grinned. A couple with two small children came in, and not to be out done by the children, the three adult–sized males at our table proceed to play with the crayons, too. We were entirely unsuccessful at embarrassing Steve (Leo, Scotsman), but we did have ourselves a mighty fine meal. And the Créme Brulée at Louie's is awfully good. "Shoot, even the ice tea here tastes good," suggested our dining buddy. We didn't get the meal for free, but it wasn't such a bad deal for place that's supposed to be so upscale.
3/30
Had some mighty fine lunch yesterday at El Sol y La Luna, sandwiched between the Austin Motel and Jo's. Then, for dessert, a quick cup of joe at Jo's. [It was funny the first time. "It's not funny anymore."] Suicidal Tendencies on the CD now. Kona from Peet's in the coffee mug. And Macromedia's Fireworks IV on the computer. I got one version of the new "Abyss" index working, but now, I'm just getting dangerous. Powerful design tools should not be left in the hands of someone as aesthetically challenged as I am. And I'm hard pressed to explain what this Lone Star is doing scattered around the trailer this morning. It was a late night visit from a Scorpio [and to think, I was saving that beer as bait for a Gemini. Or Virgo.] Never did work.
3/29
St. Dominic's Day, Patron Saint of Astronomy [back in a time when Astronomy and Astrology were the same thing.] I'm not a fan of cold weather. And I'm not sure I'm a fan of unloading one suitcase, then loading up the next backpack for the road. Maybe I could just do this Pony Express style — jump from one horse to another, if I could only live in saddlebags. For/from [one of] my fine Capricorn friends. I'm wondering if this is a new trend — I ran into a Leo friend at Threadgill's, yesterday afternoon. I had to turn down the offer of a workout later, though, as it was just much too cold for me to be chasing some girl around the hike and bike trail. Besides, that's ever so not my style. I've packed and repackaged for El Paso this weekend at least three times. I did a quick load of laundry last night, and it's like this: I'm trying to guess what the weather will be like. Estimating Texas weather? What was I thinking? Take hot weather and cold weather clothes — sweaters and shorts. This will not be like last year. And I seem to recall yet another Leo discussing weather patterns, "We'll get another freeze before April is over." Leo is the theme right now.
3/28
Rain. Rain, rain — rain. And problems with the billing cycle on the DSL line so I was forced to use a dial up account when I finally got home. Then a machine freeze while I was updating the journal, and I managed to lose a portion of Sunday's entry. It's too bad because it was the lyric stuff about hanging out with Mr. & Mrs. fredlet (not my name), and how enjoyable an experience it was. Heaping piles of bait (Sushi and Sashimi), "Baja Rolls," special sauce [Eastern Mayonnaise & Vietnamese Ketchup], and a remote control Bart Simpson. And one funny note about how folks just accept the fact that Sister and myself tend to wear weird hats, and this is no big deal. All I did yesterday was sleep and talk to Tech Support. I was reading some online journals last night, and there was an entry about the workshop process, and then I got to thinking about a comment that was directed at me, "Your jokes are good , except for the timing and content...." Why I don't workshop anymore.
>Re: Your site rulez!!
>about 3/27/01 7:21 PM, ya'll suggested:
>Blah, blah, blah..
>Paraphernelia checks out okay, too. The FGS mug, by far,
> surpasses the "Hot Tub Tips for Men" cup -
> both in sheer volume and acerbic wit. "Hey man, I'm
>impressed!"
[That swag is available here.]
3/27
"Is that a Sony?" Some guy in Sky Harbor asked me as I was working on this, "No, it's a Mac." — bad 80's music on the sound system — it's a Slow Ride. Perceptions are a strange topic. Two people can look at the same thing and see completely different things — perceptions. Sister is a very creative individual, and, as such lives in quite the chaotic environment. I wouldn't say that her apartment is a wreck, but I couldn't even find the phone, much less anything else in her place. I stayed with one of her friends. Even before I ever got there, Sister's whole staff/troop had warned this Leo that, "He'll break your heart." Saturday, her neighbor stops by, a comely lass of nice proportions, and we start talking about her sign, also Leo — then mine. "Sagittarius? He'll break your heart." Sunday, it was fredlet. Same message, albeit, a little more acerbic and witty, but the message was the same, "Kramer? He'll break your heart." Now, no one was warning me about my heart getting broken, but then, when couch surfing, there's not much heart breaking going on. Near as we could piece together, the only person who didn't warn the Leo was Sister's significant other. "No black hat, black boots, tight jeans, nice butt, computer astrology cowboy is going to break my heart." Glad I'm not bitter or anything.
3/26
I've mentioned that I'm in Oakland to several friends back home, and I get this universal look of disdain. But every morning, I walk down the hill, not much more than a block or so, and have me some Peet's Coffee (perhaps the best coffee in the world.) Across the street, there are two bakeries with fresh breakfast pastries.
3/25
[March 25 is St. Dysmas Day, the patron saint of thieves, according to one text] "You'll have to excuse me — I have no sense of direction." "Course not, " I quipped back to my hostess, "no weenie to carry it in." Shopping, even on the Left Coast, is no different. One record store clerk took one look at the hat, then the CD's, and asked, "Yeah, did you see these two on tour together?" Sure heavy metal and and heavy mental music together again. In China Basin, 3rd & Embarcadero, at the donut shop — it's just so stereotypical — a city cop — but he was riding a BMW police bike. There's a Yahoo! Billboard: "Yahoo! Here, take my electricity." And over one round of tuna sushi —"With whitebread and Ranch Dressing, you can make anything edible." The second round of sushi was in Walnut Creek, where you hang a left at the brewery, then a right after the Harley shop, and it's next to the 7–11. But, the trek was well worth it for one special roll: The Bradzilla (modified Godzilla Roll). Spicy tuna, rolled sushi, tempura fried, then coverd with three types of hot sauces. We got to playing with one of my earrings, and that item got laughed about as I left it behind in the restaurant, "Yes, we could use these to catch more fish with," the maitre'de suggested, returning my catch. "Hey, you've got to come and get your brother, I've been hanging out with him too long, we're waiting with baited breath, get it?"
3/24
It's "not dead yet." "Cowboy, hey cowboy, over here!" And to think, all I did was put on my cowboy hat. You know, to go to California, wear something that definitely makes me look like I'm from Texas. Sometimes I forget, when I make travel arrangements, like yesterday morning, I wasn't going to CA, I was going to El Paso, then Albuquerque, then Phoenix, then San Diego, then Oakland, and finally wound up on the left coast. It was that very first jump, to El Paso, in the back of my mind, the Gourds were signing about going to El Paso. From the airport in Oakland.... [Some would suggest it just went downhill from there.] Berkeley at night — nothing I haven't seen before, and, oddly enough, part of the news was about that recent event in Austin. Sister never did materialize after midnight, for the promised feeding of her brother, but I was still running on Austin time, and I don't think any of it mattered.
3/23
Change my pitch up: Prodigy, Chemical Brothers, Leftfield, Orbital, and Fat Boy Slim. All that's a far cry from the country I've been listening to. I've recently upgraded my laptop to one of those super sexy, sleek, lightweight titanium skinned models. After having lunch with an ex yesterday, I know how my old PowerBook feels. I got a chance to compare myself to her current suitor, and the new guy is nothing short of gorgeous. Beautiful, pretty, even [in a manly way, of course]. I think she a did a real good job of upgrading for a better model. If I wasn't on familiar turf, it might've been a little strange, but on nice afternoon, with the usual afternoon crowd at Guero's, it was just perfect. But, in keeping with this week's apparent culinary trend, the lunch special was Barbacoa. There's something fittingly poetic about going to see my tree hugging, radical feminist, militant vegan Sister after eating nothing but that "Mexican Barbecue" for the last week — for the last three days, anyway. From Guero's, I wound up at the bookstore, desperately seeking something to read on the airplanes. The Virgo bookstore owner is a kindly soul, and he can usually make a good suggestion. And then, I got called to meet my Pisces friend, just in from the airport and Las Vegas, and we had us some Sushi with an Aquarius wait person. How do you tell someone, from their birthday, that the next few years are just going to be a bit weird?
3/22
Thought provoking, via slashdot. Then Bud's view from Ft. Worth (still one of my favorite towns.) I think I've got the new order form working now. Only been about 18 months in the construction phase. Yesterday afternoon was cool in the trailer, but almost hot outside. Because of publication deadlines — the bane of writing for a living — I had stuff to get out of the way. But once that was done, I stretched my legs out on the hike and bike trail, clearing some serious mileage. Unrelated images: an old guy passed me on bicycle, saying "Hello," and he was closely followed by a woman with electric pink hair. Around mile five, I gave in to the taco hut I was passing, and had the most delightful plate full of Barbacoa— again. The presentation was perfect: the plate was divided into four equal servings, refried beans, fresh pico [chopped: onion, jalapeño, tomato, cilantro], rice and Barbacoa. Because Barbacoa is such a rich food, it really tastes best mixed up with that fresh pico. Something this good, though, it's bound to be too rich for me. Sometimes I forget that I write to amuse myself, late last night, I was proofreading some stuff, and I found myself reaching for a dictionary to make sure I understood the word — one of my own words. Yes, now I know what it means. And there was one scope, just coming up, and it was a howler, it was so funny. I think it's in Capricorn soon. And now I'm off to lunch with my ex–girlfriend, at her request. If there are no more updates, check the bottom of the lake for my body.
3/21
I was amused to find out that the business Fishing Guide to the Stars and astrofish.net is considered to be on par with "titty bars" — although, to be fair, I didn't quite get the exact quote. Right, get your metaphysical lap dance here. This is the inherent problem with falling between the cracks in the business world. Next subject: the airline I'm flying — no frills — to the Left Coast this weekend — in the news. I shook the chairman's hand once, boarding a flight for Dallas. He was under the influence of something (legend would have it, Wild Turkey), and he passed out peanuts to help the staff on that flight. That won my heart. It's why there's no filter on the e–mail around here. Then there was that pretty tempting picture in the mail yesterday: blond female, huge fish, cigar. Life just doesn't get any better than this. [Maybe life is pretty good right here — barbacoa for lunch yesterday, a special — zesty — tasty treat. Literary reference for this meal ticket? The movie Giant.]
3/20
Looks like it really happens at noon, but today is the Spring Equinox. Happy, happy Aries. What timing. DSL arrived, full service, yesterday morning. Unexpected, but hey, I'm not one to argue with progress. Been some wonderful Jupiter stuff going on around here, new machines, new phones, all kinds of legal stuff getting taking care of, and frankly, I wonder about this supposed down turn in the economy. Given that Mars is conjunct Pluto right now, sort of makes me wonder, but there's been a certain press, like not quite enough time to get anything done but on the technical front. That earthlink.net DSL hookup works like a champion. The browsing wasn't that much faster, but the upload times on the website — oh yes. No more watching the little progress bar. It just flies. I looked at some other examples, and not feeling like scripting up an entire splash movie, I just added to what's already there. Sure it's lame, but you know, I did it all myself, right in the back of a trailer in South Austin. I got to examining the DSL modem, and that got me thinking about the way technology progresses. I remember my first 1200 baud modem, then a super fast 2400 one, same size, nearly a foot long, and that gave way to smaller 14,400 which was just really super fast — throughput late at night was 2 or 3K [something]. Then came 28.8 — super fast. Each modem was in the $100-$200 price range. This recent install — the modem is about the same size as that old 14–4, about the same amount of heat output, about the same price, cheaper if you consider 90's dollars compared to current dollars, but the speed? I was registering 20K [something]. Right — this is progress. Happy Aries.