Waiting for the train:

I passed by Michael Bolton this morning. Bolton, if he was created by Anne Rice, circa 1990. He had holes in his jeans, at the knees; the holes partially hidden by the black trenchcoat he was wearing. The coat didn't hide his chest too well, mainly because he wasn't wearing a shirt. The jacket was open, his hands in the pockets and he moved them around, a bat flapping its wings. His chest appeard hairless and toned. His hair was dirty and he was wearing sunglasses. When I walked by, someone smelled of BO, though the platform was too crowded to tell if it was him.

He creeped me out a bit. I couldn't stop thinking about him as a vampire, 15 years behind the times.

On Thursday, on my commute, I sat upstairs on the train. They are single seats, in a row along each side of the train. The middle space is somewhat open — there is a shelf there, but you can see across the aisle, as well as down to the seats below.

A cute girl was across the aisle from me, listening to an iPod and zoning out. About 3/4 of the way into the ride, the guy sitting 2 seas behind me asked for a pen. He was unshaven, in a grey cammo hoodie, low slung jeans and a baseball cap that said 420 on it. I loaned him a pen.

Minutes and minutes go by. I am about to ask for it back, as my stop is approaching, when he taps on my shoulder and returns it. He was two seats behind me, so he had to stand to do this. In the following motion, he leans across the aisle and offers the girl a note. She takes it, reads it and smiles. He sits down.

I watch her chuckle over it. I also know better than to ever try to pick up a woman on the train. I think it might be ok if you aren't really trying. But R has horror stories about men not leaving her alone and it seems to be par for the course. I don't want to be in that bucket.

But kudos to this guy for trying, even if it was a terrible attempt.

Because when she saw that they were getting off at the same stop, she cursed under her breath. And then walked very slowly to the door, trying to avoid him.

i spoke to my parents several times this weekend. a usual event, but this time around, they (mainly my father) kept asking 'what was going on?'

this is the type of question i hate, though i use it a lot. how many times have i asked you 'what else?' when playing catch-up? too many. it isn't a secret, just hypocritical.

and the truth?

nothing is going on. the funk i was feeling seems to have washed over and away somehow. i don't feel frustration at the moment wondering what my life is supposed to be, what i am supposed to do to make a difference, overwhelmed by the realization that i am one of millions and millions of humans alive right at this moment. and that, for the history of mankind, the odds are against me in terms of doing anything to impact mankinds path.

whew. no wonder i was having trouble with life.

so what am i doing? what am i up to?

i don't know, honestly. i have been doing a lot of hanging out, meeting people, seeing people, talking, drinking. just letting go.

but that's boring. it doesn't make good stories. or blog posts.

i can't make up for it at the moment, but i can give you two pictures to at least give your eyes something to see:

1. me as the caterpillar in my 5th grade 'alice in wonderland' play. i was already an alice junkie beforehand — i remember walking in and saying i wanted to play the caterpillar or bill the lizard. of course, this was the disney version and there was no bill the lizard. i got the part of the caterpillar and, thanks to the costume my mom made, i rocked the house. i was seriously uncool at this point in my life, but this was a little rainbow that shined through.

2. a portrait taken on the train last week. i have a script on my computer to take a picture with the isight every 30 minutes, dumped into a folder. i haven't done anything with them yet, save posting this one. most are bad and unflattering. this one wasn't, so i figured i'd throw up a recent picture of myself.

like ray, i compose posts in my head all the time. i haven't yet found a system for documenting them easily, so most die on the vine. and these days, the time i actually find 'free' are times when i am drained or momentarily free. so let's see how i do with a dump of bits and pieces that have probably piled up:

1. the new underworld album, 'oblivion with bells.' i wasn't in love with it the first time i listened, but it has begun to grow on me some after 5 or 6 listens. i still think the first three tracks make an excellent 20 minutes-ish of listening; the jury is out a little more about the rest.

2. i've moved my ticket to la a bit, so that i can be there in time to attend a screening of cece's movie, 'i'll believe you.' cece and i grew up a couple doors apart from each other; she is out in la writing and acting. she is lead in this movie, shot in '03 and finally seeing a limited theatrical release this weekend.

3. we are moving offices at work tomorrow. this means that today is the last day i will be working in downtown sf proper. monday, i will be reporting at the new office, right by the giants ballpark. one day, i might even work up the energy to tell you what i do for a living these days. needless to say, it involves media and programming. a lot of both.

4. i just saw an owens and minor truck, parked on a road. i'm on the train, rolling up to the city. o&m was the first place i worked out of college, with matthew, on their internet/intranet sites. that's been about 10 years and feels like 4 lifetimes, so it always surprises me when little things like trucks pop up.

5. i took my mac mini in on halloween to get repaired. the consistent kernel panics had turned into the machine failing to boot. when the guy at the genius bar tried to turn it, it wouldn't do a thing. a pretend brick. so they took it to repair. "5 to 7 days." on day 7, i called apple. my motherboard had died. so they had ordered a new one to put in. guess what? that one was defective too. so they had to order another one. and that's why we are on day 9 of the repair.

even better, apple's site says 'repair in progress' and offers no more information. and when i called and got the above info, i was also told that there 'was no eta'. awesome. i look forward to the repair taking forever. i'm unsure at what point i can ask for compensation, nor am i sure what i can actually for. which means i can't really ask for anything. i have no desire to be the guy who tries to get a free copy of leopard or something. (like the guy next to me at the genius bar when i dropped the machine off.)

5. rachael is out of town now. i stayed up until 1 last night, playing videogames. and then screwed up the alarm clock. this i blame on the fact that she is the alarm clock setter of the two of us. i turned it on when i went to bed. sadly, we have 2 alarm clocks and i turned on the one we no longer use. so my alarm was set to go off at midnight, having never been changed from the last time the power went out. i woke up in time, mostly. still, i see another night of not moving from the tv in my immediate future. (for two reasons: 1. i have to wake up early for this flight to la and 2. nick never responded to my email about going to see dmitiri from paris tonight for 10 bucks.)

6. programming time.

mix:
1 caltrain ride from sf to palo alto
1 ipod playing the mighty dub katz's 'magic carpet ride' (c'mon, fatboy slim before he was fbs)
1 friday afternoon
1 can of sapporo
1 realization that it isn't a richmond balcony with a megaphone (but then what is?)

mix heavily.

enjoy as a clear moment of utter contentment.

was going to respond to tripps post on my last post, but i decided to just post again. i was thinking how difficult it is to 1. get up the courage to talk to a girl in the fist place. and then 2. talk to her while waiting for the train? for some reason, it just seems like an odd place to strike up a conversation, but maybe i'm just being way too dramatic. there is nothing wrong with being friendly. and if the girl isn't interested in talking to you further, then just leave it at that. maybe the fact that the girl was reading a book is even reason to strike up a conversation. who knows what could happen.
in a related story, today on the way home im waiting for the train. the platform is crowded, its hot. i just left work, and i dont really want to talk to anyone, i just want to get into an air-conditioned train car and ride home. but this guy walks up and stands beside me. i am not wearing my ipod and not reading a book. he asks me about when the train comes and if all these people will fit in the train. so i give him a short answer, and i think to myself for a sec. 'fuck man, another gay dude is hitting on me' (because for some reason this week seems to be the gay dudes hit on bitzao week, and im getting quite tired of it.) but he seems harmless enough and he asks me another question about the train. and then i say to him 'where are you from'. i learn that he is from portland, is married, has kids, and just went to the MOMA.
okay, so this gives me hope. but then there is the whole commuting thing. lets just say i do meet a girl on the subway and we hit it off. if we have the same commute every day, how much is that going to suck if things don't work out.

my great-uncle died on the 4th. i got the call as we were grilling at john's. this one came from my father.

i hadn't seen phil in years and years, something that made none of us very happy. (us being my immediate family.) after my grandfather died, when i was 5, phil was around a bit and i was always amazed, even at that age, at how much alike he and my grandfather seemed to be.

i wish i had more details or a picture. but i don't. the obit in the richmond times dispatch merely reads:
"VICTORIA — Millican, Mr. Phillip Gordon, 85, a retired conductor for the Virginian and Norfolk & Western railroads, husband of Ruth H. Millican."

i'm sure someone who knew phil as an adult could speak more about him. my memories are much more childlike. but i can tell you that phil ruled when it came to playig with us. i have nothing but fondness for him in my heart.

and, as an aside, i'm not sure until i saw the obit that i realized he was a conductor. conductors, engineers, collectors — after soph died a few months ago, i realized how much i enjoy riding trains. and i had several conversations with people about how i prefer trains to buses. i guess i didn't know that trains run in my blood even more than i thought.