18 posts tagged “weekend”
If you listen very carefully you can hear it whisper “I wish I was an Autobot”
Yesterday began as it ended, surrounded by a crowd of revelers, some familiar, most unfamiliar. Yesterday began again as a six AM growl, a wag and a whimper ringing me back into the frame of responsibilities. Yesterday began in earnest as a chorus of hangover empathy, short americanos and plum muffins and scraps of the New York Times. Yesterday began as latent fingering of Twitters mourning the butchering of Daft Punk by someone Danger Mouse too late and Spooky not enough. Yesterday began as plans for film screenings, rock shows, brunch and selling cars. Yesterday’s blueprints were carefully followed.
Yesterday forced hard decisions. Yesterday continued, cracking doors previously sealed, exploring means of converting liability into asset. Yesterday, options yelled louder than conceptual obstacles, simultaneously old, new, frightening and brave. Yesterday was warm enough to sit outside in front of Piccino. Yesterday was about three breakfasts. Yesterday was spent in unlikely company. Yesterday, everyone’s motives were obvious.
Yesterday revisited previous yesterdays. Glorious! New! Print! Yesterday afternoon was made for Blade Runner and motorcycle rides. Yesterday was an exercise in patience for the commerce lemmings infesting Union Square and its abortive crosswalk/intersection (plan). Yesterday afternoon was made for gallery visits and missed attempts to drink craft beer and noodles. Yesterday was for long conversations on social graphs, interfaces and hacking companies. Yesterday shifted from bright and clear to gray and distinct. Yesterday was out of phase, skipping every other planned destination. Yesterday was a must-visit to the last day showing eight thousand dollar Argentine nude sculptures. Yesterday was interrupted by another crude instrument of commerce, a necessary evil to reckon with. Yesterday was triage.
Yesterday I sold my car, seeded a new savings account and started earning miles on every purchase. Yesterday spake financial freedom and personal satisfaction. Highest quality! Superior craftsmanship! Yesterday had too many cigarettes. Yesterday meant spending two hours in transit fleeing the soul crushing flatness of Stevens Creek Boulevard. Yesterday held the first hour of reading a book, uninterrupted, in weeks. Yesterday Digitalism was on repeat. Yesterday I felt sorry for the people I’ve met who will never build something great. Yesterday they were the minority.
Yesterday evening emerged from Caltrain in situ, Potrero. Yesterday my building stood recently groomed and made respectable; the neuroses of my neighbors, their planters and their prejudices notwithstanding. Yesterday there were was live painting to attend, a rock show and two bad sweater parties. Yesterday skipped every other beat. Yesterday night coiled up and sprung in Eric’s Saab towards The Rickshaw Stop, and rang out in front of the stage with Elise dancing to The Morning Benders. Yesterday’s music was worth waiting for. Yesterday night was primed with Fernet and Stella. And Stella. And Stella. Yesterday was Ford and Derek, Robin and Random, Brian and Caylie, Eric and Elise, Lane and Layla, Beau, Jon and Charm, Leslie, Elliot and Ali, Willo, Lauren and Mark. Yesterday I learned and forgot your name.
Yesterday slipped away to the notes of the Heavenly States, and we ducked out into the night to invest the first minutes of Today in the company of bad sweaters, holiday tunes, the brilliant and the sexy, in Mission victorian kitchens and hallways. Yesterday was amongst true believers in organic tobacco. Yesterday, guile and SMS rescued an orphaned credit card. Yesterday ended under smoke and wine, closing the balance upset at the start; the bad taste of yesterday’s yesterday washed away with smiles and cheers, dancing and crushing, sincere embraces; no Daft Punk except in memory, stuck in my head until Yesterday became yesterday.
On Friday night, Tina and I went to go see the new Pirates of Caribbean movie.
Saturday, woke up at 6 am to go climbing at Castle Rock with Chris and a crew of people from the Bay Area Outdoor Adventure Club. Dinner & drinks at Suppenkuche, then fell dead asleep. Sue hooked me up with a sweet T-shirt, too.
On Sunday, Tina and I went to Kara’s Cupcakes in the Marina, then to Marin to go hunting for bicycles, jerseys and planters. Went to the Ducati dealership too. Dealt with a parking douchebag in Mill Valley and took Pista to the dogrun. Watched a documentary on Fred Phelps, and slept well (again).
On Monday, woke up ad took Pista to the dogpark. Rode my fixie to Mill Valley for the Memorial Day parade & pancake breakfast. Went to a barbecue at Chris’ house, drank divine wasabi bloody marys, and ate awesome cookies and burgers. Then went sofa shopping with the crew and returned home for some dinner & watched the Lost season finale.
In a little over an hour, Tina and I will be heading down to SoCal for the Butterfield Double Century. I’m keeping my fingers crossed the Sixaflu that attacked me earlier this week will have been drubbed out of my system by tomorrow morning. I feel well enough to drive, I hope that upward trend continues. Here’s to vitamin C!
On Saturday, Pista got to run in Alamo Square with Stella in a brief window when it stopped raining. Noshed with Jen and Jay at BlueJay Cafe. Bacon, eggs & blueberry pancakes = teh win. Earlier Pista and I went to the Potrero Sports Basement, and after brunch we went to the Presidio store. Pista had snacked on my black shell jacket (the fifth one if you’re counting) and it was time to get more fodder for the Maw. Hoping for a week’s worth of jacket usage this time.
Spent no money at the 2nd SB visit (yes!) but did drop a lot of coin putting together my costume for Misty’s ever-awesome annual Procrastinator’s New Year’s Eve party. I was the Math Avenger, mild-mannered math professor by day, and smacktalking, derivative-calculating, vigilante superhero by night. Will post more about this in a bit…
Before the trip to Clothes by the Pound, I hit Munroe Motors for the Ducati 1098 launch. They had a single 1098S (apparently the S stands for sold), sandwiches and posters to give away. Most people ignored all of that and just lusted after the new bike. It looks better in person than in pictures. Really, drool.
Edit: Realized this post doesn’t contain any mention of cycling or rock-climbing. I went cycling today with Tina (we rocked a modified combined Fairfax + Paradise loop for a solid 68 miles or so. Did it on the fixie because I’m badass like that the road bike’s in the shop. Sunday weather totally made up for the shitty Saturday. Tyson at American insists my bike will be ready by Tuesday for our double next weekend. Excited!
Edit: Rock climbing!
Tina and I rode 160 miles this weekend. 75 on Saturday, taking a modified Mt. Tam, Seven Sisters + Alpine Dam route, out through Fairfax with a Strawberry detour. 85 on Sunday, on this brutal fun Luna Chix training route that took us to the top of every hill in Oakland, some twice.
High point: Riding on near-abandoned east bay roads on Super Bowl Sunday.
Low point: Missing Prince’s halftime show by 5 minutes.
I went to bed at 9. Pista was happy about that…
I finally got to some long-put-off reorganization of my home office. Part of my procrastination was related to the task of relocating my monitor. I have a very shallow desk, and for that reason the monitor is mounted on the wall with a nice aluminum VESA mount. If you need to mount a flat-panel on a wall (or other), I highly recommend the Sanus VM-1. I have two; the second is used to affix the TV to the staircase.
At any rate, my previous installation had left the screws affixing it to the wall in less-than-adequate condition. The top bolt was nearly stripped, probably because I’d used a cheap allen key with a lot of slop. Secondly, it was really stuck in there. I tried a half-dozen different allen keys, screwdrivers, pliers, and even tried prying the head of the screw off with a hammer & screwdriver. That only succeeded in damaging the mount. I then tried filing down the edge of the bolt head to put a socket on it. Failed.
A desperate rummage through my toolbox yielded a vintage wrench that I’d found on the street a few years ago. It was small, curved, and according to a stamp on the handle: patented. What the hell, I thought and gave it a shot. The first attempt failed, but then I realized that the wrench was not only adjustable, but had a pivot as well. If I flipped the wrench around, then the tourque of pulling the wrench around (or the bolt resisting said torque) would tighten the wrench’s grip on the screw head. Aha!
After a few turns, I had succeeded in getting the rotten bolt out of the wall, and salvaged the mount base. Success!
