19 December 1999
on the page...
Haruki Murakami's
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
in my cd player...
Lullaby for the Working Class...
I Didn't Even Ask for Light
People
often ask me how I find out about the music that I listen
to... and in this case, I got word of this band from a
San Franciscan's web log that I read almost every day. I
think that if I connect with the person, I'll likely
connect with their musical sensibilities. It's how I
discovered Tsunami and The Spinanes... the theory has yet
to be disproved.
woody allenesque...
Earlier today, Julia and I sat in the window at TeaLuxe
in Harvard Square at dusk... talking and watching and
laughing. I told her I felt like we were in a Woody Allen
film... and she agreed that the music and the setting and the
mood made her feel the same way.
envy...
The bookstore sponsored an Author Afternoon
on Saturday... local authors like Arthur Golden, Stephen
McCauley, Michael Lowenthal, and Elizabeth Berg mingling among
the crowd. They all appeared so cordial and confident and
easy to envy.
in my comment field...
"And how is it that our lives can
become drained of the possibility of forgiveness and
kindness--- so drained that even one small act of mercy
becomes a potent lifelong memory?"
Douglas Coupland
mood swings...
Yesterday I was up up up... chatting and
laughing and enjoying the normal bookstore madness. But
when I sat down for lunch, I seemingly ingested something
venomous that leaked its melancholy into my system. It
wasn't something said or heard... but simply something
felt and realized inside that made me feel achy and lost.
crush...
It startles me how quickly crushes develop... and how
flushed I feel when he's around.