Lost Tide

I've been away. Well, no. I've been right here. But I suppose I have drifted. In more ways than one, but the drifting always brings me back to here. What's there to prevent my acceptance of my current state of living as perpetual, except the very fear of perpetuation? Hell, even my concerns stagnate. I feel like I've answered all the questions I'll be able to answer for the foreseeable future. I've got nothing left to do but ask the ones that don't have answers.

A list:

Busted into the new ECE building in the new quad with Janani in the middle of the night and left whiteboard messages complimenting the workers on the new building.

Went to a moving-out party at Danielle's old apartment, met a girl named Christine who played bass, idolized Victor Wooten, and named her dog Ringo (after Starr), before wandering, with Miguel and Sterling, with Michelle Z. and housemates to their house, where we watched TV (personally, I fell asleep on the couch) until 6:30AM.

Later that day, after a bit of sleep, went down to upper Federal Hill to my old Cellular & Molecular Physiology TA, Zach's housewarming party. He and his girlfriend Mattie packed good beer, homemade ice cream, and other good eats. Most of the people there were Mattie's co-workers at O'Malley's campaign office, very recent-Georgetown-graduate-looking types. They made me a little less relaxed than I could've, but coincidentally Krishna, my TA from the ill-fated X-ray Crystallography class this past spring, was there, and we talked for a long while about science, culture shock, and other such things. She also gave me a lift home even though she lived in Mt. Vernon, which was kind of her. Before we left, Zach mentioned he might want to start a band now that he's done with coursework. Told him to keep me in mind. Since then, he's mentioned that he would like to start a "drum machine and loud guitar project, like Big Black"--what do you know, just a few of my favorite things.

The Verve reunite. With all original members.

Drove down to DC's Ft. Reno with Sterling to see Joe Lally and The Evens with Jess and Thom on the 2nd. Blasted Q & Not U all the way down. Ran into Parschalk and his friends, too. Was hoping for a surprise Fugazi performance--as were over half the people present, most likely--but it didn't happen. No matter. Joe Lally's set was Zen--quite literally so, on the last song--and Ian Mackaye had massive commanding presence in The Evens, even though they were only a baritone guitar/effected drums two-piece. Sure he lectured, sure he ordered the crowd around, sure he ranted about the government, but people sure as hell listened. Being on DC's home turf helped, I reckon. Later we went to Whole Foods, where a guy mistook me for the drummer from a Richmond band called Hot Lava--I had never heard of them until that day--while I was buying seafood gumbo. "Is he skinny and Asian, wears glasses?" I asked him. Blasted Bad Brains all the way back.

Went to see Thrushes and Monarch open for A Sunny Day in Glasgow at the Metro Gallery on the 3rd. It's an excellent new venue: Station north location, part art gallery, arching ceilings and classy lighting, glass windows facing Charles St. and the station. A lot of people were there: Anna C., Diamond, Sterling (the duo perennially without anything to do), Melissa, and her roommate Yana. Colin (ex-Snap Ending, current-Named Extinction) showed up too, to my surprise; I hadn't seen him in forever. It turned out not only did he know one of the sisters in Glasgow, his brother even dated the other one. So between Diamond, Colin and I we knew people from 3 of the 5 bands there. Not bad. Colin left early though, before I could actually ask him how he'd been the past few months. Seeing Monarch play "If Children Were Wishes" live for the second time somehow convinced me to buy their album. I suspect it's because that song is absolutely devastating in person. Thrushes destroyed as usual, the Gallery's open spaces lending an extra kick of natural reverb. Finally decided to tell Rachel to turn her bass amp up.

4th, stood around Miguel's kitchen, ate meat and drank beer. Sort of like we do every single time we get an excuse. I don't want to do that every gratuitous national holiday for the next two decades, though, so I suppose I'll have to come up with a better idea on my own sometime. Saw fireworks from faraway, through the hazy rain. Christine brought by a pie. There was a gumball in it.

One night I found myself sitting in the darkened, dilapidated Methodist church down St. Paul with about 10 other kids, none of whom I knew, all in chairs, armchairs and folding chairs and even a wheelchair, watching a one-man guitar-and-drum-machine act and an acoustic folk-punk act kill it while a French documentary about insects was projected silently onto a screen behind them, and a girl with arms full of tattoos twirled and danced in the middle of the room.

I sampled a couple of 5-second clips from a skipping British Sea Power album, reversed one, put them both through reverb patches, looped them for over seven minutes while feeding back the return tracks, added Conet Project samples, a sub-bass sinewave synth, and a looped sequence on a Mellotron-sounding plugin, and called it the phrase at the top of this entry.

Wandered into the bookstore one day and found a book titled God is Dead, by Ron Currie Jr. Read most of it in the store, decided to buy it, finished it sitting under a tree. World Wars waged between Postmodern Anthropologists and Evolutionary Psychologists, and so on.

Yuli called.

I'm oddly literal these days. Used to use more metaphors. Suppose I'm less motivated to try and find meaning when I'm less convinced there's meaning to be found. Suppose I'm less inclined to try and resolve things in my life when there's nothing to be resolved, or, no resolutions.

But then again, I always feel a little bit cold and indifferent at 2:30AM. Except on the really good and really bad days. I haven't had either in too long. I'll see if I still agree at a later point.