Am I blogging...or am I pitching my existence?
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| High Concept Am I blogging...or am I pitching my existence? |
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Saturday, April 24, 2004 The Pitch: It's like Poetry meets Irony! No, I have no idea what The Pitch means, either. I just got tired of trying to think of a title...It's a perfect boiling summer day (in April as these things usually are in San Francisco) so of course the next door neighbor is having himself a good old-fashioned barbecue. I took the day off work because the idea of coming home at night with Edi gone was just too depressing. Things are only marginally less so being here the whole day with people chattering over loud music next door, and I'd probably be equally low if it wasn't for my old drinking buddy, the Playstation 2. It's mainly been more of the super-addictive Romance of the Three Kingdoms VII, which has obsessed me most of the last week, and a little bit of SOCOM: Navy Seals which seems pretty fuckin' cool if I could get beyond having my squad kill people when they're supposed to be holding their fire. It's a real kick to talk into a headset and have the computer talk back: ME: Team, hold your fire. BOOMER: Holding fire, sir. Then, just as I'm about to sneak up and cut somebody's throat, a shot rings out: BOOMER: Got 'em! ME: Boomer, you dumbfuck... RECON: Seals, your cover has been blown. Probably just as well, I don't really need another game to obsess about. I'm hoping my long campaign as Warlord will tide me over in ROTK and I can get around to some of the other stuff I told the girlfriend I'd do, like vaccuuming and sweeping and stuff. I've also been cleaning up the Nanovel of '03, just correcting my nearly infinite number of typos. I sorta wanted to get it finished so I could, I dunno, put it to rest, poor unfinished thing, and move on to the stuff I want to finish--which I also have to organize because I've kind of got myself thoroughly lost. If I can't get the one out of the way, I'll never get to the other, and I'm running out of stalling techniques for those mornings before work. I experienced unexpected closure today, by the way. Even I couldn't resist such a beautiful day, so I got out and hiked over the hill to Cortland, in part to return a late video (oops! Heh, heh...) but also to get out in the sun and the heat. Whenever I go to the videostore, I have this little thing I do--I cross the street to Red Hill Books, the tiny new & used place, and I look for used copies of Cormac McCarthy's Suttree and Delillo's Americana. I have to admit, I have a copy of Suttree but it's in an arm-breaking McCarthy omnibus that I thought would save me some money way back when and has only resulted in me not reading the book because of the dread of shlepping the thing around. And Delillo's Americana I can find everywhere new, but for some reason I'm insistent on reading it used--I wish I could tell you why. As I was saying, it's my little habit, my nervous tic: go the bookstore check out the 'D' and 'M' sections, and it's always played out the same: bupkis. But of course, today, probably because I walked over the hill without my bag and because I'm pretty dead-ass broke until Friday, there were used copies of both books. Finally, after spending the better part of six months looking in this one bookstore (and longer looking at every used bookstore), they were both there on the same day. I could feel fate snickering on my bare neck: Hey, sweaty boy. Thought you said you wanted these. Too bad you don't have the cash for it... So of course I bought them anyway, and will probably spend part of my Edi-less Sunday selling off old CDs to Streetlight, just to keep me in Ramen until payday. On the one hand, I feel immeasurably silly. On the other, I feel a bit like Boomer must feel when he shoots my stealth kill out from under me and fucks up my mission: Booyah, dickhead! No disembodied fucker tells me what to do! posted by Jeff Lester | 5:38 PM | |
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