Phone tree 1

It has been a while.

I talked on the telephone today more than I can recall doing since working in a place where my job was to be on the phone.

I say that I don't like to talk on the tele, and that is partly true. I almost never answer unidentified numbers when they appear; maybe 1 out of 20 on some odd hunch that I should. With those folks that I do know, I admit there is a hierarchy to the probability of answering, but excuses to decline hitting the green button affect even the highest ranking .

Telephones are fucking invasive! Moreso to me than any other form of communication, short of walking up to unsuspecting people and initiating conversation. They twingle, demanding attention within a set timespan, and you are given no preview of what is to come once it begins, save perhaps knowing who owns the number calling. And once you're connected, it's socially binding. In non-business phone exchanges one almost always has to give a plausible (but not insulting) rationale for terminating the dialog.

Strange history I've had with the telecom dimension on the whole. At a preternaturally young age I had access to a computer and rapidly persuaded my way into a dedicated phone line for the family castle. There may have been actual legitimate business uses for the 'data' line. I honestly don't recall, although as the general 'sysadmin' for the machine, I knew this was not the primary function of either the machine, or the copper wire that from our house to the street.

Privacy signatures

I when I was a youth in the Southeastern US, at an early age my grandmother gave me my ceremonial set of letterpressed 3.5 x 2 cards with my full name on them. It was a formal Southern rite of passage, not unlike the silver monogrammed spoon (although this latter tradition had already degenerated by my time). I was too young to pay much attention to their quality or use at that age, and the social relevance of the things took a serious dive during the time I was in gradeschool. (Or maybe the users of my cards drifted outside social of spheres which prized such protocol?) They were used on gifts at the more formal childrens' parties, family Christmas, and given to girls (compulsory) at cotillion.

Thinking on these sliver memes tonight, it's interesting to see that those cards were not only not cheap, but that they were treasured, with definite value and context. Certainly a currency of etiquette which has fallen into obscurity.

I have never been employed in such a way that it was in any real way important for me to carry and hand out business cards. I have had probably 10 full boxes of 10 different manifestations of personalized paper infocards, but have only ever given out 100 or less. There is a specificity and narrow context to "business cards" which differs regrettably from the data-packet that was the letterpressed name card of my youth, or from the minimalist certainty of Patrick Bateman and his peers.

I have always desired a "card" that was not only a sigil of myself which can be given to a person in a sigilized, pocket friendly format (which a name unquestionably is), but was itself a conduit for relating to me.

Fernicus ascendant

LAftermath

First off, Laughtermath is pure genius of a word, unfortunately laughtermath.com is taken.

The closure of the LA trip was pretty tame. Saturday I met with A in the early afternoon and we ate burritos and bought a huge motherfucking plasmatronic television machine. Back to her house to move it in. Slightly ludicrous what with there being literally nothing else in the place. We were originally planning to go to some apparently well known house DJ which her roommate apparently put us on the guestlist for (although it was still $20?), but A just wanted to stay in which was fine by me. So basically an evening spent playing Xbox and drinking beer on the floor.

Woke up in the morning after a grueling night's sleep with a hoodie for a headrest on the hardwood floor, and shoved off for the airport. Ate a huge greasy breakfast, the kind that I am generally mortally opposed to, at a greasy spoon place called Grinders. " Standard business goodbyes at the curb, low in emotional content for us both I think.

Randomly selected for security search, as seems to be a new trend for me these days, and apparently not caused by my Imperial Eagle belt buckle as I had begun to suspect, since it is currently in England somewhere. Full flight, no food. I read and meditated in the air to Dallas, drank beer for a few hours there, then air-napped to Atlanta. Had arranged for J to pick me up at MARTA, which he did, and we headed to his house for further drinking action and to watch The Darjeeling Limited. Fantastic movie, and one which had he and I toasting our brotherhood and vowing to take a trip together soon; hopefully to India!

He went to bed and I played Assassin's Creed for an hour or so, simply because it is so goddamn fun to stab people in that game. Woke to ride with J to get the car from Wellington.

And then I came back to the Midtown house, which I am resisting calling the A-Hole.

LAday 2

Yesterday was fairly quiet. B went to work and I just bummed around her house watching TV and futzing around online for the most part. I walked around the neighborhood for a while, but aside from some of the luxury houses up the hill, there isn't a great deal of interesting scenery in the immediate area of her apartment that I have found. In the vicinity there are literally dozens of Thai restaurants though - 4 to 6 per block. Otherwise not too much different from other urban neighborhoods. Jumbo's Clown room had me curious, but alas it was not open.

I walked to Ralph's to get something to cook for our dinner as we had decided to stay in tonight. I settled on garlic baked salmon with risotto and asparagus as that is fairly easy stuff that doesn't depend on already having much in the kitchen, and usually I can make turn out pretty well. Also picked up some wine and Leffe blond (introduced to me recently in the UK, and that is some tasty shit!) plus Triscuits, cheese, and green apples as those three items make up about half of my diet.

She returned home from work around 20:30 after looking at some potential places to live. I set to cooking while she heads upstairs to pack for her trip to San Francisco for a burlesque festival she is participating in over the weekend. Really a shame that I am not able to go to this, but I suppose that is a risk of chaostravel. Dinner went off reasonably well although not amazing. Overcooked everything a little, but the wine was excellent. For the rest of the evening we just lounged around on the couch watching various HBO style drama serials before hitting the sack.

Woke up this morning and drove her to work at around 08:30 then back again, arriving at maybe 10:30. Spent some time cleaning the place up, and now here I am - alone in LA with a sweet apartment and car, but not sure what to do with myself for the weekend.

Chances are good that I will go to Das Bunker this evening, and after talking with A earlier seems as though we'll probably grab dinner and attend together. Yet another strange pantomime or altered repetition of past days of our relationship...

I have few clothes with me though - especially not things up to snuff for the fetish club. Perhaps I will raid B's closet and wear a vinyl dress or some such. That would most likely be of help in meeting new people in an unfamiliar town.

At LAst

Arrived in LA yesterday afternoon and headed immediately to unpack the car at the temporary apartment. Didn't meet the potential roommate, but seemed sane and interesting enough from the look of the place. We left to go find food, which went disasterously, and I ended up just volunteering to be dropped off at B's work. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Found a nice deli around the corner and got a fantastic tuna BLT and beer. No internet or outlets though, and battery discipline waning on all systems. A few blocks walk all together before I came to the studio(?). Effects processing house they would say. Looked like an ad agency from the decor, razor scooters, and free tea bar, but definitely looked like a decent place to work. B is busy so I just plop in the lobby and start charging.

Eventually she comes out and we exchange a little. She's looking Summery in a white dress and platinum hair. Obviously in work mode, but still sweet in a subtle, Southern way. It's a few hours before she is able to leave, but here is as good as anywhere for me to be indoors, what with internet, electricity, free beverages, and cute receptionist who is having trouble getting the lobby AV machines working.

It is damn hot in a black shirt in LA carrying all your stuff in a bag.

At 6 she emerges and we head off in her Toyota. The plan is to go look at several apartments she is looking to rent next month in Hollywood. iPhone GPS to the task again. That shit is so fucking useful! It's a long trafficky drive but this affords a good chance for us to converse and to rekindle rapport. Just driving around smoking cigarettes and bullshitting about LA and "what has been going on." The first two places on the list were just drivebys really, but the third was live, and we went in and to tour and talk about the place with two lovely girls, two annoying dogs, and two indifferent cats.

Sushi at a super cute sushi place with sit-on-the-floor tables, and my new favorite sake which I have forgotten the name of. Sugoi! B and I talk more seriously about our lives and the microcosm - money, career(sic), social landscapes. And so it begins.

We leave and get a bottle of wine back to her house, then drink it on the roof porch with some cigarettes and smoke. Beautiful view of Hollywood from here and it is a barely cool night. We speak in greater depth about ourselves and each other. Goals and aspirations. Similarities and differences. The "future." She wants a mate. A powerful longing for a true partner. "Why do I not have this?" she asks of me.

And I can relate.

I have a longing which is not unlike that.

She paints a picture of how what we want is the same. But we stand in front of the Hollywood hills, and she tells me how she wants to be up there. And I don't think I do.

Texas mainly

Left for a fairly unexpected trip to Los Angeles yesterday morning to help A drive out and move some of her things; I'll be flying back Sunday. This happens exactly at the time I am having to suddenly and unexpectedly move out of my existing living situation, so in a strange way it is in sync with the vectors I have been dealing with in that regard.

The decision to come with her was partly hit upon as a part of a larger arrangement for me to move into her house for a period to sell some of the things she is leaving, and generally get the place in rentable order over the next few weeks. For me, a good opportunity to make some money and have a fairly fluid place to stay, and for her my organization will hopefully be of good help.

Here's to hoping that whole process goes smoothly.

The entire plan really came together over a few hours, which is novel since we have spoken quite rarely over recent times. Saturday I went to her moving sale for a few hours, then to the bar for the going away party. All of that went well, but I had been slowly drinking all day at the sale, and after a few more drinks once out I was ready to turn in. At home had a good conversation with C about the general state of microcosmic affairs and then passed out.

Sunday I took the pickup to A's midtown house to help her pack the car. The house in serious disorder following the sale, and still full of loads upon loads of both garbage and gold. We confirm more specifically that I'll move in, what will get done with what, timeframes, etc. The car gets packed for the most part, although it is a little haphazard at points, and VERY fucking full. We went to eat sushi, then A and I packed the minimalist room that I had been staying in on Clay street in about 30 minutes, and moved it over to the warzone that is her place. Spent the night at Wellington and she picked me up at around 7am from there to hit the road for LA.

There's often not much to tell about long drives in my experience. I will say that the two of us have been getting along well and generally having a good time with one another. The car itself is not terribly comfortable, but not unbearable either. More than anything it is simply at maximum capacity. I have taken long spans of meditation while she has driven which have gone well, although the threat of interruption is always there. Sleep is impossible for me due to ergonomics. The cats are complainy, but generally well behaved.

So it's now early Tuesday afternoon and we have been driving for a few hours after staying at the cheapest room we could find in a 10 mile area. On the road toward El Paso, I am hoping to reach Phoenix tonight and have a chance to rendezvous with friends there, but we'll see how that plays out.