Painful Introspection via the Crossword Puzzle

Now that I am completely moved in (having picked up the last of my boxes in Oakland last weekend) I am at a terrible loss of things to do. Not that idleness is a decidedly bad thing, but I'm just not very comfortable with it. I get anxious if I'm not out of bed and dressed before the breakfast hour is over. Today was the most-least eventful day that I've had in a while. I sat in the sun and did the onion and guardian crossword puzzles. I find this to be a rather relaxing pastime although I'm as dishonest as Pete Rose and I look things up on the internet from time to time. I did, however, get the answer 'Isle of Elba' last night. So there. I wandered out into the neighborhood and had a bagel, and then walked to the drugstore to find some Immodium as per my shopping list. I am suffering from all manner of dysentery after eating leftover Indian food the other day. The trots are no good. An old woman in Walgreens actually heard me mutter 'I'm pissing out of my ass' as I wandered the aisles like a drunk.















I quickly returned to my apartment, wary of being more than 15 feet from a toilet, trash can or cardboard box. I took solace in gluing together a piggy bank that says 'Kapitalisten Schwein' which I got in Germany a few years ago. It, like a multitude of other fragile items was smashed nearly beyond recognition in the cross-country move.














Last night, while clutching guts, I managed a few hours out at the rickshaw stop for some sort of function sponsored by the onion's beer appreciation society. It involved a few free kegs of Fat Tire (which is delicious) and a screening of McSweeny's dvd magazine Wholphin. The dvd is worth the price (whatever it may be) to see Dennis Hopper and The Russian Death Chair. Afterwards Lexi, Julia, Marcella and I went to Chevy's for Margaritas and Flan (which could explain the further protests by my stomach).















I also spent an hour or so lounged out on the couch with what has become known as 'the best Christmas present of all time.'



















I then began the process of weeding through photos, both digital and otherwise (analog? paper?) and putting some in boxes and uploading others to Flickr. It was in the midst of this process that I found this wonderful, uniquely San Francisco picture. A few blocks away from our new place is a mission of sorts that gives out sandwiches and blankets to the local park campers and bums once a week. This is a nice thing because not only do the under- privileged get some good food and warm clothes, but they also get to pee on the local trees and weed through every trash can on the block leaving a sort of trash fallout all over a four block radius. It was on one of these magical days that I happened upon this scene. The discarded items on the garbage can are indeed the rear half of a donkey pinata and what is presumably a used buttplug. This must be something greater then sheer coincidence. Maybe an artistic statement on how our society entertains itself, or maybe a condemnation of gay Mexicans. Who's really to say?















I also, in the hour that I spent outdoors today, caught a bit of this little scene right here. Let me preface this by saying that the Department of Parking and Traffic are a bunch of dicks. This phenomenon is certainly not unique to San Francisco. Urban areas, mostly. These folks might as well call themselves the Department of ballpunching and eyepoking. I am a week into the seeming six month process of applying for a parking permit so that I may legally park outside of my own apartment, so it was nice to see this. A 'meter maid' parking his little jackass golf cart in front of a fire hydrant. Cute. Would he then, presumably, write himself a ticket? I really don't think that this falls under the category of cops running red lights. This is more flagrant disregard for the laws that you, yourself are ment to be enforcing.



























On another, and much less pessimistic note, a sweet camera arrived in the mail for me today. I inherited a Nikon F-2 from my step-grandfather (?) who passed away last year. It was a really cool thing to end up with, and could not have come at a better time as my digital camera has almost entirely crapped out. I spent the remainder of my day reading over the manual and marveling at what remarkable condition it had been kept in. It is an incredible piece of machinery that, although it's 30+ years old, seems far more advanced than any digital camera that I've owned. I feel obligated to go out and take some good pictures, which I'll do tomorrow. And by 'good' I mean something that doesn't fall into the same category with me flipping off a meter maid.