The Roast of the Party
As for an updated version on me…Im still the same me, talking too much, (although its more difficult in different language), still faking the guitar and piano, writing everyday, the constant 5 oclock shadow, hair in some inbetween stage of gooped city swank and anti-establishment-fuck-you-long, funky sunglasses, hats, record collecting, swing dancing (if I can find a girl brave enough…they’re a shy lot), contiplating the isms that 29 year olds contiplate, cigarette smoking, coffee drinking, hole-in-the-wall searching, wreckless, slight paranoia, a empty pit of low self assurance hiding behind a fortess wall of towering-trying-to-be-humble-yet-totally-egotisical self confidence, The host of party, the ghost of the party, the roast of the party. Not a whole lot has changed.
Actually a couple of things are feeling really fresh recently. After sorta months of waking up where my first waking breath of the day was near panic from just any number of things, I started meditating and practicing Yoga, almost everyday. It has started to overflow into every moment. Walking zazen, stretching at the trainstops, I cant seem to stop. But at least its good. And secondly I got a job writing for a pretty big time magazine. That is to say, that I have an assignment but have yet to be officially published which I guess means, I could not be hired. I should be writing right now but instead Im surfing the web, blogging you.
I am still seeing the same girl. Her name is Yasuko. Its been about 5 or so months now and its pretty great although its a bit of a mix-match. Shes really nothing like me with the excpetion that we both like to have a good time. We like different music, art, food, style, perhaps political views but Im not really sure about that one, we have different ideas about our futures, about traveling, money, religion, its actually pretty funny how unsimilar we are. Some of these things seem almost unreconcilable. For example, She loves expensive 5 star hotel restaurants on the top floors of skyscrapers (upon which I could easy pass) and it would be a cold day in hell before I could convince her to venture into a dive like Dots. She doesnt think twice about spending 500 bucks on a dress or shoes and I wear recylced clothes and complain about 20 dollar t-shirts. Ok, well Im exagerating a little, but just a little. She like hotels and I like camping. She likes champagne, I like coffee. Yes, this girl does snowboard, and yes she loves music, and she’s a wicked drummer and piano player too. And shes’s a nurse, a smart little cookie. The whole thing stinks of contridicting oxymoron. She doesnt actually stink, she smells quite nice. But in a word, it works. We’re a goofy little couple.
I dont like to think about it too much but there is little chance of us surviving here together and perhaps less of a chance of surviving there, and at moments a sense of doom overwhlems us both, but we perservere and make compromises and it seems to work. I dont know, maybe halfway, say Hawaii?
Hanami, that is Cherry Blossum season has come and gone. The whole city was filled with these pink marshmellow-popcorn-puff trees and its total magic to hang out underneath one. When the wind blows strong, the whole sky is filled with little pink petals. Truely something comparable to something like perhaps the Bosphorus, or the Pyriamids. Something everybody should experience. Life is good and like the trees for a moment, Im gonna leave.
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