In which there’s more sympatico.

Saturday night I told Kaje that I couldn’t figure out how he turned out so well.

I’ve heard all kinds of utterly insane stories from him in the past two months, and in them he is – not to put too fine a point on it – a total fucking punk. The stories are laff-riot funny most of the time (unless they’re like this), but underneath all the wacky, crazy action is a person who is clearly just about totally off his fucking rocker.

Currently, though, he’s not a punk at all. He’s big-hearted, and a fantastically honest communicator. He’s earnest. And present. And his bullshit tolerance is zero but he’s nice at the same time. A complex creature, really, who becomes more and more worth it with each passing day.

“So how did you get here from there?” I asked. “I know there were some women in that ten year gap you never talk about, but I haven’t heard shit about any of that. I think it’s time you tell me about it. So give it.”

We were in his apartment. It was late at night. He frowned a little.

“I need to know this shit anyway,” I said. “Boundaries, past hurts. Blah blah blah. If I knew you were jealous, for instance, I might be less likely to sit on other people’s laps. It’s useful to know where one’s partner’s weird spots are.”

He mumbled something about how he thinks talking about exes is disrespectful and that’s why he hasn’t done it, and then – because he’s the person he is – he shook it off and got comfortable on the couch and started talking. Continue reading Damage isn't so bad, if you can speak its name →

In which I go off an an industry giant, maker of Norton Anti-virus and other crap.

An open letter from an ISP tech:

Dear Norton,

I hate your website.

I hate that your instructions for disabling your stupid firewalls hardly ever match the actual products out in the field.

I hate that you don’t have a fucking telephone number for your customers to call when they can’t connect to the Internet due to problems with your products.

I hate how your products block Internet connectivity when your stupid preinstalled-on-every-Windows-box trial versions expire.

I hate that more often than not, people who can connect but not surf are being blocked by their very own paid-for Norton products!

And most of all, I hate that I have to support your stupid shit because you won’t.

Argh.

Sincerely,
Mush
ISP Support Technician

Caveat: I realize that the Internet is a dangerous place and that your typical luser really does need a highly aggressive security package installed. I get all that. What pisses me off is that your customers have to be connected to the Internet in order to go to your web site and request a $9.95 call back for support but your products keep them from being able to connect.

In which my work schedule’s been changed back to M-F, so K and I only get one day off together.

I just lounged around at the house on Saturday and didn’t accomplish much of value except sweep the patio for Gramma. I played the Sapolil tasting room Saturday night with half of the band. It was fun. K bought us a bottle of the ’05 Syrah and WE DRANK IT. Yum.

Yesterday morning I woke up craving a bloody mary. K doesn’t like bloody marys and wasn’t exactly on board with the concept, but eventually he agreed to drive me somewhere in search of one. We hit the liquor store and then Loney’s for vodka, cranberry juice, bloody mary mix, celery, garlic stuffed olives, bleu cheese, spring onions…

Back at K’s we made drinks, then lounged in the shed for awhile.

We made lunch. After food and two rounds we decided we needed to go do something before we ended up wasting our day off together napping, and K made noises about hitting some little driving range or putting green or something golf-y, so we hopped in the car…

…and blew right past the golf place and ended up in the Blue mountains. We found a little place at the top of Mill Creek in the Umatilla Nat’l Forest (a little place that wasn’t bristling with KEEP OUT or PRIVATE PROPERTY signs), and we sat on rocks next to an ice-cold creek in the sun and meditated and looked at nature and breathed the pristine air for an hour. It was utterly perfect and gorgeous and restful and invigorating.

I love being back in this part of the country. Nature in the summer is supposed to be like this: clean and sweet, not muggy and infested with billions of insects.

On the drive back down, we listened to my (current) favorite album, Shri Durga, and felt all Sunday-mellow. (There’s something deeply surreal about listening to Eastern trance-remixes with sitars and ragas and shit while looking out the Buick’s window while Walla Walla rolls by.)

We hit the store again and dropped by my place. We watched the last hour and a half of the US Open with my Gramma, then snagged the blue dog and went back to K’s.

We made dinner together – chowder and insanity bread – and ate outside in the perfect weather. Later we walked through the aviary over at Pioneer Park and looked at ducks.

It was a mellow evening. We went to bed at a decent hour, I heard K’s Bloomsday Run story, was well and thoroughly ravished, and slept like a rock. This morning K got up, made coffee, packed me a lunch, put out fresh towels, and then came and woke me up. He made me breakfast and drove me to work.

I am so totally spoiled. It’s awesome.

In other news, my laptop won’t boot up because it’s not getting power and now I have a bunch of testing to do, and my dog had a seizure-like episode last night that scared the living shit out of me.