2001-06-05 4:06 p.m.
world at play

the world seems to be at play today.

everyone's planning parties, setting up fun occasions...might even go to a party at rus-K's place this weekend, which sounds utterly fabulous. Granted, she claims it's going to be a drug orgyfest, but I know better. It's going to be a lot of couples getting REAL high. That ain't bad. Fishbone's playing this weekend, Adult's playing at Fun on Friday, I've got plans tonight and tomorrow.

Yesterday, Dan and I cleaned out the house and made plans for its renovation. There was something ritualistic and purifying about it, as we kept sitting down outside in the garden and on the porch, walking to and fro and figuring out what would make that house sing, make it a place we can relax and get wired, be creative or be blobs (hence, the TV/DVD/PS1/stereo setup downstairs in the making)...where the house'll be somewhere we live.

A home. I haven't had a home...I want to say since North Miami, since high school, but the truth is that that felt alien to me at times too. I've never felt that comfortable anywhere, and this house really feels...right, somehow. We're going to put seeds down this weekend, put a hammock up in the backyard when we can afford it, re-paint the hallway this weekend...work work work.

speaking of which, I'm back at work. I'm not happy about this. I like the money, I like the people (and folks were really pulling for me)...but the atmosphere's gone into that desperate-corporate overdrive that companies jump into when they know the party's over SOON. The point where someone puts on loud music and does a striptease, but everyone is into it for about ten seconds when they realize that it's that good-looking-but-hasn't-figured-out-he's-gay guy, begging for attention and everyone realizes how sad it all is about two seconds after they start watching. It's painful, and on the whole, not very interesting.

On the other hand, it's making me think a lot about slavery, a subject that seems like it's going to be the start of my next non-hero comic pitch. I had a overly filling, but very tasty Japanese dinner (soba salad + a salmon skin hand roll) and was thinking about a present-day slave class in NYC, and the consequences of a resistance breaking down a system that's been in place since the Civil War (and the rest of the world thought's long gone to dust).

more on this later, but the idea of working on this, rather than on more bullshit for DC (let's see if they need a faith healer someday), makes me feel all warm inside again.

�

word to Yoda, all...he's staring out from our windowsill onto the alley below, and he's giving a little 'wuzzup?' to the birds and the windows.