fj: (USA)
Sounds like my SF peeps are finding out what a Boston summer is like.

Yeah, those window AC units indeed work. It was pretty much the first purchase I made, even  before any furniture, when I moved into my first studio, in Boston, later named The Magazine Apartment. It was on Park Drive, like everybody's first studio in Boston is, and I was enthralled with the ancient elevator with its doors and the grate, and the long corridors and the hardwood floors and my view on an alley because it was all so American.

I bet Fred got me and the box home, and I remember [ profile] tfarrell and me just lying down on the floor after I first switched it on and going "Aaaaaaaah..." which means I must have gotten over my trepidation of just putting this huge heavy thing in the window and leaving it hanging there, held in place only by the wood of the sliding window, which had to be rotting, but hey, everyone else was doing it so I guess this is how you do it in the USA, and fuck it is hot in here. It also meant I had no furniture yet.

That AC died when [ profile] pinkfish and I moved -- well, I wasn't there for the actual move -- from the next apartment to the condo on The Fenway he had bought. It died in the exact way I feared I would make it die: when Dean tried to take it out the window, it fell out backwards three stories down. Oops. I was told it didn't even make much of a crunch, more of a thud. And although this was a front-facing apartment, it didn't fall on the sidealk where it could hurt anyone. I remember coming home from the family holiday that had made me miss the move, walking into the new condo and going "Oh you put the ACs there and there wait, that's not our AC." Then I got the story. Which ranks second on troublesome homecoming stories to the time a few months before that I had come back from whatever to have Gadi, our houseguest at the time, tell me a litany of one problem after another with paperwork and Dean's start-up and the this going wrong and the that being wrong, that ended with the sentence "Oh, and the dishwasher only burned for a little while." Compared to that thudding ACs were not that dramatic during a move.

So yes, you learn to keep the doors and windows closed in summer too, and that inside is nicer than outside which it should never be in summer but hey, it is, and how high to set it at night and by day and when you are at work, and that getting new ones actually is worthwhile because they get more efficient all the time, and quieter so you get to sleep. Then the energy bill comes in and you learn you really should be a little uncomfortable. Like in winter, when you put on a sweater instead of turning the heat up. Then I moved to Los Angeles where everyone has or should have central air, and I had Industrial Central Air in The Loft, complete with huge overhead ducts Oliver the cat liked to run on, and where energy was pretty much free compared to Boston. Still, after my first few months of turning it up at night becaise I like to sleep in a cool room snuggled under blankets, the bill came in and I decided I should cut that out. I moved to the desert, now feel it.

Oddly enough, even though there was a string of Summers That Killed Thousands here in the UK a year or two ago, there's not a big market for these in-window ACs here. I don't think many windows slide up anyway. On the East Coast you know summer's here when the students leave and the window ACs start appearing in stacks at the hardware store and the Best Buy, here you just open windows against each other and hope for a breeze. Not even much need for that this year: we've had two nice weekends, and the rest is gloom
fj: (bqw)
At 18, I entered a committed relationship that lasted 3.5 years.

At 23, I entered a committed relationship that lasted 13 years. When our 8-year anniversary rolled around, [ profile] pinkfish's mother put an announcement in the family Christmas newsletter because we had outlasted the average straight marriage. Yeah, we had our own rules, but we made it work for a damn long time.

20-something gays marrying in Boston these days, coming to California? I ain't gonna write stuff like "stupid kids are gonna regret that". I'd rather share my experiences about how everyone has to create their own relationship that works. Transform the legal structure of marriage into what you need it.
fj: (Hector The Protector)
[ profile] fj : you know, if it weren't for the fans the evenly spaced holes at the bottom of the wall look almost decorative
[ profile] pinkfish : pics?
[ profile] fj : What is this,
[ profile] pinkfish : yeah
fj: (smug)
Guess what I am not doing next week? I am not getting on a cramped airplane together with 100 million other people in the US, to go to a cold mid-western state at the end of November, that's what I am not doing. Thursday? I will be working out, and I may just go to the beach before dinner, just to spite all of goddamn Ohio! I could even do a Blak Friday sale! Not that I will, because I do not want more stuff, but I could! Without having to wait for anyone to get ready.
fj: (tech)
So we're in the car, however long ago, and [ profile] pinkfish is telling me about the latest development in the actual nuts and bolts of using Semantic Web technologies for heterogenous data integration, including a new standard for a query language called Sparql. He mentioned he had suggested a language for scripting those queries together. SPARQLScript or something.

You can see where this is going to end up when I am in the picture.

"You need to finish those extensions, and submit them as a standard", I go, "and call it SPARQLMotion. And then when it gets caught in committee or people are slow, you can tell them that sometimes you doubt their commitment to it. In tears."

(Well, TopQuadrant did write the scripting language, but they got nervous about syntax and realized it worked better inside their suite of products as a visual script builder for fast prototyping. Still a way to chain SPARQL queries together and run them against data-sources. So I didn't end up naming a standard, just a product. The name is getting identified as an in-joke already.)
fj: (Default)
People now are talking to me about "your ex".

I have recently been referred to as "FJ!! from LA".

Boy things change.


In more direct news, they let us out early today. I should be heading out and shop for the week and look up people I hear are going to be at Outfest tonight, but getting up from my desk here at home seems impossible, even to take a nap.
fj: (Default)
It started over poffertjes in Amsterdam with him saying we should get married. It ended with me dropping him off at Union Station for the shuttle to LAX, and driving on to IKEA to replace what was shipped to Oakland.
fj: (Default)
As said, the break-up is mutually supportive. So supportive we are reporting the same phenomenon to each-other: announcing a break-up is like announcing you're having major dental work done; people tell you the most horrible stories in the guise of support.

I remember when I lived in Amsterdam and my wisdom teeth had to come out. I, of course, sharing my misery "My wisdom teeth have to come out! I am so scared!" would get stories back that contained sentences like "...and I could hear the bone crunch while I was in agony, but it still wouldn't come out. So the dentist gives up on the pliers and starts rummaging for a shovel..." Breaking up is kind of like that. Except nobody assumes their wisdom teeth are just like yours and overlay their story on your issues. This does happen with people "being supportive" about break-ups. The worse stories people have in their recent past, the more you end up having to work hard to communicate that no, we are doing ok in ours, really. This one building-friend said a week after I discussed it with her that our amicable divorce is bringing up all kinds of issues about her difficult one she needs to process with her therapist.

My break-up has created collateral damage.
fj: (Hector The Protector)
This morning over breakfast we had an earnest and frank conversation.

About what to spend a $1000,-- Walmart gift card on we had just read someone in the extended flist had received.

-- "At Walmart? That's 80 CDs, all of them censored to be family friendly."
-- "This      is bananas, this      is bananas."
He pulls a face: "No way."
-- "Oh yeah. You seen the 'clean' label on iTunes? That's all also for Walmart shit." We end up discussing how one day a radio station started bleeping 'funk' -- the actual word, there was no other kind in the song -- of the line "Nononono don't funk with my heart" and then it was re-recorded by the group to be 'mess with my heart'.
"You could get the Rodgers & Hammerstein collection. I bet they have those in their rows and rows of CDs."
-- "At best you still have 65 CDs left. And what else, gas? What if they make you spend it all in one trip?" I tried to picture the gas drum you'd be carting home.
"They might insist on that." We try some more, but whatever you buy, it'll be Walmart junk. His eyes light up with an answer: "Guns", he says definitively.
-- "Oh yeaaaah.. with scopes and lasers. Are those expensive?"
"You could totally spend that thousand bucks on hunting gear."
-- "They're in Northern Florida. They need that sort of thing there. How heavy is one thousand bucks of ammo?"
fj: (Default)
HOLLYWOODLOS ANGELES - HollywoodInternational golden couple Brad Pitt[ profile] fj and Jennifer Aniston[ profile] pinkfish have officially split after fourthirteen and half years of marriagecommitted relationship, the actor's publicist confirmed Friday.

The Ocean's Twelve heartthrob's publicist Cindy GuagentiLiveJournal released a statement on behalf of the couple, after months of tabloid speculation their marriage was in media coverage whatsoever.

The statement says, "We would like to announce that after seventhirteen years together we have decided to formally separate.

"For those who follow these sorts of things, we would like to explain that our separation is not the result of any speculation reported by the tabloid media.

"We happily remain committed and caring friends with great love and admiration for one another."
fj: (Default)
Dean is teaching Oliver how to fetch. Or Oliver is teaching Dean to throw the little blue milkbottle closing ring when he brings it to Dean.
fj: (Hector The Protector)
[ profile] fj  [referring to Dean's time in Cambridge, UK] did you like Tesco's?
[ profile] pinkfish I was more a Sainsbury's boy, myself
[ profile] pinkfish  What kind of question is that?
[ profile] fj  too bad, Tesco's coming to LA
[ profile] pinkfish  Althought I understand that Tesco's has made great strides since those days
[ profile] fj  Not Sainsburys
[ profile] pinkfish  Martin Prime is a big Tesco's fan
[ profile] fj  Hellooooo, They. are. coming. to. LA.
[ profile] fj  that's the news, stop babbling about Martin
[ profile] fj  I am waiting for you to now mumble something about Hawking organized drag races in isle 5 of the local Aldi
[ profile] pinkfish  Well, it isn't a big deal. Just another supermarket.
[ profile] fj  Oh god, curbed is on a roll: "The Financial Times keeps the Tesco news going. First, say hello to Tesco's alter-identity: Fresh & Easy. In lieu of the Tesco store-brand, we will be graced with Fresh & Easy, also a common moniker for starlets moving to LA from the midwest."
[ profile] pinkfish  And besides, he didn't organize them, he had his students do that.
[ profile] fj  Hawking's students did not organize wheelchair drag racing in isle 5 of a Cambrdige Aldi
[ profile] pinkfish  Well, no, they didn't. There were some things that even those sycophants wouldn't do for the old man.
[ profile] fj  :)) :)) :))
[ profile] fj  You did not just call his drag students that
[ profile] pinkfish  I think I did . . .
[ profile] pinkfish  . . . and you called them "drag students"
[ profile] pinkfish  I think that's even funnier.
[ profile] fj  Grad students. Grad students. Hawking does not have grad students
[ profile] fj  Oh god I just switched up those poor sods again.
fj: (tech)
Thanksgiving was just the four of us, [ profile] pinkfish, his parents, and me. [ profile] pinkfish listened to his mother's instructions about what to make for dinner, they did the bird, and the last hour we worked her out of the kitchen so we two could finish the intense part. We ate, we talked, [ profile] pinkfish and I cleaned up, then we napped.

Then we had leftovers, looked up some collectibles of his father's on eBay as he named them, and somewhere did the requisite Windows troubleshooting every computer-literate progeny seems to have to do for a geriatric parent when visiting. Since this was a networ issue, I was on the upstairs computer and Dean was on the downstairs one. We each had our laptops with us so we could chat over Yahoo! IM to do diagnostics. They saw us do it. Now they want to chat too. I made sure [ profile] pinkfish set it up so they have his nick.
fj: (LA)
So thanks to [ profile] pinkfish's warped retelling of how I found a folder back I thought I had put in the to-be-shredded-stack but hadn't, his readers now think I can forge airline documents. Great.

Also, another instance of all the cool kids are doing it: a cow-orker wants to talk to me about what it is like to live in downtown LA. I briefly told her that had she called me yesterday when she and her bf were down looking at places, she could have joined [ profile] pinkfish, [ profile] timfogartyfeed, and me on the rooftop of one of the buildings in the complex, where, in the pink glow of a setting sun, we were spending time in the hot-tub and swimming pool, eating our cook-out burgers, feeling the serenity of a city standing still just before nightfall, seemingly so far away from everything. Tim then reminded us we could have the Thanksgiving cook-out too. And Christmas.

My cow-orkers are incredulous at how I take the Metro to work, traversing 2 or three sub-cities in LA every day between that and home. The New Commuter they call me, as if I am some kind of anomaly, and I remind them the subway is far from empty when I take it. The company pays for half my monthly ticket. Well, I do this three days a week, and guess what, today I am walking down the stairs of the North Hollywood stop to go home, looking all LA with sunglasses and an open white shirt over a T over Target jeans and sneakers, and my brain goes 'I know that face and the SF shorts-and-tribal-tat-and-chains look', but still I had trouble accepting that I was seeing it here. But yes, it was indeed [ profile] hgybear, up visiting from SF this week. I knew he was here and we were planning to get together, but good lord what are the odds I'd run into him in all of LA.

Well, the odds if you discount the Cool Kids Go To The Same Places Factor, of course.
fj: (LA)
[ profile] pinkfish IMs me Friday to clarify to me that yes, indeed, those phonecalls at 6AM with the signatories ([ profile] cbunnell, thank you for being the signer in MA for us) and FedExing the week before and everything does mean that, yes, we have sold #11 in Boston. As in no longer ours. It hadn't really registered during breakfast until I was nice and well at my job and fire up Trillian and go "Wait, this means we actually no longer own it, right?" And we do not. We are back to one condo and one mortgage and no bridge loans.

I am still fascinated by the magic of legalities, of how puttiing certain names and incantations to certain gestures makes them more real then others. I could sign the most beautiful paper to say [ profile] rsc now can buy property in my name and nothing would happen, but if I sign a napkin and leave a thumbprint and a signature in a Special Book owned by a Special Person -- a Notary Public -- suddenly I could go to jail if I can't afford him buying the Hancock building in my name. I can lie through my teeth to a public official like [ profile] legalmoose, but if an officer like him at USCIS makes me raise my hand and say some Special Words that I won't, I could go to jail for the same lies. So intangible, such consequences.

But between the IMs, Dean suddenly stops because he has to take a call. Brb. And I wait. And then he types back about a flurry of calls of something coming together: our moving truck could be at our place at 8 AM Saturday. That was earlier than anyone expected, but hey, yes, it can be arranged, and they are ready, very ready, no, tomorrow ok?

Now it is night after a hard day of unpacking what the three movers unloaded, and the place looks like the Boston condo exploded in The Loft here. It will take some work to make this into a home, but we are well on the way. But now with my stuff here I can a) sleep in a real bed that is tall enough for me, so my ankles won't hang over the edge and maybe my achilles tendons won't be so stiff in the morning I walk like Frankenstein b) realize how big this place just is. I am getting a sense of scale now. It's big.

I have the napping couch back. I took a nap today. It feels like I hadn't slept well in a month, and suddenly could.
fj: (LA)
Blew half a tank of gas on going to the IKEA in Burbank -- [ profile] pinkfish got a taste of Valley! -- frolicking on the boardwalk and surf of Venice with [ profile] drewan and Joe, bringing them for dinner somewhere downtown and showing The Loft, and then driving up to Silverlake to drop them off. We decided Glendale Boulevard in the dark, when you can't see the hills, looks like Cleveland.
fj: (Default)
[23:37] [ profile] fj: my bf is sleeping
[23:37] [ profile] fj: My cats are walking around
[23:37] [ profile] fj: all I need is furniture and I might even approach a normal gay household
[23:37] [ profile] fj: they came in this morning, I picked them up at the airport
[23:39] ****: YEAH...No problems with the TSA?
[23:40] [ profile] fj: none. He had all paperwork ready, including for the needles, so fo course no one asked
[23:40] ****: LOL..never fails
[23:40] [ profile] fj: and he went standard procedure on the security check, which is take cat out of carrier, walk through gate, put cat in scanned carrier, and simply did that twice
[23:41] [ profile] fj: behind him was family with small children and strollers, so they needed time to prepare themselves and held up the line for my bf to do this
[23:41] ****: EXCELLENT. DAMN, that worked out well
[23:41] [ profile] fj: yes it did
[23:42] [ profile] fj: He was very prepared, knew all procedures, etc
[23:42] ****: sounds like me
[23:43] [ profile] fj: yes, we both pushed to have contingencies accounted for. Even be accompanied by a friend to the airport at 4 Am should only one cat be allowed to fly with one passenger
[23:44] ****: That was exceptoinal planning
[23:44] [ profile] fj: that one was mine. When I heard other airlines had that rule, I insisted on having a friend there, and we found one of the cat nuts to do it
[23:45] ****: LOL...CAT PEOPLE.....BEWARE the CAT PEOPLE
[23:46] [ profile] fj: for they will follow your cats around and try to take care of them...
[23:46] ****: The serious ones have litter boxes for their friends
[23:47] [ profile] fj: I drove to the airport with one set up in the car in case the cats had to go after the trip. Took them from my bf to the car while he waited for luggage
[23:48] ****: Do they travel well?
[23:49] [ profile] fj: well, I guess we found out they kinda do
[23:49] [ profile] fj: and they have amazing bladders. He still hasn't used the box, she barely has
[23:50] [ profile] fj: I was told they were perfectly quiet during the flight. Engine sounds usually calm cats down
[23:50] ****: FUCK ME...Jet lag Just be sure they dont get out of the place. or they will head back to Boston on foot
[23:51] [ profile] fj: by mooching rides from cabs, if I know these two
[23:51] ****: LOL..not cabs...LIMOS
[23:52] [ profile] fj: they are that charming. Trust me
[23:52] ****: I know cats..I believe yuou
[23:53] [ profile] fj: He's dreaming right now. Little foot twitches.
[23:53] ****: I wonder what of?
[23:53] [ profile] fj: Mice On A Plane
[23:54] ****: LOL
[23:55] [ profile] fj: There is motherfucking mice on this motherfucking plane... and I am gonna chase them!
fj: (Default)

Looking For Roy
"Looking For Roy", Nokia N73, Los Angeles County, 2006

fj: (LA)
[21:04] [ profile] fj: You know, once you drive the streets of LA you realize Duckman was less of an insane out-there parody than we thought
[21:04] [ profile] fj: and more biting satire
[21:04] [ profile] pinkfish: I guess I will have to get used to all the half-animal half-people out there
[21:04] [ profile] fj: Not that part!
[21:05] [ profile] pinkfish: All the identical triplets?
[21:05] [ profile] pinkfish: People joining in on songs you've never heard?
[21:05] [ profile] fj: oh shut up
fj: (Default)
Then again, working for the mobile phone arm of a company of which one of the signature tunes is insanely annoying and earwormy may have its drawbacks of sometimes being so very not cool when somebody is not around to pick up their test phone.

Yesterday proved to be tedious: yes I signed to put the condo and a small percentage of the purchasing price into escrow, but boy does that come with a lot of disclousre forms. I think by now I have been warned that keeping mutant ants from another dimension will really hurt the fit and finish of my bathroom cabinets, and the builder is so not going to help me about that. Going to and from downtown for signing took a big chunk of time, so I had to do a meeting at 7.30. Then off to the corner gym I joined, and by the time that was over all I wanted to do was go home and see what [ profile] pinkfish had sent me. I had to summon security to the front desk office to give me my packages, but at the rate Disney is paying here, I really do not care. I did get to see the spectacle of flip-flop-wearing, bikini-clad teen star hopefuls, two of them, one lithe and blond and glitteringly navel-pierced, one squatter, hispanic looking, going in and out of the screening room adjacent to the lobby, preening in the mirror, going in and out of the fitness area, and walking past me gossiping Queen Bee style that the girl on the other side of the window to the guest business area, equally blond, equally hyper-styled (but dressed) was "so ugly."

Honey, grow a butt first to actually fill out that bikini bottom hanging on you like an ill-fitting diaper before you try to hand out crap like that to anyone. I wish I had not been distracted and tired enough to tell her that making out others to be ugly don't make her any prettier. But that would have just made me the creepy adult guy scaring the children.

Two CDs and a box of Leonidas. He found my wishlist, I am so proud of him. :)

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