Doing a trial run on Vox.com.
We'll see which one I like better.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Monday, July 2, 2007
Vote for Tyler.
Tyler Durden: You have to know the answer to this question! If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?
Narrator: I don't know, I wouldn't feel anything good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine. Come on!
Tyler Durden: Not good enough.
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I've been in a Fight Club mood lately; it's a feeling that usually creeps up on me every season or so and flourishes into this whiny "what the fuck am I doing with my life?" vein of thinking. It's not something I really like to succumb to -- perpetual bitching that makes its way onto my blog -- but there it is.
I haven't been blogging lately because to be perfectly honest, I haven't felt the need to. If you could look at my pending entries, I must have at least five going, but nothing I felt needed finishing or publishing. Sometimes I feel that blogging is depressing, its blatantently self-promotory -- something that I cringe at, but have fallen victim to.
--------------------------
San Francisco moments:
In an effort to get more creative juices going, I decided I needed a change of scenery and headed to Fillmore street for some veggie chili + wi-fi. And since Fillmore Street is.. well, Fillmore Street, I was having some problems finding parking. After 15 minutes of circling, I ended up blocking traffic for nearly five minutes waiting for a car to leave its space. While the person who I was waiting for failed to mention to me that he was illegally parked when I asked if he was leaving, the valet for a nearby restaurant jogged over to let me know it wasn't a space. He gestured to his valet sign and shrugged, saying, "Valet?" I shook my head and said no, but thanks anyway and drove off.
I spend fifteen more minutes looking for parking when I find myself turning back onto that same block with the valet person. He recognizes my car and we lock eyes for an instant, me feeling embarrassed that I'm actually still looking for parking. I shrug as a funny gesture and keep driving, finding a parking spot -- finally -- three cars down. I back up and reverse into the space. As I climbed out of the car, I see the valet person jogging over towards me and I think, 'oh shit, give me a fucking break. This isn't a space, either?'
Instead, when he reaches me he says, "Awesome space!" before giving me a high five and running back to his restaurant.
Sometimes I fucking love this city.
Narrator: I don't know, I wouldn't feel anything good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine. Come on!
Tyler Durden: Not good enough.
--------------------------
I've been in a Fight Club mood lately; it's a feeling that usually creeps up on me every season or so and flourishes into this whiny "what the fuck am I doing with my life?" vein of thinking. It's not something I really like to succumb to -- perpetual bitching that makes its way onto my blog -- but there it is.
I haven't been blogging lately because to be perfectly honest, I haven't felt the need to. If you could look at my pending entries, I must have at least five going, but nothing I felt needed finishing or publishing. Sometimes I feel that blogging is depressing, its blatantently self-promotory -- something that I cringe at, but have fallen victim to.
--------------------------
San Francisco moments:
In an effort to get more creative juices going, I decided I needed a change of scenery and headed to Fillmore street for some veggie chili + wi-fi. And since Fillmore Street is.. well, Fillmore Street, I was having some problems finding parking. After 15 minutes of circling, I ended up blocking traffic for nearly five minutes waiting for a car to leave its space. While the person who I was waiting for failed to mention to me that he was illegally parked when I asked if he was leaving, the valet for a nearby restaurant jogged over to let me know it wasn't a space. He gestured to his valet sign and shrugged, saying, "Valet?" I shook my head and said no, but thanks anyway and drove off.
I spend fifteen more minutes looking for parking when I find myself turning back onto that same block with the valet person. He recognizes my car and we lock eyes for an instant, me feeling embarrassed that I'm actually still looking for parking. I shrug as a funny gesture and keep driving, finding a parking spot -- finally -- three cars down. I back up and reverse into the space. As I climbed out of the car, I see the valet person jogging over towards me and I think, 'oh shit, give me a fucking break. This isn't a space, either?'
Instead, when he reaches me he says, "Awesome space!" before giving me a high five and running back to his restaurant.
Sometimes I fucking love this city.
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