I'm sitting in my brother's apartment having hooked up the puter, and I'm dipping my toes in the water. Since I last blogged, I/we:
got a job (I think it's going to be fun)
packed up all our stuff
returned City of Quartz and Cryptonomicon to Brooklyn Library...or rather left them in Konrad's car for him to return (been meaning to read both for years, was really enjoying both, just ran out of time...I will finish them)
loaded up the truck and cleaned out the 1-1 in Park Slope (...with a lot of help from my friends. Oh, I get by with a lot of hel....sorry, got carried away)
said pained goodbyes to aforementioned amazing friends, all of whom I am missing much more immediately than I thought I would...usually it takes me a while to internalize loved ones' absences...
drove my wife and all our worldly possessions in a 15 foot Penske truck from Brooklyn to Dallas, averaging somewhere around 70mph while on the road
stopped for the night in Woodstock, Virginia and (wait for it...) the Sexsmith-immortalized Lebanon, Tennessee. While Sonnet did a bang-up job overall on the whole moving tip, she fell down slightly on the "packing clothes for the trip" sliver of her responsibilities, resulting in me having to wear an Original Harmony Ridge Creek Dippers t-shirt south of the Mason/Dixon line. This may fail to shock you until I inform you that said band features the charmingly dippy Victoria Williams -- and that the band's t-shirts (ordered sight unseen, alas) therefore feature twee crayon drawings of little barnyard animals done all cutesy-like. I got some stares. Unhappily, I made things worse for myself with a hasty truck stop decision to opt for the new Mountain Dew Code Red as my carbonated beverage of choice. You see, I proceeded to spill much of that profoundly fluorescent liquid all over the barnyard animals after encountering a particularly bumpy section of I-40, adding a gratuitous pink stain that did not make my attire any more palatable to the friendly yokels (Sexsmith was right!) we met at the local Cracker Barrel.
tried and failed to buy a car in Dallas (yes, I'm thinking of buying a Hyundai, who told you? No, I'll wait until you stop laughing. It's for kitsch value, really...the Beck song and all that. OK, it's not. Right: I expect you to read each and every one of these: 12345
drove down to Austin and thankfully had some movers schlep our shiznit into a storage space.
I just called around to find a pub that is opening early for the England/Argentina match -- looks like I'll be heading to Fado at 5:45am tomorrow morning in order to get a good spot for the match at 6:25. This is the big one, folks, and it's going to be a lot of fun. After extensive deliberations with the S.O and a few frantic late-night calls to the more prestigious Italian fashion houses, I've settled on a coolly casual look, and will be sporting a chic claret and blue polyester number with a sexy little West Ham United logo on the sleeves and a big fuck-off Doc Martens logo emblazoned on the front. I think it will be a hit, but you know what these early-morning pub football watching types are like -- so catty.
My brother found a place to live in Dallas -- an apartment complex called Rancho Palisades. Naturally, we're having a grand old time referring to it as "Rancho Relaxo".
Saturday, the mighty Nina Nastasia is coming to Austin's Mercury! I saw her many times in New York, and I bet she will blow Austin away...Albini produced her last album and it is goosebump-inducing beautiful.
Lots of things on the agenda: must get in touch with old friends like Chip C and Matt B; must do some homework to prepare for the new gig; must buy that car; must find a place to live; must stay in touch with the New York peeps; must seize the opportunity to promote the exciting startup I worked on when it launches (just a few days away now...watch this space), must watch World Cup matches...must begin to settle into new existence. Weird. In some ways, blogging is one of the few points of continuity...this interface is the same one I've always used.