October 12th, 2002

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Political Arguments

This morning at the weekly coffee gathering with my neighbors, I met two new people and I'm happy to say, had a very satisfactory political discussion with them. Both of them just moved into the neighorhood. One of them runs (and lives in) a small theater that hosts improv every week and will be doing other stuff in future. Anyway, I had the paper with me and with Jimmy Carter's face on the front page (Georgia's hero won the Nobel Peace Prize, yay!), we got on to talk about him and, as the other neighbors wandered off to get on with their day, we ended up going on for a good 30 minutes on Bush, Iraq, the Senate, and then I brought up Israel. I had just sent out some opinions on the matter to somebody and done some reading so I was particularly in the mood to use that ammo and talk. Anyway, it probably would have been a longer discussion except we agreed with one another totally.

Actually that agreement/dissent issue got me into some trouble shortly afterward, as Boobah* and I got into a fight about it. I came by his place afterward with his attache case, which he'd left at my place last night. I mentioned to him how I'd been talking with the new neighbors and had really enjoyed myself. I also mentioned how it was so refreshing to find somebody willing to state such opinions, something I don't think I'd be able to accomplish among my co-workers, who I called "buttheads" because they just blithely went along with it all or they were supportive. Then Boobah got into this thing about how there was no different between my stance and theirs, nothing that made me superior, and that I should relish the opportunity for argument -- it's pointless to talk only to people who agree with you. I told him I didn't want an argument like that and he said that me just as big a "butthead" as people with opposing views. (This is from a guy who really enjoys arguments, as opposed to me, who used to hide in the bedroom as my parents fought, even if it was just a stupid thing, let alone if it was something more serious.) Finally I got ticked off by the way he had dragged my whole thing off track, so I said I was heading out. So he goes "Goodbye, evil sinner!" with that "Get thee behind me, Satan!" tone he takes. Ugh.

* This is my name for a friend of mine. Don't feel like using the real name, although certain of you will know it.
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sideview, obamame_sideview

At the moment

So, here I think I'll do an actual "journal" entry -- not a snapshot of my day but sort of a snapshot of the current moment.

I'm at home in my messy office, lights off, light by the computer monitor and the orange glow of streetlights outside below my windows (I'm on the fifth floor). Every once in a while I see a flash in the corner of my eye from outside; not sure if it's a light bugging out, somebody downstairs doing a photo sessions or a cop car -- could be anything :) I guess I've also got some light in here spilling in from the bedroom behind me. In general I don't like to have the actual desklamp on unless I'm doing something where I need to see, like if I'm typing off a piece of paper, reading something, etc. Often when I do my writing I have the office lit with Mexican religious votives, the cheap 99 cent kind you can get in the supermarket. I've got two Virgin of Guadalupes and one St. Martin right now. I've got some little tea lights two scatted among the various papers and books sort of piled up all around here.

Caleb just left after hanging out here after he, Maggie, Enrique, Mark and I were over at his boss Alycen's "art party" in Lake Claire. That was fun. Anyway, he was here for about an hour, partaking of the nice cream of asparagus soup I'd made earlier, watching a show on Egyptian dinosaurs, then just lying around talk about the party. I wanted to show him some old pictures of mine but he wasn't in the mood so I was remember how I used to tick my parents off by taking tons of pictures with my old Kodak Disc camera, which had that very expensive circular format film. I used to take rolls and rolls of it and mostly it was pictures of houses or my dog or stuff around the house like the fridge or the toilet. Sometimes I'd also do self-portraits or take pictures of my Barbies in strange poses. We'd get the pictures back from Osco and my dad would be like, "8 bucks for pictures of the toilet!" It was actually kinda artsy but when you're 11, your parents don't see it that way.

Other stuff happening at the moment: Got some emails from clients, one of whom is taking over day-to-day maintenance of their web site (yay, one less hassle), the other of which is taking her web site totally out of my care (big yay, since that client was a real pain to handle). My birds are covered for the night under their black sheet and are probably nodding off by now after their regular nightly fight-for-the-top-perch struggle. As for what I'm up to next, it's late but I think I will work on the next edition of Inception; I'm nearly done, right now I'm doing pages showing the artwork I describe in an essay I did on a night of artistic inspiration I had.

Ho hum. Diary entries like that are kinda boring, but I like to capture the moment.