Saturday, June 30, 2001
for a few days now, i've been reading the lone wolf & cub series of, um, graphic novels, i guess is the term - that i've borrowed from simeon. it's a story about an edo period samurai who 'walks the path of the assassin', with his three year old son - it's pretty interesting, and at about an hour a book, they're good entertainment. though basically the question in each vignette is who lone wolf & cub is going to slaugher this time, how, and why? it's funny, the character has a 'policy' of only taking assassinations for which the hiring party will tell him the entire story of up front - which is actually just a device for creating plot for each little episode. anyway, it's fun, and one of the better things i've encountered in my (albeit limited) experience with the comic world. i'm wondering how ogami itto - the protagonist samurai - might fit into the classic 'hero' mold according to joseph campbell & lord ragsdale. maybe i'll sit down and figure it out, i don't get to play english major very often anymore... i'm listening to sleater-kinney right now, and it occurs to me that they're really pretty derivative. not too surprising. but i was trying to figure out exactly what influences i was hearing, and i came up with this - vocally, at least, s-k at their screamiest is kind of like a cross between public-image-limited era john lydon, and siouxie sioux. which i guess makes sense. whatever. just a thought. Thursday, June 28, 2001
paying too much attention to roadkill can really ruin your morning. by this i mean really seeing it as you drive past - or over - the dead cat in the middle lane. getting a good, all-too-detailed view of exactly what happens when dog meets car at 50 mph. and then keeps meeting every car for the next 3 days, in the same place. and this isn't -usually - on purpose, but the result of a casual glance in the wrong place at the wrong time, which is what happened to me as i was driving down veterans to get to work this morning. a series of truly unpleasant thoughts and mental images followed. domestic pet as meat... ain't nothin' nice. last week at work, i decided, for no particular reason, to fill an empty sobe green tea bottle with water, and in it submerge two chopsticks from a takeout sushi order i had for lunch that day. the possible outcomes were limitless - i'd see how the chopsticks reacted to being waterlogged - and i'd get to have a soothing, zen-like tea-bottle on my desk to rest my eyes on. yeah. whatever. so anyway, today, i've had my first sign of life amidst the chopsticks. at first i thought the bottle was just smudgy, but no, we've got some cloudy looking, translucent fuzzy spherical growth going on, and the water is becoming a bit viscous. totally unexpected. when you move the bottle, they wave like seaweed. anyway, i'll keep you updated. maybe even photos, if it gets any more exciting... last night i saw calexico at the shim sham club. a much better live band than i would have expected - i guess because i think of their music as rather sparse and slow and quiet. well, make that 'thought'... the glands opened, and i can't say they made much of an impression on me. calexico, however, played an entrancing set, starting off with a slow, atmospheric piece of their haunted desert ghost town music, which made even the hipster-filled shim sham club feel eerily lonesome... is so evocative of the southwest, of arid deserts and sun bleached rattler skeletons and canyons and border crossings and such - that it felt oddly out of place in the middle of the french quarter. in a good way, an escapist sort of way, taking the audience away from the humidity and decay of the new orleans. the horn section was remarkable - Wednesday, June 27, 2001
mysteriously, my cable connection, which i had been told was unrepairable until july 3rd, repaired itself while i was at work today. i'll be glad if it stays up, but i'm keeping that damn appointment just in case. it rained like hell again tonight, for a torrential half an hour - but that seems to have been about it. big lightning. i've noticed that i don't post as often, or as long, when i'm working on other sites. for the record, this week's project has been one for my paralegal friends, allison & gina, from baton rouge - a site that's been a long time in the getting around to it, and a short, concentrated time in the actually doing it. still needs polish, but it's functional and i'm not unhappy with it. simple and almost, though not quite, elegant. www.aalegalsolutions.com right. and so now that i've gotten used to doing all my clicking with my right ring finger at work - sparing great pain to my right mouse, er, index finger - every time i use another computer, i click wrong and end up with a lot of context menus and very little left-click action. it's amazing how quickly an action can become almost instinctual - but it seems to be working, and my mouse finger no longer hurts, so i'm not complaining. i'll learn to deal, and like it. the carpal tunnel alternative is not one i'm inclined to choose. but damnit, i keep wrong-clicking!! also interesting, last night i saw the very strange french flick "with a friend like harry" which i can only describe as a very freudian dark comedy. very well done, on the whole, and well acted. oddly, the protagonist, though clearly french, looks a lot like liam gallager of oasis, who is equally clearly british. imho. anyway, it's not freudian in the everything-on-screen-is-a-phallus sense, but only in the id-ego-superego sense. makes you consider what would happen if you allowed yourself - or someone else - to fulfill all your basest, most selfish thoughts. but this doesn't really occur to you until just after the movie - well, at least it didn't occur to me until toward the end, and naturally i'm safe from any sort of intellectual superiority crap anyone reading this might throw back at me if they haven't seen it yet, because now you'll be thinking it from the beginning, since you've read this. my, my, i need to lay off of the metatextual entries, this crap really bothers me when other people do it. enough. Monday, June 25, 2001
i now have no internet connection at home. my cable modem went down this weekend, and cox says they can't get anyone out to fix it until july 3rd, earliest. so i guess my posts will all have to come from the office... where our dsl can't really be counted on either... Friday, June 22, 2001
i reversed my mouse buttons at work this week, to the left handed settings. i'm still using my right hand, but this way i get to use my right-most fingers to do the clicking. this is very weird and every time i use another computer i'm confuzzed for a moment. i think this is helping me avoid what might have been the beginnings of some kind of repetitive stress disorder. my fingers feel better now. i wonder if i'll have to do this forever, or maybe just work on my ambidexterous mouse action, and trade off hands every now and then, so my fingers don't start hurting again. while true, i realize that the above is kind of just drivel. not saying much. wow. metablogging. i'm glad this week is over. it's been a long one. Thursday, June 21, 2001
to start the day on a dark note, this is some highly fucked-up shit. i cannot even imagine what the father must be going through. in slightly more upbeat, socially concerned news, i think i'm going to 'roll my own blackout' tonight, between 7 and 10... maybe i'll even turn my computer off...
how interesting. i just now wrote quite a bit, and then decided i didn't feel like talking about it. so i erased it all, of my own free will, and with none of the about-to-be-sick feeling that accompanies the blogger posting errors which usually claim my most eloquent posts. so there. Tuesday, June 19, 2001
thin red slugs, slowly, slowly, sliding out of my ears and onto my clean pillowcases, onto my clean sheets, and in the morning they'll have slithered away with sound, i will hear nothing, i will be unbalanced and deaf, with only a dull ache to remind me that i once had a timpanic membrane. but what a way to lose your senses. i just got back from seeing mogwai, at the howlin' wolf, and it was one of the best shows i've seen in a long time. and certainly the loudest, and most coldly calculated to cause physical pain in the audience. by the end of the show, when all that was left was reverbed distortion, piercing, just-this-side-of-dog-whistle treble feedback and rumbling, foundation-shaking bass, it became a badge of courage and foolhardiness among the audience to clap or otherwise lift both hands in the air, to prove to everyone else that you didn't have your fingers in your ears, as most everyone else did. i didn't do much arm raising, but i was too entertained by the idea that a band was actually doing this to their fans, and by watching the rest of the audience first resist then give in and cover their ears, to do it myself. i will regret this, i am sure. the who, in it's hayday, had nothing on mogwai tonight, in decibel terms. the show, otherwise, was as i said, incredible. the sheer emotional power that these 5 scots build through their slow, methodical crescendos and sudden explosive walls of sound, fuzz, noise, feedback, all the while moving in and around melodies that are actually catchy and memorable - and all of this mostly undefiled by something as trivial as the human voice, which was used sparingly and to great effect... it became almost spiritual at times, it was surrounding and engulfing and expansive and you swam in the thickness of the sound, soul reverberating... i couldn't help but feel that for all the indie bullshit, all the post-rock hype, these guys are really doing something important, they are really taking music somewhere that it hasn't been, maybe a good parallel might be the growth of jazz, through people like byrd, parker, davis and coltrane, who chaperroned their form from traditional dixieland through be-bop and even beyond into experimental and free jazz forms - mogwai (and gsybe) are really "post-rock" in the truest sense of the term - they're taking rock music into a new paradigm. It was interesting to note little, offhanded musical nods, to be able to discern some influences. i heard twitches of air's moon safari, and tool's undertow, and pink floyd's ummagumma, and all kinds of other stuff. anyway. this post is running long, the night is old, and i must sleep. let's hope i can hear my alarm in the morning. Sunday, June 17, 2001
i just watched lars von trier's 'dancer in the dark' with holly. it's a polarizing film - as is most of bjork's work - and inspires equally strong feelings in it's adherents and detractors. i'd be an adherent, i thought it was dark, disturbing and downright fucked up, not to mention beautiful and acted, directed and filmed intensely. it was the other side of the coin from "moulin rouge' as far as modern cinematic musicals go - as a matter of fact it might have been a perfect counterpoint. it accomplished much of the same in totally different ways, though the plot and characters were quite well developed, and the music was - bjork, who i like a lot, but i realize she's an aqcuired taste... oh, and this movie did more to make me think and soulsearch about the death penalty issue than the timothy mcveigh execution. so. i liked it, there you go. Friday, June 15, 2001
yesterday as i was driving home, i stopped at the traffic light at the corner of jefferson hwy and causeway. just outside my driver's side window, stood a black woman, maybe in her 50s or 60's, with grizzled graying hair, and what i can only describe as a grizzled gray beard beneath her chin. she was wearing a hot pink sweater in the 90 degree heat, and with her arms lifted above her head, was alternately singing a vaguely recognizable r&b/gospel song at the top of her lungs and mumbling/screaming insanely at passing cars. her fervent expression, and those hot pink arms raised against the backdrop of a bright blue sky, are for the moment indelibly etched in my mind. wish i had had a camera, so i could share... yuck. today has just not worked out very well. the search for the cell phone has been called off, it's gone forever and i'm going to have to hope i got the insurance thing when i bought it, and go get me a replacement. work sucked - how unusual - and i finished the summer issue of the westwinds breeze newsletter, which i edit for my dad's condominium association in florida. it's usually pretty useless, but this issue is record-breakingly devoid of content. i had my hopes kind of set on a good night out with the supahstahs, but it was not to be - we had drinks at the bulldog, and dinner at moonlight cafe, and that was about it. so it's an early night in. maybe i'll get some sleep. Thursday, June 14, 2001
i lost my damn cell phone today, and it's really bothering me. i wouldn't have thought it would, because in theory i don't like being instantly reachable and all, especially since the people you don't want to talk to most are always the ones calling you (but then, is that why you don't want to talk to them?? chicken or egg?) i justify carrying it under the rationale that i can call out, and with caller id, i can refuse to answer if it's someone icky. unfortunately, icky people's numbers have an amazing ability not to be recognized. sometimes, when this happens, i'll hit talk and just wait, not saying hello, just to hear whoever's on the other end say "hello? hello? allen? are you there?", and if it's someone icky, i can hang up, or pretend there's static or something. very mature of me. but i would never do that to you. what was i saying. my cell phone - right, i lost it at a sushi restaurant, and now, instead of feeling relieved at my new found freedom, i feel isolated and even kind of lonely and out of touch, just because i can't make plans for tomorrow night while i'm in the car on my way home. which feeling disturbs me in an i-need-to-go-sit-alone-in-the-woods-for-a-week-and-think sort of way. but i'm still pissed i lost my phone. Wednesday, June 13, 2001
what strange animals we humans are. i am suddenly and strangely in an insanely good mood today. giddy, really. as i sit here at work, one earphone playing the alt.country channel on spinner and the other occupied by a stupid telephone headset thing - every song i know makes me smile... and under all that, there's a little sleep dep edge to everything - though i'm not that tired. hmmmm... maybe it's that we're finally moving this damn office today, which is the milestone i've been waiting for to... to... change things. it's a psychological milestone. and maybe i'm just happy because last night was fun and i'm glad i have good friends...
the supahstahs just had their first unofficial meeting as more than just a social pleasure and drinking club. we actually conversed, at length, on issues, and concerns, and topics of national and local political and social relevance, and we even vowed to do something about it. my new positon is that federal executions should happen more often, as they apparently have incredible effect as conversational stimulants and generators of social concern among young, middle income, would-be, almost professionals... as unbelievable as all this sounds , and though, to be perfectly honest, it was in a social pleasure and drinking context - ie, carrollton station, after dinner for crashley's birthday at crepe nanou (happy birthday, ashley!!) it was serious and intelligent and then we decided to do something ourselves to create a visible impact on the community issues we were talking about. it may sound silly and idealistic - and it is - but it's a good start, it's good people, and it actually has potential. boldness has genius, power and magic in it, and all that. I say, let's change this city. you know, i guess i am drunk... Tuesday, June 12, 2001
yay! blogger says invites work again, now! let the mad blogging begin! Monday, June 11, 2001
well, here's one for the history books, the federal government executed timothy mcveigh today. in case anyone hasn't been checking the score: mcveigh 168, feds 1. what a strange world. his last communication to the world, the poem "invictus" by william ernest henley. quite erudite for a fucking cold calculating terrorist motherfucker. i'm still intrigued by the story i was told by his attorney, steven jones, after a speech he gave while i was in law school, about the unidentified leg.
sweet jesus. the pool in the condo complex has overflowed into the patio area. the patio area has filled up about another foot, and is about to overflow into the apartments on the first floor. and it looks like the rain is showing no signs of abating. we just backed up the pool pump, so it should drain into the parking lot, but how long that will help, i don't know. weather.com says we're in for a long night... charles and christine are leaving tomorrow; rod and i went to dinner with the three schnurmans (katie is in town, did i mention that? after her incredibly courageous move to nashville... i admire the actions of very few people more...) at crepe nanou, and said our bon voyages - earlier today, i taught charles how to upload pictures to his fotki page, and set up a blog for he and christine to write in, so all of us who are continuing our work-a-day stateside existences can live the european adventure vicariously... good travels, y'all, be careful out there... Sunday, June 10, 2001
and still it rains, and rains, and i'm getting depressed today... confused, too much to think about, too much not done, too much happening. and just when i thought things were dreary enough, the air bubble in my left sneaker is punctured, and has started to gurgle. perhaps an ice mocha skim will cheer me up. off to pjs... grrr...
i found out last week that i had won tickets from wwno to see the "satchmo to marsalis" concert on August 4th, which have got to be the hottest ticket in town right about now. shocking luck - three, no, four days later i still can't believe it. and now there's the question, who to take? we moved holly into her new place on louisiana today - all day, pretty much. when we were done, holly took ashley and i to dinner at siam cafe, which was wonderful and then we went to brocato's for gelato. i put together holly's bed and daybed tonight, and then we watched "wonder boys " which was solid, contrived but solid, and fun in bits. and long. i don't think the screenwriter was really making many choices. so i walked into my apartment around 2am, dark, and my cd player (which i habitually leave on) playing echoey, poor quality, live louis armstrong from a cheapo collection i have. almost a ghostly effect, it's very mood setting stuff. i love this song. it's been playing in my head all weekend. and it began playing just after i got home. i went down to st james infirmary i saw my sweet heart there lying on a long white table so cold so white so fair i went up to see the doctor "she's very low" he said i went back to see my baby and great god she was lying there dead i went down to old joe's bar room down on the corner by the square they were serving drink as usual and the usual crowd was there on my left stood joe mac keneoy his eyes were blood shot red he turned to the crowd around him and these are the words that he said go let her go god bless her where ever she may be she may search the wide world over but she'll never find find another man like me when i die please bury me in a high top stetson hat put a gold piece on my watch chain so the boys will know i died standing pat get six gamblers to carry my coffin six chorus girls to sing my song put a jazz band on my tail gate to raise hell as we roll a long this is the end of my story so let's have another round of booze and if any one should ask you just tell them i've got the saint james infirm'ry blues Friday, June 08, 2001
allison's stormy remains just won't go away. even the times picayune's headline today is "enough already." it's wet outside, again, and i can hear thunder in the distance. enough already. really. we're getting waterlogged down here.
the rain cleared up enough this evening that the sun came out for a bit, and there was a big rainbow that from my 6th floor office at work seemed to begin somewhere in mid-city and end somewhere around west end park. which means nothing if you're not up on your new orleans geography. but anyway. there was a rainbow. i was excited. after work today, i helped holly move a few boxes into her new place. it may be the coolest apartment i've seen around here - it's an old victorian place on louisiana avenue, with big high ceilings and wood floors and huge rooms and windows and an enormous balcony... very nice. then we had a somewhat unexpected but really wonderful dinner at charles' place. the conversation was good but seemed, as it often does in charles' presence, to gravitate toward a certain pair of gold crushed velvet versace thrift store pants of his, which i kindly saved him from ever having to wear again by giving them to another friend who promptly moved to houston. long story, but he should never have left the ugly things at my house after that halloween in the first place. Thursday, June 07, 2001
i like rain. i like storms in general, as long as they stay away from my computer. we've needed some rain around here. but for god sake, enough already... tropical storm allison is over, but still it rains, and rains, and floods the street and cars go whoooshh!!! by outside my window... and the hurricane season has only just begun. and for some reason that i don't understand because i'm automobile-illiterate, my mountaineer does bad things in floodwater. like, for example, it loses power steering. well, it pretty much looses steering in general. which it did yesterday. i think this is bad, i've been told it's a factory defect type thing, but what do i know. i guess i'll have it checked at my next oil change, for which i'm already overdue. arg. but i do like driving around in the rain (the heavier the better) where it's not flooded, with the air conditioner on high and the new radiohead album on. if it keeps raining i'll have to do more of that.
ok, here are my new cd reviews - keep in mind that these are four of my favorite artists/bands, so i'm biased here anyway ( though the fact that last week i called out the disappointing new release by air leads me to believe that i can be fairly objective even with my sometime favorites - or maybe it's just that that album was simply undeniably that much worse than their previous work... ) if you disagree or agree with me on any of these, or just don't know what the hell i'm talking about, please let me know. anyway, here's the short version, after only a couple of listens a piece - so these are subject to change... lucinda williams, essence : where "car wheels..." was a gut-bucket blues-rocker, this album is slower, a bit quieter, more measured beauty than raw emotion. it's more atmospheric - in a cowboy junkies sort of way - and will probably occasion less late night highway driving alone sing-alongs than did "car wheels". the more subdued delivery does make lucinda's penchant for repetetive lyrics more apparent than in previous albums. overall, though, the outstanding musicianship and of course lucinda's voice, settled into a nice, honeyed groove throughout - makes this a great follow-up to "car wheels," and a great album in it's own right. radiohead, amnesiac : the word on the street was that this album was radiohead's return to guitar driven, verse-chorus-verse rock. more accessible, more likely to have a radio hit. um, no. amnesiac, recorded at the same session as kid a, is more of the same haunting, complex, beautiful mix of electronica, rock, and thom yorke's delicately mumbled puzzles above it all. and then some. if anything, it's more experimental than kid a: it branches off in more directions, i think, mining a good bit of new stylistic territory - ie, more instrumentation, including some very new orleans sounding horns... but at the same time benefits from several more months of production time, and sounds a bit more a cohesive whole. if you liked kid a, you'll love amnesiac. the continental drifters, better day : our favorite metairie borders employees have again crafted what seems to be another great roots-inflected pop album (or pop-inflected roots rock album) of the twangy, soulful, sha-na-na-na variety. catchy melodies, melodic layered harmonies, harmonic, jangly hooks... as with the first two drifters albums, their habit of switching off lead vocals can sometimes be disconcerting, but ultimately lends another layer of complexity and variety to the album as a whole. good stuff... why the hell we don't go see them more often when they play around town, i don't know. rufus wainwright, poses : rufus wainwright's music is 'popera' - as in pop + operatic ( + all kinds of other stuff ) but whatever it is it's beautiful, and lyrically stunning. this album, like his first (eponymous), is decorated with all sorts of small flourishes, little details that make the music so much more than the sum of its parts - a piano solo here, a little reverb there, musical nods and quotes to classical melodies, etc... poses is tuneful and catchy and exquisitely produced, and wainwright's voice ties it all together ... however, as a whole, for some reason this album is less arresting and captivating - at least on the first few listens - than his first one, in that it seems prone to fading into the background, where the first album demanded to be first listened to intently, and then sung along with... Wednesday, June 06, 2001
i think what separates human beings from animals is our capacity - no, our tendency - to make irrational decisions. decisions which are contrary to own best interests. i'm not talking about philanthropy, chivalry, martydom or heroic acts - those are rational decisions contrary to one's own interests, where, even if for only a split second, a person decides that someone else's ass is more valuable than their own. so take noble sacrifices out of the picture. mothers of all species will fight to the death defending their young, etc.. no, i'm talking about doing stupid, fucked up shit that makes no sense and makes your life miserable. everyone i know who is in whatever they consider a bad situation, with a very few exceptions, is responsible for putting themselves there - and/or remaining there - through a series of these irrational decisions. i suppose this applies to all sorts of things, from indulgence in bad habits like smoking, to consciously entering oneself into situations which are potentially dangerous or stupid or both. I know all this is true, because although this whole train of thought was inspired by watching the events of someone else's life unfolding, it quickly became clear to me that i myself stand as a prime, textbook example of the phenomenon. that in and of itself is a symptom of this idiot disease - the ability to consciously recognize the absurdity, futility, and error of one's ways and yet continue to be sucked into the maelstrom, like a moth to one of those blue electric zapper things. or a flame. so, the trick is to escape, by force of sheer will, from the pull of the tractor beam... so i guess i'd better start working on it... Tuesday, June 05, 2001
ahhhh, the suspense is killing me - after an early morning stop at borders, i don't know where to start... rufus? radiohead? lucinda? the drifters? i think i'll go with... lucinda. i'll report back after a day of listening with some reviews...
moulin rouge: say what you will, i thought it was brilliant. and horrible. but brilliant. it was over-the-top, over-done, vegas-meets-disney self-consicous fiction, and it had fun doing it. it was "pure entertainment" writ large on the movie screen for the first time in recent memory. it tore down pop conventions that have not been challenged in our culture for decades, with a gorgeous mix of deconstruction, absurdism, burlesque and grotesque. it made pop songs - not rock opera crap like tommy - real, made for radio consumption popular music - and rebuilt them as showtunes, as opera, as cabaret, used them for their words and their melodies for cheap thrills... it was sampling and re-mixing worthy of the best djs (no surprise that moby contributed a track...) i think moulin rouge is a stunt in the manipulation, re-use, & re-purposing of media, and an incredibly successful one at that (eg. - new life to eighties madonna songs 'material girl' and 'like a virgin' - who'da thought, much less have seen it pulled off as a musical??) ... and yes, of course, the plot, the love story, the whole premise was silly and absurd and unoriginal - but that is, after all, the point, making the cheesiest most generic love story a work of sheer entertainment, a play within a play within a movie... it wasn't about making something original, it was about taking things other people have done time and time again and breaking them down to pure unadulterated common denominator, distilling madonna and gilbert & sullivan and kurt weill all into their very essences - shiny, electric, pure drops of emotionally manipulative energy - now that's entertainment. oh, yeah. and nicole kidman is goddamn gorgeous... Monday, June 04, 2001
i feel like hell. I haven't slept a bite or eaten a wink all day. ok, well, three hours and a raspberry fruit bar. and a backlog of work to do, because it's monday, and it's the beginning of the month. god damn. my theology and geometry are all fucked up. not to mention my snoots. oh, my poor valve! oh, the diodes in my left side!
i pull into the parking lot, it's nearly 3:30am. having just been to snake & jakes, for the first time in quite a while - different but the same... new orleans summer night, the bona fide kind, hot and muggy and sticks to your skin, the photoshop clouds are orange against the purple curtain of the sky, the air is thick and visible and it takes effort to breathe, to draw the liquid into your lungs, the mosquitos are fat and slow, lethargic with blood bellies and you can get them, swat them, red smear and black insect body crushed on your fingers; inside your vehicle it's cold, the air is on high and you can feel the air blasting from the vents, it's too cold but it is good because outside, just outside this driver's side window, pushing against this windowshield, is the warm wet hand of the night, and if that window went down just a bit, the seal would be broken, the sweat, the liquid night, the warm purple clouds moving so quickly over the moon, misshapen tonight, would all flood in, and i know exactly what it will feel like when i open the door, i can taste the first dark breath when i open the door, i have to get out sometime, i can't just sleep in the car with the max a/c, so i get out and it knocks me back, it's heavy and languid and i can feel the atmospheres of pressure between myself and the moon, incongrously bright then a darker shade with clouds and then obscured altoghether, gone, i wait but its gone through the branches of the oaks, and it doesn't reappear until i stop looking. my glasses fog up, at first i can't see but i keep walking, i look out above the lenses for direction, carrying the fog with me, walking and looking at the halos around every light, watching the fog slowly disappear in strange, haunting shapes... Sunday, June 03, 2001
another weekend, another blur... went out with charles and christine and her friend laura, who has an uncanny ability to attract the attention of scary strangers, apparently - saw some good bars, some good shows, some good food... jacque-imo's, though i won't go into any more detail than that... and spent today at the pool with the supahstahs... very nice. and met a very pretty new neighbor while i was at it.
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