Hello World

I met a LiveJournal person last night.

Specifically, I met joffy, who is not even my friend on LJ. More specifically, she is one of the only people on LJ who I have actively disliked. I find her incredibly annoying, and although I am aware that she does stuff specifically to bother people that doesn't stop her from irritating me. So when she started joking about stalking me and sent an emissary to negotiate on her behalf, well, how could I say no?

Anyway, it was uneventful, except that apparently she assumed I was a huge asshole (I can't imagine why!), and I think was disappointed that I didn't start off by throwing my drink in her face. Eventually I managed to convince her that I am in fact boring, not obnoxious, and so she left--but not before we documented the momentous occasion:



Oh, and what did I think about her? I thought she was nice, and easy to talk to.

Yesterday, I met a couple of friends in Adams Morgan for dinner. It was warm, and there was a vendor on the street selling water-ice (sort of sorbet-ish stuff), so after we ate we stopped and picked up a few cups. My friends got tamarind/mango and mango/coconut, and I got RAINBOW. Rainbow, to be fair, is less a flavor and more a color scheme, so I guess the best description of what kind I got would be sucrose.

Anyway, we were walking with our water-ices, and after a while a bunch of mine had melted into a mufti liquid subsuming a rapidly-diminishing mound of pale sugary ice. I decided to get rid of the sweet ichor, and started to pour it onto the sidewalk, when suddenly a voice cried out, "No!"

The plaintive yell came from a woman in pink--dry hair like old wheat, faded skin, a trace of a moustache perched jauntily above her sashimi lips. Possibly a transvestite, almost definitely a drug-addled shell. I was confused, but thought that perhaps she was upset with me for wasting food.

"I'm still eating it, just getting rid of the melted part," I explained.

"Give me it," she said, holding her hand out, palm up, expectantly.

"No, I still want the ice. I'm pouring out the liquid."

"I know. Give me the liquid."

I looked at her, dubious. "You want the liquid?" She nodded, her animal desire for melted sugar-water gleaming in her glassy eyes. "Well, all right."

I tipped the cup, my spoon poised just above its rim as a sieve. Blood-red fluid streamed down into her palm, and after a few seconds she said, "okay, that's enough." I stopped pouring, and she walked away, her hand still in front of her like she held the holy communion. Although I don't believe any translation of the New Testament suggests that melted street desserts can be a part of Christ's transubstantiation.

We walked the other way, to sit on the porch and drink some beer while the fireflies did their thing.

Just another day in our nation's capital.

You may be asking yourselves, what did calamityjake do after work on Tuesday night? You'll never believe it. I met bloggers! I went to Sette Ostoria in Dupont Circle, where I reconnoitered (or perhaps I just connoitered) with Aaron, Brandon, Kat, and Supine. To be honest, I was really only familiar with Brandon's blog (and he was the only one familiar with mine). Now, of course, I have to start reading everyone's and pretend I like them! Just kidding, guys, I think you're great! Maybe! HAHAHAHA!!!!

Anyway, we talked about blogs (predictably), crazy Utah (not entirely unexpectedly), Dexy's Midnight Runners (we think Dexy moved on to form Air Supply), and our indescribably-painful self-loathing (this was after a couple fancy drinks). It was fun, and everyone had a lot to say, and not a little to drink.

The most discomfiting thing, really, was how normal everyone was. I miss the good old days, when you could count on internet people to be anti-social geeky weirdos. Back in the day, it was not so easy to FIND AN ONRAMP TO THE INFORMATION SUPERHIGHWAY. I mean, you really had to put in some work to illegally download intellectual property, you coded your website in vi and checked your email via PINE, you actually had to worry about ping timeouts. And you know who was willing to put in the effort to do these things? Total losers, that's who--total losers who lacked the capacity to form satisfying real-life relationships, who desperately sought out a medium of communication that took appearance and personality out of the equation, leaving pure intellect and angst. Now those were some fun people to meet.

Nowadays, every Tom, Dick, and Harry--even people with serviceable social skills--can mosey over to blogspot and start a blog. Which is fine and good, I suppose, but you know, at this rate I'll never achieve my goal of being the Coolest Guy on the Internet. I knew this was a serious problem when Zach Braff started a blog for Garden State, and now that Matthew McConaughey has (or had) one I think I might as well just give up. I could probably still lock up the title of Coolest Guy Who Still Plays Magic: the Gathering. I'd have to start playing Magic: the Gathering, but I've stooped lower before, to boost my self-esteem.

At any rate, I had a good time talking to the bloggers and definitely recommend that you check out their blogs, which are all much more interesting than this self-indulgent nonsense.

In other news: My next post is #500, and I promise you it will be filled with soul-baring and disarming honesty. Also, it will be about sex.