ultra violent skin block *

cryptic conversation openers from V, my wonderful but eccentric housemate:
'bougainvillea – inside!'
'more space!'
'chest.'
'good day to be under a house.'

V joined us for dinner friday night when i made japanese food – glazed salmon, hijiki (a type of seaweed) with carrots and sesame seeds, cucumbers with lemon zest and ginger, and miso eggplant. my friend gameboy, who sublet my loft while i was in indonesia, also came over to feast before meeting up with friends at lucky 13...where he never arrived. but not because we plied him with lots of good shiraz, predictably rambling conversation, and because V had 1 giant leap on DVD. he lowered the projection screen and turned the surround sound up loud. a beautiful piece of work.

saturday night my neighbor across the hall had her master's thesis performance at mills. she's an incredibly busy experimental cellist – inadequate as that descriptor is – who plays with everyone from moe!kestra! to fred frith. unfortunately, i opted not to attend, as this cold has progressed to the obnoxious-barking-cough-and-phlegm-in-the-diaphragm stage. gross.

though loath to pollute that noise with my noise, i had no problem politely hacking over (not on) brunch with our friend M and G, her ex. M won four tickets at a work raffle for a sunday brunch cruise on the bay. sunday was yet another unexpectedly spectacular, sunny day after months of pouring rain. as everyone else descended on the buffet just being laid out, we sipped champagne on the deck and chatted about such happy topics as GG bridge suicides (this documentary is currently being screened at the SF international film fest), G nearly capsizing just outside the golden gate when a swell smacked their boat down, and how you only really have 20 minutes to swim from alcatraz to SF before hypothermia sets in.

once we'd stuffed ourselves with mussels (on the boat they are called 'muscles'), bread pudding, beef wellington and whatever other artery-clogging items we'd piled on our various plates, we disembarked and stood blinking in the sun, contemplating a tag-team act of very petty theft. since we'd spent our first productive hours of the day being completely lazy and decadent while others were responsibly demonstrating for darfur, we spent the rest of the day continuing our slide downhill. we walked up to north beach for beers at caffe trieste, poked around a musty music/junk shop and then city lights, and then stopped for a wine and bread break at enrico's. then we went all the way out to ocean beach for a pre-dinner beer at the park chalet, before dinner at a secret spot in the richmond. and another bottle of wine. i think my liver is about to expire.

but i have some good color in my face again. my legs, sadly, are another matter.



* from a fake diesel t-shirt B gave me last summer, emblazoned with katakana and the words 'ultra violent skin block'. i gave it to dos equis last week, who looks 100 times better in it than i do.