the music was boring and
insightful
—Joshua
Beckman
Meaning
takes on many different forms. Like
meaning-
less. And meaninglessness. Among other variants. Let’s
say,
for example, that I am two thousand years old and
am
experiencing an anniversary of sorts. To
keep it from
being
dull, I walk to my fellow anniversarent’s office. It
gets very
complicated, so I won’t go into that.
Let’s just
use the
word awkward.
Breathe
in, eventually. Sorry.
Saturday
went kind of fast. We had a reading with
a
very
nice voice. There was a good
presence. Then
we
messed around with our iPods, creating playing
lists,
etc. Then we stayed the night at a
birthday
party. We got the celebutante a princess purse
(since it was a
princess party) filled with
tickets to the circus.
I just
got off the phone. I don’t think he
liked his
present.
We all slept a bit on the floor, in sleeping
bags
that were just purchased for the occasion.
And
then Sunday morning we all walked home
in the
mist, stopping three times along the way:
first, at
Starbucks, of course; then, to watch
Prince
Charles’ entourage head for the top of
Nob
Hill (he and Camilla are in town,
apparently
staying at the Four Seasons);
and
lastly, to check out a tiny half a million
dollar condo across the street from where
we live,
which
is a peach of a place, much cheaper
than a
half a million dollars. Later we had
dim sum
at Lychee Garden, walked around
North
Beach, North Point, Polk Street,
and
watched Naruto episodes. We
had a
lovely dinner (home cooked!)
and both went to bed early for work.
