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Kim's birthday
Wednesday, June 30 1999
Today was Kim's 29th birthday. I don't know anything about buying presents for girls so yesterday I'd stopped at Barnes and Noble (sans the .com; this place was solid brick and mortar) and picked up three books, one about cults, one about herbal medicine, and one about independent cinema. Not having any paper, I wrapped them in a colourful towel and gave them to Kim this morning.
For some of us in the engineering department, it was another day of growing skepticism over the new architecture. I was present for a casual meeting between Eric the Web Developer and the two Navy Seal guys, (two of the three greatest champions of the new system). Rarely have I seen such a clash of egos. The Navy Seal guys are arrogant and haughty, with all the swagger of people who have bloodlessly seized power from a bungling former regime. They laughed a lot, but was a wicked a kind of laughter. They're confident, but only to a point. Their insecurity begins to show when they're asked truly difficult questions. Eric also has lots of swagger and a deep, abiding pride in his work. But in the presence of the Navy Seals he behaves like a defeated functionary from a discredited governmental body. He wonders aloud why he isn't being consulted by anyone working to build the new infrastructure. And he openly discusses personality clashes he's had over the past few days with the champion of the new way.
The entire engineering department is in a state of turmoil. We're told we're supposed to be doing all of our development for the new architecture, but the new architecture isn't anywhere near completed and what little of it exists has never been placed under any load. While overt criticism of the new architecture is still taboo, it's inherently impossible to suppress. Interesting, the rumours with the greatest mobility are, for the most part, critiques of the personalities of the developers of the new architecture. And, not missing a beat, they're reacted by criticizing us. Caught in swirling assertions and counter-assertions are the likes of Dave the other old-time Web Developer. He pretty much goes along with the flow and as such is usually adopted by whatever paradigm wields the most power. He does their bidding, but he never goes into it any deeper than his ankles. He's ready to withdraw with a completely unsullied reputation the moment the new architecture should prove inherently defective.
At home, Kim told me about her Alanis Morrisettesque birthday. She woke up and found that, in addition to being her time of the year, it was also her time of the month. What a birthday bummer! She then went to Rite Aid to get glue to make invites for tomorrow's Cyclefly show, but it was still early and the Rite Aid was closed. So she went home and parked on the street. A few minutes later she found a parking ticket on her window.
Kim and I had the idea of maybe going out to dinner. But events conspired to keep us home. Firstly, Lisa from next door came over. Her boyfriend Andy was gone for the evening and she was kind of bored and looking for something to do. She happened to show up just as Kim and I were in the midst of a little fight, and for a moment there it looked as if Kim and Lisa were going to do the girls night out sort of thing. But it didn't work out that way. Kim and I joked our way to the end of the fight and then we three all drank beer and wine and smoked some pot. Lisa suggested we go down to Winstons in downtown Ocean Beach to see some sort of band. Adding urgency to this plan, she went home to get dressed.
Meanwhile Kim, always the social planner, had me call up my co-worker Al and invite him over. She wanted the social intrigue of being in a contingent with a good male to female ratio, even if one of the females was the essentially-married girl from next door and one of the males was just another of my sexually-frustrated bachelor-colleagues.
After Al arrived there was a really hilarious episode
when Lisa took him next door
to her apartment
to show him his picture,
part of a group photo on her refrigerator,
and Al noticed a fully-loaded assault rifle clip
just laying around
and Lisa said,
"Oh, that belongs to my boyfriend,"
and Al was thinking,
"Do you think you could take my picture off your refrigerator?"
I was so stoned that every idea in my head seemed incredibly deep and profound. Kim was talking about getting facials at a place where they had a metal device that automatically squeezed all the blackheads out of your face. I wanted to know what was done with all the black heads and white snakes the device collected. I imagined them being melted into a clear fluid and poured into wax moulds, perhaps to be used in dog food. But the stuff was probably too rare to be used for such a lowly purpose. Either Kim or Lisa suggested that it might be used as the glue to hold the rice together in sushi.
Then, out of nowhere, I made up the word "rocktopus." Whenever I'm not in my usual deeply cynical mode, I tend to think of words like that as great names for bands.
We walked down to Newport and picked up sushi to go from the Sapporo's. Even on a Wednesday night, the streets were alive with craziness.
Somehow in my stoned, drunken, exuberant state, I made it to bed at a reasonable hour. Tomorrow for me would be just another day of being a netslave.
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