I seem to have fallen into a posting rut. I've got lots to say, but find myself overly editing my thoughts for print. To the point where there's nothing left to type. Suffice it to say i'm in a bit of an existentialist haze at the moment. That's what a twentysomething preoccupation with Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre will get you. A sequence of introspection, illness, and uncertainty has robbed me of my verve. Temporarily, i expect, but nonetheless i'm not the most exciting companion at the moment.

Tony Wilson may have a point that Shaun Ryder is the modern Yeats. Despite his infatuation with the "destroyer of talent", as Wilson put it.

i wrote for luck, they sent me you
i sent for juice, you give me poison
i order a line, you form a queue

you used to speak the truth, but now you're clever

let it bleed let it heal, let me sleep it's no good
so let's ride, ride on ride on

V and i had big plans for the weekend, but lingering bugs denied us the requisite momentum and saw our activities significantly curtailed. We did manage to take Tara to the dog park, which is fast becoming one of her favorite pasttimes. She still doesn't play persay, but is slowly integrating herself with the rambling pack of dogs that cavorts on the dog park lawn. She's fine with both the big and little dogs, but seems to enjoy the freedom of the larger big dog area. I still see her as having a bit of a chip on her shoulder, a sort of Napoleon-esque complex that she must exercise authority over the park. Of course that attitude declines quickly when a larger dog tries to roughhouse with her and she realizes she's vastly overmatched. I haven't seen any significant fights at the park yet ... so far it's been a great place to relax and meet new doggies.

V and i also determined that Tara is indeed mostly rat terrier, thanks to a magazine we picked up at Petco. However she doesn't really fit the personality profile ... she's just Tara.

I'm getting pretty excited about the forthcoming Playstation3 release, despite the grim forecast of widespread console shortages. I'm pondering putting in an online preorder at EBGames.com, although oddly they still haven't activated that option despite launch being just over a month away.

On Sunday V and i met up with my old Boston CMIR friend Vivek, now a San Francisco resident and Xenogen employee, for brunch in Sausalito at the Lighthouse. We reminisced for a few hours on our drive across the Golden Gate and again back south, taking advantage of the gorgeous weather. We decided to drive Vivek up Twin Peaks to show him the amazing view, but our plans were thwarted by our failure to account for the Blue Angels airshow going on over the city as part of Fleet Week. As such there were a few thousand other souls atop Twin Peaks, so we decided to just drive around the summit for a few minutes. We did see and hear the aerial daredevils scream over us several times. I always enjoy that, although Veronica counters that for someone who works in the city, the Blue Angels and Fleet Week are a veritable menace.

all this frustration
i can't meet all my desires
strange conversation
self-control has just expired

i'm living in the weirdest dream
where nothing is the way it seems
where no one's who they need to be
where nothing seems that real to me
what can we build our lives upon
no wall of stone, no solid ground
the world is spinning endlessly
we're clinging to our own beliefs
born of frustration

You know, some days i'd like to live in a Jack Kerouac novel. Desolation Angels, indeed.