Brain chemistry all messed up. I've been going turbo all week and am running out of lithium crystals. Work was long and hard — a bunch of neurosurgeon spine doctors in house, which meant excellent money but sometimes you have to say enough and hibernate. Weekend plan: household chores. Those dirty socks smell.
No sun — no moon!
No morn — no noon —
No dawn — no dusk — no proper time of day.
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! —
November!
— Thomas Hood
The Indoboard arrived. This thing is addictive — like surfing indoors, uses all the same muscles. I had to ride my bike down to the UPS in South Seattle and carry it back through the International District with everyone staring at me. Once home: one hour straight on it. My plan is to get the footwork down, then take surf lessons in Baja.
Do NOT use the Indoboard under the influence. The board will fly around like you wouldn't believe. I tried to pull off a crossover hang-ten and bailed hard on my floor. My ferrets came over and licked my face. I may have a dislocated shoulder. The home is indeed the most dangerous place.
Midnight Oil came to the Showbox. For a group formed way back in 1971, these guys can still rock. Peter Garrett was as energetic as ever. The crowd was eclectic — lots of Aussies drunk, everyone else about my age and mostly normal. They played for an hour and forty-five minutes, all the popular works plus new material, and rewarded us with two encores and a solo encore from Peter. I was sad when it was over.
As part of my diversity and cultural understanding mission, I attempted to fast for Ramadan. First day complete — it's not the food that's hard, it's the fluids. No fluids from sunrise to sundown. My tongue was all cottonmouth, and I wasn't even high. At 4:45pm I grabbed my water bottle and gulped. One cool thing: going to get coffee that morning, to the south was my first sighting of the new moon, while the Sacred Heart Catholic church rang its bells. Two different worlds, at that moment one. Pretty cool.
My Ramadan fast lasted one day. It's harder than it sounds. I will continue to study this religion as an interest towards better understanding, but will just surround myself with crystals and other quasi-hippie things instead. It's easier that way.
Just back from a very nice dinner. These girls never cook, and for them to pull off a complete dinner for 15 was more than impressive. Nice turkey, some ham, all the fixings, good wine, good company. I'm not a real fan of holidays — probably something to do with being an only child. I've adopted Jessica and Cindy as my little sisters, and I imagine this must be what it's like. Either way: very nice.
The largest black hole ever found — mass of 14 suns, 40,000 light years away — was just discovered. Even now it is pulling in energy from a nearby star. Too much astrophysics can make one a little wild.
Back to geocaching after a few weeks off due to weather. Turns out the local news (KING 5 Evening Magazine) was doing a story on geocaching, and the cache was right down the street from the station. I found it while they were filming the 11 o'clock show. I could see them in there doing the job. I left a flag from the Netherlands and took a little Vespa pin. Back home by the time the weather segment was on.
Also: moved everything over to the new internet domain. The address is brooksgroves.com. That will be easier to explain than the old one.
Going back to the Netherlands in January — just a week, and in January at that, but it should be nice to get away. I want to check out the new Euro firsthand, see the Dutch speed skaters, maybe do a little curling. It's just something to do.
Holy shit! The FBI thinks they may have caught the Green River Killer. It's all over the news — it's been like 20 years. Only last week I was watching the Discovery Channel story about the case and was ready to start looking myself. The main suspect is in custody. Still only linked to 4 of the 49 missing women, but fits the profile well.
It was also the 2-year anniversary of the WTO riots here in Seattle. A week I will always remember. This year: a few anarchists, a few arrests, nothing like that week two years ago. I remember missing a whole week of school, and my studies suffered, but I learned more in that week than I had in school for some time. It started at a Sierra Club rally — 20,000 of us marched right into a war zone. Windows breaking, cars overturning, a blockade of the convention centre. I was at the Roosevelt Hotel, forming a human chain. The tear gas, the rubber bullets, the bonfires, someone in a highrise apartment playing Jimi Hendrix's "Star Spangled Banner" out a window — it reverberated down the street. Hours and hours of it. I couldn't get home and had to walk all the way to the University District for a bus.
Two years later I am a different person. Now, instead of running around in the streets, I play the game and make my voice heard in other ways. But I know I would be right back out there if I had to. N30 1999 started the first day of a new way of thinking for myself, and the way I was before will never be again.
And that is how I am going to end this journal of November 2001. Peace, and Love.