i started looking at different places to hold a event again, but i havent found much yet. sena and i are going to ikea today to look at chairs and tables and things. weve decided we need to suck it in and buy some things to fill our apartment. (ok, she decided this a long time ago, and i finally just gave in.)

ikea has a lot of things. and it is always packed. i mean, mall-like packed. three floors or something. with people everywhere. most of these people drives saabs or land rovers. im told its that swedish/off-shore effect.

they have some really nice rugs. id like a nice rug.

everyone i know is going to see wing commander, but not for the movie. if i was this movie, i would be sad. half of the audience will most likely leave after the star wars trailer plays. the other half are just stubborn and plan to torture themselves with a thin plotline and bad acting based on a cheesy video game just to get their ‘moneys worth.’

quicktime was enough for me. real video doesnt hold shit on QT.

fuck streaming, i like quality.

i got a video from BMW today. its a ‘welcome to the family’ sort of deal. i havent taken the time to read it yet, maybe this weekend.

my cousins will be coming in this evening. actually my cousin and her husband. they are staying with us until morning when they are flying out of midway to florida. i wish i was going to florida.

taber is flying in on wednesday. hes never been to chicago.

ive heard there is a big problem with kids ordering booze on the internet. seventeen, eighteen year-olds with credit cards drinking it up in parents basements and shoe-size dorm rooms across the country.

all i can say is, i wish i would have had that technology then.

this guy i went to high school with was on television today. the discovery channel.

it seems he is building satellites for NASA or some other company. he seems to really enjoy it. at least they edited the interview that way.

hes working on some sort of mars walker, i think. i missed the beginning. wouldnt that be a job. part of history, probably.

not like me. not just another fast-walking, loud-talking, eyes-to-the-ground yuppy. hes more than that.

that why hes on television and not me.

hey remember that story about the guy with the dye? the man who likes to sneak down and pour some ink into the river?

he was found dead this morning. in an alley off washington.

sad really, he was a good guy. choked on his own vomit, it seems. he always did like to drink.

heres to you friend. rest easy.

‘i was going to be a paleontologist once.’

“well why didnt you do it?”

‘i dont have the patience. that, and i didnt have the grades.’

“patience takes time.”

‘that was the problem.’

i was watching old videos the other day. i brought one with me when we came to chicago. i sat down with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate and remembered.

it was 1988 again. first video camera. i was amazed at the technology. it recorded pictures and audio – and we could afford it.

we used the camera a lot that year. my parents taped everything, and i am so happy they did. we rode bikes, we played kickball, we danced in the living room with orange carpet and brown wood paneling. dinas voice squeaked, dana pouted, and i posed for the camera. we were best friends, only friends.

the tape jumps, scratches, and comes back on. five years later. high school footage of a dance. maybe homecoming. cheap suits and cheaper smiles. mom doesnt seem so happy, or maybe she is and she is just nervous. nervous about letting go.

i dont really cry, but i do tonight. im happy. i am now and i was then. i dont regret anything ive done, which is amazing. ive had a good life.

the video camera sits on the chair now, and it points out to me and my family. there we are, all the same, all a bit older. our friendship has wained, but we still remember.

my mom looks at us right at the end, right before the tape snaps off. she just seems so proud. she smiles and jokes with my dad.

the tapes clicks off and the tv buzzes. i get up and walk to the the glass door overlooking the snow covered pines and leafless oaks. 1988 was a good year.

‘put tyler on the phone.’

“he cant come to the phone. hes in the yard.”

‘can you call him in?’

“hes on the chain.”

‘can you go get him?’

“no.”

‘why not?’

“hes doing something to the other dog.”

‘oh….well have him call me back.’

“will do.”

i met this kid today, his name is allan.

allan and i were talking in the lunch forum at the mall, a place i rarely go. mostly because it is expensive. also because it is crowded.

but back to allan. allan is ten. allan is also autistic. well, at least this is what he tells me. i can hardly understand some of what he says. he has a lisp that keeps him from pronouncing certain words. but the rest i understand.

he is here with his mom, who he loves. his stepfather told him he needed new clothes, no more rags. i can tell he doesnt like him. i dont like him either.

allans mom is in a ‘girl place’, which i can only assume to be the bathroom or some perfume and lingerie store. i nod in understanding. ive been there before.

i walk with allan for a few minutes, and i wonder how i was when i was his age. i never talked. i never absorbed as he is. ive never seen eyes so wide, soaking life in. i wish i could do that.

we parted at dairy queen. his mom was back, and she was calling him. i wanted a blizzard with m&ms.

“guhbuh duhtin.”

‘goodbye, allan.’