not falling down

But compared to my siblings (who, I have explained to many people’s astonished eyes, are in Hilo and Oxford) I am the kid who ain’t never been past yonder fence. Caitlan has a beautiful post up now about her triennial trips to Italy with her friends Christi and Melissa, with whom I was privileged to ransack Innsbruck last summer.

Can you believe Sam Elliott’s IMDB photo shows him without a moustache? I mean, it doesn’t even look like him!

Ian and I typed almost simultaneously today that his only real job in Tombstone (which I finally saw, and did anyone else realize that Ben Foster was doing a Val Kilmer imitation throughout 3:10 to Yuma?) was to grow a moustache, which is also what he did in The Big Lebowski and (apparently) Ghost Rider. Looks like he’ll be reprising that role in The Golden Compass. You can’t argue with success.

I guess it’s like they say: some are born to moustache, some achieve moustache, and some have moustache thrust upon them.

I’m willing to bet that anyone who meets Sam Elliott quickly becomes the latter.

When Ian and I talk on the phone it is for express and efficient reasons, so we don’t really bother with greeting protocols. When I called Ian earlier this evening to determine the provenance of one of Yale’s expletives, I forgot that he wouldn’t have my new cell number, and I was already on edge in a feverish Halo match. Thus:

Ian: Hello?
Brendan: DO YOU SAY FUCK BEANS!
Ian: … Who is this?

Yesterday Maria and I looked at the best apartment in the world, and today she applied for the lease; assuming she gets it, we’ll be moving in mid-February, and I will probably just be leaving my stuff in boxes in anticipation of leaving Kentucky. My very, very tentative plans for the move are to buy my brother’s truck for the transportation involved and drive to wherever I’m going sometime between February and April.

For those of you paying attention: yes, this means I’m going to get my driver’s license.

There really isn’t a better time in my life to do this. Everything I need to do my job fits in a backpack, and I can work from any coffee shop in the country. All that’s missing is a destination.

Excluding New York City and the South in general, where should I move? I want to live in a metropolitan area with a healthy tech sector. Also, truck or no truck, I want somewhere with good public transportation. Chicago (sorry, Flora) and St. Louis don’t really interest me; all the places I’ve traditionally talked about are coastal, but it’s not like I surf. Said places:

• Boston: I understand there is neat stuff here, and also they put all the cars underground.
  • Downside: I’ve never been there and I might dislike it for the same reasons I dislike New York (cold, dark, smells bad, cost of living).

• Providence: I’ve been there and I liked it a lot.
  • Downside: Not really a rising-star tech city, and rumor has it the sun sets for six months at a time. Iffy public transit (but highly walkable).

• San Francisco Bay Area: Been there and liked it too. Kind of the standard to which I compare all other potential destinations.
  • Downside: I would be a twentysomething male web developer living in the SF Bay Area. Also, insane rent.

• Seattle: High scores in tech and coffee-shop availability.
  • Downside: See SF Bay Area.

• Portland: Apparently the place where kids move these days.
  • Downside: See Boston.

• Hilo or Honolulu: Ian might be in Hilo in August, plus, y’know, Hawaii.
  • Downside: This is a stupid idea.

• Greensboro or Raleigh-Durham: The model of a rising tech area; driving distance from Jon and Amanda.
  • Downside: Jon and Amanda might be moving, and more importantly, this defeats the whole point of getting out of the South.

• San Diego: I’ve been there and I liked it; solid tech score; not wet, dark or smelly; people can crash my place for Comic Con.
  • Downside: Poor public transit. Would probably be considered outcast for weird skin patterns that emerge when I tan.

• London: I have beautiful illusions of this place.
  • Downside: This isn’t actually a possibility. I’m pretty sure I cannot legally work there, or afford to live there under a weak dollar. Also I’m enjoying those illusions and would dislike having them crushed. Consider all this repeated for Sydney and Toronto.

The pachyderm in the pantry is that except for the unlikely choices (North Carolina, London, possibly Hawaii), I have no friends in any of these places, and I am spectacularly bad at meeting new people. All of my current friends were obtained through academic programs with enforced social contact or Internet. So, friends on Internet: where should I move?

Update 1038 hrs: Maria got the apartment! Who wants to give me driving lessons?

Thanks to everybody who has commented or emailed with advice and information. You guys are the best Internet ever!

I discovered a few minutes ago that I have not only a big black splinter in the heel of my hand, but a hell of broken nail on that hand’s ring finger. My hand was in no such condition when I went to bed last night. What exactly am I doing in my sleep?

I know I haven’t written anything in here in like ten weeks; I have been saving up the biggest thing for the day when it actually happens. Meanwhile, Maria bought a red car, we ate at the Mayan Gypsy three times in a week, Ian touched down like a spinning stone, and Brenna will never trust us again.

I made brownie pie and we ate Spinelli’s. DC and Beth got me a book and a bunch of great Actors Theatre stuff, and Yale got me some stuff he found in his car, and he, Ken, Kyle, Scott, Lisa, Monica, Mom, Ian, Maria’s family and especially Maria got me a present I would never have let myself buy: a real camera.

Thanks, ballers.

My brother Ian wants to move to Hawaii and live in a sailboat. He also enjoys poker.

Me: Bad news–all gambling is illegal in Hawaii.

Ian: Illegal gambling isn’t!

Ian has been and gone, leaving giggles and makeouts in his wake. Thank you very, very much to Deb Core, Sumana Harihareswara, Joan Wood, Sharon Calhoun, Lisa Brown, Scott Stauble, Kyle Neumann, Angel Brooks, Ken Moore, Monica Willett, Sean Hoban, and especially Maria, whose idea this was in the first place. You guys are the champions of friendship!

HEY BALLERS. There will exist, this week, an unprecedented Wednesday Night Basketball because that’s when Ian will be here. There will be games and pizza. There will be shouting. Tuesday Night Basketball will not happen, because we will need the evening to fortify the apartment against you barbarians, but if Scott and Yale and Kilz0r are available we should try to do the thing with the stuff, that night. Right?

PS If you have pledged money toward the Bring Ian Home Fund and want to give it to us so you get to sign the card, the next few days would be ideal for that–we’ll be handing it over Wednesday night. (If you have already paid but can’t be there, we will forge your signature.) Thanks very, very much to everyone who has helped with this!

Maria and I are bringing Ian home from LA for Thanksgiving, so he can eat food that is not peanut butter or jelly. It turns out that plane tickets around that time cost some money! We have the flight already reserved; he’ll leave early Wednesday morning, the 23rd, and return Sunday.

If you would like to help make Ian come home for Thanksgiving, we would really like it if you’d give us some ten or twenty bucks. Cash or checks are fine, and I can give you my mailing address if you have to mail a check. We’ll have a card for him that you can sign and I will even make you out a receipt.

He won’t be around for Tuesday Night Basketball, so maybe we can have a special-occasion Basketball on a different night instead. I think that would be fun. Imagine that it is like a charity benefit party, and you can deduct its cost from your taxes! Except you can’t, but come on, like you pay taxes anyway.