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2007-08-13 2:21 a.m.

form is emptiness

Sometimes I think of my life in terms of chapters. The chapters always begin and end in August or so. The titles might be something like this:

1- 1979-1984: Prehistory
2- 1984-1988: Bluebell and Edahow
3- 1988-1991: Arabian and Gate City
4- 1991-1994: Taylorview
5- 1994-1997: The Dark Age
6- 1997-1998: Robinson 122
7- 1998-1999: The Nadir
8- 1999-2003: Slow Recovery
9- 2003-2004: Limbo
10- 2004-2007: Turning Japanese

This blog seems to have started near the beginning of Chapter 8. It would seem we're starting Chapter 11 now. That sounds ominous. I am a little nervous about what I'm getting myself into…

So, I'm back in Vegas. I finished reading the last Harry Potter book last night around 4 a.m. That book is a real treasure. I am immensely grateful that it was written. All the other Harry Potter books are but a prelude to the last book, which, conversely, would not be anywhere near as powerful if not for the foundation it's built upon. I love Harry Potter, truly and deeply. I have a feeling that I will keep coming back to it for the rest of my life.

I feel strangely empty now that I've finished it, though. But that may just be the reverse culture shock et al. setting in. I think Harry was distracting me from thinking about it.

We went to a sushi restaurant last night. I probably wouldn't have gone at all, but relatives were in town. It made me feel funny. The menu was filled with all kinds of crazy concoctions that would never be served at any self-respecting sushi place in Japan. It made me feel a little uncomfortable, especially since I knew that that kind of stuff is completely normal in the US, that it used to be completely normal to me, and that I really don't want to be that guy who starts every sentence with "Well, in Japan…" The realization that American sushi is to Japanese sushi what Japanese pizza is to American pizza made me feel a little better, though.

And I still like California rolls and broccoli tempura, two "Japanese" foods that I've never seen in Japan.

We saw Stardust. They made a lot changes in plotting and a few in characterization, but I really liked it, all the same. For many years there was a question mark by the name "Claire Danes" in my book (which question mark was darkened a great deal by Terminator 3, which sucked), but this movie erased it. I'm feeling a little capricious this evening though, and so I don't think I'll bother to give it a star rating right now. Nor shall I bother to rate the other movies I've seen lately.

WTF loves Night at the Museum with a burning passion. She's one of those people who maintains absolute indifference to almost everything so that she can invest all her stores of obsession into a few select channels. It's charming in its way, I suppose, though a little annoying when we go to the video store or the movie theatre and she's utterly uninterested in everything I want to see. She'll be arriving soon, very soon…

Is she my star?

To sum up- My life in chapters. Harry Potter good. American sushi weird. Something about movies.

emptiness is form,

greyarea

P.S. My ten-year high school reunion was this summer. I didn't go. I am too cool for high school, you see. (Or maybe I was just in a different hemisphere at the time.) Almost everyone seems to be married.

Diaryland