Ryan's Journal

"My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?" — David Mitchell

Icebergs and Planes

Posted from Studio City, California at 11:15 am, October 22nd, 2005

Here’s a big wrap-up from the last couple of weeks:

Last weekend I flew home, having negotiated with the boss for a day off on Monday (the incident with the painters and a Friday night shift that lasted until 3:15 in the morning were solid negotiating points for me). Nadia’s birthday wish was that I attend her party and “not be able to drive home”, and I happily obliged. The Bay Bridge closed for repairs at 1:00 AM, so sadly the night ended a bit earlier than I would have liked, but it was a fun evening and Aaron managed to get me, Chi, and my rented Ford Escape home without incident. Saturday and Sunday weren’t particularly noteworthy with the exception of the best dinner ever at Chow, some Balderdash stupidity (“…about a French squid and his companion, a whale…”), and the lamentations of the third member of the buddy triad, re-dubbed “the Dot” for his missing-in-action hijinks.

I flew out under perfect skies on Monday afternoon, only to hear a warning from the captain halfway to LA that everyone should “hold on” as we steered through storms and watched lightning blaze just outside of the plane’s windows. After landing a rainstorm of biblical proportions greeted me, apparently brought here by an unknowing rain god who was visiting from New York. The evening out was highlighted by Audrey’s apt description of someone who doesn’t own a car in LA (“*censored*”) and Josh’s confirmation that my original guess at the definition of “agro” wasn’t a sign of brain damage.

After navigating through downtown amidst streets closed due a Mission Impossible 3 shooting I again managed to meet up with Josh on Wednesday, and along with Audrey and a rotating cast of music industry folks we spent far too long at the Rainbow. I stumbled home around 2:00, making for an interesting day at work six hours later. Last night’s excitement was a dinner-and-a-movie showing of Lemony Snicket’s, during which I planned to refrain from drinking and failed miserably.

And because it is completely unrelated to anything mentioned above, here’s a nice iceberg picture:


Iceberg near Paulet Island in January 2004.

7 responses to “Icebergs and Planes”

    1. thank you sir. i soooo very much wanted to record the quote for posterity, but you know, like, my mom reads this stuff, and she still gets mad if i say “fart” when i come home to visit.

        1. it’s a catch-22 that is only gonna be compounded by the fact that i wrote “fart” in a reply. maybe i can send her a copy of the “aristocrats” prior to my next visit, in which case quoting audrey definitely won’t be our main topic of conversation.

          1. the key is this: does your mom know to click on the comments link? if she does, you’re f*cked. (heh, sorry. hi, holliday’s mom. i’m one of the bad kids.)

          2. i actually felt bad about that after i wrote it, so i, you know, put in the star. we can all go cuss on my website for punishment, if you want.

          3. i like the self-censorship, it shows you care. i’ll do my utmost to lower the level of class on this site (if that’s possible) and drop in some profanity from time-to-time to see how ma holliday reacts. i’ll have to start out slow though with words like “butt” and “poop” and see how things go. yeah, i’m a rebel.

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