It’s my good friend Pallas the Pink-Haired Girl’s aka the Diner Siren’s birthday . . . and so of course I feel compelled to create yet another honorific birthday post for her. What is this website good for if not that . . . ? There are so many good pictures from our long friendship, but I will do my best to narrow it down to like 20 (lol)~

BEHOLD:

Some of these are from summer 2019, which I spent with Pallas. That was one of the best summers of my life and Pallas was a big part of that. I remember in late July, nearly seven years ago now, I drove ten hours up I-5 to stay with her and her parents in Washington, just over the Oregon border and about twenty minutes from Portland. They were so kind and generous. During the day, Pallas and I would usually head into Portland . . . we went to the rose garden, saw a few movies, sat in some parks drinking our little iced coffees, chilled at the Elvis Room (RIP), and even drove all the way up to Kalama, Washington to visit the Twilight high school (lol).

At night, back at Pallas’ fortified compound, we’d hang out in the Finnish-style sauna in her basement (???), try on her fur coats, and play with her cat Bubb. The night before I had to drive back home to Oakland, we went up on her roof deck and lay down on a pile of blankets to look at the stars, and to watch out for the shooting kind, of which we saw many. I remember her falling asleep with her head on my chest as I held her. It was so sweet . . . I’m going to cry thinking about this!

Now that I think about it, I believe that’s the last time I dated someone in that straightforward old-school way that could only exist before the pandemic. By which I mean, the math of the thing was very simple:

“Pallas, I like you.”

“Ryan, I like you too.”

“Do you wanna date . . . ?”

“Yeah!”

I love it . . . I miss it!

RECENTLY . . .

Pallas remembered our Cartoon Counterparts from long ago, in a pre-dark mode world . . .

FINALLY . . .

Pallas, I love you. Thank you for keeping me around all these years. For God’s sake, happy birthday. I’ll see you again soon . . . in the City of Angels.

:,)

three years ago today

Wow! I didn’t know I could share my Criterion . . . collection. I feel like a guy in his 30s sharing this, but whatever: here it is.

I got some good stuff in there. Look on my collection, ye Mighty, and rejoice:

Anyway . . .

I feel like I need to post this once a year . . .

What does a scanner see? he asked himself. I mean, really see? Into the head? Down into the heart? Does a passive infrared scanner like they used to use or a cube-type holo-scanner like they use these days, the latest thing, see into me—into us—clearly or darkly? I hope it does, he thought, see clearly, because I can’t any longer these days see into myself. I see only murk. Murk outside; murk inside. I hope, for everyone’s sake, the scanners do better. Because, he thought, if the scanner sees only darkly, the way I myself do, then we are cursed, cursed again and like we have been continually, and we’ll wind up dead this way, knowing very little and getting that little fragment wrong too.

Western Europe is in big trouble for the next few days on account of the heatwave . . . Young Gego and I are hiding out in my high tower here in Berlin, which is now in Submarine Mode. I’ve drawn two layers of blackout curtains over all the windows and the fan is on high blast. Gego, who is a bit of a deadbeat, can usually be found in front of it . . . and despite permanently wearing a fur coat, he seems relatively unbothered. But today was just the practice round. The main event is this weekend. Will we survive . . . ? Of course we will. Gego and I are unkillable. Or didn’t you know?

yes

Julia called me today. I was still in bed with the curtains closed, behind which Gego was snoring loudly. Outside, the world was burning.

She said, of my good friend and former intern Elina the Estonian Girl, whom I had brought to her birthday party last Saturday: “Elina is cool. I understand now why you’re friends. You two talk and joke around the same way. She bullies you but in a loving way. And she’s not fake or pretentious.”

All of this is true. Julia is always very perceptive in that way. I’m glad these two important people in my life finally met.

I reckon I just wanted to once again pay tribute to my friend and surrogate little sister. Elina has always been a good and loyal friend to me. She is truly unique. And despite our substantial age gap, we understand one another. As she is Estonian, she is naturally adverse to sentimentality and vulnerability. They hate that stuff! I could never say these things to her in person. But as I am a sentimental and vulnerable American expatriate, and an embarrassing fool also, I will say here publicly that I love Elina and am lucky to know her. She can bully me anytime, which she absolutely does. It is an honor.

(I took these on her birthday last year. We spent all day together. It was a cute day!)