i am tired, i am true of heart
Lyse and I went to San Francisco's Musée Mécanique yesterday. Read all about it. I don't apologize about paying for the opium den, or rather causing it to be paid for; the little moving opium-ingesting figures were kind of creepy, if you squinted hard.
Spent the night in transit, in the successive interiors of airplanes and airports; I alternately slept and read the Dave Eggers book, finally. It's good, yes, but I wonder. The ironic bits intrigued me and made me laugh while I was reading them, but after finishing the book and being genuinely moved by the serious parts, I'm no longer sure whether the ironic bits are in the book's best interest. I'll have to think about this.
I just spilled coffee on my keyboard. Fuck fuck fuck. I'm now typing on a keyboard borrowed from Vu, which is all right except that the purpose of having a laptop is kind of defeated if you can't type j, k, l, backspace, delete, or carriage return without an external keyboard. Maybe it'll dry out overnight or something.
