grasshopperist

Went through the local section today to see who has profiles in Bellingham, WA. Not sure exactly why I went through - I can't think of anyone offhand who seems to subscribe to the right sort of neophiliac kickassery. Which is not to say someone wouldn't have popped up. And of course it would have been a white lie to suggest that I wasn't going through to find anyone who'd recognize me.

Didn't find anyone with a blog updated less than a year ago. Of course, these profiles still exist, which means that someone's credit card is getting charged for them. But that could mean any number of things. It probably doesn't mean that any of these people are reading my blog. And it certainly doesn't mean that they're keeping up in the forums. Which means that I guess I am the sole representation of this strangely pubescent city.

I went back to the place I got my start DJing - this little house that threw slightly trashy, very comraderic parties (shut up, it's totally a word). It's been closed down for years. It's a very scary squat now, with the door wide open and a car full of human evidence in the yard. I don't know whether the car works. The house sure doesn't - it never did.

I suppose this means that a part of my past has now decayed into mystery. Add a tally to the list of things making me feel old this season.