“Fabricats Varsity Cross Country” (which was just Lukas and me today) went running. When we got to the bug-field where we do the other exercises I did extra lunges because a fractured scapula prevents push ups.

Walking back, we erupted into goofy dance moves when DIESEL DUDES came on my phone. Storm clouds gathered and it started pouring. We watched rain travel along the river as the storm hit.

Later Alexis, Lukas, and I went to Django for exquisite bread from the former-architect baker, who is also an angel. Also cheap local organic wine, and vegetables. Biking on cobblestone in post-storm weather we got a fancy gelato.

The sunlit afternoon apartment was too hot once again and I gave Alexis and Jonas haircuts + some of the wine “senza sulfiti”

They both left (with good haircuts) and I sauteed vegetables to put on the good bread, worked on music, and got bitten by mosquitos until it was time to go to sleep.


It is very hot and I alone witness the moment of death for many small flies who line the bottom of the computer screen.

I laughed to myself about how much alcohol I consumed. When you bring only a fiver to the bar to keep from over drinking and overspending that does not take into account that everyone else is gonna wanna get you wasted anyway.

Never Have I Ever is such a transparent game, and anyone suggesting that that game be played is also transparent. “Hello group, just wanted to talk about sex and drugs in this format that permits such conversation.” “Hello other bodies will anyone touch mine tonight?”

Anyway, I am an open-blog but also think there is value to secrecy. Even if secrets are told involuntarily through our heart rates etc. 

Today I: cleaned the kitchen, made spaghetti and vegetables, journaled, feel terrible, took a nap, woke up to Alexis coming home, went out for a spritz with Alexis/Jonas/Lukas, worked on my noise track, and went to sleep.


Goofy giddy like dancing on the roof at sunrise to a rotating DJ set of whoever’s phone isn’t out of battery, and everyone’s sweaty bodies hugging each other.

Lukas and I had been circling everyone with our bikes yelling: “TEAM SHARKS! TEAM SHARKS!” Doing wheelies and racing like very smart and cool interaction designers.

Earlier in the day:

  • Made a spreadsheet of possible travel plans for August with Kristen.
  • Akanksha and I laughed loudly and biked slowly from Mensa. It was a mensa miracle day. There were beans, peas, and a cous cous with mixed vegetables. “Sit down with a cold beer and write to anyone who might be able to help you with grad school funding” said Akanksha. “Don’t delay.”
  • Dani put on my desk what I assumed what a rejection letter from the Finnish grant. The letter was all in Finnish. I walked through the grass and overbearing sun to Antti’s studio where this was confirmed. We looked through the government’s job search engine and Antti said “You could work at Tacobell.”
  • Wrote every message I could think of, trying to craft an overlapping set of options for my future.
  • Biking back, getting dishwasher tablets and vodka. In the group chat (010101010101010) the Celtic bar was presented as the option. I laughed at the decorative pans and American pop music videos. We all made fun of Americans.
  • A bunch of people were doing a marathon. Lukas and I went swiftly through the finish line, yelling and laughing. We literally amplify each other.
  • The bar on the wall. The Spanish guy brought chips thanks to the Spanish girls at our table (and the Spanish language).
  • The two nordics said we had to party all night and wear flower crowns and find a place to have a bonfire, but Jonas left early. Jenny left after 2 pitchuers of Sprtiz Aperol.
  • The rest of us played “Never Have I Ever.” I have done it all. JK, I’ve never been to the movies.


I can feel the applause in my cup.

Little Spanish fans moving ambient smoke in a field of summer armpits.

Mosh pit with a homemade-sling and Yves Tumor. I know I’m an idiot. I know it’s worth it.

Akanksha and I are forever designated party-spirits but we also do sitting on the beach and going home “early.”

A couple days ago I was saying how I am my father’s child in a lot of essential ways.

Waiting for the metro, I found out my dad has a broken rib and a punctured lung. I’m really glad he’s alive.


Also worth noting: since I’m in Spain I’ve been seeing a lot of bull imagery. Recently I read an article where neuroscientist David Eagleman was saying that one can quantify how people’s responses toward animals differs across culture (e.g.. In India people have a more emotional response to cows).

Yesterday I was thinking about this in relation to Bull fighting (with the nice symbol of Arca’s torn white matador jacket -also an example Nicolas gave me of a sacrificial bull festival in Greece), and how my dad once thought about getting a tattoo of Ferdinand (the bull from a children’s book who sat in the middle of the ring to smell flowers and wouldn’t fight). My dad was injured herding cattle, so good thing he’s strong like a bull?


Adding this nectarine to my list of things that are perfect.”

Monica called me to her office to ask why I was here, when my doctor’s note says I should be resting for 20 days. I told her I couldn’t read Italian. She said I should be wearing different shoes and a sling, to bring my original receipts from the hospital tomorrow. I said I would be in Barcelona, she gave me an incredulous mom-look.

“I have to go to Sonar”

“Ah, you must be going with Akanksha. You two are good friends aren’t you? Always making trouble”

XX Fabricat

It was a sunny day and I felt the tragedy of summer. Then I saw it in the form of a beautiful black cat, dead in a puddle of fresh blood on a residential street. A stranger was going the opposite direction on their bike. We made sad, serious eye-contact.

Along with being hot, the air at Fabrica was heavy, at least among those who had seen the cat. People mentioned it all day. Of course it was funny for me to see these same people eating meat at Mensa. But I understand systematic brutalization is different from a random accident, and people construct/internalize hierarchies of animals on a deep level. I also understand cats as friends and they are high on the chain for me.

When I was a fresh Fabricante there were tiny kittens by the Portineria and we have watched them grow into young adult cats over the past months. There are a few new kittens now that Graziano (guard) pointed out to Hon, Alexis, and me one day.

Jonas and I were walking at night with gelato and the trials, I was explaining how my new style of using only one arm is not only to look cool, but also heal my wing. Deniel was also hit by a car recently. He biked by, saw Jonas, then stopped to walk home with him.

Now that I’m closer to the dead cat than the kittens in Fabricat-years, my relationship with trials is less one of empathetic anxiety for them, but friendly curiosity, I guess. Something like that. Also the one from Seoul, Jang, was super cute and told me I looked like a model. In retrospect I should have tried to steal 1 kiss.

But oh! For those summer nights!


I had the rest of my Alpro brand soya yogurt with 2 dates and some hemp seeds, after running by the river until I saw a cat. (That’s what always determines the length of my morning run).

Bike-dad pumped up Hell-Bat and I rode to Fabrica one-armed with one bottle of prosecco in my bag (Jonas had the other two) (for our Speak Up Monday, which we did over G-Chat, in an endless feedback loop, which was funny).

In the afternoon Alberto said he wanted the interaction designers to make him a system of buttons for his needs “I want George Clooney to deliver my espresso from a gold copter.” It was a problem that I thought that was so funny because it hurts a lot to laugh.

I have 1990’s cool blue and black tunnel-vision animations whenever I close my eyes and it hurts static in the center of my headache. I have drank a lot of water today.


I often have a feeling that everything will end suddenly. I feel powerful “whatever” about it. Just something. Ping pong and paper.  We already put it there.

I don’t feel like I’m one of them, who makes things bad. I don’t think my voice is big enough to make things especially good.

It’s just a black rock, as a metaphor, in a place where no one can see, and that’s how I feel about it.

But focus on the water, and not the rock. The water is more powerful than the rock.

And have a fun time swimming! Whatever! Put a cocacola in your vino and pour it on the rock like: “bad medicine.”

“Hey little avatar, you are looking hot in your jacket, why don’t you take it off?”

No me not me, no me not me, I am always wearing a jacket, I am always moving to Finland. All the NBs in the club put your hands up! (But don’t take your jackets off) (pass out into my arms sweet things)

^So that’s how I was feeling^


Roberta drove me to the hospital. I ran into Carlo there, who was helping his refugee friend, I don’t remember where he was from. Carlo bought us all brioche and told me about how Benetton actively oppresses the Mapache in Patagonia.

I have a hot new fractured scapula. Doctor said not to use my right arm for 20 days and “ciao” (x20), then held my hands and kissed both my cheeks. Highly recommended experience. Worth the 8 hour wait. Time to do what has always BEEN THE DREAM and get buff in one arm. #summerstyle