A hesitant first foray into cementing

my roommate announced that the grill has to go. i cleaned it, kind of, and hid it under the living table. she announced that if she can find it, she will throw it out. i got back home, expecting the worst, but it's still hidden there, and she's asleep.

earlier, she gave me Lettres a Anne, which is easily the best white valentines present i have ever recieved, but also compels me to buy her something equally expensive (dear lzyk; you have ot take the price tag off of gifts), or else. It won't be as easy for me, as she isn't a fan of Mitterand.

My bags of cement came, delivered to the all marble and donald trump fake gold lobby of my appartment building. The guard is my favorite old man in taiwan, but it took some time for us to work out that i was trying to pick up sacks of cement from behind the counter. in the end, he gaveu p trying to understand why foreigners do the things they do, and i put the box of cement on the skateboard and took it to the bridge. it was pretty fun time; the tienmu homies were there, presumably driven south by the constant rain, and a scattering of others were too. younguns got creative and stacked rails upon rails and *********** them until lights out. I was responsible and waited to drink beer until lights out. A japanese guy introduced himself and we shared some yellow beers. he told me wants to quite smoking, and i had to say, yeah, it's fucking hard to do. He knows k, who showed up with a couple of other guys and eventually they left for takoyaki (there is a legendary skater-owned spot that I still havent been to yet, apparently around linsen; now i am formally obligated to visit).

then i tried cementing. it was harder than i remembered (or maybe i just forgot that i sucked at it 20 years ago). part of the problem is that taiwan's mailorder cement is like grey diahhrea. mostly, it's that i just dont know what to do. i did some zen scraping and learned the hard way, for 90 minutes or so. as i finished, a couple of dudes showed up who were learning to ******. They skated until after I left. Pure.

i went home swinging a red plastic pail with a couple of left over beers and a trowel in it. if interior painting is like trying to paint with the least artistic expression possible, then cementing a spot is like trying to do architecture in the least noticiable way possible. it's really expensive here, $500 to just recoat the top of a manny pad. i feel pretty damn addicted.