(12:43 am)
Soundtrack to Cowboy Bebop: first-rate.
I've been thinking about albums that came out this year. And about ones that I heard for the first time this year. Among other things.
You need to let go of things to know if they are actually real.
There's that, and there's being able to fly, as well. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon! Bamboo fight scene.
Oh, yeah, and the house has finally fallen. Someone here has a cell phone. Heh.
Dammit. Booze: totally not helping here.
Neither does Kitty making her need to be loved known (that is, crawling all over the keyboard).
GODDAMMIT.
Oh well. I've been less lucid, even sober.
I'm sure.
Anil and I went shopping after leaving work today.
I love being in a grocery store with wine and beer like I love few other things in this world.
I watched "All in the Family" compulsively when I was away from home. It's not as good as "Law and Order". but still.
Man, I dig "Law and Order".
I have too much free time.
Like, I looked up "apathetic" to find synonyms. I guess I'm not feeling apathetic, then. I'm not sure what angry, indifferent, disgusted at myself, and vaguely despondant is, in one word. Let me know if you do.
(3:08pm)
That's really irritating.
It's like, what's the fucking point? I know how it's going to turn out, and the formalities are stupid and old. Not bothering is sounding like an increasingly appealing idea. Or something.
(noon)
Goddammit.
That was so wrong. I'm damaged, bad at best.
DAMMIT. DAMMIT. DAMMIT.
I would like to note I doubt this will actually happen, but for some reason, I feel like it today. I don't want to look at anyone or have anyone look at me.
Ok, so it's not just today. But still.
I'm not sure why it was such a bad dream. It probably has something to do with the fact that the whole thing was a bunch of people telling me everything I thought and was doing was wrong, and trying to make me see things their way, without question.
Deduce from this what you will.
Today, I was remembering that when I was a kid, I thought I'd get used to cold weather, or that, actually, it would seem magically less cold when I got older.
Oh, well, another illusion gone. Heh.
Thirteen ways of looking at my trip to Seattle.
I am thinking many things.
Also, that Haujobb song is still running through my head. This is not a bad thing.
Currently, I'm trying to find out how to get to a concert tonight. Apparently, I can CALL THE BUS PEOPLE and they will TELL ME HOW TO GET THERE. I can't WAIT to try this.
I wanted to buy a ... well, not a suitcase, and not a duffel bag, but a shoulder bag type big-enough-for-a-week's-clothing bag. The foray last night was unsuccessful. Oh well. I jammed everything back into the bag I brought and into a plastic bag.
I was thinking yesterday, or maybe earlier this morning about cell phones. I remember when I knew only one person who had one. Huh.
I have also been thinking about living, and living in two places, living mostly away from your stuff.
The two are even related.
No matter if it really happened!
Aside from that, I have a few other things I'm thinking.
(earlier)
These days, I'm really missing Solitaire Till Dawn. I have to say.
Damn.
Also, I don't think it's coincidence that my car broke down one week after I started working in Virginia.
Judy had a bunch of LPs that her folks didn't want. Nobody, but nobody, should be as excited as I was to get a B. J. Thomas album that had both "Raindrops are Falling on my Head" AND "Suspicious Minds". But there you are.
Plus, I now have a somewhat vast array of Herb Albert and his Tiajuana Brass on vinyl. OLE!
At first, it seemed like the most appealing option; it was pretty nice weather-wise last night, and exercise seemed like a good idea.
Anyway, as I remembered at some point on the walk home, walking isn't actually any good for either clearing my head, or for productive thought.
Oh, well.
Or, maybe I mean, not yet thoroughly embarassing.
Hm.
In other news, I bought a coffee table the other day. I swear. Scary.
I was sitting at the DMV on Friday, and bought a paper to read while I waited. There was a little story about a letter the salvage team found on one of the sailors, from the sailor to his wife of three months. Argh. I nearly cried before I remembered I'm a heartless, unfeeling well of horribleness.
But it was close for a while there.
(3 pm)
Yeah. Stuff.
I need to get more Raymond Chandler novels.
I spend a lot of time looking off sideways at nothing.
These two things have nothing to do with one another.
Neither do these three things.
And here, we come back to the irony part.
I am so being intentionally abstruse. Don't even worry about it.
Also, oh my god, can I just tell you how much MORE eurotrash I look in an
honest-to-god turtleneck?
I think I might cry. But...it's so warm and comfortable!
That occurred to me today. There are some differences between then and now:
That's about it. Or, at least, new movies off the top of my head.
I'm actually thinking there are more, but I can't remember them at the moment.
I smoked an unfiltered cigarette last night. It was interesting. That is the most easily classifiable thing, and the one that needs the least explaining and stuff, so I'll leave it at that. Also, it's probably the only thing actually interesting. That's how drunken carousing goes. Often, anyway.
Mmmmmyeah. Typical. Heh.
(morning)
Feeling vaguely like the ground's dropped out from under you for no
discernable reason is kind of disorienting, even if it only happens
briefly. Of course, it could just be delayed reaction.
There's also this picture of me looking like eurotrash. Touch my monkey.
(Actually, it's not a bad picture, especially given it's a profile shot. Given that my profile always strikes me as looking like something that someone who was not familiar with how profiles should look would draw a profile. Anyway. I admit to self-consciousness about some things. Really.)
GO!
Also, I refuse to end three days in a row with 'dang'.
Anyway. There are a lot of things I'm thinking about. I need to find out more about Seattle. Among other things. I also need to take advantage of the computer Trey said I can use, and stuff. Maybe I'll do that tonight. Since I'm not sure where some of his install disks are (the computer needs an OS, oops). Also, what I will not be using is the trackball he has for the computer. I'm so bad with them.
If I were more motivated, I'd make a list of things I need to do. Right now, I'm going to write it off as just sickness-induced lethargy, since making lists is usually comforting, in a way.
Ah, hell.
The shampoo and stuff I used this morning is not pleasing me. I used to really like it. Dang.
It was a few years ago when I realized I was fretting way too much about it, and that it was just part of the definition, there was nothing more to understand.
Trust me when I say this relates to my life this week.
I woke up at 5 am this morning.
Dayum.
Then, since I was walking around the kitchen while I was on the phone to him, I stepped in my sock feet in the water Runty is always spilling out of the cats' waterdish. Augh.
"Guess it hasn't changed yet," he said.
Hee hee.
Gang of Four. I'm falling in love all over again.
The Indian smiles he thinks that the cowboy is his friend. The cowboy smiles, he is glad the Indian is fooled.
Finally, there is a dangerous amount of coffee in Seattle.
Ok. Not finally. Sometimes, when I think of Todd, I think how he picked up that crafty trick of getting a gift and then hiding in among stuff so you'd find it later. I have no point. Except that's one of the best tricks. Much better than that penny behind the ear crap. Trick in the surpised and pleasant way. Anyway.
I paid outrageous amounts for a t-shirt and a cd. Sigh. Oh well.
And, like most of my high school dreams which have come true, it was only ok, but had some really brilliant moments. Which is good enough.
I've definately been pretty stunned in recent history. I have to say.
Goodly and badly. Bleh. And, to add to the surreality, I'm flying to Seattle on Sunday. Golly.
That first line is pretty flippant, but maybe what I'm trying to say is
the ambiguity is disturbing, and what I'm currently fretting about is not
doing what I should've done, and I'm not sure why I didn't, because it
seemed pretty clear-cut, and I'm hoping I didn't screw anything up because
of it. Though. I guess if I did, that's that, really. Dang. That would
make me sad.
Because I'm getting over the feeling bad for something scummy I did,
partially becauase I thought I had that all wrapped up with all
concerned. ANYWAY.
(1 pm)
So I've been thinking about what I've been thinking about recently.
And I'm not sure what I think. I am kind of disappointed in myself, I
think. About some things, anyway. And sort of not.
I've come to no solid conclusion, and that's a little unsettling. Or something.
D.A.N.G.
Also, since I'm listening to the Barenaked Ladies' Gordon, I'm thinking there's something disarming about the name Enid.
Also, from reading through old notebooks, I feel weird.
But that's prolly just because I'm drukn. Right. Yeah.
And if there's someone you can do without, then do so!
And that typo was on purpose. Dammit.
I'm two years ago. Or something.
I am so dum.
Sometimes. Heh.
Also, I know it's like a warning sign of alcoholism or something, but there's something about drinking alone that feels really good.
At some point, I actually woke up enough to realize it was in fact my alarm clock going off, and no paging was involved.
Oh, the treacherous modern age!
That doesn't mean what it seems to. IT'S AN OBSERVATION OF TWO TOTALLY SEPARATE PHENOMENA. I MEAN IT.
I am currently listening to Black Love, which is probably why I
thought of it. When I got it, it was kind of appropriate. Heh. I went out
and got it with someone I was kind of not close friends with, but who for
some reason wanted to hang out with me over spring break, which I was
spending kind of illicitly at Judy's room in the honors hall. "Illicitly"
only in the sense that I shouldn't have been there, not that anything
further illicit was going on. I was mostly staying there so I could work
my crappy job at an oncampus office without actually having to spend all
of the money I was making on gas and tolls.
Anyway, so the Afghan Whigs album came out, and I hitched a ride up to
Best Buy with him to get it. He didn't think much of it. He did like
Gentlemen. "Is this the same band?" Heh.
Anyway, as usual, I have no point.
Though I am thinking that perception is a very funny thing.
Anyway. now that I'd looked at it, really, unfortunately, looked, something had to be done.
So the top came off. This, clearly, would not be enough.
What I needed now was compressed air.
It was a revelation. Two years of keyboard gunk cleaned out, or at least, shoved farther under the keys, I put the frame back together.
I think it's time to work on my car.
Also, my teeth hurt. I was grinding while trying to get to sleep last night. It was too hot and humid. So now I'm really pretty tired.
And driving is almost effortless, but still fun, and I'm thinking how good driving is, tonight, on this road.
Then the exit comes up for 495 toward Silver Spring. Then we're on the Beltway.
And I thought it was just me who found it abrupt, but even Josh commented.
Anyway. That was what I did for a few hours, or for 30 minutes, tonight.
And the word, "hosebeast". I'm not sure why. It's kind of gross, image-wise, but sounds funny.
It's very unsettling to not be sure what is the best thing to do. Dang.
Home is where i want to be
pick me up and turn me round
i feel numb, born with a weak heart
(so i) guess i must be having fun
the less we say about it the better
make it up as we go along
feet on the ground
head in the sky
it's ok, i know nothing's wrong
i've got plenty of time
you've got light in your eyes
and you're standing here beside me
and i love the passing of time
never for money
always for love
cover up and say goodnight
home is where i want to be
but i guess I'm already there
i come home, she lifted up her wings
guess this must be the place
i can't tell one from another
did i find you or did you find me?
there was a time
before i was born
if someone asks, this is where i'll be...where i'll be
we drift in and out
sing into my mouth
out of all those kinds of people
you've got a face with a view
i'm just an animal, looking for a home
share the same space for a minute or two
and you love me till my heart stops
love me till i'm dead
eyes that light up, eyes look through you
cover up the blank spots
hit me on the head
(9:40 pm)
Brown again.
Everything twice, I tell you.
Well, in some cases, I can hope. In others, I know. Heh.
(10:20 am)
What today could be, for starters, is about half as humid as it is.
I'll stop with starters.
Maybe all that coffee was a bad idea. Dang.
(9:47 am)
I'm pretty tired.
After sitting for a few minutes trying to think of something interesting, it's pretty apparent I have nothing more to say just now. Heh.
Though I'm glad Judy found someone who's interested in moving, to all places, Rosedale. Good golly.
At least it's a Beretta.
I defy you to name something else good that's come out of Rhode Island.
Hee hee.
Quite curious.
And now I will have some time off, while I go up to Vermont, then Canada (Ottowa, then Montreal), then New York (to see Einsturzende Neubauten!). Yay vacation in the red bomb!
Only when I found total trash was it irritating, like empty boxes that once held cheap-ass necklaces or something. I mean, what the hell?
I've given up trying to fathom it. At least, coming up with any explanation beyond what I already have.
Soooooooo fired.
It was also pathetic how semi-theraputic it was to throw away shit that keeps getting hauled around because of some supposed sentimental value. While I've been a fundamentally angry person for a while, it's disturbing how angry I got at random helpless shit lying around our basement. Well. I guess not really. Because even if I got angry right at my father, he'd turn it right back at the shit I ended up smashing into a trash can today, or the past, which is all unchangable. When I say it's impossible to get mad at him, I just mean that it's impossible for him to realize you're angry at him, or to have any kind of constructive argument. Or to affect any change. Anyway. I only got through like two boxes of crap before I was totally worn out. And there's way too much trash sitting outside, anyway, at this point, at my folks' old place.
You practically have to beat me to get me to tell you something I don't want to tell you. Even if both parties involved know what I mean to or should be saying. I'm a goddam open book compared to when I lived in that house. When I didn't even know I wanted to say anything. Or, really, when it was pointless to say anything. Blah, blah, blah.
The things people tell themselves, eh?
Plus, if you ever feel the need to atone for bad bad things you did ten years ago, keep it to your own fucking self. Salve your conscience on your own time. Ok, I don't mean that in every case, but, really, people. Use good sense. If it's over, it's over, and don't drag things back up with those who are shut of it. That's what I mean by on your own time. You don't have to make a new covenant every time you breech the terms of one you made after you fucked up. It's from this point forward, folks.
I mean, fuck. I always assumed she was sorry.
It's a metaphor!
Not really really weird, just...pleasantly surprising. Easy interaction with everyone I ran into. Plus, Judy got me some kick-ass glasses (rocks glasses, one labelled "arsenic", and another labelled "hemlock").
On an entirely different note, I've been all twitchy all day, restless and twitchy. Now I'm twitchy, ache-y, and tired. I so need to get more regular exercise.
Today was kind of weird at work. At least I wasn't the only punchy one today.
I guess it wasn't much of a different note, after all.
I am experiencing mild and quiet inner turmoil. Well, that's too dramtic a word. It's an improvement. Heh.
However, I have noticed that since I don't have a CD player, I am less angry or dissatisfied first thing at work. Why? Hm. Now, what did I listen to on the way to work?
Sleater-Kinney, Gang of Four, Aimee Mann. At least, those are what I remember.
So I guess it's no mystery. Heh.
Also, I'd like to know why I live with what surely must be the three most graceless cats in the world. I mean, really.
I am currently compulsively listening to this song ("the red door"), and the album it's from ("the last match", the aislers set).
It's very good. It's only 35 minutes long, but seems like a week. Or two minutes. In a good way.
I now have a haircut I am very pleased with.
ALL HAIL ANN MARIE!
She rocks as hard as many things which rock with power. Like The Bangs, or tiny china bowls which each have a picture of a tiny, happy crab at the bottom. Yeah, baby, yeah!
The dresser is very, very cool. it has a cubby!
(3:40 am)
So, like, rule number one: if you ever find yourself saying or thinking,
"Has anyone else ever...", the answer is yes. I don't much care what the
question is.
The only reason I mention this is because I actually found myself thinking this earlier (like 2 hours ago, not that it matters). How bizarre.
The bizarre part being that I didn't cut myself off before I got to the part beyond where I normally cut myself off (see above; where the ellipsis is). It was pretty odd.
I blame lack of sleep, and lazy thinking.
Doomed, I tell you.
On another note, it looks like both of the Hausler girls are looking to get out of sweet, sweet Maryland. Heh.
Alternatively, I could get Ann Marie to do it, since she always does a good job.
Plus, all hail beer!
On an entirely different note, I've wasted almost as much time being angry
as I have being single.
If you can find a pipe to smoke that in, let me know.
I'm busy trying to either think or drink or do both at the same time. Woohoo!
Though, I mean, I don't really mean wasted time. Being angry feels pretty fucking good sometimes.
I ALSO have the cold from hell at the moment. Ugh.
In fact, I wish I had one of the cds here now. Because this is going to be a long day.
I can't remember which band I like sings that song. But I agree.
Not my house so much as like the feeling I had today of being two years displaced. Damn.
Maybe I am in actuallity a bad '80's song.
Sundays at work suck.
They had someone I like play there live tonight, we got a table practically up this person's nose, they had good beer, and afterward, they played good music (a little loud, though). They played Radiohead's OK Computer, exclusively good Rolling Stones songs (which, of course, meant like 3 songs), a lot of The Who, and something which sounded a whole lot like The Jam, but very well may have been The Buzzcocks. By that time, I'd had plenty of tasty beer, so I wasn't sure. PLUS!!! the bartender made a clover on the top of the Guiness I had, which gives her a big old thumbs up.
I TOTALLY wish this place was in Wheaton instead of Clarendon/Rosslyn.
However, I already knew I liked Rosslyn, so I'm not feeling too dirty
about liking this place, since it's like 6 blocks from the ex-Bardo.
Several times while I was waiting to check my bag, there was an announcement for someone to meet her party here or there; the person either was someone with the same name as, or in fact was, someone I knew. It was kind of dreamlike, hearing an announcement for someone I knew at the airport.
Anyway, back to linear narrative. I got on the plane. I took a window seat. We took off. It was as exciting as every other time I've been on a plane. I dozed, waking up when my head hit the wall. They announced landing. I apparently dozed off again, and the next thing I knew, it seemed like something was in the process of going horribly, terribly wrong, and I started to get scared. Then. I realized we had just landed.
I met my friend at baggage claim; he dropped me off at his apartment and left me to sleep. Which I did. I showered in yet another typical New England messed-up shower (from my sample size of like 2, I'm convinced that all showers in New England have 2 settings: warm and no pressure, or scalding and slightly more than a trickle. The subltety with which you have to manipulate the controls to get the first, which is unsatisfactory, and the second, which is agonizing, is too much for me to deal with at the time of day when I'm showering. Which is to say, about 15 minutes after I've gotten out of whatever sleeping place I'm in, which is about 45 minutes before I'm actually awake. Generally.).
So then, a bit after that, some boring stuff happened that I only vaguely remember.
My friend came to pick me up; he got a group of people together; we had dinner. The Chinese restaurant was apparently entirely made up of a smoking section, which was very odd. I did not smoke.
We then were dropped off at the place (more or less) where we were going to see a concert. We waited in line; the doors opened 20 minutes after noted on the ticket.
We went in; I bought beer. Harpoon IPA. Very hoppy.
I went to the bathroom; someone was apparently in the very midst of smoking a joint. At least, that's what it smelled like. I got out as quickly as possible, so as not to vomit from the smell alone.
I got another beer.
The first band played.
I got a diet coke.
The second band played. The people I was with enjoyed them greatly, and bought CDs. I will do so next week, when I see the show in DC.
I got another beer, and excited for the headliners.
Sleater-Kinney played a very good show.
Walking up the hill to where my friend's car was, the 2 other people I was with went into what didn't appeal to them about SK. It was interesting.
Greg and I went to a place so I could get french fries and a schwarma sandwich. I ate. It was 1:30.
We went back to his apartment, where we'd cleverly made up the futon before leaving, so I wouldn't have to when we got back. Greg went to bed.
I ended up looking through a book in the living room for a while, then trying to go to sleep. The futon had a furrow down the middle, which I'd expected to be horribly uncomfortable to sleep in. Instead, it was just wide enough for me to settle into, and just shallow enough that it didn't seem like I was settled too deeply in. Also, it was noticibly warmer than the rest of the futon. Or at least seemed that way because of the settling in. I had to put warm socks on, and another t-shirt. Then I got warm enough to go to sleep.
That was my Friday. Or, at least, I think it was Friday. Come to think of it, it was very dreamlike. I have to imagine this was partially due to the cloudiness during the entire day. Or something.
All this said, I still need a haircut.
Sigh.
Too bad that The Bangs (one of the acts tonight at the Black Cat) will be playing in Baltimore (BALTIMORE!!) the same night as I already have tickets for SK at the 9:30. Dang.
(3:15 pm)
So, everyone knows that Everyone Else is who sucks. So what's the
challenge in saying that people suck (as insightful as "suck" is).
IT'S ALL ABOUT SPECIFICS, PEOPLE.
It's always about the specifics. The particulars. The details.
Wow, I just had a very German moment, I think.
(4 am)
Ok, this is really old now. Really.
Not as cute as the kitten, though.
(4 pm)
So I can't stop listening to this cd. Unfortunately, even though it's 9
songs long, it's only 18 minutes.
It's so unfair. Heh.
Also, Kitty has the hiccoughs. It's disgustingly cute.
Either that, or she's about to barf, which would not be as cute.
Mike Liddel knows what I'm talking about.
Damn them. But damn them so well.
(4 am)
Sometimes, I don't want to say what I am thinking.
Sometimes, I'm not sure what I am thinking.
Sometimes, both of these are the case, but I'm still not sure what to
do.
These times are annoying.
Hrm.
Right now I just feel bad about the whole deal.
Several deals, in fact. Heh.
Oh, dear.
On a completely different subject, I hate the feeling of, "What was it that made me think this would be a good idea, again?"
Than kew, than keeeeeeeeew.
On the other hand, I have a much bigger HD now.
It's interesing how someone clams up after you tell him or her something he or she doesn't want to hear.
And it's not just me I'm talking about, here.
Not anyone likely to be reading this, even, so I'm all in the clear.
Not that it's not something I'd say directly, if I felt it was anything other than mean.
The weather's been good, at least. And at some point this week, maybe I'll stop being so tentative on the motorcycle. Heh. And, now this is crazy, make it all the way up the driveway and into the garage without stalling.
Clutch on the left hand is something I'm getting used to. And modulating the throttle with the right hand, too, for that matter.
Anyway. Et cetera.
At some point, I'll stop feeling so thoroughly beat.
(midnight)
Ok, so I did buy a bike today.
HOORAY!
Also, Anil bought All Hands on the Bad One, and I have promptly stolen it.
It's....it's....so....it's fun.
It's not that this-is-hitting-way-too-close-to-me that The Hot Rock was.
But it's making me bop around in a most uncool way.
YOU CAN'T GET TO HEAVEN IN A SILVER SPOON! YOU CAN POLISH EVERYTHING EXCEPT FOR THE MARK ON YOU!
I can't WAIT to see them in concert.
Also, it's REALLY freaky that at least in pictures one of the members of SK looks way too much like one of my high school teachers (like 15 years before she was my teacher).
Um. Anyway.
ALL HANDS ON THE BAD ONE. GET IT NOW.
In short, I'm complaing about how much it sucked. Goddam, I hate being cold when I really shouldn't be. Like when it's like 70 degrees and only because the air conditioning is on.
And I've even gained weight over the last few years. I know at least some of it should damn well be warming, protective fat. I mean, dammit.
(1 am)
So what's bizarre is that so I like these bands that I never guess have a
really big audience (the only radio I listen to is talk radio, really, so
I am kind of out of touch about that sort of thing). But at the same time,
I feel like when I go out to shows, the bands I really really like are kind
of old hat and passe. Like I went to see Le Tigre, and first off, I felt
like THEY were kind of like the big thing, so big they were sort of a
musical given, like I guess (er um, I'm not really sure what to say here,
cuz I don't know any big pop artists except for like N'Synch and Limp
Bizkit (or however they spell it), who are kind of the New Kids on the
Block and ... er ... uh ... NIN? analogs today of big acts In My Time
(good god, how pretentious)). It's like, when I go see bands I like, I
feel like I'm behind the times. Which is kind of annoying. While I'm
absolutely not saying I don't appreciate the dressing effort that a lot
of the crowd seems to have put into the evening, I just feel like NOT
dressing hip attacts some looks of "so who do you think you are, coming
here, without even a snugly-fitting shirt, or cardigan to go over it, you
person of no style!?" sniffle
Anyway, I didn't really have anything to say here, except um all the hip kids at those shows usually are really pleasing to look at, but it would be too strenuous for me personally to be that hip.
What I really mean is that I'm far too self-conscious, really. And um yeah stuff.
But also I wonder if being that hip is an effort, or just comes naturally to some. Or if like the cool-looking stylish stuff they have on is really just stuff they threw on like I threw on my clothes in the morning, at least half-asleep, even though I have in fact managed to shower and probably brush my teeth and more likely than not think about something distressing.
I'm really at this point over-analyzing. And I realize that. So don't worry. Too much. This is really the only kind of thing that really causes me any pause at 1 am when I wish I was sleeping and instead end up obsessing about things which randomly occur to me.
But I mean, really. It's also the kind of thing you have to think about by yourself, or at least, I do, because I wouldn't go up to someone and say, "Excuse me, but do you consider yourself ultrahip? Because I'm curious, do you dress that way consciously according to fashion of other people who frequent shows such as this, or have you always dressed like this, because doing so was most comfortable? Did you go to parochial school and really have always liked the way half of an oxford shirt collar poking out of the neck of a cardigan, while half of the shirt tail pokes out of the waist cuff looks? Or what?" That is the kind of thing that is best kept to one's self, or at least, not actually asked of a real person, you know?
PLUS, even though the ultrahip vibe got to me at the Le Tigre show, the show Le Tigre put on fucking rocked.
By the way.
In case you were wondering.
And the crowd really seemed to be into it, which was cool. And. Really. I'm happy there's an audience in DC for the kind of music I like. Actually.
And I CAN'T WAIT for a particular show at the 9:30. I'm all twitchy now as I type, even. Turn it on turn it on turn it on turn it on
But um yeah. How about them Orioles?
And, at some point, I will start listening compulsively to the new Sleater-Kinney instead of the Foo Fighters album. Probably when I get the new Sleater-Kinney in the mail. Heh.
Luna's The Days of our Nights has been another musical thing making me happy. Or, at least, making my ears happy.
(1 am)
Listen listen listening to Tsunami's A Brilliant Mistake. You
should do the same.
Really.
I wore a sweater that I've had for about 4 years for the first time anywhere other than around the house. I drank a lot of beer, but don't think I actually got too obnoxious. I waited in line for the bathroom (at a beerfest, only 3 working women's toilets--yow) behind some women who were talking about relationships, and it was very interesting. In a evesdropping kind of way. Not in an enlightening way. Like, how one of them had an ex-fiance who was everything she was looking for, except sexually exciting. And the other two who were talking about getting together with one of the two's boyfriend. Luckily, this part of the conversation didn't start until they'd made it into the women's room, since the line for the drunken men to get into the men's room was right next to the line for the ladies' room most of the way. Heh.
I also got complimented on my kinda fading blue hair several times today, I think the most times in any one place or at any one event.
I like the sweater I wore, even if it is a little scratchy, and even if Ann Marie put me off wearing it out because she said it made me look like a flounder. Heh two.
I saw Godfather III today, which was totally unsatisfying after the first two.
I took off my sweater to show off my old Mac t-shirt that I got for free because Eric Gandt found it in a dryer and didn't want it.
I slept from 6-10pm on Friday night, after totally not being able to sleep Thursday night, then from 2am to 10am or so Saturday morning, then STILL was tired when I got up. I can't believe now it's only 2am Sunday (ok, so it's really the 23rd).
Um.
I polished my shoes.
That's all the really notable things, I guess.
I'm sure it will get old in short order.
(12:17)
I am 100% in love with down comforters.
Also, Ice Cold Soda is good soda.
Son. Of a. Bitch.
Hee hee. Except it's only funny sometimes.
But, again, on a related note, maybe I border on secretive because of this. Hm.
Good god, I shouldn't be left alone to get this self-absorbed.
(11 am)
When did my hair start doing funky things?
Actually, that's a stupid question, because I've always had the blonde
streak. But really. I can't remember when my hair started being
curly-like. And it's kind of annoying. Dang.
And on a related note, it will be no hair color other than Special Effects for me from now on. Really.
Heh. Ok. Not really. Though that would be really stellar.
Hum hum hum.
Ahahahahahah. Aren't I confident?
Dayum straight.
It's so pretty....
(10 am)
Look, dickhead: it's not my fault you don't understand DNS. It's too bad
you don't realize I'm actually going out of my way here.
son of a motherfucking bitch.
Or something.
There're some things which leave one speechless, in a bad way.
Or probably just me.
The benefit of being cynical is that you occasionally get pleasantly surprised. Or something.
The negative is that you end up being cliched. (rimshot)
Um. I just have a bad attitude at the moment.
"Cause there's no prize/Just a smaller size/And I'm wearing the shoe till
it fits/But then I'm calling it quits"
-Aimee Mann, Calling it Quits
I think I'd move if I didn't like my job. At least, when I actually do something, rather than tell people how to get to our web page.
heh.
Or, maybe not so violent. Maybe just an incredulous stare. Which I think I've perfected from taking phone calls.
Regardless.
YEAH!
Meanwhile, I'm so damn lazy I haven't put in the new hard drive yet. Dammit.
CARNATION - Paul Weller
If you gave me a fresh carnation
I would only crush its tender petals
With me you'll have no escape
And at the same time there'll be nowhere to settle
I trample down all life in my wake
I eat it up and take the cake
I just avert my eyes to the pain
Of someone's loss helping my gain
If you gave me a dream for my pocket
You'd be plugging in the wrong socket
With me there's no room for the future
With me there's no room with a view at all
I am out of season all year round
Hear machinery roar to my empty sound
Touch my heart and feel winter
Hold my hand and be doomed forever
If you gave me a fresh carnation
I would only crush its tender petals
With me you'll have no escape
And at the same time there'll be nowhere to settle.
And if you're wondering by now who I am
Look no further than the mirror
Because I am the greed and fear
And every ounce of hate in you.
Lyrics, whee! The Jam
Even though there's an annoying pop up doodad, it's keen.
Also, finally, went and saw Luna last night at the Black Cat. It was a lot
better than I expected. I'd listened to some of Penthouse, and it
was ok, and I'm not a huge huge Galaxie 500 fan or anything, but sometime
during the week I decided I wanted to go, so even though I was for some
reason way too tired on Saturday night, Anil and I went down. The opening
bands were also good, but I was too tired to even want to buy their
CDs.
Now, that's tired.
I noticed today I'm only seeing them wiggle around in one eye, which probably means I have eye cancer or something. Bleh. Glad I made an appointment yesterday (before I noticed this, eeeeeerie!).
Actually, I'm more sure that there's nothing significant about this, AND that there's no way to get rid of them, so I'm just doomed to be annoyed. Dang.
I really don't remember if that's grammatically correct. I have this sneaking feeling it's not. D.a.n.g.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained/oh you girls you're all the same/and i can't trust my memory/those days were nothing to me, oh i mean/everything, i walked for blocks in the freezing rain,/and now you're gone, it's 98,/i'm waiting for the snow to melt/three days
The Steph Seal of Approval!
Look for it in stores!
(7:30 pm)
I hate realizing things with dismay.
(6:20 pm)
What a waste!
Things have to get moving. Really.
On a completely different note, I saw a developer's preview type thingy of OSX today. OH, BABY.
It is a beautiful thing. Of course, I'll have to get a G4 to go along with it....
Anyway, as you can see, it's a matter of knowing the things I want are out there somewhere, but being hazy on how and where to start. I know OSX is going to be released sometime soon....
Er. Um. Anyway. This probably makes no sense. My thoughts are all over the place. You see.
And when it gets dark, I look like anyone else.
I love that line.
I can't do it, and as for you/could you in good conscience even ask me to?
And that one's been kind of eerie for a while. Except for the good conscience part, since it implies knowledge of why one can't do something or another. Which would be unfair, in this case.
Regardless, the message gets across to everyone sooner or later, I guess, or rather, it seems. Or, at least, some message. It's a poor compromise, at best. Which doesn't explain everything, but isn't it a nice day today?
Wasn't that subtle? Hee hee.
But anyway. I don't even know, which has been another thing that's been frequently heard from me on the topic of everything over the last year or two. Yay. Which sounds better than I don't want to talk about it. Or. Something. I don't EVEN know.
See?
I'm giggling like mad at this VERY MOMENT.
On the inside.
While babbling incoherently on the outside.
ARGH.
People are so rarely what you think.
Take me, for instance.
This message has been brought to you by sarcasm and Diet Dr. Pepper. Just what the Dr. ordered, buddy!
I mean. On second thought, please don't take me.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Oh. And I thought of the other horrible song I had running through my head: We had it all! Just like Bogie and Bacall! something something in Key Largo!
I told you it was bad.
Phooey.
I don't mean smells in a bad way (well, not in a completely bad way).
It smells like it's warm and like we had chinese food for dinner. Which, not surprisingly, is the case. But still.
It also seems like Something could be starting again, but in a nice vague Something Undefined-y way. Just maybe an upswing of events. Or I could just be looking ENTIRELY too forward to shows which are coming up in the next 2 months or so.
Or, of course, this could entirely be hormonal. Or something in the Chinese food. Wiki wiki, ahhh ahhh!
Banned at the end of the world, baby!
(earlier)
I've had the worst songs running through my head the last few days. Like,
that "waiting for a star to fall/blah blah blah blah blah/blah blah blah
blah blah/ in my arms, baby, yeah" (can't remember all the words, see, and
I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse). I can't remember any of
the other ones that I've had in my head, and I'm glad.
(11:45 am)
Tortoise Brand Post Scrubbing Cleaner's Theme!
The Best Pot Cleaner in the World is Specially Selected Tortoise Brand.
A 40, no less!
Not big enough for people to live in, or even for me to feel in danger of having the pants come off, but still big ol big pants. Rrrrrrroomy.
That's pretty much it.
Oh. Except I went on a trip to the beach yesterday. It was pretty keen. Beaches are good in the winter, because there aren't a lot of people there. I mean, duh.
I have done the two things I for some reason wanted to do and had set as a sort of goal at the time (get scuba certified and get my motorcycle license). The scuba was in fact a lot easier than the motorcycle thing. Not that getting the license was hard; the process leading up to getting the scuba certification was a lot more involved, and/but I feel a hell of a lot more secure diving (even though it's been a long fucking time since I've done it) than riding. I think it's because I am better at swimming than balancing and it's really hard to fall over and injure yourself while underwater. Also, while you need to watch out for junk while underwater, someone can't hit you with a ton of metal and kill you. At least, it's a lot less likely than when you're on the road with cars on a motorcycle.
I found out Saturday that I'm not the only person who was considering a trip to a distant state to see a band. Woo. Though it would've been stroke-causing to run into Mike Liddel in Washington state at a random concert. So, in the long run, I'm sure it's for the best.
Heh.
Time is a one-way track, and I am not coming back
There are many things I do not understand. But that is pretty normal. Though frustrating.
So it's 1 am, and I (ahem) was just checking on a problem a customer was having today, making sure I could get to sites they couldn't, etc, from my connection at home. Not being able to makes notes about it from home (mostly because I'm a slacker, partially because it would actually be a pain in the ass to do it from my Mac--long story), I called in to talk to a friend who is on the night shift.
Except he changed to a different schedule this week, and wasn't in.
I was too embarassed to ask anyone else to make the notes for me. I mean. Todd knows what a big dork I am. Heh.
I hate not being able to sleep.
I should try to get a good night's sleep sometime soon. Heh
So I had this idea that I should get an air horn and drive around with my sun roof open. I think it would be satisfying for at least an hour.
HHHHNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKK!
(8:04am)
I've been spending most of my time angry, annoyed, and confused.
I have this feeling things always haven't been this way.
It makes me angry, annoyed, and confused that they are this way now.
That's pretty funny.
Why is it called lubricant, when it should be lubrican?
Hm. I had another thought, but it seems to have gone.
And I started the day off so poorly, getting all pissy because I did something stupid. Pbbt.
I am counting the minutes until I can go home and sleep.
Oh, and went to a show in Baltimore last night. At the end, Penn Jillette, of Penn and Teller, showed up. It was pretty freaky. Also, I got this 7-cd George Carlin set. I was/am highly excited. Toledo Window Box!
Haw haw.
Also, I really hate when someone across the cube farm is playing music, and all you can fucking hear is the bass. An entire industrial album translates to like 45 minutes of "bunta bunta bunta bunta bunta bunta bunta". Which WILL give you a headache after about 20 minutes.
I think these go together pretty well.
I've come back twice/Now I'm the Anti-Christ. hee hee. That's actually off of I'm With Stupid, in case you're wondering. Also an excellent album. Anyway. I guess I can admit this now: I'm an Aimee Mann fan. Since about Whatever. And I didn't even like Til Tuesday all that much.
2/7, at the Ram's Head in Annapolis. I'm looking forward to it. February is shaping up to be a kickass month for shows in the area. Aimee Mann, David Allen Coe, Haujobb. HAUJOBB! I can't freakin wait. I mean. I can. I will. But I'm excited.
Last week I was so full of righteous anger, yeah, leave the cds, let them get fingerprinted. This week, I just don't care. Which is, I suppose, why things get stolen and nothing happens, because it doesn't take long before you're resigned to the fact that probably nothing will happen, the cops won't do a damn thing unless you keep on them then wait for fucking ever, and all around, you should be damn glad that you only have to pay $45 for cds that were yours to begin with.
This feeling of being beaten is becoming all too familiar. I say.
But, mostly, I didn't feel like waiting 2.5 hours for the cops again. Though I should've. Give them more fucking work. Godfuckingdammit.
And what's even worse is that it's stuff that you (well, I) know is worthless to other people, but mostly irreplacable for you (er, me), and ended up in the trash somewhere.
anyway.
I had this dream on Friday night that I in fact have had brown eyes all my life but never noticed. It was weird.
(earlier)
So, while I was at work on Friday, between 8 am and noon, someone stole my
cd player and a bunch of cds from my car. Woohoo. Which meant I spent most
of the afternoon filling out forms and reporting stuff to the cops and
insurance company (renter's insurance was probably my favorite thing about
Friday, yessir).
After work, I went to the used cd places in College Park, figuring it was
worth giving a list of what was missing to them in case whoever stole them
was deperate and stupid enough to go 10 minutes away to sell a bunch of
Sleater-Kinney cds and other crap that I had in my car.
So I went to the one farther north (cuz I was heading south on Route 1)
first, and they were like, nope, none of this has come in today." So I was
thinking I should've gone to Laurel first. Dang.
But I went farther south to Record and Tape Traders, and the guy at the
counter was like, "Uhhhh, we just bought a bunch of these like 5 minutes
ago." And there they were. Really. I have a witness to this. Heh.
Anyway. We hung around for the cops, but after an hour or so, I just wanted to go home. I ended up buying a bunch of LPs. ONLY VINYL FOR ME FROM NOW ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course, the turntable in the car will be shitty for the passenger, but all I have to say is tough shit. Heh.
I'm actually more concerned about getting the cds back than the player. Except there was a cd in there at the time. Bleh. But some of the cds that were stolen were bought at shows.
And in what must be like one of the funniest parts of this, some cds were left in the car. I perfer to think of it as commentary on my musical tastes than the asshole who stole the stuff not being able to carry it all.
What makes me the most relieved is that the 5-cd set under my passenger seat didn't get stolen (The Jam "Direction Reaction Creation" set. Though a single Jam cd was stolen -- "Sound Affects". I'm also glad that none of the cds I've borrowed from people were in the car).
Anyway. Exciting Friday. The Prince George's County PD seriously needs to work on the customer-service type aspect of their job. It would make things easier for them, even. Anyway.
(breakfast)
I like grits. The food.
SLUGGY.
(earlier)
I am a month away from being 25.
I saw the 4th Alien movie this past weekend. What I remembered of it, I liked. It was written by the guy who does Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I just sort of focused on that. Not the fact that it seemed like Ripley was completely different from the other movies.
Basically, whatever. heh.
At least a thumb up.
I went to 7-11 last night and the counterperson, after having me give her some coins, said, "You need some gloves".
(at work)
Suck. Ass.
I can't wait to go home and drown my troubles in sweet sweet beer. Today has been shit.
Too much coffee makes me jittery
fuckall. and i mean that.
I also have managed to royally screw up my sleeping patterns. Dammit.
Banana puddin, banana puddin!
That has been running through my head since I saw Southern Culture on the Skids a week or so ago.
Also, Bell Bottom Blues will not leave my head.
All in all, I prefer Banana Puddin. Except, not to eat.
Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid. Chicken with squid.
(2:33 pm)
Part of my current problem is, in fact, there is about no one I actually
look forward to seeing any more.
I think I'm turning into my father.
I am now going to go throw up.
Or, hopefully, it's just today.
(2:26 pm)
My second, even less accurate fortune cookie fortune:
You have a strong desire for a home and family.
(2:22 pm)
What my fortune cookie fortune said:
Others are anxious to get to know you better.
What it should say:
You should take a vacation from other people for about 3 months. You
should buy a new gun. You should get a new job. You should probably see
some kind of psychiatrist, except you're just fucked up in a boring yet
intensely annoying way, not an incredibly bad way.
(2:00 pm)
nevermind.
1) it will not be my next gun. it would hurt too much. i will (and can)
wait.
2) it's so not important.
Ooops!
Also, I saw what will probably be my next gun yesterday. Sweeeeeet.
As usual, I'm sure this says something negative about me, but don't really care in the slightest.
You know, actually, "To the Zoo" followed "Hazy Shade of Winter" and I was wrong. There are 2 Simon and Garfunkel songs that I ever want to hear again. Giaraffes are insincere. Elephants are kindly but they're dumb.
So weird.
I made chili tonight with leftover turkey. I put in about 2/3 of a bottle of Crystal hot sauce (one of those big-ass bottles, not one of the little wimpy ones), hot pepper flakes, and cayanne.
I had a bowl to try it out.
I think I was actually hallucinating a little bit.
That's damn good chili.
I mean, really.
Tenet 1: If you have a website, it must be of some use to someone, even
if it's something you did because you were bored at work
Tenet 2: If you are saying how worthless something you obviously took the
time to do is on your very own site, like, you have problems.
Tenet 3: If it's pointless, why not delete it?
The innnnternet seems to be full of people who must have boxes of like every paper they did in grades 1 through 12. Good golly.
