Thursday, January 31, 2008

Reception Problems

My first day back to the basement... Overall it was a good day, despite having to tell more than a few people about my excursion down south, over and over again. A couple people gave me the, "so, you came back, huh?" to which I could barely mumble a response.

L. Marge was more than excited to see me, giving me a great yelp of a hello, which honestly unnerved me quite a bit.

Despite that, I still found I knew my recipes by heart, not like I was gone all that long, long enough to forget (one day), but I was still a little shaky about doing the work again.

...

Though after I woke up this morning I went to retrieve some Cd's from the stereo, and found to my dismay that it no longer is functioning the way it should. For some reason the five disc pod bay simply refuses to open, nor to acknowledge any Cd's inside of it.

Booooo!

Ever since I bought it, it has given me problems. I really think the thing is haunted, because for no reason at all it would turn itself on, pump the volume as loud as it could at a steady pace, and turn the radio on to no station at all, resulting in a blast of static waking me up at four in the morning.

At other times the buttons would reprogram themselves randomly, so that the eject button would turn it off, the play button switch itself to the radio, and the off button to something utterly else. It even did this with the remote control.

I learned to keep the thing unplugged at night, and in fact I barely used it. It gave me the creeps.

But hey, its all right. One less thing to pack. (wink, wink).

I just gotta find a way to break into it.

Heaving it over my head and throwing it against something hard, like concrete, seems to me a very good idea. I've always wanted to smash some sort of electronic equipment into a bunch of pieces.

(note- throwing a computer over the edge of a three story apartment building, drunkenly at four in the morning, a few times, does not result in the kind of spectacular display one might like to imagine it having. Trust me.)

...

Oh, and the stereo at work today seemed to be on the fritz as well. We do certainly abuse stereo equipment in our kitchen.

Especially the douche that dropped the old one into a giant pot of freshly made soup, after it had bounced off his extremely thick skull. Ha. That was a good one.
...

Something I forgot about airport security - Despite all the special, extra attention they gave me, somehow they neglected to find the book of matches that were in my coat pocket, which I found out about later at the bar that night, which saddened me, only because I really wanted to have a cigarette after getting out to the street.

...


And a shout out to my new friends in Austin, the wonderful people at Texas Coffee Trader's, who now know about my blog, thanks to Squid. You are all probably at Lovejoys this very minute, enjoying many, many pints, and for that I'm extremely jealous, and longing to be there.

I tried going to my The Bar the other night, and it just wasn't the same... I mean, yeah, but, really...

I ask this again, is moving to a new town simply for a bar a really bad idea?

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Lost in, Austin

I was relieved to arrive home from the airport (via drinks and dinner at the bar) to find that the powers that be greeted my homecoming with a blessing of rain, rain that continued into the next day where I found my spirits way up, partly due to the weather, and partly due to the afterglow of returning to one's home after a vacation, a very sweet vacation.

This, of course, is typical winter in Michigan, whereas sometime during the night this blessing became a curse and has dashed my hopes all over the cement in the form of high winds, sub-zero temps (again) and some snowfall.

Welcome home.

Last night I was smoking a cigarette on the porch and at about 1:30 in the AM, I looked to my left out the window and saw a magnificent green flash of light that lit up the entire night sky, and then saw a smaller blue dome of electricity flare up, and then a slight audible "crack" and then darkness down the street. Somehow the power in my house stayed flowing, and I stood there astounded having witnessed some kind of power outage and subsequent explosion of some sort.

A gentle reminder of how weather can suddenly just kill you. Michigan is a harsh mistress.

...

Austin. I love my friends dearly, and to be honest I understand just how they were baiting me, promises of the promised land of Austin... Yes, I'm still waffling. Having seen the city for the 2nd time, I can say, yes, perhaps I should move down there, but I do have a list of pros and cons forming in my head, and I think I've fallen into the trap of over thinking everything, every possible outcome to the point of near insanity, which I seem to be doing a lot these days about the simplest of things. That and getting me to make any sort of real decision, well, I gots problems with that.

Anyway, My vacation:

Concerning Airport security: Found out the hard way that my drivers license has expired, and normally I don't carry any other ID, so I had to go through Double Secret Airport Security on both trips. The first had me walk through the "Air-Puffer" machine, which, frankly, I have no goddamn idea what the purpose of this machine is, other than to irritate and shock people into a higher level of stress and paranoia when going through airport security. But actually it was kind of fun. I felt like it was a transporter, or something equally futuristic. Then the dudes searching though my belongings with swabs of some sort all commented on my cool tattoos.

Thanks guys.

I suppose that was better than the old man feeling me up and patting me down at the San Antonio airport, whose supervisor scolded him for "touching to high on the thigh."

(Shudder)

...

Drinking: While I didn't get to see too much of Austin until my last day there, on Sunday, I did get to see a lot of my newest most favorite bar in the known world, Lovejoys.

If there was ever a bar that I'd be happy with spending the rest of my life going to and getting extremely drunk in, that would probably be it. But is one, lone bar reason enough to move to a new city? Knowing the way I drin-, er, think, yeah, probably.

Not to mention the Kababalicious stand is just up the block, and I think we dined there a few times. As you should, its delicious. I don't know what they put in those things, but its fucking tasty.

The rest of the time I spent with friends, old and new, meeting up with the Lass and meeting her extremely awesome husband, meeting patrons of Lovejoy's, meeting my e-penpal face-to-face, and meeting a few of Austin's homeless people.

When we drove to the bar and found a parking spot, I thought at first, "Wow, this town is so friendly. Look, the homeless people help you park your car!" Because they literally stand at the parking meters and help guide you in, even though this is really just an insignificant gesture given that these spots are not hard to pull into, yet they still expect money from you. Which made me a little paranoid for the safety of the car, because I've seen that done in Detroit, and when they say they'll watch your car, they mean "Give me money or your windows might not be here when you get back, or your car for that matter."

...

On Eating: Oh god, I don't think I've eaten that much food. We counted at least five distinct food comas, where we actually had to sit at the house for a good hour or two and do nothing, because we couldn't move thanks to the great grub in our bellies. Two in one day, which hit hard because the breakfast we had was huge and good, and then we gorged ourselves on a lot, a LOT of sushi and warm sake. I'm trying very hard not to regret dropping that much cash money on dinner, but it was worth it. It felt good splurging.

Also discovered that there is a huge difference between breakfast burritos and breakfast tacos, which the distinction between the two Texans seem to take very seriously. Also something known as Queso, which we refer to as salsa with melted cheese, up north here. Actually, I refer to it as something I could probably drink if given the chance and no one were watching. And in all actuality I've literally eaten an entire jar of queso dip (with chips) in one sitting for a dinner meal in fact. The perks of a being a single man again. I just wish people would add the word "dip" to the end of Queso. Not really sure why this bothers me, just saying.

...

Habitat: I definitely agree with the weather down there. How funny to hear people complain about it being 45 degrees and cloudy. That was like T-shirt weather to me. And shorts, but I refuse to wear shorts, sorry.

Then again I haven't felt the summer yet, as that seems to be pretty brutal.

I did enjoy the natural areas of town. Hiking up Mount Bonnell, to see the sights of the city from above, and exploring the ravines of the greenbelt, which seemed like a great place to hang out, down in a gorge of sorts, jumping from rock to rock, people hanging out with dogs and beer, etc.

Though the thing that gets me is space, and how spread out the town is.

As you can tell by my expired driver's license, I don't drive much, and I kind of dislike it. I don't really wish to own a vehicle, so getting around town may be an issue for me. Seems as though that's the main mode of transportation for folks in the area.

...

And it seems as though everyone in Austin is in some kind of band, or like, two or three bands. Which I think is perfectly acceptable.

I did take in some shows, a couple at some bars, and one at a house party, where I saw one of my new favorite performers, a man that goes by the name of Furley, or Furly, who resembles almost exactly a guy I work with, and apparently smokes as much pot as him as well. During his set the performer passed around three joints. Now, I don't think one should have to be high to enjoy a particular kind of music, or get people high to enjoy your music, but if that's part of your schtick, I'm all for it. But it wasn't the pot, it was his performance, just one man and his machines, drum machine, loop pedal, and his guitar, and songs about frogs in his pockets.

He was totally sweet.

...

And props to my friends for cooking an awesome farewell, genuine, Texas barbacue steak dinner. I don't eat red meat all that often, but that stuff was delicious.

...

Other than that, Texas was fantastic.

Tomorrow I return to my dreaded occupation. Until then, I'm not leaving the house. It's seriously arctic out there.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

All Systems Go.

A coworker said something odd to me yesterday, as he was leaving. He said, "I haven't seen you smile in quite a long time... this is a good thing."

I realized I was smiling, which struck me as odd, that I didn't even realize I was smiling. That I had forgotten what it felt like.

But I do know why I was.

I leave for Austin tomorrow morning. I'm currently spending the first day of my vacation being as lazy as possible, though I know I should be getting stuff in order, packing, tying up loose ends, etc, before I go. But I just want to cherish this feeling, the feeling that I don't have to work for eight whole days. In a row.

So much relief.

Though I've had some time at home with the holidays and such, I haven't really taken any time off that was was solely for me, to go where I want, and that didn't involve family, which can sometimes not really be considered a vacation (if you knew my family).

I'm actually kind of impressed with myself, that given the events of the last five months, I've come through it pretty much ok, didn't do anything majorly destructive to myself, and was able to show up to work, and get the job done, though there were times I almost broke down...

I'm feeling much more like myself lately. And it feels good.

So I probably won't be updating while I'm away.

But I'll be back on Monday with tales of my adventures down south.

Hope all is well and dandy.

...

Monday, January 21, 2008

Things That Annoy Me at Work, 1

For some reason whenever someone utters the phrase, "Can I get in that _____" whether it be sink, or oven, it just sets a switch off in my brain.

Our kitchen is small, and often used by various other cooks, and though technically its my domain, I still have to bend sometimes, and let other people use the space.

Oven space is constantly an issue.

So whenever someone asks to use it, that alone gets me. But I realize that's par for the course. But then they ask in this certain phrase, that everyone uses. They say, "Can I get in that oven?" I just automatically respond with, "yeah, but dude, life is so worth living..." Why that phrase? Why does that bother me so much?

Or once, there was this time, when a rather rotund staff member asked, "Can I jump in that sink real quick," I thought to myself, "you can try, but I don't think you'll fit."

I did the choke laugh, the one where you kinda cough, because you don't want to laugh out loud, and then have to awkwardly keep coughing to cover it up. Sometimes I do make myself laugh. Almost publicly.

Is there a word for that action, the choke cough?

There should also be a word for the type of conversation that you have no choice but to overhear, one that is exactly lacking in any sort of interest and/or significant content to your self, but you can't shut it off.

I go through that everyday.

I wonder how I keep my sanity.


Somebody once asked why I'm so quiet at work.

Actually, no one has really asked that question of me.

I just wanted to say that somebody did (to segue into this next bit).

Cause I imagine myself being asked this question while I'm working.

Only because I want to reply with, "have you seen the people I work with? The less you talk, the better off you are." Which is a line I think I saw in a movie, and have promptly stolen for my own personal use. Through my actions.

...


Oh, and when people comment on how cold it is outside. Especially when they're talking to the guys that work outside.

My friend with that job once kept a tally on how many people have said that since October.

Like, over fifty hatch marks. By December.

Then again it is like single digits out there, right now, on this fine eve.

This state has a brutal winter sometimes.

(I know it could be worse... it still sucks though.)

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Ringing All Through the Store

My weekend thus far:

Friday night I felt restless, and insecure, so I made my way through the nearly subzero , devilish temperature to go to The Bar, in the hopes of securing some kind of conversation with some sort of friend. Unfortunately no one I knew seemed to be out and about, and The Bar quickly filled up with douche bags, and I found myself alone at a booth, sitting with a pile of coats on either side of me.

The standing people around me hungrily eyed my seating real estate, waiting for me to leave, and I could feel that, yet I had no where else to sit. So I stayed there anyway, watching people converse with each other.

I felt like those coats, almost abandoned and owner-less, empty on the seat cushions.

So I left before 11:30 and went back home and wrote fevered, sad poetry hoping to turn it into song, and drank a bottle of one of my favorite beers, the Australian Sheaf Stout. I also tried to make myself cry, but I couldn't.

Emotions were very out of whack that night. And I'm glad I didn't get on this thing to drunk blog (drog?) about it, cause it would have been ugly. Trust me.

...

Saturday morning I ventured out early to go, finally, to the local Kiwanis thrift sale, which is by far one of the best thrifting experiences one can have in this town. Unfortunately it is only open Saturday mornings for four hours, which I usually work on Saturdays, and am usually too hungover despite this fact.

Though I have no idea what Kiwanis stands for ideologically, I noticed that it is run mainly by very old people. They also seem to have a fondness for not paying attention to the low, low prices, and they welcome good old fashioned haggling, which is rad. I really enjoyed the man who mans the loud speaker, making amazing announcements all morning long. I wish to record them somehow.

I purchased a Sony "Sound Rider" cassette player for the purposes of using the built in microphone for home recording on cassette tapes (ala early Mountain Goats. All hail the Lo-Fi!). I haven't quite entered the digital age. So now I can actually record myself playing music, which I attempted and found myself very nervous for some reason that I couldn't play well even though it was only me in my room, and that my voice still totally sounds alien to me when I listen to it on recordings, which I've known that fact for years, but it still gets me all weirded out.

Soon I will figure out a way to record songs onto Magnus, and thus I will post them somewhere on the interweb for other people to hear. Still working on this.

Also bought a new sweater with red and brown strips, and a little eagle over my heart, which I'm wearing now, though it is a little itchy on the skin. I like it anyway. This is also probably the first article of clothing I've bought for myself in some time, as I do not currently have a fashion adviser, i.e. girlfriend that tells me what to where.

...

Later that night I contemplated going out again, but really the sub-zero temps made going out seem like a foolish endeavor, so I stayed home with a nice bottle of red wine, and zoned out to video games for most of the night.

...

Today I woke up feeling marginally better about the state of my life, which I'll admit I'm still having troubles now and again, emotional dips, and feelings of insecurity. I made coffee and learned three Mountain Goats songs that I have been meaning to figure out for quite some time now. (Store, Attention All Pickpockets, and Noctifer Birmingham, which are among the list of my many, many, upon many favorites)

Also got my usual Sunday breakfast of Bee Bim Bop at the little deli, with a side of Kim Chee. And purchased a brand new notebook for the purpose of journaling and random thoughts and lyrics. My old notebook has just about filled up and I'm ready for a new notebook. Something about a fresh, clean notebook, almost a holy feeling. That is until I muck it up with details of my humdrum existence.

Speaking of holy, hopefully tonight I will be going to "Church" which is an old tradition my friends and I had, of getting together on a Sunday evening, cooking dinner, and drinking and playing songs for each other on the guitar til late at night.

Its been years since I've attended, and I miss it dearly, oh Prodigal Son that I am.

...

I think I'm doing all right for this weekend on the whole. Its been so long since I've had two whole days off in a row, and to myself, I almost didn't know what to do with this magical time.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Day Dreams of Dreamy Days (and Fire)

I love my friend Squid. She's pretty much the only person who actually calls me on the phone, not that I'm complaining, because I loathe talking on the phone for longer than two minutes, hence my fear of ordering food, and dealing with most other things one has to actually use the telephone for.

But I do love text messages, and indeed any technology that was invented to bring us closer together but actually drives us further apart. (like how email has replaced real, actual, hand-written letters. Or that text messages mean I don't even have to call people to figure out their plans for the evening.)

I digress.

She called me today to let me know she's already coming up with options for places for me to live in Austin, whenever I muster up the courage to pack my things up and go.

I don't even have to look for a place to live now.

Sweet!

...

Oh my day dreams. Wonderful day dreams.

Several coworkers have been asking me about my vacation plans. A few people apparently do know me rather well, because they will ask, "when are you coming back... er... are you coming back?"

To which I reply, "probably not..."

I'm half serious.

I do not really possess many material goods that I'm horribly affectionate for. A few meaningful trinkets and decorations, Ultra Magnus (my laptop), my guitar, and my clothes...

I do not own furniture, at least, I haven't really ever bought furniture, beyond my crappy twin bed which I should probably get rid of anyway (springs are more and more noticeable), and the furniture the Lady didn't want to get rid of on her own, so she left it in the apartment. I have a TV that was given to me for free when Squid left for Texas. Free because somehow she was vaccuming around it the day before she left, and this somehow "shocked" the TV into constantly displaying the menus over and over again in the lower left hand corner, which I accepted because I thought it would deter me from playing video games so much, since I can't see the game all that well.

I own some DVD's but lately I'm beginning to wish I hadn't bought them. Some are essential movies I watch over and over again, but really, I don't even watch them that often... They are expensive if you think about it, and Netflix seems to be a better idea when I think about it, even though I'm stalling to get that service.

I do possess a lot of CD's, which I do like buying, even though the music industry bothers me, and never pays the actual artist or band enough. I do not own an Ipod or any some such device.

I'm thinking of having a stuff sale before I move, where I just sell most of what I own.

That and I've always had a secret, strange wish to lose all of my material goods in a fire. Even though that would be tragic and inconvenient, and I would miss some things, still, I have that day dream from time to time.

...


Oh, and I fixed my head. I now have an evenly shaven skull. No more Mange. It feels good, and I don't need to wear a hat anymore.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

All Thoughts Point South

My work week usually begins with the meat shifts, two to three days of working upstairs in the actual kitchen, cooking actual dishes, not the incessant chopping of vegetables that my other few days consist of.

The meat shift can be quite difficult. The difficulty does not depend so much on the work load, which can be stressful, but mainly on my tolerance of the Dishers, our little group of misfits that wash my pots and pans.

They are a sad bunch, souls who have definitely gone astray at some point in their lives, and pretty much have the worst job in all of food service-dom.

Prep cooks are not exactly far behind, as far as the career ladder goes for kitchen work. But its much better than the main line of my restaurant, which I did for three years prior. Grueling work, so grueling, and I actually make more now wage-wise to do what I do, than those fools over there...

But the Dishers, oh, these souls, the meek of the Earth, the lot of people I sometimes can't help but feel sorry for, yet can be the bane of my existence...

I'll introduce you to Xerxes, (names have been changed to protect the guilty), a guy who has literally done most illegal substances known to man, ex-alcoholic and jailbird, who has done some dark deeds in his past (to dark to write about here), has a penchant for protein
, and tends to tell the same jokes over and over again to anyone who walks into the kitchen, who borrows five bucks from me once a week (though has paid me back every time), and mispronounces the names of celebrities all the time (which is quite funny, actually. For example: Quentin Tarantino = Quentin Tino, or Val Kilmer = Val Kramer, or Robin Williams = Robert Williams. I've tried correcting him, it doesn't work).

He has changed his life around, though. AA worked for him, and he's been clean and sober for over twenty years. He has a good heart, and means well, and once hopped a tall fence (he's a big guy) to race into a burning building to help rescue someone.

I usually spend most of my shifts with him, which can be trying.

His latest thing is watching the History channel, which I don't think he should be allowed to do.

I mean, I'm all for people watching the History channel, increasing their knowledge, learning about things... But I'm still not sure how you can watch a two hour special on Joseph Stalin and Communist Russia, and still refer to him has "Joseph Starling" in casual conversation.

Information might not be sinking in there.

Today I got to hear all about the special on hillbillies that he watched. He's from the south, and I think this show reminded him a little about home, as it seemed to have interested him greatly. I just wish I didn't have to hear about it ten times today.

Though I'm really curious as to his Carnie days, of which he won't really discuss much about, namely due to something known as the "Carnie code." Apparently there's also a secret Carnie language, which he will not divulge the details of. Of course, he'd probably mispronounce the words anyway...

But I do have a special place for him in my heart. I just wish he came with a mute button sometimes.

and I do wish he'd win the lottery, mainly because he said if he did, he'd give all of his coworkers a million dollars a piece, and I believe he would. Which is surprising, because some of the other cooks can be down right brutal to him sometimes, even though he works really hard.

...

Just one week until vacation. My soul is still heavy, my feet hurt, I'm smoking too much, my heart is beating in 1/4 time, but oh dear lord, just four more shifts until I'm off for a week. Eight glorious days, five of which will be spent in Texas, where I heard there is this thing called the sun, a big ball of flame that actually shines during the day, of which I haven't seen for a month.

One week!

And I actually have two whole days off in a row! An actual weekend, on the weekend no less.

...

I just talked to my friend in Austin on the phone, who couldn't talk long, but gave me some information which has set my brain all a boiling... something about two friends of mine signing a lease on a house, a three bedroom house...

Though I'm not quite sure I'm in the best place right now to just up and move next month.

That is, if I actually want to move, which I'm pretty much at about 72 percent sure I'm going to.

But this info will make for some good day dreaming tomorrow at work.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

To the Baker:

I'm rather fond of your delicious treats that you bring into work all the time.

I know you're dedicated to your craft, and practice night after night coming up with new recipes, new ideas, experiments and such.

I would like to thank you for that mini-cheesecake you made for me on my birthday, it was quite good, and I ate it all in one sitting, though I had full intentions of not doing that exact thing. But it was delicious. I could not stop.

I know that someday you would like to run your own bakery, and frankly, if I truly had a sweet tooth, which for the past 29 years I haven't had one, I'd probably shop at your business all the time.

I'm just beginning to enjoy chocolate for the first time in my life. Mainly because I can literally feel the effects of it, releasing serotonin into my brain. Maybe its the sugar buzz, but I do feel much better after ingesting chocolate. Usually chocolate makes me sneeze for some weird reason. Maybe I'm partially allergic.

Anyhow, again, thank you for bringing in all of your baked goods all the time. You seem quite relentless with your endeavors.

But sometimes...

just sometimes...

I wonder...

if you put extra ingredients in there...

like, really bad things...

like spit. Or maybe a cigarette ash. Or a minute dash of something really bad, hoping one day that someone will get the "wrong" cookie, and will no longer be with us...

just to spite your coworkers.

...

Am I morbid for thinking this? Every cookie bite I take, I kind of hesitate... you seem to watch so closely, looking for my reaction.

I don't know. You'd just have to know this person.

I could totally see her doing it.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Toiletries

I had a slight scare today at work.

I had just turned on a burner on the stove, and noticed unusually large amounts of smoke coming out from under the pot of water. So I turned off the burner and noticed the glow of flame still there, flickering away.

It looked as if part of the metal pipe had caught fire. My heart leaped into my throat and I thought for a second that the stove was going to blow up, even though I'm not really sure now if I was actually in any danger.

But the thought was there, and I panicked a little, pacing back and forth looking for something to put on the fire. Until the dishwasher, whom I refer to as Large Marge (something about her, her voice I think... every time I work with her I keep expecting her to turn to me and say, "Tell em' Large Marge sent ya!" and do that thing with her face, like in Pee Wee's Big Adventure.) simply sprayed water on it.

Thanks L. Marge.

The life of a Prep Cook is fraught with danger... every day.

...

So I just got back from band practice, and I'll admit I wasn't feeling it tonight, though we did kick out some jams.

We practice in my old house, the one I lived in for three years, the one I dramatically miss from time to time lately.

Life just seemed to make sense there, in that house, with those guys... Granted I spent most of my time playing video games and massively stoned up in my room. My fortress of Man-i-tude.

Its odd seeing it now. I almost wanted to walk into my old room and find my old set up there...

So I went to the bathroom instead. I didn't even have to go, I just wanted to see the old bathroom. The most spacious bathroom ever. You could fit a small sofa in there. We even had a chair in there, for no real reason, cuz that would be real awkward to have someone in there with you, just reading, in the chair, casually glancing up at you...

Is it odd to miss an old toilet you pooped on for three years?

It was a great toilet.

Flushed real nice, mostly, though it did have a slight run to it from time to time. Jiggle the handle kind of thing.

Also it froze over last year, during a particular nasty temperature drop. That wasn't very fun.

Maybe it wasn't such great toilet...

We did go through a lot in the time. Lot's of laughs, reading, good times... Ups and downs, we stuck with each other through thick and thin...

Ok. This is odd.
...

I saw the old cat, too. I used to be nice to that cat, up until the great worm incident of 2006.

I noticed something white and moving on the cat's butthole. And then I noticed white flakes everywhere. And then the fleas attacked... Now that I think of it, I'm not really sure why I was looking at the cat's butthole. But somehow I caught a very gross glimpse of the tortures to come.

I stopped letting them into my room after that, even though they would scratch and claw at the door all the time.

I wondered if it remembered me now, or if it just was craving attention.

That was a needy little cat.

...

I almost went out tonight, but half of me felt incredibly resistant thanks to the bitter cold and the snow currently falling...

and the other half of me is in avoidance mode, because of the chance happening of an awkward public encounter with someone. No real reason why, just not up for that tonight. Just have the heebie-jeebies like.

I know I shouldn't let either of these situations ruin a good night out. But I did have a nice weekend of a couple bar nights that were fun, inspirational, and quite drunken affairs, so I need a little break.





Sunday, January 13, 2008

Note to Self One

Note to self: Beard trimmer does not equal hair clippers.

Found this out the hard way.

Which is often how I learn things in life...

For one, the juice runs out on that thing kinda quick like. Which was odd to me, considering I charged it once when i first got it, barely used it, and the power lasted for months. Also the teeny little guards for it didn't exactly give me an even cut around my scalp. There are more than a few tiny bald spots on my noggin.

So now my head is shaved, mostly, and also looks as if I've got the mange.

Luckily, I opted to go to The Bar, rather than the dance party at the local Lodge, where the old gentlemen that run the place require the men folk to remove their hats.

Not to mention I arrived at the bar, showed off my handy hair cutting skills, and promptly realized that I had put my T-shirt on inside out...

I am the picture of fashion right now.

...

Other than that, I haven't been up to a whole lot. Working on the music here and there. Cleaned up a little around the house, on this cold, gray afternoon. Probably going to nap a little.

um, yeah. That's all I got...

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Future Fortunes

I wrote new lyrics for a song yesterday, using several Chinese fortune cookie fortunes I've had stashed in my wallet, ones I've held onto for reason, in the vain hopes that one day they will come true...

I'm usually not prone to admit that anything I write is any good of any sort, considering my serious problems with self-esteem and self-criticism, but this time around I'm actually kinda content with the way its turning out.

This prompted me to order Chinese food, because one, it is delicious, and two, I needed more material.

The fortune read: "You do not need to worry about the future."

Wooooooo! Thank god, the pressure's off. Cause really that's all I've been worrying about for the past month.

In some way it did kind of put me at ease, or at least made me laugh. Perhaps a little sign from the universe.

...

Last night I attended my friend's punk/grind band's final performance at the local punk rock house.

Despite the fact I would never want to live in that house, and sometimes find going there a little unsettling, something about the show felt almost holy to me...

I was crammed against the doorway leading into the "stage" room, holding on for dear life as countless bodies slammed into my back, the crowd pushing and moshing around me, all sweat and BO and beer. People just giving into the aggressive noise, movement, movement, movement...

After the show I walked home and sat outside on the steps to my house, smoking cigarettes and basking in what was probably the first "normal" feelings I've had in sometime. The temperature held at slightly chilling, but something in the air reminded me of my vacation to Portland, Or, a couple years ago... slightly damp, and cold, yet I felt snug in my sweaters. I simply could not bring myself to go back inside my house. It felt almost like Spring was just around the corner, like any day now, even though its barely January, and there's still a ways to go with this winter.

...

There was also much discussion today at work for the planned expansion of the business I work for. Though it remains to be seen if (a. I stay at this job for a while, b. I do not move) one day I will be released from my basement servitude. There also seems to be some sort of "tunnel" idea, to connect to the new basement from the old one, if and when this expansion happens.

This idea excited me, for I started to imagine possibly living in said tunnel, having some secret hideaway only I knew about, or perhaps a tunnel much like an airport, complete with moving walkways, those escalator like treads that are on level ground.

One guy's only request was for a window to the outside world, which, if the new basement idea stays, he figured there would be a window, but only it would look out into the ground, i.e. a window to nothing but dirt.

Which I thought would actually be kinda cool for a little while, watching the worms and bugs and stuff digging around.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Gaius Hip-Hop Bassist

This fifty degree weather has been a godsend. Just to reiterate how awesome it feels to us north-folk, I slept with the windows open two nights in a row.

Now that's good sleepin' weather.

Though this warm streak is really messing up my seasonal affective disorder. I'm not saying I'm against it, but I think it should most definitely come around again, oh, sometime like the end of February when I'm really going to be down in the dumps.

...

I had my second band practice last night.

Now, while I've been a fan of some hip-hop music, though mostly I'm a little behind in what's good and what's not so good in this genre, I simply cannot understand why some people insist that in order to fully appreciate hip-hop, and even attempt rapping as a person with white skin, they must act and talk as if they were gangsta's from the hood.

I'm all for any one, of any descent, race, creed or color engaging in the creative act of making music, and turning some lyrical flows. There were some fellows hanging out in the practice space (my old living room), who happened to be white, who got up to rap at one point, and I'll admit some of it was decent, but it was the social interactions between them, when they were simply talking to each other in straight up ebonics... Not that any one should have to act and talk in a certain way based on the pigments in their skin...

Maybe I'm biased cuz I work with such a fellow, Whitee-e who talks and acts this way, and probably even raps, and plays some terrible tunes at work that I still have an ongoing war with...

But it was fun playing bass for them, trying to play some hip-hop bass lines, even though I'm not much of a bassist.

But I did feel mighty awkward when the impromptu rap session came to a close and one guy gave me the one arm bro hug, and the shake hands, finger snap thing.

...

Good lord almighty. I just know Bill Hicks is rolling in his grave right now, well, over a lot of things, but specifically about this.

I know I'm co-opting Roman culture, but that has got to stop.

Go back to sleep America...

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Foggy Night, Foggy Head

The sublimation began sometime in the evening yesterday, and it was fantastic to walk around in, the world enshrouded in white mist. Perhaps I should become Gaius Weather Man, as my predictions totally came true. Sweet.

...

Roommate and I went out to The Bar last night for a few drinks. Despite the recent celebrations, new years, birthdays and such, I haven't found myself out at the bar to be out at the bar for the simple sake of the weekend in a long time.

She left after a couple drinks, and I found myself wanting to stay. In what was supposed to be just 'one more' beer, I found myself in good company, and suddenly people were buying me drinks, and well, hell, can't say no to that...

Also had my first awkward random public encounter with the (ex)Lady. I'll admit the moment I saw her enter the bar I allowed myself to get all flustered, and decided to be dramatic about it for a moment... after she had walked by without seeing me, I settled down some, realized what I was doing, and decided to stop behaving that way... This town is small enough, and its bound to happen again, and will happen again, and really, there was nothing to be dramatic about.

There you are. There you go. ok.

We exchanged pleasantries at one point, said hellos and goodbyes and all was well.

This did spark a long discussion with the table I was at about the nature of exes, specifically how suddenly our perceptions of people change, and how loaded that word is, ex... How we must dramatize it, which in some cases can be justified, especially if the person really screwed you over some... But even if its the most amicable of break ups, there's still some lingering power of sorts, you are now my ex, I must spite thee... etc...

Anyway, it prompted shots and cheers to the ones that got away, or we let go away, and suddenly I found myself quite inebriated and walked home through the fog, finally letting the dramatics take over, relishing in the drama of having seen you again, albeit briefly... And then I tried to imagine myself in some sort of pre-dawn of man era, before humans got smart (sort of) and started mucking stuff up with buildings and pollution, which for some reason I seem to think man's prehistory involved a lot of fog. Then I hoped, secretly, the fog would carry me away some how.

There was some sort of party going on in a house on my block, and for some reason I decided to just up and walk inside the party. It was probably 2:30 or so, and I was drunk, and decided it was a good idea. I recognized no one. Part of me just really wanted to see the inside of the house, to see how these folks lived, what kind of stuff they had... part of me wanted more booze, which luckily there was none to be found. I meandered out to the porch, and someone complimented me on my beard, and I left, because I think people knew I was a stranger in a strange land, some random, mutton chop wearing bearded weird dude come in off the street.

I got home and laughed to myself for my antics. And then ate doritos and passed out and slept til 1 in the afternoon, because I could, and I was hungover.

...

So I pretty much squandered this day off, but that's ok. That's what Sundays are for.

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Fair Weather, Fairer Thoughts

The temperature has climbed well into the upper forties, and this is a godsend. Practically a heat wave, almost no winter coat weather for us hardy folks of the north. I walked to work in the rain, which is ten times better than no snow. Though now the streets are soupy with melted snow and slush, but I will take it. It will do.

And the forecast is for more, somewhere in the fifties on Monday, which I'm not holding my breath for, as it seems when every one mentions this fact to each other, the temperature climbs with each retelling, like a hopeful game of Telephone. Do I hear 60 degrees, anyone? 62, sold to the man in the apron!

Either way, I feel better for it, already. And hopefully tonight the sublimation will begin, when the snow turns into massive fog, and blankets this town in smoke and mist. Those are the best nights to walk around.

...

I found a rubber band on the ground at work today, outside on the receiving dock where everyone smokes. Magically, the rubber band had fallen to the ground and sat there in the perfect shape of a heart. I walked past it thinking nothing of it, until it registered, the heart shape, and I picked it up and put my hand through it... A little sign from above, this one thinks.

And then I found a small foam cut-out in the shape of heart near where I keep my coat. I've yet to grab it, but I know its still there.

Every little bit helps.

...

And then there's this.

Which is neat because I'll be flying into San Antonio for my Super Awesome Fun Texas Adventure vacation I will be taking at the end of the month.

Every little bit helps.

Friday, January 4, 2008

More Emoting and Babbling

I must retract my statements from last night concerning a certain airline company. At least as far as the nice email I received concerning my troubles with my debit card, which apparently has my old address, according to the Visa people that I had to call this morning. As well as calling the bank, and then the airline company.

Disaster averted.

Vacation on!

Now I just need to find some kind soul to take me to the airport and to pick my ass up upon my return.

...

Seriously, I nearly cried last night. At one point, throwing my hands up in the air, yelling at the ceiling... The one thing I desperately need, a break from my job, a break from my day to day routine, a break from the thoughts endlessly rolling round inside my head, these few marbles I got left up there...

On the other hand I thought it was finally time, finally despite all that's happened in the last four months, that finally I could bring myself to tears...

Its been so long since I've had a good cry, or a bad cry, or any at all...

I wanted to release so badly...

And then I made some dinner. Smoked a cigarette and settled down some, and even laughed a little.

Go figure.

...

Its getting easier. Every day, every day to day. Slowly but surely. Though February is the real test, the dark month, when winter is at its bleakest.

It does and doesn't help that its the slow season, when actual work becomes somewhat scarce, the hours I need dry up, and I find myself with too much time to think. Being stuck in a basement trying to come up with clever ways of wasting time, not to mention endlessly mulling over how so much time has passed, and all of the choices I've made in life... well, its a little trying on the soul.

I'm trying to keep my emoting and whining to a minimum here.

Really.

Its getting easier...

...

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Fear of a Credit Card Planet

Furious anger. I just spent the last two hours of my life attempting to purchase tickets online at a certain airline company's website. Thanks to something called Address Verification which from what I understand is supposed to verify the address at which one resides, but somehow no matter what combination of my address (which I'm pretty sure I know what it is, considering I live there) I enter into this thing, it simply does not register. Which is pretty nifty because it charges a dollar to my card each and every attempt, which I found out after I called my bank in order to verify my address with them, which is what the airline's website recommended I do if such an error occurred.

I really hope this wasn't some damn fool error on my part, considering that I went through the whole buying process a couple different times just to make sure.

Now I'm currently ticket-less and mucho pissed off.

So I sent them a scathing email, for all the possible good it will do.

...

On the other hand I purchased four new albums today thanks to the beauty of gift cards, which do not require address verification, and I'm listening to one Devendra Banhart, Rejoicing in the Hands. Which is probably the only thing keeping me from going utterly ape-shit. This album is fantastic, and gets the Gaius PC seal of approval.


...

Mad.

200 Gr8!

My New Years evening progressed as follows:

G. and I walked up to the pub for a beverage, considering they were still running their Monday night happy hour. Unfortunately they set up some kind of dance party in the party room that looked to be total lamesville, so we bailed and proceeded to the local dive bar to ring in the new year proper.

Which we did. I pulled the ye old Gaius "triple fist" which is trademarked, so don't even try to use that one, most of the evening which left me very inebriated. My vain hopes at securing a cheesy midnight kiss failed miserably. That's ok, those of you around for the year 2000 party held in the old Leavitt apartment will most certainly remember the two hour make out session I had, which thankfully was recorded on film for posterity.

Though my friend JB did manage to go up to a girl i had referred to earlier as "hot," unbeknownst to me, and invite her to talk to me because, and I quote, "he wants to take a picture of you touching his butt." She did wander over my way, and I found myself suddenly awkward and shy, and totally unable to really make conversation with her. Its good to know that after 29 years and a long term relationship that almost culminated in marriage, that I am still totally awkward and shy when it comes to women. Still got it!

...

As we left the bar, G. and I trudged through the newly fallen 10 inches of snow that wasn't there when we entered the bar, and made our way to a party down the street from our home. I don't remember much at this point, except drinking more, eating popcorn, and falling down on the kitchen floor. We then left said party, G. with half a bottle of scotch in hand, and I a single can of PBR in my pocket. Why? I don't know. Because it was there.

Then we watched Batman Begins, and I passed out.

Happy New Year!

...

Otherwise, I'm procrastinating doing various errands and chores, yet again. Although I did secure time off for the end of the month to finally take that vacation I desperately need and desire. Now I need to purchase tickets...