Tuesday, December 27, 2005

For someone I saw again at the bar not too long ago:

"Danke Schoen, darling Danke Schoen.
Thank you for seeing me again.
Though we go, on our seperate ways, still the memory stays, for always, my heart says, Danke Schoen.

Danke Schoen, Auf Wiedersehn, Danke Schoen."

Monday, December 26, 2005

Well Christmas went by as easily as could be expected. I had dinner with some friends and hung out at Cheers (of course). I got a cool box set of early electronic music from my roommate. Other than that, nothing to report.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

There's something funny about getting the Joys of Yiddish for a Christmas present.
“Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of children.” I made it through school, made it through college since my mother told me that is where I should be. She read to me every night since that’s where I needed to be. Her name means more to me than the hundreds of names that God has.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Thursday, December 15, 2005

I’m having a moral problem with my leather. I was given my leather jacket and I bought all my boots second-hand, but still. Perhaps I should donate them. I hope I don’t start feeling this way about wool, I wouldn’t have a single thing to wear.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

"Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?"
California just killed someone just a few hours after my sister brought another life into this cruel world.

Friday, December 09, 2005

As of today, London stopped running its red, double-decker busses. It seems funny that Las Vegas just started (non-red) double-deckers on the Strip routes.

Monday, December 05, 2005

heinrichvonbool: Catholic girls, man.
heinrichvonbool: You wish you had a ride like that
heinrichvonbool: Heh
tenebras23: heh
tenebras23: been there
tenebras23: done that, got the t-shirt, poster, patches, and VD
heinrichvonbool: yeah, I just have a low enough pillznbooze index that I can appreciate it more

Thursday, December 01, 2005

You are Cleopatra

Beautiful and Charming. You are able to persuade anyone to do anything you would like, because of your hotness and charisma. You are an expert in gaining power over anyone you choose.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com
In the past 30 years, the United States has killed 1000 people with the death penalty.

"Only China, Iran and Vietnam held more executions in 2004 than the United States, according to rights group Amnesty International."

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Damn, my guinea pigs are spoiled. I just fed them some pellets but they're still squealing. If they don't get romaine or tomatoes they bitch like they're dying.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Damn, my left earlobe is swollen, I have to get piggie food, I have to clean my bird cage, and I don't feel like leaving the apartment. Sometimes it doesn't pay to get out of bed.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

And just in case you were wondering what I'm listening to:

Boku wa ongaku ka
Dentaku katate ni
Tashi tari
Hii tari
Sosa shite
Sakkyoku suru
Kono botan oseba
Ongaku kanaderu

One more story, while I’m in the mood. My close friend J is finishing his under-graduate work at UNLV this term and leaving to study in Russia soon, so we want to get in as much time together as we can. I’ve known him since 1998 and he’s one of my closest companions. He wanted to cook some perogies and watch a DVD, perhaps have some wine. Sunflower Market was out of perogies so he got a feta-spinach quiche, a baguette, and some Beaujolais. That boy knows how to get in my pants quick. We put the quiche in the oven, opened the Beaujolais and started watching Sideways. I don’t watch much contemporary cinema, but this film is a treat.

The week before, I was at J’s mother’s house for a meeting of the philosophy club. A beautiful Austrian woman was there, engaging us all in discussion. She asked me what films I watch. Of course I go down the list of silent German Expressionist and experimental Russian pieces that I love so much, but she challenges me to name something I’ve like that’s been made in the last five years. It takes me a few moments, but I remember that I just went to see 2046 and Grizzly Man and actually liked those.

It’s better that the store was out of perogies, my sink is clogged and avoiding dishes is for the best right now. The landlord brought over some professional cleaner after the Drain-o I got didn’t do the job. He’ll call a plumber if that doesn’t work. The quiche comes in its own pan, no oil or frying, just a little time in the oven. The film happens to be about a wine lover, so we have to talk about the Beaujolais some. It becomes spicier as it airs out; we pretentiously describe the flavor as if we know what we’re talking about.

The film is wonderful; I’m surprised. Then again, J is the man that gave me my copy of Begotten. He’s one of the few people I really get along with, even if we don’t have much time to connect.

Okay so you have three stories; the mountain, babysitting, and Beaujolais. I hope that’ll keep for a few days; while I make some more stories happen.
Okay, I have some energy so I should recount a few more vignettes. Let’s start with babysitting. My honey needed some help with childcare for her twins and, since I’m unemployed, I thought it would be nice for me to help out and watch the little ones for a day so she could get some work done. It started out badly; I forgot what day it was and showed up on Tuesday instead of Wednesday. She was still happy to see me, of course. Instead, I went to Cheers and hung out with one of the bartenders that was off-duty. He bought me a few drinks (I tip well) and we played pool, talking about the Marine Corps, losing our virginity, and music. I got rather hammered then bussed home. She came over that night with the car so I didn’t have to bus again the next day. She was substitute teaching at a high school that was far away (and far from the bus line) and wouldn’t have the car so we had to leave my apartment very early. I brought my sleeping bag so I could sleep on the couch (it’s a long story) while she left and the children slept. Their father woke up (like I said, it’s a long story) at around 8:30 and the kids got up a little while later. Their father and I chatted for a few moments before he headed to work. I made sure I had work phone numbers and a meal plan. Well, by “meal plan” I mean “the kids will tell you when they’re hungry and what they want.” I still make it a point to ask the children if they’re hungry or if they need anything once an hour or so, just in case. They don’t need much supervision through the day unless they want to go outside. They know what channels have cartoons and only need minimal help getting to kid-friendly gaming sites online. There’s also a console game that the boy likes to play. I only have to referee if the girl wants a turn on something the boy is using. He listens when I tell him his turn is up, but sometimes pouts. I was taken aback at first, but it’s easy enough to deal with a pouting child; threaten the dread “time out” or a forced nap. As much as I despise the world outside, they insist on some play time. I allow them to take some toys and remind them to not wander too far. They already know the rules; they stay within my eyesight while I [although I shouldn’t in front of the kids] have a clove off to the side, far enough away that they won’t breathe in the smoke but close enough that I can be there if they hurt themselves or need anything. I let them stay outside for about an hour. I think that’s long enough, but they still wanted to be with their friends and jump up and down and make noise; all the things they can’t do inside. Feeding them was no chore. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cereal, juice, milk; children have simple appetites. For the most part, I lounged on the love seat, glancing at the computer screen and television to make sure they weren’t getting into anything they shouldn’t. They didn’t. I’m not sure what my great fear is; after all they’re just small people, glorious and beautiful as anything.

So far I’ve come by a second time to watch them, but I only have one story to tell of that adventure. My honey had come home and we were hanging out for a little while before I took the bus home. Her daughter likes close attention and was sitting on the couch between us, holding on to her mother [she holds on to me sometimes as well.] I casually started to quiz her on body parts. She identified her eyes, ears, and nose. I start to get more challenging; asking her the parts of the sole of her foot. I show her where the ball and flat of the foot are; I think she knew the heel already. I ask her where the ball of her foot is a half hour later and she remembered. She also remembered forehead, forearm, and the palm of her hand. I feel proud; like I’ve done something positive.

I waited until my honey got home before I had any beer; I didn’t even bring any with me. She’d promised the children some candy if they were good while I watched them so we walked to the store and got them some sweets and I got a few beers. Smiling after drinking those, I took the bus home, promising to watch them next week.
Now for the account of my Mount Charleston trip. After sleeping off the effects of the Bauhaus trip, my friend Chuck says “let’s go camping.” Of all things in the world, can you see me camping? He was leaving right at that moment, so I had to make a snap decision. I said yes without really knowing what I was getting myself in to. I haven’t been camping since I was in 5th grade or so, and then it was under strong protest. Chuck has two friends in from the Midwest someplace and they are used to camping so that’s what the plans are. I grab my sleeping bag and ice chest, hoping my leather jacket will be warm enough but not thinking far enough ahead to check the weather or anything useful like that. We get firewood and some small provisions from a gas station before heading up the mountain. Being such a homebody, I don’t even know where the mountain is. I’ve been to Lake Mead a handful of times with friends, but I don’t really leave this city unless it’s to go to Los Angeles or San Francisco. Okay so I suck, but I went anyway. Packed in the back of a van, we blaze a trail into the nothing. It was almost dark when we found a campground. It was technically closed, but there weren’t any gates or anything so we lit a fire and settled in at over 8000 feet. I had no idea we were going to be up so high or what the effects would be. Of course, I hadn’t eaten. From what I know now, you need to carb up before attempting those sorts of treks. After setting up the tent, we sat around the fire, just chatting for a few hours over some of Chuck’s home brew and some other booze we’d brought along. I started getting really cold and dizzy from the thin atmosphere. My companions talked about their camping in forty-below blizzards and such. “Insane” is all I can think of. In my frozen insanity, I think of my guinea pigs and bird, sitting at home alone in a nice seventy-degree town house. My cell phone only blinks “no signal” at me. I don’t remember going to sleep; but then I seldom do. Waking up, on the other hand, I remember all too clearly. I tried to drink some water, but I just threw it up. Puking is bad enough, but the freezing cold and altitude hammered in the brutality of the world that much more. We gathered some firewood. Firewood? What sort of world am I in? They pass around some bean soup, warmed by the fire. I wouldn’t normally have eaten, but they tell me this super secret that carbohydrates help with altitude sickness. A few bites in my stomach helps tremendously. A Hispanic family gets jostled early by some rangers. The rangers accuse them of setting up an illegal camp ground; the spot they picked wasn’t a part of the regular camp but had been put together long before that family picked the spot. Since the campground is technically closed we’re worried about getting a ticket as well so we make a rapid egress. Dizzy and still somewhat sick, the rapid decent back to the real world is overwhelming. They wanted me to go back today, but I declined. It’s probably even colder.

When I get around to it, I’ll write about my adventures in babysitting for my honey, the clogged sink, and then last night’s adventure in Beaujolais and quiche with an old friend.

Monday, November 14, 2005

I feel tired. It’s been a stressful two weeks. I became unemployed just before Halloween, just before I wanted to go see Bauhaus. I decided to go anyways. It’s a long, stressful drive for someone that doesn’t like being in cars, but I really wanted to go. My friend Ava picked me up in the rental car in the morning and we headed off. She was happy to get away for the weekend. We didn’t yet have a hotel so we had to leave as early as possible. Of course we stopped at the Mad Greek; something of a ritual on my last trips. The falafel was somewhat dry this time, disappointing, but at least the beer hit the spot. Instead of just taking I15 to I10, we took some other route that skirted San Bernardino and most of that gridlocked mess of I10 west. We didn’t hit much traffic until I10 becomes 101, where those murals grace the steep walls surrounding the freeway. I brought along a case full of 80s mix CDs that make the time go by quickly.

Exiting the freeway, we start looking for the Wiltern. It’s an easy target. We have a few hours to find a hotel, and that was also an easy target. We found the Dunes Inn about a mile away from the venue. The man has problems with my ID. It won’t scan and doesn’t light up right under the black light. When he sees my less freaky companion, he lets us get a room anyway. I guess I should know better than to get a hotel in LA wearing a camo bandana, BDUs, a black wife beater, and a leather jacket. He probably thought I was a junky. We unpack and relax for a while. I walk out for some beer. Not the right neighborhood for this, since I have to walk about a mile before I find a supermarket. Grabbing some Newcastle and some cheap bourbon, I head for the line. The woman in front of me is buying some exotic produce and the cashier has trouble ringing it up. “That’s what you get for eating healthy,” I quip. She smiles and, noting my shopping, says “I guess I should know better, I like your plan better.” I should have brought my backpack; carrying a 12 pack a mile can be tiring. I have to enter the hotel through the lobby and the man who’d checked us in sees my haul. He half-smiles and I shrug as I head for the room. We drink some and prepare for the evening. My companion used to work at a make-up counter and does my make-up for me.

She has trouble walking, but I much prefer to walk than drive the mile and pay for parking. The walk really isn’t that bad; I mean she has to walk that far for some classes at UNLV I’m sure. She’d forgotten to print out the Ticketmaster confirmation, but there is no problem at the will-call booth. They didn’t even frisk us. This venue is so much better than the Palladium. It’s beautiful and spacious inside and security is relaxed. There is no opening band, like the time I saw them in ’98, but unlike that time we didn’t have to wait until midnight for them to come on. They are amazing musicians. Two men sitting beside us are over-enthusiastic. They were older than I am but hadn’t managed to see Bauhaus before. I guess I’m lucky that this was my 3rd time seeing them.

After the show lets out, we spill out into the streets with the rest of the mob; like rats leaving a sinking ship I suppose. She’s hungry and we stop at some Chinese restaurant and gets some beef soup or something nasty like that. No kisses for you till you brush your teeth.

The next day, we check out and head for LACMA. She’s from the Palm Springs area but hasn’t made it to many museums. There’s a King Tut exhibit, but after a friend gave it some negative reviews, we decide to skip it and just go to the regular exhibits. I am sad that the sculpture garden is closed, but we still enjoy seeing the outdoor tar pits in the sprawling park surrounding the museum. I show her some of my favorite pieces. “Satan” still sits there; defeated, holding his head in one hand and a broken sword in the other. I think they should devote a whole building to Frida Kahlo. Weeping Coconuts is such an amazing piece. The netsuke and Asian prints are cool since she’s taking an Asian lit class. I give a small lecture about Magdalene with the Smoking Flame to two men. How pretentious can I get? I’d make a decent docent; too bad I’m a poor poet. I wish the Magritte piece was on public view. We don’t go through the whole museum since we still have to drive home, but I think we got most of the important stuff in.

On the drive home, I have something of a panic attack. My stomach knots up and I get dizzy. Did I mention I don’t like being in cars? We get stuck in traffic about halfway home and got to sit still for almost 15 minutes. That wasn’t fun, but we made it.

I’ll write up the next weekend’s trip to Mount Charleston later.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Ugh. Going up Mount Charleston made me kinda sick, just as I was about to give you a nice recount of the Bauhaus show, remarks about job hunting, and spin some on my love life. Maybe tomorrow.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Mostly functioning loaner computer is hooked up and I just got back from seeing Bauhaus and LACMA. More to come tomorrow.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Still no computer and they've locked down access at work. A lot has happened; fights, friends coming back into my life, money problems, and good beer. Just remember that Love is the Law.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

My computer blew up. Not sure if it's the processor or the motherboard, but I can't get into the BIOS without it locking, if I even get that far. So much for saving some cash for the Bauhaus show.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Sorry about this long delay. 10 whole days without posting. I've just been watching the news (since it's such a heavy news cycle), dealing with a ton of changes everywhere, and having some beer.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Meanwhile, in the WTF catagory, Roman Polanski is coming out with a version of Oliver Twist. "Boy for sale!"

Sunday, September 11, 2005

The new Werner Herzog film is showing in Las Vegas this week (and only this week) but the theater that's showing it is more than 17 miles from where I live and not very bus accessible. So lame.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Random musician joke of the day:

Drummers have the rhythm in their blood. Bass players usually have only alcohol in theirs.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Justice Rehnquist has just passed. Justice Day-O'Conner is leaving her office. Dubya gets to appoint two new Justices, one of them the Chief Justice. This is damage that will not be repaired in my generation, nor reapired as long as I will be alive.

Monday, August 29, 2005

I just found out that Peter Will, a very talented musician from Bakersfield, passed away. The band I was in often shared gigs with his band; they were always fun.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Word of the day:

ves·i·cant Pronunciation Key (vs-knt)
A blistering agent, especially mustard gas, used in chemical warfare.

Causing blisters.
Just for the record, Pat Robertson needs his head examined. We knew this already, but now he calls for the execution of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez as if Pat has the hand of god to smite with. Who knows, maybe he thinks he does.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Robert Moog, the guy responsible for the Moog synth and a bunch of other neat toys, passed away. I guess I'll play Switched on Bach over some wine tonight.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

"Well, after this I should think nothing of falling down stairs!"

Saturday, August 13, 2005

I'm getting ready to attend a wedding for the first time. I'm not sure if I should wear my cool 70s brown suit or just slacks and a tie.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

My last week of work and I get to attend my first wedding on next Saturday; this should be an interesting week.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

I suppose it's only fitting that after the death of 3/4ths of the original Ramones lineup that the place they were born and probably called home, CBGB's, will probably close soon. In a hint of irony, the owner mentioned Las Vegas as places to bail to. I thought punk was a reaction against the plasticity of this town. Then again, perhaps he could revive the Huntridge. That would be sweet.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

I started my day off with a sports drink instead of the coffee I've been having for a week or two. Now I have a splitting headache from caffine withdrawls. Grr.

Monday, August 01, 2005

Okay, I think it's time we just bought all of Russia's subs. Two dead in an explosion near Severodvinsk.

Sunday, July 31, 2005

"Love, and do what you like" -Augustine of Hippo, tractatus VII,8
Walking to the store for some beer yesterday, we saw the aftermath of a semi-vs-pickup collision. Didn't get to see any blood, tho'.

Saturday, July 30, 2005

There is a 10th planet. So much for astrology.
I almost feel like abandoning this forum. I could never make it as a writer, my energy is too low and I have no discipline.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

A day off; two, in fact. I plan on cleaning and decorating my bedroom and the adjoining spare room that seems to have become my refuge. We had planned on using this spare room as a common space, but it's becoming more my computer room for the moment. My housemates spend more time in the livingroom. In job hunting news, I got a call from a call center I applied at; they said I'd be promoted right out of training. This is going to be an interesting month.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Not much to report. I've had a few interviews, watched a few films, and stayed up way too late drinking with a sweet woman.

Sunday, July 24, 2005

From Advocate.com:

“The prosecution has concluded its case in the Northern California murder trial of three men accused of killing a transgender teenager. Jason Cazares, Jose Merel, and Michael Magidson, all 25, are charged with first-degree murder in the death of 17-year-old Gwen Araujo.”

I’ve been following this trial since it started and I hope all three are convicted.
Father visited yesterday. It was pleasant, without drama. I think we’re finally coming to understand each other. On the bad side of things, it’s raining cats and dogs. It’s a good thing I have pops’ old tropical weight trench.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

On September 9, 1950, a laugh track was first used on broadcast television show.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Today is a bad, bad day. Yesterday was cool, tho'. Got to hang out with friends; got to watch Godard's Breathless.
Ian Curtis would have turned 49 yesterday. I got very drunk.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

It's too damn hot. I got a ride to my interview, so it wasn't so bad, even if the car has no AC.
Today is Bastille Day. I should celebrate with some cheese and wine while watching À bout de souffle or Jules et Jim. Maybe le Mépris instead.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Grr. AC is out in the apartment and it's over 110 outside. Probably 90 and more humid inside. Landlord (private owner) is at work but he called some place that should be out here tonight or tomorrow morning. On the plus side, I have two interviews tomorrow! It's a hassle, I know, but I need to stay positive about this. Okay, I'm gonna take my shirt off and drink some wine now.
"Libro e moschetto - fascista perfetto"

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Sunday, July 10, 2005

As bombs rip apart half the globe, a sense of normalcy begins to settle in. After work, I unpack and clean; soon this house will be a home. I go downstairs where my roommates are watching some infernal noise on MTV. Contemplating preparing something resembling food, I ask if they are hungry. “I can eat something, what were you planning on cooking?” Forgetting that I bought rice and spinach, I thought of a potato and lentil soup, adding carrots, celery, onion, and garlic. B has a nice, large cutting board but my knives are sorely lacking. The kitchen is small, cramped, but I have to make due using the washer and dryer tops as extra counter space. It takes over an hour to prepare the soup so I join my companions in watching some television. The Live 8 concert is on. I ignore most of the lineup but Bjork comes on at one point, adding some cohesion to our attentions. As the soup finishes cooking, I lay out some cloth napkins and ceramic bowls on the table. B and I share some wine while C has some diet soda. We change the show to Jeopardy; I get most of the clues. As C gets up from the table, I joke: “Did you ask to be excused?” Catching the joke, B asks to be excused as she gets up a few moments later. I finish the bottle of wine and have a few shots of Jager. I wind up puking at about 8pm. I haven’t vomited in a while, but I have to go to sleep early and misjudged how much alcohol I need to knock me out. Feeling sick, I resort to putting the handle of my toothbrush down my throat to trigger my gag reflex. My expulsion is bright red from the merlot; in a panic I think my insides are dissolving. Regardless, I manage to find my way to the land of Nod. [From Genesis 4: 15 And the LORD said unto him, Therefore whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold. And the LORD set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should kill him. 16 And Cain went out from the presence of the LORD, and dwelt in the land of Nod, on the east of Eden.] In such a drunken slumber, I don’t remember my dreams; I only remember my alarm (for now on the buzzer to make sure I get up. I can’t stand the buzzer; I prefer to be gently woken by some inoffensive sythpop.) East of Eden, indeed; even Nuit turns her eyes.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Here is a blog post from a guy that was on his way to work in London just before they blew his train up. That's what I call a crappy day.
Am I the only one that's been singing the Smiths' "Panic" the last few days?

"Panic on the streets of London
Panic on the streets of Birmingham
I wonder to myself
Could life ever be sane again ?"

Friday, July 08, 2005

Thursday, July 07, 2005

In the better news department, I lined up an interview for a position doing about what I'm doing now but at $42k/year. I make about $28k now. Fear me!

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

In the good news department, I can finally fit into the cheerleading outfit I got like two years ago! I'm so going clubbing this week.

Monday, July 04, 2005

You are dependable, popular, and observant.
Deep and thoughtful, you are prone to moodiness.
In fact, your emotions tend to influence everything you do.

You are unique, creative, and expressive.
You don't mind waving your freak flag every once and a while.
And lucky for you, most people find your weird ways charming!

Sunday, July 03, 2005

So shortly after my coffee table broke, one of my glass top end tables also broke. I cried for some time. It felt like the nest that I've slowly tried to build myself since graduating college was falling apart around me. Perhaps I'm too attached to my things. Perhaps I'm just too attached to things that don't matter that much (like furnature.) Either way, it really made for a bad night last night.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Scheduled my first job interview. It's a bit far out, but I'll live.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Spent my first night at the new place. I got almost everything out of storage, I just have my music and tables (glass top) to move from there and some clothes and my computer to move from Bridget's. I'll have that done in a day or two. My friend Chuck is being such a doll, helping out with his dad's truck. Everyone else is being wonderful, getting me drunk or giving me rides or whatever. I hope to have everything settled by Friday. From there everything should be cake. Thanks to everyone.

Friday, June 24, 2005

Bridget's bird is out of it's cage and decided to perch on my shoulder. I feel like a pirate. Arrr.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Yesterday was summer solstice. The slow march towards winter, I can't wait. Perhaps after my gig with the townhouse is over I'll finally break my bonds and flee towards a more mild climate.
Found a townhouse with two friends. Life on the couch will be over Friday night.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Okay I played around with my template a little and changed the comments to Blogger's native ones. All the old comments are kinda hosed, but oh well.

In the good news area, we looked at a townhouse that might work out for us. It's a little farther away from the college district than I'd like, but only by about a mile. There are some stores nearby so it won't suck too bad. We should know tonight if we get it.
Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

I woke up at about noon and took a long, hot bath. There is a large tub here, in the master bath. The nights my host spends at her boyfriend's, I get the master bedroom and bathe just as soon as I wake up. It will take a long time before I'm able to return to my comfortable routine, but most of my readers will understand how important this small bit of luck is to my sanity.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Too much to write about. I'm mostly comfortable where I'm staying, I even went to Fry's for a referbished wireless router and card so I can get online on my computer in the livingroom. Of course I have a wired router and a wireless gateway, but they're packed away at the moment so I blew the $40 or whatever on a new (well referb) one. Not a bad investment. Of course I wound up walking all the way to the store (like 3 or 4 miles away) since the Sunset bus sucks choad. I'm going to try to get my chair out of storage later so I can be a little more comfortable in front of it. Today I woke up way late, but it's not that important I guess. I'll be back on a mid shift starting tomorrow. I want to thank everyone that's helped or given me good wishes, I'll need it all the next few weeks.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Mostly moved. Lost a bookcase and some meaningless dishes. I hurt like hell.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Okay, this is the day. Everything has to be moved and some of it still isn't packed. Fucking hell.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Isaiah 36:12

But Rabshakeh said, Hath my master sent me to thy master and to thee to speak these words? hath he not sent me to the men that sit upon the wall, that they may eat their own dung, and drink their own piss with you?
And the first load is away. Just a few valuables that my future roommate took for me so they wouldn't get damaged, but it's a start.
Okay, storage unit reserved, about halfway between my crash space and my (until the end of July) work. I hope a 10'x10' will be big enough. If not, I hope they have something larger still. I have to pack my clothes, a few dishes, some small odds and ends, then get to Albertson's, BofA, and the pet store. Tomorrow is going to suck salty balls.
Almost done packing. I am fucking numb. Managed to purge some shit, still have to reserve a storage unit but the only phone in the house is locked in a bedroom right now. Grr.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

So this place I lived at in 2002 says I owe them a grand. This means I can't rent an apartment. I don't like life at the moment.
Okay now I'm just screwed. Anyone want to rent me a UHaul?

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Applied at the same complex, I'll know Tuesday if I get it. This is going to be rough, but wish me luck. Oh, and bring me booze. Housewarming party June 10th if everything works.

Saturday, May 28, 2005

Comments seem to be broken. IM me at tenebras23 (AIM) or email me tenebras@cox.net

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Okay, further updates will be even more sporadic for the next few weeks. I have to find someplace to live by the end of the month.
Okay, this is a start. I promise to finish soon.

It’s been a long time, I know, but I’ve been busy getting drunk and getting laid. The usual, one might say. So here’s the low down on the Coachella trip. I should have been taking notes, or at least written this two weeks ago so please forgive any poetic license.

Friday night; a friend from Bakersfield is coming in to town and of course I forget. Luckily, I’d left AIM open with an away message telling people I was at Cheers. Not having a phone can sometimes make it difficult to find me. Well, not really, I'm usually at home or at the bar. My friends find me at the bar and take me to their place. I wasn’t sure what time I was getting picked up Saturday morning so my main object was to get piss drunk and pass out on the couch.

I hadn’t seen Aaron in quite some time. Once, a long time ago, we hung out on almost a daily basis. He lived (and probably still lives) with his parents and just wanted someplace to hang out, drink, and watch porn. I’m usually good at providing such a space. We spend a few hours catching up and getting buzzed before he drives me home. Of course I’d totally forgotten to pack so in a mad rush I threw some things in my bag and packed some CDs in my binder. I grabbed a few extra outfits since I never quite know what I want to wear. I manage to pass out on the couch, leaving the door unlocked since I know it’ll take a lot to wake my ass up.

My friends arrive Saturday morning, not bothering to knock since I’d told them I’d be passed out on the couch. We grabbed my gear and headed to I15 for the high speed burn across the desert. There were four of us, the happy couple in the front, myself and someone even more jaded and depressed next to me. The two of us had significantly more luggage than the happy couple. Crazy Goths, I swear. I should have planned a little better and grabbed some bourbon to mix with soda but somehow I managed anyway. We make the traditional stop in Baker for some grub and a beer at the Mad Greek. I had some good falafel and a Mythos (Greek beer). My companions eat more regularly than I do so I wind up eating with them. We wanted to get to the venue in time to see Perry Farrell’s set but we’d left too late and still had to drive through Palm Springs to get to the hotel. The hotel is quite nice, nicer than I’m used to. The happy couple is somewhat spoiled. Last year, by comparison, (with a different happy couple) I spent a night in the car. This year, we had a refrigerator, two large beds, decent television, and the rest. After scraping off a layer of dirt, we head the 30 or so miles to Indio.
We passed by my high school, just able to see the top of a new building from the recess of I10. Towns that used to be nothing more than a trailer and a gas station have become vapid stretches of strip malls and car worship. Outside of San Bernardino and Palm Springs the only way you can tell what city you’re in is by the new street signs proudly proclaiming the city name just below the street name. The older towns haven’t bothered replacing the large, green signs so endemic to Southern California just a decade ago.
Driving along what I can only guess was once Route 66, I see melted Eisenhower dreams strewn across once barren landscape waiting for the second coming. Just outside of Beatty, Nevada lay the remnants of a once prosperous mining community founded on the dreams of some rock named Rhyolite. Here, just outside Los Angeles lays the embryo of a William Gibson-style Sprawl ready to eat everything in its path. I wonder how similar the two will look in a hundred years; rusted out carcasses of food tins and camping stoves; crude graffiti painted over fragmented memories of something that once mattered.
We stop for some beer before we hit Indio. Buying alcohol after midnight in such locations is difficult at best and I wanted to be certain I'd have some in the hotel later. Dodging the oversized tanks preferred by the locals, we make it into a market. Someone passes us as we walk from the car, noting, "You must be either coming to or leaving from Coachella." Right; four people in their early 30s wearing too much makeup and chips on our shoulders. No way could we be locals. I grab some Guinness, bourbon, and something sweeter for the lone biological female in our group.

My companions are worried that the parking is going to be difficult. From my experience the year before it wasn't that bad, but others had complained. We almost miss the turn off the main drag to the polo field; we'd forgotten to print out the directions. I have some vague memory of the street name and we luck in the right direction. Even if I don't drive, I've been in cars enough the past decade to have some idea about traffic and directions. I try to pay attention sometimes.

The event is just as I remember from last year; the toilets and tents are in the same places. The weather is nicer, this time around.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Sunday, April 24, 2005

God I hate to quote Billy Joel, but here we go:

"Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinking alone"
Coachella is this weekend, I can't wait.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

I really don't remember very much from the past few days. I'm not sure if this is good or bad.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

High on Xanax and drunk, we had "that talk" last night. I'm not sure how I feel; lonley, depressed, angsty.

Friday, April 15, 2005

Wow, no posts. I've been exhausted. I'm making some soup with carrot, leek, and barley. It should be yum. I'm missing everyone, drinking some merlot, and watching MASH. Time for a wistful sigh.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

In Annie Hall, why does Alvy mock Sylvia Plath's tragic suicide while all he reads about are the most tragic deaths? Is it since he wouldn't join any club that would want him as a member? Must he reject the things he really cares about?
From an interview with Moby:

"I'm sure anyone who's ever had to take food stamps to go to the supermarket to buy cigarettes for their mom knows what I'm talking about. It's embarrassing. You live in that constant state where you don't really want people to pay attention to you, because you're afraid if they pay attention to you, they're going to see how inadequate you are."

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

mal·aise n.

A vague feeling of bodily discomfort, as at the beginning of an illness.
A general sense of depression or unease: “One year after the crash, the markets remain mired in a deep malaise” (New York Times)

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Adding on to that quote from a few days ago, something from Annie Hall: "Annie and I broke up. And I still can't get my mind around that. You know, I keep sifting the pieces of the relationship through my mind, and examining my life and trying to figure out where did the screwup come, you know. A year ago, we were in love, you know"
Sunday night, we watched Ichi the Killer. That has to be the most fucked Japanese film I've seen since Tetsuo.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

There's something about waking up next to someone that *really* makes you not want to go to work.

Saturday, April 02, 2005

“Oh, it’s such a perfect day.”

She called in sick yesterday; having not felt well for a few days. I emailed her just after I woke up, sometime around 11am. We had planned on going thrifting when she got off work but she’d left in such a huff the night before I wasn’t sure what to expect. Perhaps I’m too sensitive. I cleaned for a few hours; even scrubbing my bathroom. She’d called into work so we hung out sooner than I’d expected. I’d had some other loose plans but I blew them off. I should have at least done laundry and cleaned my guinea pig cage. We started our shopping spree at the Goodwill on Maryland near Tropicana. It sucks; far too small and way overpriced. I got a Dilbert book, a tea kettle, and of all things a blue paper Chinese lantern. Mainly I need another pair of slacks for work, but oh well. From there, she got some Taco Bell. Rather than walking in to the restaurant for a small respite from the warm day, she goes through the drive through and pulls over near the Ultimate Electronics across the street to eat. She got a cheese quesadilla and a double-decker taco. There was a time when I ate a lot of Taco Bell but now I have no appetite for it. She drenches her food in that flavorless hot sauce and vacuums it down quickly. I don’t remember if I ate the day before or not, but I’m not hungry. She grabs my slightly trembling hands and tells me to eat. I will later, I tell her. We head to the next thrift store, the Savers on Pecos and Tropicana. They have a better supply of clothes, but I can’t find any slacks that fit me. I did find some nice overalls (a work uniform for some elevator repair company!) and a few shirts, however. We decide to go back to her place to drink some and watch some DVDs. I rented a Guy Maddin DVD with Twilight of the Ice Nymphs, Archangel, and a short called the Heart of the World, a Herzog film called Aguirre: the Wrath of God, and a Japanese film called Uzumaki. We start with Aguirre since we’d seen most of it the night before. I really love that film. After that we switched to the first of the Guy Maddin films. He’s very experimental. I begin to feel slightly dizzy and assume that means I should eat something. We leave for a place on Maryland and Tropicana (again) called Macayo’s. It’s a passable Mexican-ish place. A bit plain and over-priced but it’ll serve my needs. I’ve only been there once or twice but I remembered their California Burrito is edible and my companion can indulge her meat fetish. The beer selection leaves something to be desired and I had to settle on a Negra Modelo. Instead of the burrito I get a vegetarian fajita. She gets some sampler plate with miniature tacos and other amusing hors d’oeuvres. I must have overestimated my hunger and didn’t finish much of the fajitas. She mentioned something about not having much cash so I pay. It was only about $25 with tip, so it didn’t break the bank. I feel something of an anxiety attack and ask to go back to my place. I hang up the paper lantern in my room and we chill for a few moments before going back to her place. It doesn’t matter much to me which apartment we go to. I take something for the anxiety and we watch the second Maddin film over some Trivial Pursuit. She won for the second time in a row. I don’t mind loosing from time to time. I completely lost track of time and have no idea what time we went to sleep. She woke up long enough to give me a ride to work, which was nice. We still have to watch Uzumaki so maybe we’ll hang out again tonight.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Hell. I just noticed that one of the bells fell off my friendship bracelet. I feel like I've lost a part of me.
Monday night we watched an odd horror film called May. I really didn't know anything about it and was somewhat reluctant to sit through it, but being in the company of a woman I relented to her desires. It wouldn't have been polite to insist on Blade Runner or Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS after all. I don't think it is particularly well-written or well-acted but it does have a certain visceral attraction. It moves too slowly without the emotional payoff of something like Tenderness of the Wolves or Kinski's Nosferatu. The film does make some good meta-cinematic points (the blind kids not being able to see what's in the glass box) and despite feeling like it was stretched 20 minutes too long, I got some enjoyment out of it.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

I just traded Jenny some Goat Milk for a jar of my lentil soup. She's cool like that.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

I just picked an earlier shift at work so I can hang out with someone more often. That's just frightening. I hate mornings.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

We watched the Man Who Wasn't There last night. I'm not really a Coen Brothers fan but this one is rather good.

Friday, March 25, 2005

For the quote file: "There's a fine line between tortured romantic and sad bastard, get over her."

Thursday, March 24, 2005

In the news today, Bobby Fischer is free and safe in Iceland. He looks haggard and spent. I hope now he can stop running and free himself from the traps his brain has made him.

Also, Kyrgyzstan became the third former Soviet nation to have a civil uprising tear down its government. I wonder how long it will be before Russia reigns in her troublesome children.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

"This one a long time have I watched. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph. Adventure. Heh! Excitement. Heh! A Jedi craves not these things. You are reckless!"
"Valerie Loves Me" is stuck in my head. All those 80s songs about unrequited love and tender affections make me cry.
"It's a bloody mary morning"

Monday, March 21, 2005

Watched Female Trouble for the first time in a while last night. I miss having the entire John Waters collection laying around.
John Zachary DeLorean died.

Sunday, March 20, 2005

Lentil soup is yummy goodness. I made it with carrots, potatoes, garlic, onions, tomatoes, and bay leaves. I think I should have put in celery and maybe more, smaller cut potatoes. I made way too much, tho', almost 5 quarts worth. Even if my roommate and guests eat some it'll still last more than a week.

Saturday, March 19, 2005

Philip Morris is buying Sampoerna for $5.2 billion. I really hope this doesn't affect the cigarettes. Xtras were reformulated not to long ago anyway; they aren't nearly as good as they used to be.
Oh, and I actually asked someone on a "date" of all things. We're going to see Moby. My ideal date usually consists of sitting on the couch with a 12 pack of Newcastle, some German cinema, and maybe a pizza. I'd go to this concert by myself, so it isn't too much of a streach for me.
Where does all the time go? It seems the more I hang out with people, the less time I devote to journaling and digesting the importance of events.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Played the 90s edition of Trivial Pursuit last night over some Natural Light and L'Age d'or. I'm such a geek.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Being broke sucks. Last night, I finished the bottle of mezcal that my friend Mat left on New Year's Eve and Ian got two 40s of Mickey's. I think I might have enough cloves to last through tonight. At least I get paid tomorrow night, so I just need someone to get me drunk tonight.

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

mo·nog·a·my - n.
1. The practice or condition of having a single sexual partner during a period of time.
Damn, Cocteau Twins backed out of Coachella. Still get to see NIN and Bauhaus, tho'.

Monday, March 14, 2005

Okay, so we managed to avoid the cable getting cut off, managed to get enough cash for a few packs of smokes, had a friend come over with beer (Guinness and 8 Ball Stout, no less), and I'm eating a baked potato. If I can just get around to cleaning the guinea pig cage just about everything would be fine. Well, maybe if my schedule more closely matched that of someone I've been hanging out it'd be better.
Early this morning on the corner of Rock Springs Dr and Smoke Ranch, a drunk driver in a Ford Explorer jumped a curb and smashed into a bus stop. Three people were killed and a fourth is in critical condition.
Wow, still quiet. Saturday night, I went over to a friend’s for a while. Well, I actually spent the night, but whatever. We watched Roman Polanski’s Repulsion. Catherine Deneuve is really attractive; or rather was really attractive. I think she was better in Belle de jour, but this film is still quite something.

Saturday, March 12, 2005

“Dinner and a movie” last night consisted of Fritz Lang’s M, some awful film called Cube Zero, and some Taco Bell. Well that and some cheap ass beer and Trivial Pursuit. Quite the active lifestyle, I must say.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

I've been quiet here; busy living life instead of writing about it. I'll try to get some gorey details down soon.

Monday, March 07, 2005

Sunday, March 06, 2005

She picks me up after work. It’d begun to rain again, so I’m happy for the respite from the bus. I’d emailed her the night before and, responding after I got to work, we’d decided to hang out this evening. I was expecting to go to my place, but I think she has different ideas. She was hanging out with my roommate until he blew her off in a rather indifferent, callus way so my place might have been too awkward, even if my roommate was probably elsewhere so we choose to go to her place. We stop by Albertson’s for some beer. She wants some “light” beer; to avoid a beer gut but I insist on something less inane. I can’t afford much so I get a 12 pack of Pabst. PBR isn’t that bad for cheap beer; it’s probably the best of the mass market piss beers. The cashier tells us that the Goth look is going well for us and that 6 beers each won’t be enough. She says I don’t look anywhere near 30. She’s correct about the beer, of course, but I wasn’t expecting to stay up as late as we did. There is a security guard near the entrance of her apartment complex. The gates haven’t been working for some reason and the bourgeois paranoia has set in on some of the residents. She hurls some slurs at the fast food fattened goons she calls neighbors as we slosh through the rain to her door. She and her roommate have a selection of board games; so quaint in this day of high powered personal computers and LAN parties. She has the same edition of Trivial Pursuit as I do (Genus IV) and we begin with that. I think it might be time to buy the 6th edition. She also has a few other games I enjoy. If I’d known I was coming over earlier in the day I would have brought my dominoes (uh, and a change of clothes.) I definitely would have brought a change of clothes. Since I hadn’t known I was going anywhere after work, I was wearing my dorky bulky black sweater over a white Microsoft tee-shirt that we’d gotten a box of when Service Pack II came out. We drink a bit faster than I realize and have to return for some more beer and cloves. She smokes Djarum Blacks, I smoke Sampoerna X-tras, but I have to settle for Djarum Specials, the least desirable of the brands since this store has such a small selection. Returning to her place, we switch to Scattergories; a game I’ve never played before. She’s okay at Trivial Pursuit but I’d won two games in a row and it was time for something else. It’s refreshing to be able to play this game with someone I won’t completely fucking massacre. Scattergories is a little more difficult for me. You roll a die to determine a letter and then have a limited time to think up words that begin with that letter to fit in pre-determined categories. I’m good at crossword puzzles, but not so good at this one or Scrabble. Lateral thinking problems are always more complex. Perhaps I’ll get better. The time flew quickly; it was nearly 4 AM when I glanced at the clock. I try to aim for 2ish for bedtime, but this won’t kill me. It’s too late and we’re too drunk to drive me home, so of course I opt to stay. I haven’t slept in someone else’s bed in a while. Well, plenty of fun I have to say.

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Too much to deal with; conflicting emotions, booze, narcotic analgesics and acetaminophen mix poorly on the stomach. I went to the bar last night and wound up puking halfway through my first beer. It was too crowded anyway and the only person I wanted to hang out with wasn’t around. I’m not sure what to expect from that anyway. She comes and goes like an outdoor cat. My birthday was quiet most of the day. We forgot to make the small dolls like we’d planned, but I was stuck in a torpor anyway. A band played at the club, but I was too stupid to really listen to much of anything. I got dropped off at about 2 and just went to sleep, alone. Same time next week?
I don't like myself today.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

I can already tell that being 30 is gonna suck. I guess I'll have to wait for 32. (That's a magical number, for those in the audiance.)

Monday, February 28, 2005

Last night was probably the first time I've managed to keep my pants on when faced with extreame temptation. Lucky me?

Sunday, February 27, 2005

Saturday, February 26, 2005

She begins wrapping her dreads in purple and black embroidery thread. I notice some discards and begin braiding three strands, making it just long enough to tie around her wrist, near the white “blessing” strand she received for the Lunar New Year. She smiles and makes me a bracelet as well, tying in two small bells.
Long, lost weekend.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Jesus, tornadoes in Southern California. The sky is falling, the world is ending.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Too much Throbbing Gristle and white wine.

"I'm hot on the heels of love
Waiting for help from above"

Saturday, February 19, 2005

The California Aqueduct, at almost 450 miles in length, is the longest river in California. It is entirely lined with concrete.
“Words as weapons, sharper than knives.”

I’m off Thursdays and Fridays now. This was the first time that Michelle stayed over on my days off. Last week she was in San Diego over those days. She came over on Wednesday night, I think. The days blend into one another. On Thursday, I woke up at about 11:00 and did some cleaning while she slept. She sleeps a lot, like 12 hours a day. My apartment was trashed from so much beer, cooking, and laziness. I spend about 3 hours taking out empty bottles (I really wish there were recycling facilities nearby) and dusting. She woke up about three hours later. We started drinking some wine and chatting. She passes out at about 21:00, after we demolished quite a bit of chardonnay. White wine is nasty. Awake for just a few hours and she’s already out of it. I wake her up at about midnight to check on her and we go back to the living room. Friday is about the same, with the addition of a viewing of Ju Dou. Being half Chinese, she’s seen a few Zhang Yimou films, but not this one. I don’t think this one is quite as good as Red Sorghum or Raise the Red Lantern, but it’s still good. Before it comes on, she asks if it’s a “woman’s film”. I don’t think she meant “chick flick” so I said yes, it is. It’s about a rather manipulative woman trying to get out of an abusive relationship. Zhang’s use of red and yellow is somewhat heavy handed but still wonderful (unfortunately the DVD is pan and scan, but it’s the only version that’s available.) We wind up at Cheers where we run into some casual friends and eat some nachos from Roberto’s. I felt bad about abandoning her for a few games of pool, but she had some company to talk to so it wasn’t so bad. When we got home, we started a more serious conversation. Relationships are always strange. No definite “rules of engagement” (to borrow a military phrase) have been established. I don’t know what to expect or what she wants. It goes okay; we come out of it unscathed. She was still there when I left for work tonight, so we’ll see what’s up later.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

They sold the ring that Aristotle engaged Jackie with at auction. The Kennedys are dead. Camelot is dead. Long Live the King.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

I actually went out of my stomping grounds last night, all the way to Pounders. It was like Sanctuary used to be with Dan and Kat, Russell and Alexis, and John and Jamai all sitting around bullshitting. I miss that.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

I found a ride to the Coachella Festival; a ride with two close [albeit recently too busy to hang with much of anyone] friends. I wasn’t seriously worried about finding a ride since I know there are other people going that way and, if worse came to worse, I could stay with a college friend near there and still make it via Greyhound. This way is the most reliable and least stressful.
Rolling Stone has an article about Gwen Araujo.

Friday, February 11, 2005

Vladimir: Well, shall we go?
Estragon: Yes, let's go.
They do not move.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

"The passion of lovers is for death said she"
I'm a Trendy City Faggot!

I'm a Trendy City Faggot! I am better than you. My clothing is better, I am more sophisticated, I smell better, taste better, look better, and feel better. What’s more, I snigger into my macchiato at other faggot stereotypes, because they are all so tragically simple. God why can’t I get laid?

What kind of Faggot are you?
Brought to you by Pushing Through

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

She sits in front of my computer talking on Ian’s phone as I walk in from work; an empty bottle of merlot and a full ash tray in front of her. I wish I could have stayed home and enjoyed this small bacchanalia. She asks me if I’m alright; as if I have a reason to be upset. I’m confused at first (I’m just quiet for a moment is all) but I think I understand now why she asked. “You’re going to the store with me.” I say this line flatly, coldly. I spend most of my day dealing with people in a passionless, dismissive manner and I realize too late my mistake. Actually, it could have worked also as a joke. When she’s changed and put on her boots we approach the door. I peck her on the cheek and say “Honey, I’m home” to lighten the mood. Snapping into character, she replies “How was work?” I want to quote Heathers, the scene where Big Bud Dean is role-playing in front of J.D. and Veronica, explaining how his day at work went, but the words get stuck on the tip of my tongue and I miss a beat. We get beer and more wine at the drug store, narrowly avoiding death by Las Vegas traffic two or three times. Back home, we listen to music and talk. I’ve been watching too much television these past years and feel out of touch with the situation. This is all I used to do not so long ago; talk and drink. She grows hungry but all my prepackaged, microwavable food has been eaten. She asks for spaghetti. I have to make sauce from (almost) scratch. Canned tomato stuff, onions, garlic, dried peppers, olive oil, and (dried) Italian seasonings. It’s cheap and easy (no jokes, damn you.) We eat at the table. I haven’t used very much at all since facing the wild, wild world on my lonesome oh so long ago. She helps with the dishes. I wish I didn’t have to work the next day, the start of the Lunar New Year. Her family is having some celebration to honor the event. I was invited but since my schedule changed, I have to decline. We go to bed far too late, but I don’t mind. I’ll be off Thursday so I think I’ll make it.
Today is the beginning of the Lunar New Year. Kung hay fat choy

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

She made it back over last night.

She took the bus since she hurt her arm and her truck has a manual transmission. Living in Chicago has taken away any fears of public transportation she may have harbored in youth. I left work for home at 9, since my schedule changed, and caught the Pecos bus to Flamingo since I couldn’t find a ride. I had about a 20 minute layover so I walked into Lee’s for some wine for my young lady friend (and myself.) I knew I had beer in the refrigerator but there’s something about wine and women. The bus I wait on never arrives; instead I catch the next one a half hour later. The driver explained that someone had a stroke and the bus had to wait for an ambulance and all the bureaucratic nonsense that goes along with an incident on the bus.

My company wasn’t expected until 11ish so I wasn’t worried, merely inconvenienced. The two bottles of wine became heavy cradled in my arm. I felt French for some reason. With my beret, black satchel, long coat, and bottles of wine I was only missing a baguette and some brie to complete the ensemble. I had enough time to change and drink a beer or two before she arrived, stunning in her black coat and eyeliner. I felt dumpy in my dirty jeans and Ween t-shirt; unshaven and unkempt next to her dance club pallor. “But I’m a punk, damn it!” I try to lie to myself; DIY and shit. I don’t think she minds my appearance, however. Even as she keeps powdering her face. I offer up a beer or some wine. She opts for the beer first, pouring a Newcastle into a Budweiser logo-emblazoned pint glass that I got at Sanctuary years ago. She makes some snide comment about the logo; I’ve heard that too many times to be that amused. I know Budweiser is shit. She sits on the couch; I sit on the floor near her feet. She gives me a CD and a patch for St. Valentine’s Day, explaining that she forgot the card she made. Slightly embarrassed, I play the CD. She knows the band, she says. They’re from Chicago. It’s some neo-folk sample-driven stuff. Moving to the merlot I brought, we change out CDs. She says I’m being quite tolerant of “her music” which makes me laugh. She assumed I only listen to synthpop and other, lighter stuff. It must be the REM and Morrissey posters. Of course I listen to power noise, neo-folk, and the rest. Some people in the audience might think I’m close-minded about music but I actually listen to a broad spectrum of stuff; just not most mainstream shit. We finish the wine and play a little on the floor, hoping my roommate doesn’t interrupt. She becomes quite drunk and asks that we go to Cheers and get some food from Roberto’s. Ian comes in at this moment and exits to his room, slamming his door. That sort of aggression makes me very testy but I leave it alone. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” We leave, catching my friend James just as he’s walking up to my door. We turn around and head to the bar, but my companion becomes drunker. Instead of eating in the bar, I bring her into the restaurant to eat first. She’s stumbling a bit. Of all things, she orders a carne asada burrito. I put some Spanish music on the jukebox to liven things up. She sobers up enough for us to leave for the bar. We only stay for one beer; it’s getting late and we’re both intoxicated.

Getting home, we go right for my bedroom. The last time she was here, she spent three nights. She slept on the couch the first night but the other two in my room. I didn’t know what to expect, but I guess I should know better. “Two total strangers, but that ain’t what they’re thinking.” After being sexually active for 17 years, I’m still surprised at how different everyone is in intimate situations. What you want, where you want it, and for how long is always completely different for everyone.

Needing to work the next day, I fell asleep quickly and still nude. By the time I woke, she’d put on her pajamas. I cuddled softly for a few moments before getting ready for work. She might be visiting San Diego on Thursday, but I hope she sticks around.

Monday, February 07, 2005

When I got home last night, my roommate had company; a woman. She’s been over several times; I don’t mind her company. They’d ordered pizza, rented some videos (actual magnetic tape - so quaint!) and picked up some beer. Miller High Life, of all things. I think she has poor taste in beer. She mentioned that she wanted to get Michelob, but he insisted on the Low Life. I had just gotten some decent beer and the pizza had dead animal on it so I declined their offers. It’s always strange when he has company over. He spends most of his time on his computer in his bedroom, exiting for the occasional cigarette. I, on the other hand, have my computer in the living room, next to the television and stereo. Most nights, when I return from work, I turn on the idiot box for the usual diet of war documentaries, MASH, and Daria while multi-tasking with several chat clients on my computer and pounding bottles of Newcastle. I’m alone with my misery and addictions. I have nowhere else to hide. I have a radio in my bedroom, but I’m not even sure if it works anymore. It’s a portable stereo that my mother bought for my 18th birthday. As much as I’d like to sit in my dark corner and mope, I’m basically stuck in the oh-so-cheerful company of others. It could be worse, I suppose. They could be actually cheerful or want to watch Aqua Teen Hunger Force or something miserable like that. She notices a CD that my company from a few nights ago had brought out; a Canadian noise compilation. She asks if there is any way she can take it off my hands. I simply give it to her; I haven’t been listening to as much music as I used to and I’d maybe played that CD two or three times. That being settled, they put in a Mickey Rourke film called Angel Heart. It didn’t sound familiar but as it came on I realized that I’d seen it before; perhaps with Jeremiah, but I don’t really remember. It has a pseudo-noir affectation that my roommate finds somehow compelling but I see as merely droll. The Jacob’s Ladder motif falls flat, in my not-so-humble opinion. After that ends, we watch Black Cat, White Cat, an interesting offering from Yugoslavia. I realize I can’t tell the difference between spoken Romany and spoken Serbo-Croatian, even though Romany is more closely related to Indian languages. The film is light-hearted but still manages to keep the hard edge of an obscure art film. I’d spent most of the time Angel Heart was on chatting with my most recent friend Michelle but since Black Cat, White Cat is subtitled I had to pay more attention to the film. I think I’d prefer it if she was watching the film with me, but she lives quite a distance off and can’t find transportation. She offers to come over tomorrow night, which isn’t as good but it will have to do. The Chinese New Year celebration is soon and she wants me to go to temple with her and her mother. It sounds fun, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to arrange it around work; besides, religion bothers me, even Buddhism. My work schedule was pushed up an hour, so I needed to sleep earlier than I’m used to. I manage to nod off around 3, an hour past my target, but I still make it to work on time and I don’t feel too tired today. We’ll see how tomorrow turns out.
"Thought of you as my mountain top,
Thought of you as my peak.
Thought of you as everything,
I've had but couldn't keep."

Saturday, February 05, 2005

I found some pictures of the Red Room in Santa Cruz. If I went there today, I might know one or two people if I was lucky, but I'd still like to drink there again.
Just got a ticket to Coachella. About the same price as last year, $180, but this year I don't have any firm plan on how to get there and back. Two friends said they're going to try to go so I might be able to hitch with them. I hope it all works out.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Someone at Cheers played a few games of blitz chess with me last night. I'm so out of practice I made some stupid mistakes. Gotta keep to pool when very drunk.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Sharing space and a bed with someone for a few days has made me remember how good it feels.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Sorry I haven't been talkative, I've had company the past few nights.

Monday, January 31, 2005

Sunday, January 30, 2005

I only slept 6 hours last night, but actually woke up feeling well rested. Sometimes I don't understand my sleep schedule and needs.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

So I'm at work today. Since I was out of sick time and called in on Saturday and Sunday, I get to make up time. Fun.

Monday, January 24, 2005

It's amazing what just some little antibiotics will do. I feel so much better now. Plus, Jenny came over last night with some broth and then took me to the store so I could get some more groceries! Yay food! Girls are rad. Well, some girls. Well, okay, Jenny is rad.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Saturday, January 22, 2005

Pulp Fiction is on. It's hard to believe this film is already 10 years old. On the whole this is just one big cliche now, or maybe it always was. I still like it; over the top and cheese.
What I Did On My Summer Vacation.

So I haven't been sleeping well from what I thought was a cold and the drugs I was taking to not notice the cold. Friday night was a clincher; I took one too many shots of DXM and had to throw up. In order to leave, I'm supposed to get my boss' permission. Normally this isn't a problem, but she'd already left for the day and I had to call her. I hate calling people about work shit when they aren't at work. I left about two hours early, getting a ride with one of the other managers. I convinced myself that I'd had enough and that I'd go to the clinic tomorrow if I didn't feel better. My ride, a long-time coworker and friend, offered to drive me there right then. I didn't have the nerve; I have a problem with doctors and had to work up the strength. Arriving home, I wish I'd taken him up on his offer. I couldn't sleep, or even drink myself to sleep. I tossed around in bed until about 7ish, took a shower, laid back down, wished I had a friend that could pick me up and take me to the clinic this early. I signed on to AIM hoping someone would be awake, but no luck.

Around 9, I left. I didn't feel as bad as the night before, but I knew it would come back. One problem with the bus system here is that there are major routes that run all night, but not many minor routes. Sometimes you have to walk a mile or two to get where you need to be. I could have waited for the Harmon or Flamingo bus to take me to Eastern, but it takes just as long to walk it. I grab the bus on Eastern down to Russell, then had to walk up to the same street my apartment is on. I'm pretty miserable by now, but the nurses are okay. A few simple questions, fill out this form, $25 please. I thought it was going to be $50, but we just changed insurance so I guess it went down. When I hopped on the scale, the nurse had the large weight on 100 and the medium one on 50. I laughed for a second, then she put it down to 10. With a coat and steel toe boots I came to 127. I've heard people put on weight when they stop smoking, so I'm prolly gonna gain some this week. Oh well, not like anyone can really tell with the baggy clothes I wear.

Finally getting into the exam room, it seemed like I had to wait forever. Just a small room with an examination bed, a chair, a stool, a sink, and a few exam instruments. The doctor finally came in. White guy, perfect english. I was surprised. He asked the normal questions, did the poking and prodding, etc, and told me I probably have a sinus infection. He gave me a prescription for some antibiotics and asked if I had any questions. It was almost 1 by now, so I asked if I could have a note for work. I was exhausted and really didn't feel like doing much but sleep. He wrote one out for two days and told me to get some rest and take some long hot showers.

I left, called work, and took the Eastern bus back towards home.
Yeah, so at least it isn't the flu. Turns out I have a nice little sinus infection!

Friday, January 21, 2005

Does one really sleep when dosed up on cough syrup? I remember going to bed at about 2:30 and just seeing a blur of the red numbers on my alarm. I feel rested enough, but it doesn't seem like I closed my eyes.
I want a tent. I think it would be darker in my room if I slept in a tent.
Also, I forgot to mention that Roxy Music's "More Than This" can eat just about any other 80s song for breakfast.
Working up the strength to finally leave my well-blanketed couch this afternoon, I head over to the drug store for some evil death flu remedies. I somehow manage to avoid running through the store screaming "Yay, taquitos!" but that's for another time. The woman in front of me at the register is asking about the sale price of certain candy bars. I don't look down on this; some people are cheap and/or poor and still eat candy. She's holding an envelope with "1.78" written on the front. Without context to make any meaning, I don't notice it until it's gone. The cashier is helping her count some change out. "We can't accept Canadian," she says, handing back a foreign coin. My turn at the register, I wonder out loud (but not too loudly since the woman is still just a few steps away) "isn't she a bit old to be buying candy with change?"

"She tried to buy cigarettes with that, but she didn't have enough"
"Well, we see it all the time, people just getting out of jail, or the hospital. At least she'll get something in her stomach until she can get someplace"

I'm ashamed of myself now. The white envelope contained the contents of her pockets when she was admitted to the emergency room just two blocks away. It's no wonder she needed so much help counting, now that I notice she can barely stand up. Jumping to conclusions, making rash judgments, I'm too often guilty (and not just with people.)

What I said and felt about the woman in front of me in line might be correct, but that doesn't make it right to say it.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Ug, sick. I couldn't sleep last night and I've been drinking herbal tea all day. I'm trying a beer right now, but it tastes funny.

Monday, January 17, 2005

I'm bored and frustrated but I can't think of anything better to do than sit in front of my computer and fuck around.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Saturday, January 15, 2005

Wow, no updates since Wednesday. Where to start? Wednesday night was a bit of a party. My friend Kathy came over for her weekly visit (usually just a couple of beers or some wine and Wrath of God or whatever on the History Channel. She likes to keep in touch with friends, even if it’s just a once-a-week hour-long visit.) I’d mentioned that I wanted to get my eyebrows shaped and she said she had some wax at home. After she’d retrieved it and we cleaned up my eyebrows, a few more people came over. I didn’t have time to shave my face so I thought I looked a little funny with shaped eyebrows and two week’s worth of beard; no one probably noticed anyway. Maybe next week I’ll go for a haircut and manicure. We had like 6 people show up total. The moment one couple showed up, I opened the refrigerator to put away some beer and spilled an entire gallon of Kool-Aid; oops. It was quite the cluster-fuck. I was showing off my art and there was music blasting. Someone was playing my bass and at some point I think I was playing my didgeridoo. After we’d dusted 12’ers of Newcastle, Bass, most of the Guinness, a 6 pack of 8 Ball Stout, some bourbon-and I’m sure there were a few others-we headed to Cheers.

As some of my friends left the bar (hours after we arrived) I found out one of the bar semi-regulars killed himself earlier that week. I was told he’d be diagnosed with terminal cancer and decided to chew on a bullet to save himself and his family the trouble. I didn’t really know the man, but he was a small celebrity. He was a pool shark and a protégé of a shark named Fast Eddie Felson (subject of the Hustler and the Color of Money.) This guy was a money player and an old man, so one should be careful about believing what he said. Either way, when he would stoop to play us amateurs, it was only to teach us a lesson or two about how it’s done. It was wonderful to hear his colorful stories of hustling pool through the 50s and 60s. His stories were quite colorful and he taught me a few cool shots. I guess it doesn’t matter how much of what he said was true, or even if he was who he said he was. Part of Vegas’ appeal is its façade. Most of my friends had gone home, so I had a few shots in the old man’s memory and we played a few games of 8-ball. I got home sometime around dawn.

Thursday night, a new friend came over. Well, one of Ian’s friends, really, but I think she’s cool and so the three of us hung out. She’s taller than I am and (of course) weighs a little bit more (well like 40 pounds more.) She usually wears long skirts and cute blouses. She’s into power noise, mostly (in sharp contrast to Ian’s Fields of the Nephilim and P.i.L. or my synthpop.) She brought over a VHS copy of Multiple Maniacs, which I haven’t seen since I broke up with Spuds. I only had a few Guinness and some cheap bourbon left, but she brought some lousy low carb (!) beer called Dab or some such garbage. I don’t think I should have let it in the apartment, but whatever. She said that since I’d let her have so many beers the last time she was over she might as well bring some this time. Nice, I get stuck buying the beer most of the time. I was sore from the night before so I didn’t want to drink that much anyway. I think I’d woken up at 16:00. She wanted to play Trivial Pursuit, which is always cool with me. Ian was passing out in the middle so we went a few rounds without him. I think I’m more her type than Ian is anyway. It’s difficult to say how much closer since I’m so effeminate and crabby, but my taste in film, music, and culture is much closer to hers than Ian’s is.

We made some light talk; found out a little bit about each other. She hates the Cure. She hates vegetarians. She’d make a great girlfriend for a real rivet-head (not a panty-waist art fag like me.) I tell her about my previous girlfriends (the huge banner-sized Boy’s Don’t Cry poster over the bed, all the Cure albums, vegetarians, Dr. Martin’s, berets, trench coats, incense, and votive candles. Sigh.) She laughs and says she’d punch a vegan in the mouth and piss on Robert Smith. So much anger! That being said, I think she’s still intelligent and attractive, if a bit mislead. She seemed really excited about the “Teach Yourself Morse Code” record I picked up in Toronto, so there might be hope yet.

When Ian woke back up, he got back in the game and picked up a few easy questions to win (I’d gotten all the wedges and was waiting to land in the center for the win. Given our collective knowledgebase, the final question was always going to be sports and leisure, meaning we’d only win if I got a chess question or any of us got a booze question.) She wound up two wedges behind us boys. I don’t think I’ve ever played to let the girl win. Maybe that’s why I’m sleeping alone so much. Ian went to bed at this time and the two of us continued gaming. I picked out my cards, dominoes, and backgammon sets. We settled on dominoes. She plays “prison rules” with some nonsense about “houses” and only scoring in multiples of fives. Whatever, I picked up on it quickly. We played a few hands and she came ahead by the time I was ready to pass out. I don’t remember leaving for bed. I have that problem a lot; even if I’m not that drunk I usually stay up until I’m so tired I just automatically make it to bed. I hope I didn’t do anything untoward or out of line. I’d probably remember it if I did.

The next day, I woke up at about 13:10. I have to wake up at 11:00 to make it to work. I think my alarm had gotten unplugged. Fortunately, Ian was still home so I could use his cell phone to call into work. Unfortunately she wasn’t there; otherwise I might have called in late and gotten a ride. Ian said she was in the bathroom when he woke up. I didn’t think she’d had that much to drink. I didn’t want to call in, but I was in no shape to leave the apartment. My sleep schedule was 6 or 7 hours out of sync, I’ve had a cold for weeks, and I was just burned out. After getting in touch with my boss (who was remarkably understanding and told me I could make the day up later in the week,) I went back to bed and woke up at about 7pm. I took a sleeping bag into the living room (I need to hook the cable back up in my room) to watch Wrath of God or whatever on the History Channel and just doze in and out of reality. A Xanax or something would have worked a miracle. Even just some cough syrup. Just laying there was wonderful. I went back into my room at about 3am, wrapping myself in the sleeping bag that Danielle left behind, pulling a second sleeping bag over that, padding the bed with four or five of the ancient blankets I have, then pulling my comforter over my head and a huge pile of all my pillows. A better pillow fort has never been constructed.

I managed to sleep solidly through the night even though I hadn’t had drug or drink all day. Usually, I will wake up here and there as the stupid wets honk their horns and blast Tejano or Banda or the trash man thumps and beeps outside my window. My eyes opened at about 10:45, just before my alarm. I was well rested, but exiting my cave has never been more difficult. I managed to slip into the (even darker) bathroom and lay down in the tub as the hot water hit me in the chest and side. As the hot water ran out, I dried off and slipped under the mound of blankets for another fifteen minutes. The mess of books and records on my floor since the recent water heater emergency make it difficult to travel around my room. I don’t want to search through that mess for some clean clothes, but fortunately a semi-clean sweater is near the top of a pile. The jeans I find are a little worn, but they’ll do the trick. The pants and sweater are both rather tight fitting; I think they go well with my Chuck Taylor’s, beret, and green Army trench. I still haven’t shaved, but fuck it.

Just leaving the apartment, I realized I’d forgotten to bring a quarter for bus faire. I stopped in the 99¢ store to break a $10. They have Mt. Dew Pitch Black in cans for 25¢! I grabbed two of those and went outside to wait for the bus. I don’t think I missed the bus I’d planned on catching, but I had to wait until almost 12:45 before one arrived. Of course, once we got to Pecos I found out why; there was a bus broken down just after the intersection. All this of course meant I was a half hour late, but we were covered and not that busy.

Whew, so that’s why I haven’t updated since Wednesday.

Monday, January 10, 2005

Sunday, January 09, 2005

In Annie Hall, Alvy and Annie never say "I love you". Is it that Groucho Marx joke (never wanting to join a club that would have you for a member)?

Friday, January 07, 2005

Monday, January 03, 2005

My friends Mat and Alan came in for the New Year’s celebration. I haven’t seen them in a while (well we stopped by Mat’s on the way to Coachella but that’s it.) Mat brought some homebrew absinthe that turns your poop green for days. In a fit of insanity, he drank over 10 shots of vodka in under an hour. He spent the next few hours babbling about god knows what (he was completely indecipherable) and sort of stumbling around. I could tell how drunk he was so I babysat him while Alan and my roommate went to the Crown and Anchor. Of course we spent a lot of time at Cheers playing pool and drinking. They were impressed by Roberto’s insanity nachos of doom, so perhaps they’ll come back soon. NYE we walked outside, flanked by another friend who’d come over to visit, and then made our way first to Cheers then to the Double Down. I got fairly drunk, surprise surprise; all that Jagermeister. We didn’t stay too long, however. The walk back is a bit of a blur. I think Mat was trying to climb a fence and I was holding my friend’s hand and having a fun time. I hope I wasn’t too “forward”, but I’m sure she would have told me if I had been; or at least kicked me in the nuts. We sent Alan hurdling towards the airport last night and Mat toward the bus station this morning. It was all lots of fun.

Saturday, January 01, 2005

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky--
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

-William Ross Wallace

Insert bad joke here.