perpetual bigness

the ride of your life is in a hearse

2008-10-17T16:37:00.000-07:00

On wednesday night I found this in a pile of garbage (shown with shoes so you can gauge the size):

And I'm not talking about on the sidewalk, or in the dumpster or garbage can. I was drunkenly trying to get back to this heavy metal bar, the one with the hearse parked out front that has "honky lips" spray-painted on it. It's also the one that Katherine and I had been drinking beer in front of earlier in the night and were lucky enough to be solicited by a "punk" and his guido friend to come walk to the water with them, where it was "magical" and where they were NOT going to give us some of the punk's orange juice and vodka (separate containers stowed inside his black leather motorcycle jacket). Since we were saying no absolutely not going with you the moment they started talking, the guido friend tried to gain my trust by showing me his resume, which was actually his cover letter, and then I finally had to put the kibosh on all the persuading and say flat out "not interested, man, go away." The incident provided much hilarious fodder for K and I after, at some point prompting me to muse "What kind of pussy tries to pick up a lady with showing off his nasty screwdrivers which I can't have any of?"

Finding our way back to the heavy metal bar, I detoured us into what was basically a landfill. It was just an opening in a fence and within it was what looked like the remains of a war zone. There was so much garbage that you would be hard-pressed to find a patch of dirt to stand on. It was about the size of half a block with some buildings closing in on two sides. One of the buildings was a trailer and as we walked in and looked up, you could see two old people sitting on lawnchairs on the roof of it, gazing up at the sky. They were too far away to hear me gasp when I chanced to look down at my feet and see the storm trooper, lying awkwardly posed and clearly forgotten/unloved. I scooped him into my arms and paid attention to him all night.

Of course I fell asleep on the J and missed my subway stop (brings back a lot of memories). In my storm trooper-clutching confidence I decided to try and walk back home, figuring I'll just follow the J tracks - it couldn't be far. As I walked Jamaica Ave. I quickly realized that I was drunk, alone, and clutching a storm trooper doll. So I found a cab that couldn't break the large bill I was carrying. I had to break a hundred with white cheddar cheezits. While the cab took me back to my bed, I watched evergreen cemetery fly past my window - we were on the jackie robinson (one of my favorite highways?). There was no way I could have walked back to my house. It was 5am when I set stormy on the floor and laid down.

At 8:30am I woke up and dragged myself to the bathroom. My roommates were doing yoga in the living room. I brushed my teeth and blinked slowly at my reflection in the mirror wondering if I would smell like hangover at work. It turned out okay. I ate a bagel and had an afternoon coffee and almost cracked at about 4 or 5 but I made it all the way to 6:30 and went home and went right to sleep.

And today is today. It is also friday.

I just want to take a million drugs and a million beers

2008-09-13T16:18:00.000-07:00

There is a lot to say but not a lot I can talk about.

Here is my new room in East Bushwick.

I'm reading The Diary of a Teenage Girl for the second time. It was the last book I read. It really speaks to me and that makes a lot of sense. I just listened to Fleetwood Mac's Tusk. It speaks to me and that makes a lot of sense.

After unsuccessfully attempting to break into the corporate world, I walked dogs in Park Slope for a few days at 10 dollars an hour - not nearly enough money to pay the rent, mind you. At first I considered it lucky that I was making any money at all until I realized that Park Slope is probably my worst nightmare ever. Possibly scarier than sharks and Cirque Du Soleil, or the combination of live sharks as part of a Cirque Du Soleil act. Is everyone fucking pregnant? To see so many people choosing to do something I completely disagree with really fucked with my senses. There were so many strollers and foreign nannies and cool tattooed dads and ikea furnished apartments and framed pictures of the Brooklyn Bridge at night that I started to question my place in the world.

So now I am unemployed and this morning I got to hear my downstairs neighbor yell at his roommate, "RESPECT MY SHIT!" This afternoon they asked me if I smoke. I clearly remember learning in college that they meant do I smoke weed. But for some reason I get confused and return to dork every time. So I proudly answered "Nope!" Then later on while a block party was going on a different neighbor called me over and told me that his nephew was lonely and sad and that I should talk to him. This nephew was about 16 or 17 years old and talking on his cell phone not at all paying attention. "Not old enough for you?" he asked. I laughed nervously and said "Uhhhh, yeah a little bit, man. I'm going to go drink this beer in my apartment now."
I am feeling quite entertained.

I have a lot of ideas and a comedy/tragedy project that will reveal itself in the coming days. Stay tuned. For now I am going to finish my beer on the stoop and try not to be noticed.

Hostel Takeover

2008-08-06T07:34:00.000-07:00

This hostel feels more like a Bukowski hotel. There is a sink and a mirror, a window with a fire escape that looks out over Welton St. - the train passes by here every half hour, I'm surrounded by parking lots, and every couple of hours hordes of Mexicans fill the sidewalks for the bus station downstairs that makes stops in El Paso, Chihuahua, etc. Each room has a big metal locking gate and a second wooden door behind it with a peephole. I've found that hostels in America, unlike the ones I have been to across Ireland, are filled with people who are "down on their luck." A lot of people simply in between housing and employment and also a fair amount of creeps. The key to room 208 was to a 6-person dorm. I walked in and immediately noticed a peculiarity. Something was definitely wrong and when I looked around I noticed other people's stuff; bags, sneakers, towels, t-shirts...boxers - panic set in. This old man started following me around "Let me see your room key! You do not belong here!" in a really mean way, like it was my fault the hostel-keepers gave me the wrong key. I kept saying "I know! Obviously! Jeez!" and he made me try the key in both 208 and 203 (the women's dorm). AND OBVIOUSLY it only worked on the men's dorm, he acted like i broke into it! Like i really want to lay in the bunk next to you and watch you sleep old man. The hostel people apologized profusely, the key number had rubbed off to the point where 208 was easily mistaken for 203, and to make up for it they put me in a 4-person room...WITH NO ONE ELSE IN IT. All to myself.

And so, Denver is really pretty sweet. I could see myself staying here in this room, people watching from my window, drinking cheap jug wine and writing blogs all day (many blogs, all sorts!). There are, of course, sneaky and fundamental reasons why I like it so far:

- A bike ride through a strange city by yourself at night is unlike any other activity. The blood starts flowing and the lights of the city guide you through the streets and it makes all the feelings of loneliness and car travel-induced hysteria melt away. This is one of those types of cities where the tall buildings of downtown cluster in one tiny area, while surrounding it are beautiful old houses and small town-type streets filled with bars and record stores and diners and coffee shops. Everything looks delicious and familiar. It also helps that the streets are easy to bike on, flat and not too crowded with drivers.

- There is a vegetarian restaurant. Yep, it doesn't take much to please me. Watercourse Foods - highly recommended. They have got one of those menus where every single item looks incredible and induces salivation. I went with a reuben. This is by far my favorite sandwich of all time and it is with great pleasure that i order it whenever i see it on a vegetarian menu. I felt just like Rachel Ray on 40 Dollars a Day, except I didn't ask any of the locals where I should go for breakfast in the morning (because I am going right back there today). Oh, and the reuben was fucking fantastic, a very welcome western spin on an old favie - homemade red cabbage sauerkraut, portobello mushrooms, chipotle aioli.

- I spotted a wizard. A genuine fucking wizard. He was sitting on a tree stump outside this coffee shop/restaurant diagonal from the hostel and when I saw him, I nearly lost control of the car. Complete with long white beard and long white hair, he was wearing a robe made of indigo velvet, topped with a wedge cap that matched. The robe was accented with gold piping and his hat bore a symbol on the front I could not decipher.
A fucking wizard.

- Right above the restaurant where the wizard roamed, some old timey music was floating out onto the street. People were coming into and out of the place looking happy so I wandered in and gazed upon a dance floor, ceiling covered in christmas lights and plastic flowers. There were about 200 people, young and old, swing dancing. And it wasn't some revival shit where everyone was dressed like they had just watched Swing Kids. Just regular Denverians, looking really psyched, either watching pepople dance in the middle or fucking SWING DANCING. I stuck around for a minute to watch but high-tailed it out of there, needing a beer in a place where no one was dancing. Now I realize that swing dancing probably exists in weirdo pockets across america, but can you believe that shit?

Tonight was like Denver trying to woo me - it doesn't quite know all the stuff that i like, but it's getting there.

PS I saw a flyer for a local band called Bonerama. Sorry Denver.

Left the sun behind me

2008-08-04T21:24:00.000-07:00

I know why more people do not move across the country with all of their stuff by car.

It's not because of the drive, although I think 11 hours is my limit. It's not even really the money.

Lugging all your shit around in your car is just a pain in the ass. Why worry about all your worldly possessions that can easily be thieved by a simple smash of a window and why stay in a hostel that feels like a soup kitchen in Salt Lake City...

when you could just stay home?

No matter how many people you know and look forward to hugging at your destination, you probably don't know too many people in between, in places like SLC or Kansas City (well I don't), and this shit is lonely. I keep thinking about how I could just be laying on my clean bed watching Sex in the City, drinking a glass of cheap wine, my stuff securely located all around me. But instead I chose to pay to sleep on the top bunk of a bed in a girl's dorm room where scabies or crabs may or may not live and work.

The hostel is funny; actually kind of nice - big screen tv's with cable, wireless connection, large kitchen. Already I have heard a young pregnant girl wonder aloud if she is having a miscarriage because of the cramps she's having on one side of her belly. There also appears to be a cat because there is a dish of food in a kitty-head shaped bowl on the floor, though I have not spotted a single feline. And there are definitely people living here because from the street you can see into the second floor window and it looks like a teenage girl lives here - complete with a wicker shelf with trinkets on it, tapestries and posters on the wall, a huge vanity mirror...
and then I saw this is on the door to the room:

I have multiple guesses. Does a whole family live here? Did a thirteen year old girl emancipate herself but still has a decent relationship with her parents? Is one of those names Laser? Older person with a mental disability? I'm stumped and I really want to knock but I'm not sure I want to wait. Perhaps I can add my name in red marker to the bottom before I walk in?

Tip for anyone taking long solo road trip: By far the best listening I have done in the car is comedy: Dave Chappelle, Paul F. Tompkins and my man Mitch Hedberg - "What the fuck is a Sesa-ME?"

Listening to anything sad is a BAD idea. Just bad.

Okay so I just spotted people going into and out of Tacy's room. One middle-aged woman wearing Tinkerbell pajamas and a teen complaining about something and a older middle-aged bald man with a moustache. They are whispering in there.

My eyes feel like they are going to melt. Time for top bunk! Goodnight sweet Salt Lake!

The Enormous Hand of Fate

2008-07-13T22:44:00.000-07:00

Just two days ago I had been thinking about how I wanted to learn how to play dice. When I was a kid I always thought Mary Stuart Masterson's character Watts in Some Kind of Wonderful was the shit - especially during the scene where she is playing dice outside with the restaurant staff during her break as date chauffeur. Most of the times these notions are short-lived and disappear within a week because it gets knocked out with a new inane goal - just this morning I thought about how I want to learn how to tie different types of knots for different uses. So I was pleasantly surprised when I got to Missouri Lounge last night and Denis was there playing dice with a bunch of people. For money! I quickly badgered him to explain the rules and pretty soon I was in. I found out that no one likes a winner, especially someone who has never played the game before. I started with a budget of four dollars and ended the night with fourteen. I like dice.

Over the weekend Chris and I watched The Butterfly Effect. I'm sure there are many reviews about how bad this movie is, how many questions arise from the inconsistencies in the plot, how lame Ashton Kutcher is, how outrageously uncomfortable many of the scenes are, how outlandish it is to think that Amy Smart's character would actually be in love with the long-haired red-headed guy, etc. So I simply offer the best and most hilarious scene.

I re-played this so many times, and it is an easy shot I know, but it is Ashton Kutcher with no arms forcing himself to fall out of his wheelchair and it has the same type of appeal that the kid in the wheelchair flying off the cliff in the movie Mac and Me does. Wheelchair appeal?

This afternoon I took a nap from my hungover marathon of 30 Rock and in my dream I met a man who had an enormous left hand that was wearing a Mickey Mouse style glove. He had stopped to ask me a question while I was waiting for a bus. I don't remember what he asked me but I realized I had talked to him over the phone earlier that day at work. I asked him about it and he started to flirt with me in this really confident and pretty charming way. I gave him my phone number and I missed my bus so I got on my bike. He called after me and said "I know you'll go on a date with me." I laughed but I was freaked out too. At the end of my dream I accidentally dropped my bike into a pool.

Hands mean "Intellect. Understanding. It denotes threatened misery and loss that will be avoided by wise action." (petrix.com) Well which one the hell is it?
Bicycle "To dream that you are riding a bicycle, signifies your desires to attain a balance in your life. You need to balance work and pleasure in order to succeed in your current undertakings." (Dreammoods.com)
Bus "To dream that you are waiting for a bus, indicates a temporary setback in achieving your personal goals. If you miss the bus or get on the wrong bus, then it indicates that an aspect of your life is out of control. You need to slow down and map out a new plan. To dream that you are at the bus station, suggests that you have reached some new level or stage in your emotional or physical life." (Dreammoods.com)
Pool "To see a pool of water in your dream, indicates that you need to understand and deal with your emotions. You need to dive right in. Alternatively, a pool may indicate your need for cleansing. You need to wash away the past." (Dreammoods.com)

Mickey Mouse Glove was not in the dream dictionary.

So I need to take a shower, ride my bike more often in the East Bay (where it's fun) after work, and avoid misery? This shit is hard.

At sleeps.com I can get my dreams personally interpreted by an expert for only $35!

Now accepting donations.

no excess fat in these feet

2008-07-08T20:21:00.000-07:00

On Sunday I ventured out solo to see limpwrist at Gilman. I noticed, in my aimless wandering between sets, that my feet seem to be a lot smaller inside my nikes - and this is the only noticeable difference in my body since starting to go to the gym three months ago. In a way I find it rewarding that I've finally noticed a physical difference besides having these unusual bouts of pure relentless energy that hit at about 8-9 o'clock most nights. But in another way, what the fuck?

After limpwrist played a rousing encore with I Love Hardcore Boys, I finally spotted Greg in the crowd trying to make his way outside. I congratulated his move out here and wholeheartedly welcomed him to the Bay Area but on the way home I thought about how weird that felt for me to say. The Bay Area really didn't feel like mine to give, though I obviously welcomed his presence in my life. Sappy, but I suppose it sums up my experience here and unfortunate that I really only have myself to blame though honestly, unemployment and living at my mom's house seems really pretty sweet.

I just heard Chris say over the phone "Oh hey dude, sorry for getting pasta sauce all over your cd." and then later on he said "Dude, save me a tab."
You know what I'm talking about.

Side notes of a boring life:

I'm so glad that John Henson is back on tv, although Wipeout is not the most ideal place to show off his talents as much as Talk Soup was. I'm also glad that Deanna picked Jesse as the man to marry on the Bachelorette. Though I scoff at the idea of marriage and separately, true love found on a tv show, they really seemed into each other on Bachelorette: After the Rose, didn't they? Like they were really making eyes at each other and kissing like crazy - these people sure had me convinced. And I just want to say, I knew there was no way she was gonna turn down a man that snowboarded with ease while she was riding him piggy back. Dude had it in the bag.

In rather upsetting news, I'm pretty sure that my Whole Foods crush who looks like Jonathan Franzen is gay. I was checking out while checking him out and simultaneously shoving a sample chocolate chip cookie into my mouth while trying to say "Token, I'll take the token." to the clerk. And I don't want to jump to conclusions about someone's sexual orientation here (which I am fully aware that I am doing) but when he did a quick turnaround to answer a co-worker, it was a little too swivel-y, you know? Like hands on the hip, other arm swinging round, head cocked in that "What's up bee-otch?" kind of way. And I could swear that his name tag said "Miley" - which of course might be the major indicator here but this truly warrants further investigation that should not at all be labeled stalking. I shop there every week! I need my dried figs, my occasional kombucha and my organic kitty grass! (I am not a senior citizen)

Kiss kiss and goodnight sweet internet!

2008-07-05T21:25:00.000-07:00

Jello Biafra

After I met up with Jacob at the sex vid show, I was walking, drink in hand up the 4-stair flight inside the hemlock and almost got hit in the face by the hand of someone standing on stairs. He was talking with exaggeration obviously, arms out at full length and he didn't say anything to me. When I looked back I saw that it was Jello and it made me stand up straighter and feel slightly embarrassed. Am I the only one that is still impressed by the presence of Jello Biafra? Probably. This wasn't the first time I had ever seen him. One time back in the days of No War in Iraq protests that filled up my days and my mind in New York, I saw him at a smaller protest that was taking place in front of fox news studios. He gave a speech and I was kind of swooning. I saw him afterwards and he was wearing a backpack. When I saw him Thursday at the Hemlock much later in the night, he was talking to a kind of unattractive late twenties/early thirties couple. The girl was wearing a heather green ringer Fender shirt and the dude was wearing a faux-worn target-brand AC/DC shirt. So should I get over being impressed? Probably.

Friday

The mushrooms did not work. They just kind of made me sick.

Saturday

Soundtrack for this - Saturday in the Park by Chicago. Also, Lust for Life by Iggy Pop.
Took Chris to see his elderly Aunt Irene in Los Altos. Shot the shit and drank some water. On the way back we took a detour into Half Moon Bay. Richy bitchy kind of beach town with one shitty cd store called The Music Hut, the kind of music store that sells fine guitar and music note jewelry, but the bakery there had this fucking incredible pesto garlic bread and so it wasn't all for naught. Later on down Highway 1 we came to Pacifica, which is where the famed Taco Bell Beach is located. Best beach in all of California, hands down. The taco bell sits modestly on the beach, looking more like a quaint little wood beach house than a fast foodery. The 7-Layer Burrito was fresh and substantial, eating it on the beach while watching surfers really hit the spot. We found the Sea Bowl right down the road and I managed to beat Chris with a 130 game over a pitcher of beer. My lucky ball was a pearly orange X-treme weighing in at 8 pin-crushing pounds.

My new favorite search is keyword photo in flickr. Try "catsuit." You may or may not like what you see...Star Trek fans unite. Please click to see larger image for wall detail.

Also, have you seen this?

Everything Sounds Metallic

2008-07-03T15:35:00.000-07:00

There are punctures in both of my arms. In an effort to relieve myself of future hypochondriatic worry, I'm squeezing in all last minute "Am I okay?" doctor's visits into one month. This morning kicked off the grand health crusade with a shot of the hepatitis b vaccine in my left arm and a tetanus shot in the right. I probably should have researched the hep b vaccine but damnit there was no time. I might develop autism now. Kaiser gave me a form to sign, authorizing the injection of the vaccine which made me nervous added on to reading the form which described the effects hep b can have on your health. So when the handsome nurse gave me the shot and I felt the liquid physically distribute through my arm, I immediately felt woozy and had to lie down. What a wuss, I know. Now my arms are left limp and sore and everything seems to have to have this metallic sound, a cold clinkiness (a side effect that was not noted on the form). I may have to employ the use of a hilariously long and twisty fun straw for drinks tonight at the sex vid show.

Other than that man...it's the fourth of july tomorrow and my only plans are to take mushrooms, maybe hit the beach. In other important news I found out that I have 22 hours of sick time left before I walk out the door of this corporation, not including vacation time! Hepatitis B cocktail anyone?

2008-06-29T00:44:00.000-07:00

Well, I didn't break out the Grind vhs tape Friday night. I went to bed with a crazy loud ringing in my right ear.

I woke up at 9:30 Saturday morning, read last week's SF Weekly - which left me feeling like "Where's the beef?" Still in my PJ's under the covers (it's still frackin' freezin' here man!), I watched For Your Consideration which I've had sitting on the tv stand for at least a month. It was okay. I feel like it had the potential to be much funnier but was bogged down by the weight of Christopher Guest's history, though Catherine O'Hara's transformation was completely disturbing and uncomfortably humorous. And as always Parker Posey was a dreamboat. After that I drove Jessie to Santa Clara to buy a bike. It was a creepy kind of California town that has stores and restaurants that only exist as part of strip malls and all the housing is compacted into condos or stucco apartment buildings, though the flowers were nice. I returned to the city and watched the first two episodes of the tv show Popular while drinking a nice glass of wine at Jessie's house. I was eager to check out this tv series I had only glimpsed the cover of at best buy and have never heard of before that. What the hell channel was it on? The opening credits of the first episode featuring a 90's era, brightly dressed singer songwriter lady really caught me off guard.

On Sunday I went to the wax museum with Jessie and Chris. This guy was representin'.

And had to share this gem:

I definitely dug the horror room the most, where Bay Area local Anton LaVey was prominently featured. Everything was dusty and outdated and gave me a headache but really a good trip for the price of free passes. There was a suggestions binder in there and a popular choice for a new wax figure was Dr. Dre. I would have to agree. I ended the day with a romantic dinner for two at the Olive Garden in the Stonestown Mall.

I definitely feel like writing this blog makes me feel like the kid in Wet Hot American Summer; the pigpen-like radio personality who is narrating life at camp all summer inside a room alone into a microphone that isn't plugged in.

I do this for me.

I quit my job today.

Greetings from rehab

2008-06-15T19:02:00.000-07:00

I'm kind of officially an adult now.

The doomed phone call came at work - student loans came a knockin' and they weren't just saying what's up. Well, it was more like "Hey what's up - you owe us a ridiculously large sum of money - BUMMER, RIGHT? If you don't give us all of your checking account we'll have to garnish the ol' wages, deadbeat dad style. 'kay thanks! TTFN!" And then I heard that Exxon Mobile was recently granted a magical gift from the courts; they now only have to pay 1/10 of the original sum for damages from the 1989 Alaskan oil spill. Can I please pay one-tenth of my student loan? I didn't hurt anybody, I only went to college.

So I've decided that since I only have a little more than a month left in San Francisco, I'm going to blog the rest of my days here. If I'm not going to be calling anyone and doing nothing except eating ice cream and watching Intervention or on the flipside, having a lot of good times gawking at bay area babes before I leave here and go back to New York, I might as well write about it. Like now, I'm so totes lazy tonight, I'm still hungover and I'm not leaving the house.

Cuz hey! Guess what? It's summer in San Francisco.

Can't you tell?

Today was my one year anniversary at my job, I got a raise and I'm going to call this CAN'T WAIT TO QUIT SUMMER. Oh man wait a minute, so I just started to type youtube into a new tab and the first link that came up was to the video below which I have never seen in my life, therefore Chris has viewed this recently while I was not at home. I admit I was a little nervous when I saw that the video is called Blow Your House but check out the size of that bow!

That beautiful lady in green is just so good it makes me want to learn a dance routine. Tonight might be the night to break out that MTV's The Grind workout vhs tape again...

Hypochondriak or child of mother nature?

2008-03-29T23:31:00.000-07:00

Some famous hypochrondriacs remind me that I am not alone and also remind me about thinking about myself:

Glenn Gould: The Canadian pianist suffered from severe hypochondria and would avoid obsessively anyone who exhibited signs of a cold or flu.
Me: Don't know who this man is and I do not usually go out of my way to avoid people with colds and flus, though I did last week at work due to not wanting to be sick during my upcoming vacation. My office is like one big germ mill, everyone is sick and it is fucking disgusting.

Sara Teasdale: An American poet and hypochondriac whose preoccupation with death often appeared in her poetry. On January 29, 1933, a blood vessel in her hand ruptured. Sure that she was about to die, she took some sleeping pills, got into the bathtub, and died of an overdose.
Me: I wouldn't take sleeping pills and I also wouldn't think to take a bath, so no worries friends.

Tennessee Williams: His severe hypochondria was one of the contributors to his debilitating alcohol and drug dependence.
Me: Fun fact from wikipedia, "Tennessee Williams died at the age of 71 after he choked on an eyedrop bottle cap in his room at the Hotel Elysee in New York. He would routinely place the cap in his mouth, lean back, and place his eyedrops in each eye, pretending he was a walrus." I don't really understand how that imitation of a walrus works.

James Boswell: Suffered from hypochondria and depression and wrote about his ailments in his famous journals and letters.
Me: A man that on further research "tended to plumpness" and held "an ingratiating sense of good humor," the terms Boswell, Boswellian, and Boswellism meaning a constant companion and observer was coined after him, he wrote a monthly series called The Hypochondriak, and most importantly was a man who said "I do fairly acknowledge that I love drinking" which, coupled with venereal disease, led to his death. Sexcellent!

Adolf Hitler: The dictator was a hypochondriac who was always obsessing about his health. He had a personal doctor who prescribed him countless pills, including amphetamins [sic].
Me: I finally get to use sic - sick! BTW, Hitler and I have so much in common!!! Wasn't he a vegetarian too?

Howard Hughes: The billionaire eccentric was frightened of germs and illness to such an extent that he became a recluse. He would not shake hands with people and kept several doctors on staff.
Me: You know, I met someone the other night who was introduced to three people at once and after shaking two hands, he said with obvious irritation, "That's enough handshaking for tonight." I wondered briefly if he was a fellow hypochondriac but instead simply concluded that he was stupid and that I did not like him one bit. I remember my roommate introduced him using his full name though she did not use the first and last name of the other people present during the introduction; I think this is because she thinks his full name is handsome and unique - it was something like Storm Fields.

Me: So I'm not exactly a germaphobe and I don't necessarily mind shaking hands though I do know that doing so promotes the common cold. I'm not so much afraid of what people can give me more than what I can give myself through over-obsessing, cyberchondriac-like tendencies. If I cannot find a friend who happens to be a doctor, one that I can call at 2am to ask if I am exhibiting the symptoms of meningitis (and if not meningitis, then possibly a blood clot? Ruptured blood vessel?), then perhaps all I really need is to channel the wisdom of Malibu:

"I mean, 80% of feeling good is looking good."

2008-03-06T20:56:00.000-08:00

Wah. The socket where my tooth used to be hurts.

So I let the weirdness slip today. This morning at work, this girl was like...oh wait. Totally unrelated but I had to get this "Overheard at the Office" moment I just remembered out. One girl said audibly over the cubicles, "Where is Benicia?" Girl that I was just about to quote in the weirdness story says "I think it's near Africa." Then a third girl closer to the questioner says "It's a town in the East Bay." I could have been the only one who heard the Africa comment, but I doubt it. Hey! It's one of those specifically located hilarious moments! Well, not really since I have actually snorted while laughing at my desk during the Erin Brady is Steven Tyler's girlfriend discovery. This is called digressing. I'll start again.

So I let the weirdness slip today. This morning at work, this girl was like, "Hey, there was a blast in Times Square this morning." Me being a native New Yorker I was like "Woah." The girl that sits in front of me turned and said "Yeah, oh my god, and it went off at the Marines recruiting station." I laughed really loud and said "Oh my god wow!" I like, laughed really loud. Okay, so I don't think war is funny and I am a pacifist and shit (I teared up during an episode of Super Nanny last night). Whatever, no one was hurt. Anyway, the girl that sits in front of me was like "Why are you laughing?" So I just said "Uh, classic?" It was a mix of emotions I've never really felt before - embarrassment mixed with non-embarrassment. Regret mixed with non-regret. It's like I should have asked "Too soon?" And how is it that much different to think it's fun and cool to play war simulation video games? Coincidentally, I just saw a commercial for a new game called Army of Two, which has a Marines banner ad hovering over it. I mean, now that is sick.

I gotta go, Sister Act 2 is on. Oh happy day.

Maxillofacial Interloper

2008-02-27T18:51:00.000-08:00

I'm back.

Back with tooth decay and an involuntary addiction to pain killers. Do dentists let you keep the tooth they pull from your head?

This seems to be the official worry of my week as I hazily stumble toward a Friday morning extraction. Well, that and the thought of dry socket - yeeeech. What do you mean I can't drink through a straw or spit? And how will I stop my tongue from probing that empty, fleshy gum bowl?

Nonetheless it is time to make peace with my tooth. Though it wouldn't cooperate through a month long root canal plus penicillin and steroids, and though it gives me unrelenting pain that shoots from my ear to my chin, the big guy was always there for me; my first car, the first tongue in my mouth, college. I will certainly miss you, #31, when I am eating Stonewall's Jerquee or when my top back tooth starts to shift and lower without you to keep it in line. Can you believe a replacement tooth costs five THOUSAND dollars, not covered by insurance? See how hard you are to replace, #31? Do you really have to leave me? I can't fathom ever having $5000 to spare. A tooth or a year's worth of rent?

And finally, constipation caused by the daily intake of hydrocodone really sucks.

Just Desserts

2008-02-15T16:36:00.000-08:00

While my home has been robbed of the internet temporarily (gulp! i hope!) I'd like to remind everyone, including myself, what's really important these days:

TGIF

2008-02-01T23:14:00.000-08:00

A couple of reasons why this week has been a force to be reckoned with:

1. No internet at home all week.

2. I missed The Baggy Pants Debate on Dr. Phil. "Pull your pants up, but don't bring the law down." but I like "Pull your pants down, but don't bring the law up." much better, it fits the way I live more.

3. RAMBO. I haven't laughed so hard, so continuously in I can't remember when. Go see rambo. Good vs. Evil still exists in this world and Evil gets its ass bloodily, brutally kicked! Also worth mentioning - I saw the trailer for a movie coming out called Midnight Meat Train. I'll just let you imagine all the kinds of fun that could be.

4. My new manager told me "Get off your high horse." Had he been known for his unbeatable and light-hearted sense of humor, this would not have been a big deal. Had this not been heard by everyone in the office, prompting co-workers to IM me simultaneously minutes later saying "I can't believe he said that to you!", this would not have been a big deal. Had I actually been on some sort of high horse at my average-wage entry-level boring-ass office job, this would not have been a big deal. But in fact, I am only on a tiny horse and I ride that shit because it is fun. Perhaps if he would have caught me outside of the office, laughing hysterically at something stupid or taking a picture of street puke his high horse comment would have been apropos and I could have said something like "No way! This totally rules!" and then farted above his head and clip-clopped away.

5. Does anyone know who the babe with glasses is at the end of that comcast commercial; the one where the big black dude is money and he's riding on a bicycle down the street saying what's up to everyone? Did I just dream that?

Favorite news item of the day

2008-01-28T00:28:00.000-08:00

2008-01-26T17:59:00.001-08:00

Part of the appeal of living in the bay area is being able to beach bum it on all occasions, great and small.

Take pregnancy tests, for instance. Ordinarily a bummer (if you are someone with any sense and appreciation for life) but when done in a proper setting, totally cool - no big deal. It's a beautiful, sunny Saturday in the Bay in January but shit, gotta make sure you're not with child. Best thing to do; walk on over to the safeway and pick up supplies: EPT, New Castle (gotta go with something slightly mature, bold), and some safeway brand robitussin (for celebration later). Head over to the beach, climb up on the rocks and take in that west coast appeal - some hippies making giant, meticulous circles and stars in the sand (at the time it was solstice, I think), plenty of dogs catching frisbees, and the ocean...fuck man, the ocean. Take only a moment for inspiration and a sip of beer, then crouch down in the nearest cave for the big pee. Lay that shit on a rock ledge and go relax - everything's totally cool - no babies 2008.

Do you like music?

2008-01-24T22:23:00.000-08:00

Notes From the Homogeneous Zone (sorta):

Today at work Joe gave me a sweet deal for having a pretty face. We hashed out the deal over google chat. For a total of 50 bucks, Joe will send me an ipod mini, a wireless game cube controller, and mario kart; plus, a drawing. Joe is broke and I can help. Before heading out into the miserable San Francisco rain with a broken umbrella to the post office, I drew a picture to wrap around the money order in order to keep it concealed. I used 45 minutes of paid work time to create one of my best drawings yet -

RASTA PRED-ALIEN

I knew I was pretty good at drawing but when I started this at my desk while listening to Revolution by Bad Brains (live), I knew I was in the zone. I used MS paint for the hat because of stupid work scanner's intolerance for beautiful color. By the way, I LOVE microsoft paint. So many good memories. Like the time I used it to draw a picture of an unforgettable man that appeared late one night on the subway like a giant clown bike messenger from hell. I hung it up at the Knitting Factory (where I worked at the time) and titled it "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?" It turned out to be Dino Sex, the drummer of the Murder Junkies.

CHEERS Y'ALL, NO BABIES IN 2008!

Jamie Lynn Spears is giving her baby to her mother:

"She still wants her daughter to be able to be a teenager, go to parties, hang out with friends and have a career. So she'll take the front seat of caring for the baby and take the pressure off her daughter."
"Lynne is convinced that having a baby on her hip will not help Jamie Lynn's future in the business and she's expecting her daughter to pick up where she left off as soon as the baby is born."

Hmm. So a mom is saying to her daughter and the world that having a baby will do nothing but KEEP YOU DOWN. Wow. How nice it is to be able to do whatever, WHENEVER huh?
WELL FUCKING DUH.
I was talking to Angela on the phone the other day and she mentioned happily that she was on some new birth control. The name of the pill was something I had never heard of and it started with a T. Even when she said the name repeatedly I still got it wrong, "Tripistan? Tripartion? Tripshun?" I told her, "Why can't they name it something similar to what it is, man? Something catchy, like uhhh...I don't know, Prebort?" And she said in a Yaz spokeswoman-type, feminist-y, bubbly voice, ending the slogan in an up note, "Before you A-bort, Pre-bort!"
I love my friends and microsoft paint - this I know.

first Brad Renfro, and now...

2008-01-22T22:24:00.000-08:00

Damn you, Heath.

By the way, I read that Brad Renfro once got arrested for trying to steal a yacht with a friend. Why didn't I ever seek a courtship? sigh...

Stewing in my own sour air

2008-01-13T20:49:00.000-08:00

I had somewhat lazy, forgotten plans to talk about this/post a video clip but was then further inspired to share it thanks to Becca's recommendation via email today:

MY MASSIVE FEELINGS

I'm pretty sure that the desperate voice of a junior high school diary writer is the same way I write as an adult. This notion does not upset me in the least. Anyway, forever thanks to Becca for keeping me going in times of need.

The Bell Jar, 1979:

I rented this a few months back when I had a brief flirtation with Slyvia after having read The Bell Jar for the first time. It must be said here that it is not unusual for me to be around 15 years too late on discovering things that would have shaped a girl's character at 13 or so.

"Sometimes just being a woman is an act of courage."
This tagline for the movie is especially applicable during the ripping off of the evening gown, throwing clothes out of a Manhattan window, while screaming like an actress who is acting like a mentally ill genius for somewhere close to 4 minutes scene. (I do not have a video clip of this, but now suddenly wish I did) Surprisingly, this scene is not - along with the milk on paper scene above - described in the book.

I think the adaptation writers, producers, and directors of this movie came up with the tagline first and ran with it; reading the book only to get a feel for the extraneous, background, plot stuff. While it also seems as though someone working for the studio got a hold of the lost Bell Jar journals; the secret stuff not even Plath was privvy to. Or maybe back in the 70's someone like Laurie Weeks wrote a little fan fiction. See where fan fiction might lead to? I better start that Ballykissangel project I've been thinking about...

The movie is brilliant and has that special 70's creepy vibe I love so much. I have no problem accepting it as a valid interpretation of the author's work, unlike the deep hatred I have of the 1987 movie adaptation of Less Than Zero. How can a movie starring Andrew McCarthy and made from a Bret Easton Ellis novel be so bad? I don't want to talk about. At least not now. At least not without screenshots.

2008-01-11T21:35:00.000-08:00

Notes from the Homogeneous Zone:

In the hallway at work, three people experienced something I missed as I rounded the corner. The one jock-ish salesman-y guy (whom I had previously dismissed because he seems like an asshole) said "Oh my god! that was the funniest thing I have ever seen!" to the two others, laughing heartily. And you know what? Somehow I believed him. I thought about how it would be nearly impossible for me to see the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life in this building. But possibly, if I had seen the hilarious incident in question, it might have been the funniest thing I have ever seen in that particular hallway. This gives me hope and I am now looking forward to more specifically located comedic events at work.

Also noteworthy to mention is that two days this work-week I wore sneakers all day at the office.
me: 2
corporation: 0

My favorite news item of the day:

There is a perfectly calm, rational explanation for this...

In other news, I have the hots for a priest. I met him long ago, just before I left for Ireland. His name is Father Peter Clifford and re-acquaintance with him has been sweet and long overdue. Though I know we could never be together, this has not stopped me from imagining him lustily stripping off his clerical collar only for me.

Of course, I got a little upset when I found out accidentally that he leaves after series 3. This was not meant to happen, I was not supposed to know. So naturally having been exposed to that tiny bit of information, I HAD to read the episode synopses right away. Someone should be in charge of DVD special features, so that people like me do not find out confidential details (spoilers) - um, confidential drama series details that reveal seasons worth of plot that should have taken weeks (okay, let's face it - days) to find out. Details that lead them on wild goose chases all over google. Wild goose chases that lead them to an older non-Father Peter Clifford holding a monkey. Somewhere on the internet my wildest dreams lay dormant and unfulfilled...

In conclusion, I decided to change my pants tonight before going to meet up with some people at a neighborhood dive bar. I grabbed some jeans (only one of two pairs of pants that I wear regularly), slipped them on and noticed they were damp. With only a few minutes to catch the bus, I kept the jeans on but the damp sensation (and memory) stayed with me. There is no rational reason why my jeans would be damp - they were on the topmost shelf of my closet organizer, free from random spills or errant cat urine. I'm without an answer.

2005-11-16T22:15:00.000-08:00

i came home from work through all this faux snow. it was too cold to think about anything i might have had planned or said i would do or wanted to do. and when i walked through the front door it all came flooding back to me when i saw her coat and some cheap toys and coloring books laying all over the couch. right, i have things i said i would do. i can't just go upstairs and lounge on my bed, lie back and stare at the ceiling fantasizing about some alternative sunny lifestyle. i'm not even tired and i've got places to be, killer birthday parties for 6-year old kids to go to. i had momentarily forgotten that a kid's birthday party would be pretty dynamite, especially when there was ice cream cake to be had - possibly even snacks.
so i go upstairs and change into something a little more respectable for the audience. i put on my red hat and my new brown sneakers and long black jeans, a nice shirt to compliment the not-so-nice brown cardigan; the one with all the pilled up sweater balls on the underside of the sleeve and the missing third and fourth buttons. and i think, great, i am so ready for this. i don't have to think about anything but cake. so i go downstairs, sit down and wait for my ride to leave.
as we're going there, i get this sudden rush of feeling lucky and put my hands on madeline's shoulders from the back seat. just to touch this other being was enough to confirm that i was really still fucking there. oh god, okay i'm thinking about everything else again. all at once i'm starting to feel it. this pulse, this nervousness, all this pressure. and in the end i'll start to feel too tired to finish the thought and go the fuck home and go to bed.