Hump the day away. That's what I plan to do. I sit here, eating my salmon, minutes before going to work and that's what crosses my mind; hump the day away. Although this may sound sexual, it's not. Trust me, that would be my preferred way to spend today. But no, I simply wish today were over before it began.
The dinner party on Thursday night was a triumphant success, thank you to all who came. Suzye truly outdid herself where the cooking was concerned, making some delicious gnocchi with a "special" tomato sauce, amazing stuffed mushrooms, and fresh baked peanut butter cookies. It was a meal fit for kings, but enjoyed by twenty-somethings.
Following the meal was a truly fabulous time at our resident gay bar here in Olympia; Jake's on Fourth. It was the first time I had ever been there in the over two years I've spent living here and let me tell you, I have no idea why I waited so long. I guess a good reason could be that I was completely unaware that once every month Jake's holds an amateur strip night! What better background could you ask for whilst getting drunk with your closest friends than some awkward male nudity? Taking home top honors for the evening was "BIG MAMA", and rightfully so. I knew she had it in the bag the moment she exposed her ample LED-illuminated plus sized titties. (Who didn't?) Some of us awkwardly inhabited (by invitation) a booth shared with some drunk bastard who's name I never did fully understand. Just when you thought things were getting to be normal he would tap you on the shoulder and mumble some incoherent shit about some nonsensical thing, or how Moya looked like Cinderella, or how Moya was his grandson, or basically anything crazy having to do with Moya. One memorable exchange was when Moya said to me "I'll strip if you strip." to which I replied: "I'll strip if he strips." (pointing to old drunk guy) It took Moya getting pissed and meeting drunk guy outside and punching him in the stomach twice to get him out of our lives for the evening. Thanks for the booth you drunk asshole.
Following Jake's we hung out at Ryan & Corinna's place until we were literally the only guests there. We danced to viral videos and had a great time getting even more excessively smashed. Kudos to all, and thanks for the great night!
Hello from beautiful Tukwilla Washington. I'm coming to you straight from the Residents Inn at Marriot, where cribbage is still boring to watch, just like House. But good thing for me the internet is free! The food is in the oven on this lackluster (weather-wise) afternoon, and spirits are high as we are all happy to finally spend some time together as a family. Hope all of you out there in blog-land are doing the same; enjoying some company in a warm house with good friends, good family, and good food. I'll see you all a little later, one belt notch larger of course.
I can't get over just how fast the weeks seem to be going by lately. Before I knew what hit me I'm sitting here looking at a Friday thinking, damn... where does the time go anyway? But that's fine, if there is one thing better than a week it's a weekend.
Unless I hear otherwise, I think this weekend will be one of truly ordinary proportions. For the first time in a long while I truly have nothing planned outside of Olympia. Suzye and I are planning to celebrate our three year anniversary by having some overpriced dinner followed by a movie, so now that I think of it that's not ordinary at all. Pretty extraordinary really. Why she hasn't kicked me to the curb by now is beyond me. We watched some trailers of the movies that are playing and so far it sounds like The Fourth Kind is what we'll see. Now in my infinite nerdom I have already read horrible reviews on nerdy websites all about how shitty this movie is but no matter. Near as I can tell Suzye needs to know she has a strong man to hold her during the most frightening parts, thereby assuring her that she is amply protected from all evils, alien or otherwise. I''m fine filling those shoes.
Speaking of where does the time go, whenever I am able to wrench the control of the internet from SQ (ethernet cables be damned!) it is always too late to satisfy my addiction. Especially when I have to work a nine to fiver tomorrow.
Here we are now, most of the way through the week and I ask myself; what exactly did I accomplish over the course of these last four days? The only answer I can seem to come up with is that I have made it this far. Sometimes breaking even is a good thing. At least your breaking something right? Where am I going with this you might ask? I'm not exactly sure, but therein lies the charm.
I just wanted to put myself out there for you guys. My phone has been a turd lately and no matter how hard I polish it, a turd remains a turd, nothing more. It has become somewhat of a paraplegic. The directional pad no longer works 97% of the time which means that I am unable to navigate my phone book, (or any other function for that matter) and in addition to that my 9 key no longer works. (Must be all those 1-900 numbers I dial) So I thought I'd send out the tendrils of the interweb and let yall know I'm going to be in Tacoma with one Kale J. Iverson this weekend and I may be spotted riding a Unicorn wearing my ten gallon drinking hat. ;)
Just sittin' here, freshly off work, waiting for Suzye to finally return after her school field trip. Plans for this evening include a succulent Quality burrito, a six-er, and True Blood. Does it get any better than this?
To follow up on my last post I spoke with Albert again today. He brought in some memorabilia from his time in the service including pictures of the planes he flew, the other soldiers he flew with, and all sorts of documentation from that time including old drivers licenses, passports, and even a picture of him as a Hitler youth. Pretty surreal.
Hope to see you guys tomorrow at the Spadoni compound. Until then...
Oh, and on Sunday the first episode of the fourth season of The Venture Bros. airs, so if any fellow fans of the show out there want to share the experience let me know, cause I'm pretty stoked about it.
Damn it, why do I begin tasks such as these at altogether ridiculous hours of the night? I think this one has been building up in my head or something, like some sort of cranial coronary. The blockage just exploded. (WATCH OUT!) The problem is that I haven't posted in so long that I feel some sort of responsibility to make it some substantial or important post, thus becoming my triumphant return to internet blogdom. If your expecting this I hate to break it to you but you'll likely be disappointed, (Spoiler alert!) for this is just another story from a day much like any other...
Today began like many others, having had an enjoyable time hanging out with close friends and having the time of my life doing nothing in it of itself special or outstanding last night, suddenly it's the next day and time to go back to work - business as usual. But when I got there something happened that for one reason or another happens, usually to my detriment I might add, that makes absolutely no sense to me. Why do people you aren't that close to (or are complete strangers with) for no reason tell you their entire life story? This sort of thing usually occurs in some second hand store, dollar store, outlet, or similar semi-shady bargain establishment. But today it happened at the place of my employment with an interesting old man by the name of Albert.
Now Albert usually has some long drawn-out story that 90% of the time involves what his doctor has said about the effects of his arthritis this week, and what procedures they have in store for him. All spoken in the hardly intelligible accent of a foreign old man. But on this specific day he decided to disclose details of how he got all of that shrapnel in his hip that he constantly mutters about. He had in the past talked briefly about getting shot down in the war, but today he (like butter) was on a roll. He told me in detail about the entire experience, along with the subsequent seventy years of his life. Part of me does not feel right about spilling all the details for all to see, but if you see me sometime soon I'll give you the rundown in person. More important than the nitty-gritty specifics were the lessons I learned simply from listening to a man tell me exactly what made his life tick through the decisions he made over the course of his life. A long one I might add.
I should say that the only reason this little conversation between us came to an end is the same reason every single other conversation I've ever had with him has ended; someone else enters the scene and distracts him with a simple hello - something which completely derails the train of thought and the cycle begins again on another tangent, to another person.
It's the only word that seems appropriate following the long slog of moving all of my possessions, and a great deal of other stuff, out of my house. I never want to scrub anything ever again after Suzye, Ryan and I attacked with vigorous swipes and lightning-quick wrists, seemingly every surface of our former domicile. But all that's over now. Lately the much better side of moving has occupied my time-- unpacking and setting up a new "nest". As much as I'll miss the house in Oly, sometimes it feels good to start fresh anew in a different place. Wipe the slate clean so to speak, and write something totally new. Like taking all of the word magnets off the fridge and composing entirely new meaningless phrases.
Speaking of lightning-quick, I was nearly struck by lightning this last week. It was simultaneously terrifying and invigorating. We were half way through our hike through the Yellowstone gorge when the weather began to show it's dark side. Most-- actually everyone but us-- scrambled to their cars like rats attempting to evacuate a flooding subway or something. But we pressed on. And so, at the trail-head, it was Suzye, Lindsey, and I up front when suddenly the sky exploded. I saw a bolt come in to being less than a hundred yards directly in front of me! Nick was behind the three of us and described our reaction as simultaneously ducking and jumping. The air was electrically charged as my brain processed what had just taken place. The remainder of the hike through the rain and hail garnered more appreciation and respect from me than the others due to the weather. For some reason I've always enjoyed the weather when it shows it's darker side. I think the force and power of nature comes across better. Kind of like when in The Fellowship of the Ring when Gandalf intimidates Bilbo.
So I've been meaning to post for a while now, both in general as well as about the most triumphant time I had while at the Samsquanch festival. So here goes. As with all events I attend, the first order of business was to get work off. This time around it was surprisingly easier than normal, I was able to take care of all the arrangements including getting someone to teach my swim lessons, in a single morning. This may not seem, to an outsider, like something that should be that difficult, but I assure you that at my place of work it is an extremely difficult task. So we set off from Olympia, Suzye and I, behind schedule (as usual) to pick up Ashley in Tacoma. Once there we found a mountain of stuff that I had to fit on top of the already huge pile of stuff we had brought for ourselves. But I managed, using my profound tetris-like skills taught to me by the master of fitting shit in a trunk- my father. And so, after roasting green, we set off toward the gorge. We made it just in time to set up our tent in the dark and began to settle for our five day stay. After working the next day in the morning we got to see some behind-the-scenes action and I, for the first time, began to understand all of the work that goes into making an enormous three-day long festival. That night we became acquainted with all of the people we would be working with for the next several days and found them to be for the most part a pretty cool group of people.
On the first day of concert going we saw the rap/electronic duo ChampagneChampagne. I was pleasantly surprised by their show. They sounded pretty good, and had a fresh sound. They pumped up the crowd pretty well also. Following the show, and for the rest of the weekend they were a fixture backstage. Nearly every time we were back there they could be seen hanging out. This brings me to another point about the weekend that was really cool; our ability to go behind the scenes at will. I have never felt so privileged at a gathering before. We were able to eat catered food that was almost always spectacular, as well as mingle among the artists. I felt like the kid in Almost Famous all weekend. Next we saw M. Ward, which was kind of low-key but good, followed by Devochka. We didn't see all of their set but they were good also. That night we saw the Decemberists and they were easily my favorite band of the day. They played mostly new stuff and it was incredible. Their female vocalist kicked ass and took names onstage, belting it out like she owned the place. Awesome. After their set we decided to go load up on grub before work that evening. BTW, I should have menshoned, we worked the night shift which meant 11 at night until 9 in the morning. Pretty grueling, but actually, aside from having to find a cool place to sleep during the day, it was ideal. We could see most of the bands we wanted to see during the day instead of being trapped at the mainstage, only able to see who played there. Anyway, we got in the grub tent, washed our hands and got in line. And thats when I had my first star-struck moment of the weekend. Right in front of me in line for grub was the lead singer of the Decembrists! I had to tell him "great set man!" even though I probably wasn't supposed to. He thanked me and we went on dishing up. It was a pretty cool experience. After eating some miraculous cesar salad and salmon, we headed back out to watch the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. They were amazing as well and garnered more appreciation from me than I expected to give. Toward the end of their set we headed back to camp to get ready for our first all-night shift. We came back down and listened to Kings of Leon and as soon as they got offstage we set upon tearing their stuff down. I got put on backline crew which basically means I took care of various pieces of the drum risers and instruments. While onstage I found a guitar pick with the guys name on it, along with one of the drummers sticks. It felt kind of awkward keeping it in my back pocket throughout the out (term for packing up a bands stuff and getting it loaded onto their truck) but it was completely worth it. After getting them all loaded up, and after a short break, we started unloading all of Nine Inch Nails and Jane's Addiction's stuff, which was an assload! I swear I've never seen so much shit in all my life. They filled up the stage with all of their rigging and lights. It was hard work but we got to see the sun rise over the gorge which was simply beautiful.
We worked until nine and went to sleep. After waking up in pools of our own sweat, we hung around camp for a while getting to know the people we were working with. We eventually made our way out to the festie. While we were walking down from our campsite, which was conveniently located adjacent to the venue, SQ brought it up that we should have puffed some before we left. I agreed, and we made our way to the comedy tent to listen to Zach Galificanakis, who I also saw backstage later in the day, sitting at the same picknick table as me. Anyway we sat down to listen to the guy and befriended some Canadians. One of them asked me for a cigarette and I told them that instead of giving them money, which they offered, I would accept a joke as payment. (Suzye said it would be good karma) Never have I witnessed good karma pay off so quickly! One of the drunk Canadians instantly found a nearly-full pack of cigarettes on the ground and inside was a joint. They gave us a couple smokes and shared the J with us. After that we went to the main stage to watch TV on the Radio. They kicked much ass, as expected, and sounded great. Following that we saw Of Montreal, which had some trippy visuals and a high energy set. Suzye had to see NIN due to some infatuation she had as a rebellious youth, and we again went back to camp in preparation for the evening's shift. We watched from backstage while Jane's Addiction played (bullshit) and the lead singer talked about his penis, everyone else's penis, and other manner of weird, twisted shit. We again worked until 9 in the morning and got dicked over by being fed what Ben coined "prison sandwiches". Other than that the night went off with only marginal complaints from the crew and no one got hurt.
I am getting tired of writing so I'll just sum up the rest quickly. Santigold was INCREDIBLE! Fleet Foxes ruled, and benharper is not even worthy of capitilization. One of my favorite bands of the whole weekend was Explosions in the Sky. If you haven't head of them you should check them out! Do it now!
Oh, and BTW an event that will go down in youtube history took place in the copulating couple on the rocks during the Decemberists show. Hilarious!
Today was one of purification. Let's just say that the house's ass has been officially made grass. From my room to the pink (?) scum all over the tub, a new shower curtain, Zuke's cage, the living room, and even the massive pile of recycling in the laundry room, the dirtiness has been decimated. Feelin' good, feelin' grand, the vagina is no longer filled with sand.
Had the day off to accomplish all of this save for the lifeguard inservice I just got home from. We had to do a drill where we swim the length of the pool, retrieve a ten pound brick from the bottom, bring it to the surface and swim with it to where we started. We were timed and I won with a time of thirty-four seconds. I am told by my boss that I will get a prize. I wonder what It'll be. Probably a snickers or something. That's cool, I'll take a snickers.
Not much else going on in my life as of late, just passing the days until I am reunited with all of my friends along with the love of my life. I really mean what I said in my last entry about the sixteenth, if you guys don't show, you'd better have some excuse like "I went to the zoo and fell in with the lions and they tore all my limbs off, threw me into the gorilla cage where I was beaten with my severed limbs, tossed in with the crocks and torn into small pieces, and last but not least hurled into a whale aquarium where I was sifted through baleen and excreted as whale shit." It really has to be that good. So if you can't come you better start thinking of something.
I got home from work this evening and and saw Jeremy standing motionless in the living room. When I asked what the hell he was doing he told me to listen. I did. I heard nothing. I proceeded to make some dinner and hang out and forgot about it. Presently I sit in the living room and there is an incessant scratching coming from the wall. Having ruled out the cats, being the obvious assumption, I conclude that it must be some mouse or other critter trapped between the wall. How this kind of thing happens I have no idea. What I do know is it is actually getting LOUDER! and more frequent. God help us all from going insane.
In better news, I just watched this video and it made me feel warm inside:
So the story goes I bought a 100 minute prepaid phone card from Ralf's for $7.00 with the intent to call SQ down under. Suzye gave me the number in which to call and I figured out the country and city codes to complete the call. After dialing seven hundred thirty-four numbers I am told that I have "sixteen minutes for this call." Fine. I understand that it being an international call that it would cost more but realize that I lost 84% of my entire minutes available, outrageous. But fine, whatever, at least I'll get to hear my precious baby's voice right? WRONG. Every time I call it says that "the number you are trying to reach is busy." So this means that Suzye (or Hattie) has been on the phone for five+ hours... I don't think so. At least I hope not. About five minutes ago I tried once more and this time I somehow had seven minutes available, while still being unable to complete the call.
If anyone knows about these sort of things and how to avoid wasting your hard-earned money, please share your knowledge with a bra.
p.s. Hulu is shit. Not the shit, but shit. I gave you my personal information with the hopes of being able to watch full episodes of futurama and what do I get? Clips? Dick move.
First and foremost, thank you all for your best birthday wishes. Let me tell you, and this becomes truer every year, that I really don't feel any older. I am equally as immature as I was last week, I shower every bit as infrequently, and have yet to make millions in the stock market (or however people make millions anyway). Yes not much has changed. The monotony of my routine is staggering. I have been meaning to do laundry for nearly a week now and let me tell you, things don't look good for tomorrow either. I rather feel like a cheetah I remember seeing at the Lincoln Park Zoo while visiting Chicago which had worn a circular path around a large log, pacing ever forward yet ending up right where it started. In it's eyes I saw the envy of those outside it's caged existence. Olympia is my cage and this house my log.
With the coming summer things should be different. New work, new destinations, new times with good friends await me. Fuck Olympia! Hooray!
This weekend I cross the mountains to visit my parents. Cake, ice cream, good 'ol sitting around with the fam. After all is said and done perhaps I'll actually feel like a milestone in age has been achieved. As of now it hardly feels as though I've had a birthday at all. In celebration I took work off, did some homework, and played some vids. It was without a doubt the least eventful, or meaningful birthday in memory. I am beginning to realize that at some point what does it really matter? One more trip around the sun. As arbitrary as anything else I suppose.
Sometime too much really is never enough. Take instance this very evening; I should, for all intensive purposes, be sleeping right now. But sometimes when you've felt you have paid your dues and done your time, you feel a little "me" time is in order. After working on the essay/keynote that will not die for a week on top of regular homework and two unrelenting jobs, when you get a few moments to yourself you tend to milk it for all it's worth. This begins to explain why I remain conscious at this irresponsible hour. But in my mind I know that the sooner I sleep, the sooner I wake, only to repeat this relentless pattern.
The time, now approaching 2:30, has become intimidating. The battery meter hovers slightly above 30%. My stomach whispers subconsciously to me "you better shut down or give me fuel", and my leg has beaten the rest of my body to the punch in falling asleep.
I have spent so much time in front of the computer screen today I feel as if I were to watch the matrix I could actually read the flowing green script of the matrix itself. My eyesight is probably worse now than when I awoke this morning. Today alone no doubt accelerated the inevitable time in which I will have to wear glasses. The sad thing is I have gotten extraordinarily little actual work done. To my own credit most of it has been research, and therefore amounts to little that is organized and tangible. I am beginning to think I have bitten off more than I can chew. I started class on Monday and, like an idiot, volunteered when no one else would to be the first to do a presentation in front of the class. This involves a four page research paper along with a keynote (powerpoint) presentation by Monday. So I have used my day off this week to try to get something together. I am going to my parents house in eastern Washington this weekend and will have little time to accomplish anything homework wise due to the combined eleven hours of driving I can expect. My whole day has been like that Sublime song about not wanting to get out of bed. It keeps calling to me, promising unlimited comfort and sweet dreams. All day I've been like a kid in a candy store with no pocket change.
Freshly home from a lengthy day out and about. Today was the ape caves adventure in which I'd been looking forward to for about a week. Any chance to depart Olympia is a welcome one for me, and this was no exception. We hiked for about two miles in the snow and entered at the top of the lava tube. As we approached the depression in the snow that was the entrance I, being first in line, made my way down into the dark unknown. Some steep-ass metal stairs, which eventually turned into a ladder, greeted me as I inched my way down the snowy hill into the cavern. It was all pretty intense as the blackness engulfed me, and as I got to the bottom I saw that about ten meters inside there was a beautiful moss coated skylight with rain trickling through, which distracted me momentarily from the fact that I am indeed alone underground with a void to either side of me. We walked to the beginning of the tube and then back to the entrance where we had our lunch. The only scare we had was when the cavern suddenly started to fill with smoke. The first thing through my mind was "oh shit, the lava's triumphant return!" But as it turned out some idiots in front of us had started a fire, for what reason I am unsure. The only thing I can think of is that they were smoking weed (which I definitely caught a whiff of) and, seeing our lights coming, got paranoid and lit some TP on fire to cover the smell. Sounds like a plausible stoner scenario right? When we got to the main entrance we decided to proceed down the tube long enough to escape the light and turn off all of our lights for a good five or more minutes. We all had weird sensations including seeing textures, light sorces from behind us, hearing voices, and generally going momentarily insane. Someone earlier told a story of a man who got stranded in a cave with no lights by himself and was not rescued for three days. I can only imagine the terror he must have felt having only experienced complete darkness for a matter of minutes. Hopefully I can snag some pictures of the excursion and post them at a later date. For now my dogs are tired and I think I'll make some tea and go to sleep.
Ah I feel it. I feel the power! The power of the internet is upon me. I can feel the ones and zeros coursing through my vanes! Today the thing I have repeatedly claimed that I was going to get has finally been gotten; a wireless router. I write this not from a smelly library, a noisy cafe, or the all together depressing vibe of school, but from my couch. I am watching 2001: a space odyssey with Ryan and genuinely chillin'.
Hopefully this means I will be more inclined to post, not having to go out of the way to do so. This may have mixed results, which begs the question; do you feel lucky? well... do you... PUNK? You could be having a shitty day and, noticing that I made a post thought, "hey, that Randall's a cynical bastard, maybe he said something that'll make me feel better." But NO, turns out I had a great day and posted about happiness, cheer, and flowers and shit. Now what? Now you feel let down and even worse than when you started. But keep in mind that the opposite could also be true. Say, for instance that your day was so rad that it shit awesome. You might see that I posted and think, "hey, that Randall's a cynical bastard, lmaybe he said something that'll make me feel better." and BAM! I hit you with a sob story about how my entire day was spent thinking about my far-away love in Austrailia and drinking my own tears, recycled through a filter to remove the salt, while constantly hugging and petting my cat against her will.
I could not make it the entire month of March, it was getting to itchy!
I've been neglecting this thing and for that I'm sorry. Most of my thoughts lately have been scribbled on the tear-soaked pages of dear diary, given my recent state of affairs. (The loss of your better half for two months will make even the most lizard skinned dude a little down in the trousers) I have coping mechanisms though, like anyone else, and should these prove semi-successful I should be, in no time at all, reunited with the one I love. In the grand scheme of things I really don't have it too bad, with the advent of internet I am able to at least send and receive messages without the use of snail mail.
That's all for now, got to get back to my coping mechanisms, i.e. video games and alcohol.
Right now I feel exactly like the computer I'm typing on, the only difference being it gets to sleep every now and again, and the fact that my internal cpu gets exhausted. Well, I guess that's not really true, Suzye's computer gets exhausted and shuts off now and again without warning. What I mean to say I feel mechanical, but I'm finding out just how bad of a machine I am. When I was a kid I wanted to be an astronaut, but I'm thinking there is no way I would be able to hack it after being subjected to this much stress and cracking as I have. I gave up on being an astronaut because I hated math and didn't think it would ever be possible. Seems like thoughts really do become things...heh heh. wait a minute, never mind, that is sad, not funny. I'm loopy, I should now say for the record that you shouldn't expect this post to make any sense, basically I am doing it only for the guilt of not posting for a while, and the complete lack of anything else to do. You see, I've been going for I don't even know how long without a day off of work and I may be for the first time truly at my whits end. After a long work-week followed by a seemengly equally long work-weekend (the closest to a weekend I get... wait a minute that does not make any sense... there are no shades of grey, either it's a weekend or it isn't...right?) Anyway, the point is that I lost an hour with daylight savings and I think I lost something else too... though I'm not quite sure what it is, or was. Maybe I was supposed to do something important during that time, but never did it because that hour was lost. Pressing on, after all of these shanatigans (SP?) I had to be at work at five am this morning and this did not help matters. Luckily though, it waited to snow until after I arrived. Had it not, my two-wheeled commute would have turned into something of an expidition. After work I asked my boss to raise my wage for teaching swimming lessons to that of lifeguarding (for some reason I get about fifty cents less per hour) and he basically said in so many words that he actually does not have the power to do this, and furthermore if I get a raise then everybody else has to also, and he is a stressed out idiot figurehead, and so on and so forth. Having utterly failed, I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and rode my bike to the transit center to catch a bus home. I got off the bus, checked the mail, and proceeded directly to bed to take a nap before class this evening. I was nearly in sleeps clutches when a disturbing thought occured to me.. HOLY FUCKING SHIT FUCK I FORGOT TO GET MY FUCKING BIKE OFF THE FRONT OF THE MOTHERFUKING BUS. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!! To give you a bit of backstory this is not the first time I have done this. The other time was after work one evening and I realized it right after I got off and sprinted as fast as I could after the bus. Luckily for me It stopped at the next stop and I was able to retrieve it no problem. A funny little tidbit on that is by sheer chance that as I was sprinting with every fiber of my being, Suzye was driving down Frederick street, almost home, when what does she see but yours truly, leaving it all on the field so to speak, running by. I, walking my bike, approached her car and she had the most worried look on her face until I explained what had happened. Anyway, to wrap up the story I did get my bike back, I just had to go to the transit center to retrieve it after making a phone call. What it meant though, is I was unable to take my sacred siesta. I hopped a bus to Evergreen and it is here I sit, half asleep and haggard, typing these run on sentences and misspellings that, for the first time, condone the title of my blog. I had some other topic to discuss, but I forgot it in my incessent rambleing. It was no doubt more noteworthy than what I have written but hey, what ya gonna do?
The following is an excerpt from my journal written Sunday, March 1st while working at Costco.
America depresses the fuck out of me sometimes. Two little girls just strolled by me repeating "Coca Cola" to each other, each holding soda's bigger than their heads. Sooner or later the first words out of our children's mouths instead of "da-da" or "ma-ma" will be "McDonalds", "Pepsi", or "Huggies". Now more than ever I feel so out of place in this country. I would even go so far as to give up such awesome technology such as airplanes, automobiles, and even the internet if it meant I could live in a world where people were not slaves to corporations; all of us relentlessly sucking of the teet of our inherited consumerism. It would be a world in which I could have a distinct place and purpose in a community, preferably in a forest. Instead of buying in bulk at costco I could actually earn something by hunting a wild animal, using my whits and my strengths rather than my fucking debit card. I'm sick and tired of having to wade through shopping carts and people riding on motorized scooters, constantly seeing commercials for shows I'll never watch and products I don't need and will never buy, being told how I can get cash back and zero percent APR. Sometimes I am simply discusted by the world around me.
Now maybe not all of you readers know that every weekend I am slapped in the face with these issues, images, and stark fuckin realities, but I want you all to know that it is starting to wear me thin. Don't get too worried on my behalf, I'll be ok, maybe it's just that I've been far too long without a camping trip.
Dear Suzye, I don't really know how to tell you this, but the mafia wants you. I think I realized it when I tripped on peanut butter in your closet and I saw you pull the clothes off the elephant in the corner. I'm sure you're cowardly enough to understand that I get turned on only by garbage men. I'm returning your nose hair clippers to you, but I'll keep your mom as a memory. You should also know that I get sick when I think of your feet and our relationship is ruined
These last few days have served to remind me that I am indeed a resident of Olympia, as the rain has come and surely will persist through May. I'm not sure exactly why Oly has the worst weather on the sound. Maybe it's the geography, or the water, the low pressure mixing with the high, or maybe it's simply the attitude of inhabitants that brings about monsoons and all around gloominess 24/7. On Monday I did not see the sun until 5:46 pm, aint that some shit? (Kale don't comment, I know you have it worse but just let me have this one)
Melencholy thoughts all around on this wednesday morning for some reason. It could be that all my friends have left me, or will leave me, for in a couple three weeks my only company will likely be pickles, and sometimes I think the only reason she hangs around is due to the fact I provide her food.
There are times when I see redeeming qualities in the populace and I think, shit, humanity may make it after all. But most of the time I'm sure we're fucked. An example occured today in the post office. I got into my backpack to get out the piece of mail I was sending when I heard someone talking about me from behind. I had my headphones in my ears, but was not listening to music, so they must have assumed I could'nt hear them. Anyway they said something about me not being in line (I moved over about a foot to lean by backpack on a counter so I could retrieve my parcel). I turned toward them and obviosly caught them off guard and asked if they would like to go in front of me (being genuine). And the ladies formed like Voltron into a super-mega bitch, talking mad shit about how I was cutting in line. Keep in mind that she clearly showed up after me. Some guy behind them in line was like "what's with the argument" to which I replied "I don't know." I turned and ignored the beastly bitches, my heart pumping, and waited to mail my letter. I thought people were supposed to be nice to one another in generall, especially in such a depressing place as the post office. I mean, it's like being a POW with someone, Isn't there supposed to be some basic form of congeniality between people? I guess not.
Anyway, today is my day off from work which means, as usuall, that I am called in to cover someone elses shift (which I was earlier, like clockwork). But at least I had a legitamate excuse; I am meeting with someone my professor recommended to help me with my writing. I hope this person can help me, as I would love to be a better writer, but having never met this person there remains some doubt in my mind. The more I think about it, the more I'm sure that writing would be the career best suited for me. Maybe I need to have a succession of adventures and write about it like Kerouac, or seclude myself in a small cabin in the woods like Thoreau, or maybe just drink like a fish and fail to hold down any real job like Bukowski. At any rate, I think a day at the office comprised of writing in front of a screen suits my dispositoin just fine.
After the meeting it's homework time, followed by the food bank with SQ, (ain't being poor grand?) followed by petco to get mealworms for Zuke, then homework, homework, and more homework.
So I show up to the library and am confronted with a choice, sit next to the bums (which I have already posted on) and the WOW players, or sit at these little study cubicle things. I choose the latter. But each one has something on it, some books, a magazine, a pencil carrier, etc. There are like four or five of these each with something on them, no one there. So I move a book and sit down. I sit here for about 40 minutes puttering around the internet and so on, when some girl hovers in front of me, staring me down. I take off my headphones and look at her as she grabs her stuff. I apologize and she continues to stare at me with her snaggle-tooth. I finally, after an awkward time ask if she would like the spot, and she says that "It is hers". I close my laptop and start to put it away when she sits down at the same cubicle as me, (on the opposite side of the partition, facing me) and goes about her business. Ok, first of all WTF!? Does anyone really own anything in a Fucking library? Even if you left something in the library you did own it would likely be stolen by bums in that 40 minute time frame anyway! And secondly, how did you not notice that there was an empty spot litterally inches from your snaggle-face? Bitch really got my goat.
Only have time to write a short post before going to work. I spent too much time reading everyone's blogs that I have hardly any time for my own. I started teaching swim lessons again, a decision I'm sure to regret given adequate time. The first class I teach is for two brothers that are home-schooled. It is a bit of an awkward situation in that the younger brother is far more coordinated and athletic than the older brother, so I have to be conscious not to make anything a competition. The next class is a private lesson with one kid who I'm sure I have no idea how he has even survived in this world this long. He it TERRIFIED of water, hates to even be in the stuff. His parents must caudal him far too much for someone his age. I saw him take his first lesson with another instructor, Jason, and he was literally screaming the whole time. I am the third in the line of instructors he has been passed down to. He seems to be doing better now though, now the trick will be to get him to be able to actually make some amount of forward progress in the water. The third and final class is as Leyhe would put it, "A shit-clone" or a "hair trigger double barreled shit machine gun". It is a class of eight, half of which are classically trained hooligans. Keeping them in line for 45 minutes is like controlling Normandy on D-day. I should just go on strike until they offer me anything but peanuts, but hey, such is the life while working for a non-profit I guess.
I sit here utterly lacking inspiration. I just wrote an awesome post, but forgot to publish it before I restarted my computer cause I just downloaded something. That is a shitty feeling. Yall are just going to have to believe that it was the bees-knees cause I'm not writing it again, it just wouldn't be as good. To pack it into a shell, whichever nut you like, let's just say that when living in the town in which I reside the pinnacle of cool is not living in a house at all. (Or an apartment, or even a car. Sorry Ricky) The summit of Mt. Hip is homelessness. (And dirty neon clothing)
Don't spend too much time there, as you'll realize they are far smarter and more interesting than I am. Next thing I know they will be calling me on the phone like "Hey man I hung out with your friends and we had a rockin time" And I'll be sitting at home playing video games by myself and sobbing about the fact my only friends are in GTA IV. (And even they eventually stab me in the back and steal my girlfriend.)
On a valentines day note Suzye and I went rollerskating and then ate some sushi. I'll try to post the videos sometime this week. I had not been skating for years but I managed to get 3rd place in the race of my age group. Never you mind that there were 3 entries, and the guy that won had some slick speed skates while I had the rental specials that whenever you started going fast vibrated uncontrollably. Also it is noteworthy that they were the same exact model rollerblades that I used to have while in elementary school. (The original rollerblades. Except mine were blue. Waaaay cooler.) To anyone reading this: come visit me in Oly and we'll go skating. Its fun and dirt-cheap. Following the skate session we went to Sushi House, which serves up litterally the best sushi I have ever eaten. (Sajo roll for life!)
Today may turn out to be a monumental day. At the pool we have a water fitness instructor who is nothing short of hilarious. Every time she works it's always the same, she comes out of the locker room with mini boombox in hand, plugs it into the wall, places it on a step, (the chord is not long enough to reach the plug in when the boombox is on the ground) and gets in the pool. She does all of this to accommodate her tape. (we only have a CD player) The tape in question, the same tape she brings everytime, is none other than Ultimate Dance Party 1997. In case all of you aren't familiar with said gem, here's a general track list: (I don't know the actual song names so I'll just put the main lyrics)
"Boom Boom Boom, let me hear you say waayo, waayo!" "Dancing free until the morning light... together forever..." "Total eclypse of the heart"(late '90s techno version of course) "Another night, another dream, I'll be with you" "Ah hah yeah hah, wanna be my lover?" "It's a beautiful life, oh oh oh oh" and the classic: "I like to Move it, Move it!"
Basically it's like being in the movie "Night at the Roxberry" the whole time!
This is by no means an all inclusive list, just the ones we heard today. The reason, as stated earlier, this may be a monumental day is that it is likely the last day she will bring this tape, the reasons being (1) The massive outcry to turn it off by the class (this happens nearly everyday) (2) She is having gastric bypass sergery on Tuesday (shows how effective water aerobics really are) and vows to have new music before she gets back.
I cant help but admit that as much as I bitch about having these lump of shit songs stuck in my head for at least the remainder of the day I'll probably miss them when their gone.
Many bums have come and gone since I've been sitting here in the library. One of which described in detail how he got beat up by some guy with a skateboard today. He stumbled in and sat down at a table next to me and laid his head down, making various grunting and groaning noises. I didn't think much of it since this happens all the time, but then someone who I assume he knew (or do all bums just know one another?) started talking to him. He said he'd gotten his ass kicked, been beat up with a baseball bat, pipe, and all other sorts of torture and punishment in the corse of his life, but this was the first time he'd ever been fucked up by a skateboard. To this yet another bum who looked like a walking quilt of various patches (Santa Cruz, pirate skull and crossbones, green teddy bear, etc.) replied: "You know there is a type of kung-fu using skateboards people do, it's called truck-fu." (I swear to god he actually said this) (anyway I couldn't make that shit up) Needless to say this sentiment didn't seem to ease him, as he continued to grunt and groan for another couple of hours or so.
At this point you may be wondering what it is I am doing in the library for hours on end. Don't worry, I haven't started playing WOW or anything, I'm doing stuff for school. I won't bore you with the details just know that I have more on my plate right now than Ghandi after one of his many fasts. By the way the picture at the top (I couldn't figure out how to put it at the bottom) is what one looks like after spending said hours at a computer screen researching a 17th century dead dude.
I've got some sound advice for all you kiddies out there, as I'm sure this is likely the reason for reading my blog in the first place I'll clue you in to a real jewel; don't watch crazy Japanese videos on YouTube and then promptly fall asleep. You will have some crazy ass dreams. Guaranteed. I have never felt more Japanese in my life, because if this is the kind of stuff they are constantly subjected to in their waking life then they have to feel as strange as I do presently throughout their entire lives. A scary thought. But then again they dream up this stuff in the first place allowing us all to feel the sheer joy their culture exhudes. At least on T.V. anyway.
Just finished writing my first paper since my return to school and I have to say it feels damn fine. Now one might say: "It's a two page paper, get over yourself." And to them I say Fuck off, it's a big step for me and I worked long and hard on it. Asshole.
And so, with all my responsibilities taken care of, I get to surf the world wide interweb for the calamities and overall ridiculousness of my peers until Suzye gets out of class. Yeeeeaaaahhh!
I said this about 2008 one year ago and '08 sucked. At best it was the third best 2008 ever. So what all-yall-gon do about it? First off, to all of my friends who are fiddily-fucking around the globe: COME HOME. (You know who you are) I know you are doing good or whatever, having grand, no doubt life changing experiences, but in all actuality the greatest good you could do for me right now is to be in close proximity to me. That way I could have a friend to hang out with, or maybe even two. Ok there, I said it; I dont have any friends. I've always been a semi-popular guy (especially with the ladies) but here in the epicenter of the hipster fuckin universe its hard for a guy like me to avoid climbing a clocktower and... well... you know.
2009 did however kick off with a bang. For any of you who might be reading this, do not take offense to what I am about to say, but my expectations were not all that high. But man o man was I sure wrong. Just sayin, could have been the greatest n.y.e. in the history of my sad little world. For the uninitiated, (there's a good chance ninty percent of the people reading this were there, but then again, alcolol was involved) it was a shit show. In hindsight the catalist was the massive amount of alcohol. We had it in spades; a fifth each of whiskey, vodka, scotch (thanks Kirra), and rum. Also a twenty-four of mirror pond, an eighteen of vitamin R and the coup de gras; a huge bottle of champaigne. The latter of which I did'nt even see until the next day. Once all of us were saturated, the night culminated in a sushi rice fight. Nuff said.
So I'm calling in all of you, lets do whatever it takes to make this truly the best 2009 EVER!