Too young to die, too drunk to live

I woke up too early this morning. I had the day off and would have liked to stay in bed, worry free, but my mind was occupied with the grim thought that my license may be suspended because of unpaid parking tickets. The reason it was on my mind was because at breakfast yesterday, Michael, Luke Warm's housemate, was telling us about how his license was just suspended because of unpaid tickets. Hearing that left me half convinced mine was too; I've certainly amassed plenty of parking tickets thorughout my tenure in Somerville, and according to Michael, the criteria for having one's license suspended has changed recently and all it takes is a few unpaid parking tickets.

So, I got out of bed and walked to Davis Sq. in the rain to pay my tickets and find out if I still had an active license. Turns out I do, much to my relief, but I didn't have enough cash in my wallet to pay the tickets, which amounted to almost three hundred dollars (I had my checkbook in hand, but they wanted cash money) I walked to the corner store to get the cash from their ATM, but it wouldn't fork over the cash. So I said "screw it" and went and got my car inspected, instead.

I went to Trader Joe's later in the morning and stocked up on some goodies. I bought two boxes of Quinoa (not sure about the spelling, but it's pronounced keen-wa). The lovely and talented Janelle had exposed me to the delicious South American grain a few months ago and it was positively delicious. In it's raw form, the stuff looks like bird seed, but when boiled it expands and gets puffy. And it yields a ton. I've been eating a lot of it this week and I'm still on my first box. Ahh, Janelle, you always show me something new. What a dear friend you are.

Amazing Warriors/Mavericks game last night! Baron Davis led his underdog team to another victory over the heavily favored Mav's , putting them up 3-1 in the series. The Mav's have never come back from that deficit in the playoffs before. If the Warriors pull this off, they will be one of the great stories in this year's playoffs.

Back to work tomorrow. I think I could stand one more day off, but what are you going to do.

Weng Weng

You say it's your birthday

Last night I took Spira out to dinner for her birthday. We went to a brazillian restaurant in Inman Sq. called the Midwest Grill. We ate too much from the buffet and beside us, a man was playing some impressive bossa nova on his nylon string guitar. There was a large drum on its side next to the man and every so often one of the waiters, a rotund, bald man, would come over and beat away on it. Overall, it was a great meal; I can't remember the last time I had that much meat (there's a joke there, but it's too obvious and I'm taking a break from the obvious these days.)

From there we went to Newbury Comics where I bought her the newest Amy Winehouse album. We noticed Joanna Newsom had a new ep, so Spira bought that for herself and later at my house, I ripped both discs onto my computer. We went to Luke Warm's house after that and hung out for awhile. Spira, after having too much food at dinner, was down for the count in grips of a food coma and fell asleep on Luke Warm's bed. While she slept, we watched a video of a Philipino dwarf named Weng Weng. The clip consisted of edits from a film he was in called "For Your Height Only". He plays a James Bond type and if the film is as entertaining as the video we saw, then my life will be markedly improved (Luke immediately ordered it from Netflix after we watched the clip). Sorry, Little Superstar, there's a new dwarf in town.

Our new house-mate, Rich, moved in today. I talked to him earlier, and it was obvious he was a little stressed about the move. I can't imagine moving in with complete strangers will be something he gets used to right away, especially when the strangers are creepy assholes like me and Bob.

I'm tired and am filled with a mild apprehension. I don't know its source, but it's been looming over me for some time now. Nothing debilitating, but a definite presence. Could be that I need to get laid. I'm way overdue.

I've got tomorrow off from work and will try to relax. My time away from the job, especially lately, has been especially therapeutic. I don't know what I'd do if I had to work six or seven days a week like many people do. I'd probably be ok, but I'd definitely be whiny about it.

Well, I'm off to do some reading. Just finished watching the Sopranos and every time Edie Falco appeared on the screen, I had to fan myself. Looking good, Edie.

Ok, I've said enough and it's time to hit the book.

Baby, you're a Rich man

The NBA is finishing up it's season and all that's left is baseball. I like baseball in doses, but the people in this town are rabid for the game, and it gives me a headache. Which is another reason why I plan on staying in my room for the entire summer and early fall with my tv unplugged. In other words, the way I usually live.
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Rich, our new roommate should be moving in this weekend. I hope, oh how I hope, that he'll be a good fit. This will be the first time in my life that I'll be living with a complete stranger. Sounds sexy! But really, I think it will be fine; if my gut instinct is spot on, then there's nothing to worry about. What's the worst thing that could happen?

Let's say one day I come home and he's dissecting a kitten on the couch with his teeth and blood is staining the upholstery. Now, I'd be peeved about the blood on the couch, because Spira and I had just cleaned it, but the rest I could handle. I'd wait for him to finish up with the kitty and then I'd speak to him quietly about my feelings and he'd apologize for being insensitive about the couch. Not so bad. Problem solved.

Or, if I'm in my room answering one of my many emails (98% of them from the ladies, you can be sure) and Rich kicks my door in and strikes me with a large, dead fish---probably cod--- while wearing a pair of filthy diapers on his head and nothing else. And let's say the attack was completely unprovoked. How would I handle it? Well, I'd defend myself and most likely he'd end up in the hospital with serious injuries, but once he got out of his coma, I'd workshop the incident with him and resolve the matter. Again, problem solved.

There's a fair chance the above scenarios won't come to pass, and even if they do, I've exhibited how skillfully I'd handle them. So bring it on, Rich---there's nothing you can do to bring me down. Asshole.

I dreamed of 747's over geometric farms

It's been a veritable maelstrom at work lately, with me swirling in its eye. I've been fortunate enough not to have been involved with the problems that have arisen as a result of an almost entirely new staff handling an increase in business. Although I'm the manager, I've kept my head, rather admirably, I must say, through all the blunders, angry customers, and confusion that come with an inexperienced staff. I've had three people no-show on their first day of work. I've watched some very sketchy people come and lend a hand for a few hours here and there in the warehouse when things have gotten busy, and have wondered if they're stable enough to not to act on the urge to take a jack-hammer to my anus or pull a gun out of their pocket and, unceremoniously and without feeling, shoot my face to kingdom come. I've watched the whole comedy of errors unfold day after day and know that its a temporary problem. At least that's what I've been telling myself.
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I talked with her last night and after that, much of my night was ruined. Every thing I tried to do was flavored with thoughts of her. Happens every time. Simply put, I'm a big fan of hers. Got to keep this on the down low, or d.l. as those in the know would say, because I'm not sure if she knows how I feel, which is smitten, and I'm not sure if there's even a remote chance---nah, there is, but I need more than that before I reveal any more. I could go on and relate the reasons why I think so highly of her, but I'm going to spare you that, at least for now. Will anything come of this? I have no fucking idea. Didn't have one before and certainly don't now. Ah, but I can at least think of her. That's something, at least.
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I haven't talked to most of my friends in a while. It's down to Spira and occasionally Luke Warm, but I hardly ever see or talk to him anymore. Sometimes, when I pull my boat ashore and take a break from the current, I miss my friends and wonder if they're just fossils to me now. When I think like that, I tell myself it's the nature of things, that people change, move on. Sometimes they come back around, sometimes they don't. And, generally, I'm okay with that. Doesn't mean things have to get worse.

Tonight I'll relax as much as I can and will probably finish reading the The Road. It's been a while since I've burned through a book this quickly, but it had me at hello. Might watch the Warriors vs. Mavs game if it's on early enough.

Ok, I'm done with you and I suspect you were done with me a couple of paragraphs ago. Fair enough.

Cute and happy in the sun

Yesterday didn't go exactly as planned, but it was a great day. I helped Spira bring some boxes up to her apartment, and afterward we went to Mr. Crepe's in Davis Sq for some, you guessed it, crepes. Mine was comprised of chicken, goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, spinach, and some other gratifying ingredients.

Following that, we returned to my apartment and set to work on the couch with the steam cleaner. The couch's true nature is white, but over the years it has taken on a weathered, battered look. To little avail did the steam-cleaner work, but after two turns at the couch, it was evident that something was different about it. I usually reserve my feelings about it while in its presence so as not to offend the poor, helpless thing, but away from it I plot its demise and daydream about its softer, cleaner replacement. If I could explain the concept of change to the couch in a way it would understand, then this need for concealment would not be necessary.

Spira left for home in the afternoon, and as I watched her walk to her car from the kitchen door, cute and happy in the sun, I was hit with the knowledge that this image will reappear later in my life, and be remembered as one of the sweet ones.
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Last night was all about the Kevin. I read from Cormac McCarthy's "The Road" (not at Oprah's behest, mind you), watched the "Soprano's" stagger its way to it's final episode in ways touching and tragic. Then I watched a dvd of the first season of "Extras", one of the funniest and most intelligent comedies I've ever seen. After that, more reading: I finished up Steven Erikson's "House of Chains", and then moved on to his next work in the series, "Midnight Tides. And floating through the cracks of these activities, were the sounds of My Bloody Valentine. For reading purposes, I selected a classical station on our tv's digital set up and lay on the couch with a blanket.

Bob TV returns from Nashville some time today and my days of independence will be over. I used my time wisely, for a change, and managed an effective combination of chores and recreation.

When I'm done with this, I will read and try to watch "The Matador" at some point. I've been waiting for days like this and to my pleasure, they've arrived. I am grateful.

There was a band playing in my head, and I felt like getting high

I think I needed that sabbatical. I hope the monster clip tided you over. I have to admit, I've watched it at least thirty times and it has not gotten old; in fact, with each new viewing I'm discovering more and more of its hidden treasures. I've got to figure out what movie that clip is from, because it could very well become my favorite movie of all time.

So what have I been up to? I've been pretty busy with work, finding a roommate, helping Spira with her move, and trying to maintain my sanity. Last week found me particularly unhinged and all I craved was to be left alone. My mind was fried from work---we were shorthanded all week--and all I wanted to do when I got home was to decompress with a book or a movie and get as much distance between me and the job as I could. I was just tired. Never, throughout it all, did I feel depressed or any of that stuff; just weary. I was ill-tempered only when my free time, or what I hoped was to be my free time, was sanctioned by others. My days off last week consisted of helping Spira move, doing my taxes, going to my parents, interviewing roommates, and listening to Bob TV preach his gospel, and by that I mean listening to him go on and on about a variety of issues. Not anything to slit my wrists over, but added together, these activities became a black bulk on my shoulders and took me away from my need to rest and regroup. But...

But, I'm on the up and up, and feel re-energized. The weather is finally displaying its long-delayed majesty, I have the abode to myself for a few days, well at least mostly---BobTv is in Nashville, but Spira is still here a lot packing her stuff--and I have today and tomorrow off from work. And we have a new roommate, thank god.

Last Sunday, Bob TV and I interviewed our last candidate. We had narrowed our choices to down to a guy named Rich, and decided we should talk to one more person before making our final decision. So we met with Michael, a nice guy currently living in JP, and when he left, Bob TV and I decided, after a few hours of deliberation, that he was our guy. Bob TV called him and offered him the room. He accepted. All that was left was for him to give Bob TV the rent money and we were good to go.

A few days later, Michael called Bob TV and bailed out. For the entire day, Bob TV was frantic: he had taken our ad down and had already emailed Rich, telling him thanks, but we're all set. By some stroke of luck, I was ignorant of what had transpired, despite the fact that Bob TV had left me a voicemail and sent me an email about what happened. I just never got around to checking them, and later, when Bob TV came home from work all wound up, I was contentedly making my dinner. Maybe a half hour later, Bob TV received a call from Rich--he had left him a voice mail earlier, offering him the place-- and that was that. Rich accepted and all was good again. So, any torment I went through over the matter, lasted less than an hour. Thank God!
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Spira and I had a nice time together last night. We went to Trader Joe's in Cambridge and were in heaven. Trader Joe's is one of the only store, besides Newbury Comics, that brings out the "kid in a candy shop" in me. We bought all sorts of goodies: sushi, some magnificent pea pod crisps, pad thai, jarlsberg cheese, cinnamon-chocolate cookies, multi-grain waffles, shrimp pot-stickers, some Trader Joe's Very Green juice, and more. The only thing they didn't have, much to my chagrin, was their spinach-tofu egg rolls. I became addicted to them a couple of years ago and one day when I was hanging out with my friends,Mary and Brianna, I discovered that they were, too. So what did we do about it? Well, we turned the oven on and plopped some of those egg rolls inside it. And when they were cooked? Well, you'd be right if you guessed that we ate them with mirth. Anyway, Trader Joe's is always, always, the place to be.

And now, the place for me to be is somewhere else. I'm going to clean the couch with the steam cleaner that Spira brought by the house to clean her carpet with. Then I'm going to go to the book store in Porter Sq. and perhaps, I'm not sure of the likelihood of this happening, but perhaps I may meet up with Pat, Ally, and Spira, for some breakfast. Actually, considering the fact that I just finished breakfast an hour ago, I most definitely will not be meeting them for breakfast. Maybe I just brought that up so I could name-drop. Wouldn't be the first time.

Maybe he just wants to talk.

The Sound and My Fury

In previous posts, I've written about my neighbor, Steve the Tinkerer, and his exploits outside my window. You know, the FUCKING COCKSUCKER who doesn't have anything better to do than stand outside in his driveway and bang away at ice for three fucking hours or engage in some other activity that requires him to make a ton of noise. I've also mentioned that I don't dislike him personally and that I don't believe he's doing this to be malicious; actually, I'm not sure if I've mentioned that, but I'm saying it now. Anyway, for all that, he's still a FUCKING COCKSUCKER because he's disrupting my quietude. If I wasn't so craven, I long ago would have approached him with a lead pipe and expressed to him in no uncertain terms how displeased I was with his shenanigans.

This morning, he pulled out the big guns: at 7:30 (if you haven't figured it out, I use expletives when I'm tired and pissed), I was woken up brutally by the sound of ladders being raised, hammers being slammed, and wood being broken. I looked out my window and saw a handful of guys going to town on the side of Steve's house. The cold realization struck me that not only will they be there all day, they will be there for at least a couple of weeks. For it appears they are putting up new siding and shingles on the house. Well, I'm glad they started on the side directly opposite my window, because I have the day off and will be able to enjoy the pleasant chaos these fine gentlemen will produce for the entire day. As it stands , they're not making as much noise as I'd like --- they're just ripping off the old siding---but later, I'm praying to God above, they will break out the hammers and start applying the new siding. That way, even if my lazy ass decides it needs to relax in bed with a book, and perhaps take a little nap, I will be overruled by the thunderous report of a quintet of hammers , and will therefore be compelled to take up a more respectable project. Idle hands are the devil's playthings.

I'm a little disheartened at the probability that these fine young men will not be working on my next day off, which is Sunday. My only hope is that Steve will fill the gap and be out there bright and early with a hammer and chisel and have his car radio blasting crappy metal. Something tells me he won't let me down.

(oh, pleasant surprise! Just as I finished writing the above, the crew broke out the hammers. I truly am blessed. I was hoping to have my day off ruined, and now my wish has been granted.)

Runs for your life

From sun up to to sun down and beyond, I've had the shits today. I'm convinced I caught a bug from one of my relatives yesterday, when I was at my grandmother's house for Easter. My father had just recovered from a devastating case of the stomach flu and my sister and my cousin's kids were in the grips of, or were getting over similar ailments. I feel fine except for the unstoppable torrents of watered-down feces that keeps me in the bathroom constantly. It was a challenge trying to work between frequent visits to the bathroom today.

Besides that, I've been interviewing people at work and will be interviewing potential roommates all this week. Luke Warm came by work today and spoke with my boss Karen about working there part time and now it looks like he may be working with me full time. That could be a lot of fun.

I'm tuckered out and will end this. There's more writing I need to do here and on myspace, where I was challenged to write ten weird things about myself, but I'm going to put it off until I have more energy.

I smoke my friends down to the filter

There's not much to say, except it's been a satisfying couple of nights coming home, sitting back, and just plain listening to one of the most essential records I've ever heard, Orphans, by Tom Waits. Tonight, I'm relaxing to Bawlers, the second disc of a three disc set. As the title suggests, this one's got the ballads. I was going to say thank God for simple pleasures, but the pleasure is well beyond simple; it's transcendent. The production is clear and crisp and he's just doing everything right, especially with the vocals.

That's all I've got tonight. I feel the need to dive into a book and stay under its spell for as long as I can get away with. Ah, but then there's Fitzcarraldo. If I'm to keep my Herzog streak alive, I should probably watch some of it. A great film, but one of his longer ones. I'll have to chip away at it over the course of a few nights.

But all that will have to wait a little bit longer, because Tom isn't through blowing my mind yet.

Check ignition and put your helmet on

Around four o'clock today, I smiled at the thought that I'd soon be leaving work for the day. It's been excessively busy lately, because of Passover I'm told, and today was no exception. I had already gone on a few deliveries with one of the drivers, all of them in the city, and I was pretty beat. I was looking forward to heading home and relaxing, but my boss threw an obstacle in my way and asked me if I'd take the pick-up truck and do a couple of deliveries in Cambridge. I'm still unfamiliar with much of my surroundings and the prospect of driving a vehicle I'd never driven before through the traffic-laden streets of Cambridge, with it's disorienting web of streets and reckless pedestrians, who, on principal, will not cast a glance left or right before crossing a road, gave me stress. It didn't appear I'd be arriving home any time soon.

Long story short, I miraculously made my deliveries without getting lost and without totaling the truck, or someone else's vehicle. I felt good about it afterward, because I was forced outside my comfort zone . I'll stop short of saying it was an example of grace under pressure, because although pressure was evident, there wasn't much grace to be found. But still, I acquitted myself well, me thinks.
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There's more I'd like to write tonight, but I'd like to meditate and do some reading. And maybe--maybe if there's time, I will will continue with my Herzog fest and put Heart of Glass in the dvd player and succumb to it's hypnosis, leaving behind the worries, stress, and physical hardship of the day for the ecstatic truth of my friend Werner.

God's away on business

My bed has a leak in it and I need a new one. I'll explain. Before I moved to Somerville, I gave my queen-sized bed to my cousin because it was to big for my room. I was working at The Healthy Back store at the time and got incredible discounts on Tempurpedic, and other like beds, so I figured I'd get a new one when I moved. I had just committed to moving in with Spira and Bob TV when the powers that be closed the store. So no bed. I borrowed my parents air mattress and it's served me well enough for the months I used it. A few days ago, I woke up much closer to the floor than I should have been. The mattress had deflated slowly while I slept. I pumped it back up later that night and once again, I woke up with it shriveled up under me like a popped balloon baking in the Sun. I'm shopping for a new bed because this fucker needs a good nights sleep.

Speaking of sleep, I'm spent after helping out with deliveries at work today. We went all over Boston and Cambridge, and got back to the shop pretty late. That's as much as I want to talk about work right now.

The other night I woke up after a disturbing dream and couldn't fall back asleep for awhile. In the dream, my mother was on the phone telling me that my father had taken ill suddenly and was dying. I think it was cancer, but I can't remember. It spooked me and the thought hit me that, provided I'm still around, I will get a call like that someday. I lied in bed, misty eyed and worn down with the inevitability of things. More than ever, I felt connected to the swift current of life and I felt small within it.

Tonight I called my mother and she told me my father suddenly became sick today. He was coming upstairs from the basement and felt lightheaded. He needed to sit down. Then he vomited. My mother said she's never seen him like that, but feels it's probably just a bug that's going around. I hope she's right.

Bob TV and I discussed our course of action regarding getting a new roommate in the house by May. We were united in the belief that above all things, we want our next roommate to be laid back, domesticated, able to pay rent, and enjoy long walks on the beach. Now comes the part where we interview potential candidates. A tricky task, to be sure--even with people you know, it's always tough to determine whether you'll be compatible as housemates-- but I'm confident we'll find a good fit. If not, whatever--- I'll just stay in my room and do what I do, which is none of your god-damned business!