Over the last couple of days my Harry Nilsson cd's came in the mail---Pussy Cats and the two-on-one-disc Harry/Nilsson Sings Newman--- and I'm in bliss. Pussy Cats is far better constructed than I've been led to believe. Recorded during Harry and John Lennon's famous "Lost Weekend", the album has reached legendary status, but not for the right reasons. Yes, it's a bit more scuffed and debauched than the average Nilsson offering---and that is why the people who love it, love it--- but a lot of care and craft went into the making of it. It's a real warm, deceptively casual, and beautiful record. Some great musicians played on it: Sneaky Pete, Keith Moon, Jim Keltner, Ringo Starr, Klaus Voorman. And it doesn't hurt having John Lennon producing.
Harry Sings Newman is fucking brilliant. I've always loved Randy Newman's early stuff, but his vocals didn't do it justice. Listening to Harry Nilsson, one of the best vocalists I've ever heard, singing his songs, has made my month.
--
Heading up to Lake Winnipessake (I'm 97% sure I misspelled that) this weekend to see Bri, who's visiting from California. Her and Mary rented a condo for a few days and it should be a fun time. Luke Warm, Spira and Seany Boy, Mary's friend Rob, and Mara look to be the crew who'll be there. Maybe Foley and others will show their mugs.
--
In Andover this morning, I drove behind an insufferable, loathsome, stupid fuck of an old codger all the way into work. His driving was fine until he had to make a turn, which unfortunately he had to do numerous times. For whatever reason, he couldn't make a turn, no matter how slight, without coming to a complete stop. This, as you might imagine, irked me a bit. After more than a few minutes of this, I was frothing and hurling insults and curses that will one day, I'm sure, hinder my chances of getting beyond the Pearly Gates. But fuck it, this clown was a hazard and needed to be screamed at. Oddly enough, I miss him. I'll have to ponder why.
Now, bitches, I must leave you. A short post, I know, but what are you gonna do. I've matters to attend to before I tuck myself into beddy by.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Honey, don't let your deal go down
I ended getting Watchmen (thanks anyway, Frank) and so far, so good. Has one of the best written beginnings I think I've ever read in a comic, or anywhere else for that matter. I'm sure when I'm done reading it, I'll be pining for the movie to come out, which won't be happening for some time , so I'll have to content myself with masturbating. Aww, now why did I have to go and say that? And here I was trying to keep this post squeaky clean. Now I've sullied it by introducing that wicked, immoral act into the equation. Better quit while I'm ahead and leave all talk of the Donkey Punch out of this post (I confess I'm not exactly sure what that is, but I'll bet Luke Warm's soul that it's not very romantic).
--
Speaking of Luke Warm, we had a little send off for him and Heidi, the paralegal, who was also leaving. It was kind of bittersweet. Even though I only work with Luke Warm one day a week, it was still nice having him there, something to look forward to. And Heidi was really sweet and will be missed, too. I don't know what Tim and Jeff will do without her. She was very good at her job.
We were all going to go out for some drinks after work, but both Luke Warm and Heidi had to get home. Luke had to hurry home and scout apartments online (the place he and Scott were about to move into was given to someone else, leaving them high and dry) and Heidi needed to move into her new place, which was not given to someone else. We're going to reschedule and I hope it goes down, because it'll be nice to see everyone outside of work. I think I'll bring some DMT to make things more interesting.
I stopped off at the grocery store after work and before I went in, I dropped by the bookstore fro a few minutes. When I left, I saw Mara about fifty feet ahead of me. Her back was to me and it looked like she was headed home. I called her and had fun describing her surroundings to her until she figured out I was physically nearby and wasn't using my Shaman skills.
So the two of us did some grocery shopping, after which I took her home. I needed the night to myself, but we'll see each other today.
And with that, I think I'll go masturbate.
--
Speaking of Luke Warm, we had a little send off for him and Heidi, the paralegal, who was also leaving. It was kind of bittersweet. Even though I only work with Luke Warm one day a week, it was still nice having him there, something to look forward to. And Heidi was really sweet and will be missed, too. I don't know what Tim and Jeff will do without her. She was very good at her job.
We were all going to go out for some drinks after work, but both Luke Warm and Heidi had to get home. Luke had to hurry home and scout apartments online (the place he and Scott were about to move into was given to someone else, leaving them high and dry) and Heidi needed to move into her new place, which was not given to someone else. We're going to reschedule and I hope it goes down, because it'll be nice to see everyone outside of work. I think I'll bring some DMT to make things more interesting.
I stopped off at the grocery store after work and before I went in, I dropped by the bookstore fro a few minutes. When I left, I saw Mara about fifty feet ahead of me. Her back was to me and it looked like she was headed home. I called her and had fun describing her surroundings to her until she figured out I was physically nearby and wasn't using my Shaman skills.
So the two of us did some grocery shopping, after which I took her home. I needed the night to myself, but we'll see each other today.
And with that, I think I'll go masturbate.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
You can't put your arm around a memory
I was at Newbury Comics in Burlington after work today and checked to see if they had The Watchmen, Allen Moore's graphic novel. They didn't have it and I wasn't suicidal or even slightly grumpy over the fact; I've got plenty of reading material right now. On my way back to the highway, I decided to run into Barnes & Noble, which was on the way, to see if they had the book.
At the store, I rode the escalator upstairs and headed to the graphic novel section, where I searched in vain for the book. I figured they'd have a few copies of it because it's one of the most popular comics ever. As I scanned the shelves, a woman, who I recognized immediately, walked alongside a B&N employee towards me.
I remembered her face but not her name. She was someone I worked with during my brief stint as a waiter at Paparazzis, and damn, was she hot! She was one of the people at the restaurant I got along with and I was pretty sure she had a crush on me. I found that bewildering, because normally, especially then, I would rarely entertain the notion of an attractive, younger woman having any feelings for me other than platonic.
I didn't think, based on our personalities, we'd be a good match, but I wasn't adverse to having fun with her in an erotically-charged capacity. The rub was her rough and tumble boyfriend that, even though she was aching to dump him, was still an active presence in her life. Which meant if I ever became involved with her, my chances of suffering through an awful beating were greatly increased.
Eventually, I left the restaurant with nothing of consequence ever occurring between us. I didn't feel lousy about it, but I sure would have loved to have had some adventures with her. That was a few years ago, before I moved to Somerville.
Back to the present. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she stood near the B&N employee who was trying to locate a book for her. I thought she must be looking for a book for her boyfriend or brother---she never seemed like the graphic novel type. I hovered around the section for two reasons, the first being the most obvious: I wanted to get a good look at her---the looking was good, I tell you---and I wanted to continue looking for the book I came to get, but I didn't want to get too close to the situation.
Eventually, after debating whether I should go talk to her, I decided I'd go ask someone who worked there if they had The Watchmen in stock. As I waited my turn at the little circle of a help desk, Kristin (just remembered her name) approached, still trailing the woman who was helping. The woman asked the girl at the desk, right before I was able to make my own query, if she knew whether they had the The Watchmen in stock. The girl said she wasn't sure and made her way over to the graphic novel section.
I followed the group in order to have my unspoken question answered. As the girl poked around through the books, I wondered at the strange coincidence of Kristen and I both looking for the same book at the same time. I'm a believer of meaningful coincidence, though I haven't seen it in action very much, and I figured this was one, and I should probably go talk to Kristen.
I never did. I convinced myself that all that would happen would be a bit of small talk and me getting home later than I intended. So, why bother? But I liked her---she was sweet, had a subversive sense of humor, which took the edge off the shitty job, and was hot. I determined I'd go talk to her. What the hell? Of course, by the time I made my mind up, she had already left the store.
What's the moral of the story? I don't know, probably something about not passing up opportunities or some shit. I don't feel like I really missed out on anything, but I kind of wished I said something, if only to point out the fact that we were seeking out the same book.
At the store, I rode the escalator upstairs and headed to the graphic novel section, where I searched in vain for the book. I figured they'd have a few copies of it because it's one of the most popular comics ever. As I scanned the shelves, a woman, who I recognized immediately, walked alongside a B&N employee towards me.
I remembered her face but not her name. She was someone I worked with during my brief stint as a waiter at Paparazzis, and damn, was she hot! She was one of the people at the restaurant I got along with and I was pretty sure she had a crush on me. I found that bewildering, because normally, especially then, I would rarely entertain the notion of an attractive, younger woman having any feelings for me other than platonic.
I didn't think, based on our personalities, we'd be a good match, but I wasn't adverse to having fun with her in an erotically-charged capacity. The rub was her rough and tumble boyfriend that, even though she was aching to dump him, was still an active presence in her life. Which meant if I ever became involved with her, my chances of suffering through an awful beating were greatly increased.
Eventually, I left the restaurant with nothing of consequence ever occurring between us. I didn't feel lousy about it, but I sure would have loved to have had some adventures with her. That was a few years ago, before I moved to Somerville.
Back to the present. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she stood near the B&N employee who was trying to locate a book for her. I thought she must be looking for a book for her boyfriend or brother---she never seemed like the graphic novel type. I hovered around the section for two reasons, the first being the most obvious: I wanted to get a good look at her---the looking was good, I tell you---and I wanted to continue looking for the book I came to get, but I didn't want to get too close to the situation.
Eventually, after debating whether I should go talk to her, I decided I'd go ask someone who worked there if they had The Watchmen in stock. As I waited my turn at the little circle of a help desk, Kristin (just remembered her name) approached, still trailing the woman who was helping. The woman asked the girl at the desk, right before I was able to make my own query, if she knew whether they had the The Watchmen in stock. The girl said she wasn't sure and made her way over to the graphic novel section.
I followed the group in order to have my unspoken question answered. As the girl poked around through the books, I wondered at the strange coincidence of Kristen and I both looking for the same book at the same time. I'm a believer of meaningful coincidence, though I haven't seen it in action very much, and I figured this was one, and I should probably go talk to Kristen.
I never did. I convinced myself that all that would happen would be a bit of small talk and me getting home later than I intended. So, why bother? But I liked her---she was sweet, had a subversive sense of humor, which took the edge off the shitty job, and was hot. I determined I'd go talk to her. What the hell? Of course, by the time I made my mind up, she had already left the store.
What's the moral of the story? I don't know, probably something about not passing up opportunities or some shit. I don't feel like I really missed out on anything, but I kind of wished I said something, if only to point out the fact that we were seeking out the same book.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
The best crooner is Rudy Vallee, but for voice control visit Bing Crosby
Last time I saw Foley's wife, Tamsen, we talked about The Golden Girls, her all time favorite show. I found out it was her favorite show when I saw her dvd collection of the show displayed in their living room a while back.I assumed the dvds belonged to Tamsen's grandmother, who lived there, but I was soon disabused of that assumption.
It was at their wedding, oddly enough, when I asked Tamsen who the dvds belonged to. Her face lit up and she proudly told me they were hers, as if they were her children. I guess, in a way, they were, but I'll save the exploration of that aspect of her involvement with the show for another time. Anyway, there she was, in her wedding gown, gushing about her love of The Golden Girls .
Fast forward to the last time I saw her, which was about a month ago, for those of you concerned with the timing of things. We were discussing the Golden Girls and Tamsen was lamenting the passing of Estelle Getty, who, ironically, was the youngest cast member (If you don't know why that's ironic, I suggest you do a little detective work and search for the answer online, because I've already wasted more than enough time veering away from my point, which is looking smaller and smaller the further I get from it, and I don't want to waste any more of it explaining something you should already know.)
I thought to myself, "Estelle Getty is alive and well. Tamsen is plain wrong." I told her as much and she vigorously shook her head with the conviction of someone who ate, drank, and shat all things Getty.
"No, no, no---she died, like last year."
I was pretty certain I was right, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. She was, after all, a big enough fan of The Golden Girls to own all of the seasons on dvd. Well, I feel vindicated, and a little betrayed, now that I know Estelle Getty passed away just the other day. I was completely unaffected when I read the news because I already thought she was dead. I wish I could convince myself the same about Dane Cook and Rachael Ray.
Rest in peace, Estelle. And fuck you, Tamsen, for misleading me.
--
It was at their wedding, oddly enough, when I asked Tamsen who the dvds belonged to. Her face lit up and she proudly told me they were hers, as if they were her children. I guess, in a way, they were, but I'll save the exploration of that aspect of her involvement with the show for another time. Anyway, there she was, in her wedding gown, gushing about her love of The Golden Girls .
Fast forward to the last time I saw her, which was about a month ago, for those of you concerned with the timing of things. We were discussing the Golden Girls and Tamsen was lamenting the passing of Estelle Getty, who, ironically, was the youngest cast member (If you don't know why that's ironic, I suggest you do a little detective work and search for the answer online, because I've already wasted more than enough time veering away from my point, which is looking smaller and smaller the further I get from it, and I don't want to waste any more of it explaining something you should already know.)
I thought to myself, "Estelle Getty is alive and well. Tamsen is plain wrong." I told her as much and she vigorously shook her head with the conviction of someone who ate, drank, and shat all things Getty.
"No, no, no---she died, like last year."
I was pretty certain I was right, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. She was, after all, a big enough fan of The Golden Girls to own all of the seasons on dvd. Well, I feel vindicated, and a little betrayed, now that I know Estelle Getty passed away just the other day. I was completely unaffected when I read the news because I already thought she was dead. I wish I could convince myself the same about Dane Cook and Rachael Ray.
Rest in peace, Estelle. And fuck you, Tamsen, for misleading me.
--
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
And if we make up just to break up, I'll carry on
Nothing of great import to relate, but I'll trudge on anyway. Maybe something interesting will make itself known as a result of my fingers tapping the keys. Maybe, but I wouldn't bet on it. So, in the interest of keeping sleep at bay for all concerned, I'll try not to be verbose and dull, which, unfortunately, I've been known to be. With that in mind, I'll henceforth engage in a lightning round of thoughts and be done with this business.
---I am loving Harry Nilsson's The Point. It's all hooks. Great, great songwriting. Probably my favorite album of his, at least among the ones I've heard so far. And what a great fable he created. If I ever have children, I will force them to watch and listen to The Point.I'm going to check out the dvd of the story put to animation. In that, Ringo Starr, rather than Harry, who does so on the album, narrates the story. Anyway, brilliant album and I can't get the songs out of my head. Especially this one:
-- I miss you, Janelle. Someone of your caliber needs to be seen on a more regular basis to be truly appreciated. When I think of you, I smile.
-- August looks to be pretty packed, socially speaking. Planning on visiting Bri and Mary up in Laconia, Michelle in Falmouth, my parents in Maine, and the Brittons for their summer bash.
--Just finished The Shadow of the Wind. Thought it was going to be more supernatural and esoteric, but it wasn't. What it was, though, was an engaging, tragic, romantic, and beautifully written book.
--Close to finishing Naomi Wolfe's The End of America, a thoroughly disturbing, yet inspiring call-to-arms.
--Continuing the topic of books, I read a couple of chapters from Lonesome Dove tonight that floored me. This book is so amazing, I only read a couple of chapters at a time in order to savor it. You can't wolf down a delicacy such as this.
--Watched Be Kind, Rewind, the latest Michel Gondry film, last night. As much as I love his other films, this one was a bit of a disappointment. Looked good on paper, at least.
--Had a dream about a hawk two nights in a row. Can't remember the details of either of them. Well, I do remember a hawk attacking people's heads in the first one, but that's all I recall. According to numerous dream interpretation web sites, there are equally numerous, and contradictory, meanings behind the appearance of hawks in dreams. I guess, like me, the hawk is a complex creature.
--There's a good chance that, before the week is out, I'll have seen The Dark Knight again. And maybe this time, because The Somerville Theater has a bar, I'll watch the movie with a cold one in my hand.
Off to watch The Sopranos. Good night, you Princes of Maine, you Kings of New England.
---I am loving Harry Nilsson's The Point. It's all hooks. Great, great songwriting. Probably my favorite album of his, at least among the ones I've heard so far. And what a great fable he created. If I ever have children, I will force them to watch and listen to The Point.I'm going to check out the dvd of the story put to animation. In that, Ringo Starr, rather than Harry, who does so on the album, narrates the story. Anyway, brilliant album and I can't get the songs out of my head. Especially this one:
-- I miss you, Janelle. Someone of your caliber needs to be seen on a more regular basis to be truly appreciated. When I think of you, I smile.
-- August looks to be pretty packed, socially speaking. Planning on visiting Bri and Mary up in Laconia, Michelle in Falmouth, my parents in Maine, and the Brittons for their summer bash.
--Just finished The Shadow of the Wind. Thought it was going to be more supernatural and esoteric, but it wasn't. What it was, though, was an engaging, tragic, romantic, and beautifully written book.
--Close to finishing Naomi Wolfe's The End of America, a thoroughly disturbing, yet inspiring call-to-arms.
--Continuing the topic of books, I read a couple of chapters from Lonesome Dove tonight that floored me. This book is so amazing, I only read a couple of chapters at a time in order to savor it. You can't wolf down a delicacy such as this.
--Watched Be Kind, Rewind, the latest Michel Gondry film, last night. As much as I love his other films, this one was a bit of a disappointment. Looked good on paper, at least.
--Had a dream about a hawk two nights in a row. Can't remember the details of either of them. Well, I do remember a hawk attacking people's heads in the first one, but that's all I recall. According to numerous dream interpretation web sites, there are equally numerous, and contradictory, meanings behind the appearance of hawks in dreams. I guess, like me, the hawk is a complex creature.
--There's a good chance that, before the week is out, I'll have seen The Dark Knight again. And maybe this time, because The Somerville Theater has a bar, I'll watch the movie with a cold one in my hand.
Off to watch The Sopranos. Good night, you Princes of Maine, you Kings of New England.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
She was soft and kind and good to him, so he took her as a wife
Not sure if I have food poisoning, but I've felt pretty awful all day today. Mara and I ordered in from Primo's, a pizza joint neither of us had ever tried, and the veggie wrap I got tasted peculiar. Whatever I've got, I hope it exits my system post haste.
Yesterday, Mara and I checked out the Art Beat festival in Davis Sq, which was cool despite the climate, which most definitely was not. We had planned on attending the festival (too hot to go to the zoo, alas) and seeing The Dark Knight. It worked out splendidly: The movie was playing at the Somerville Theater, which lies right in the heart of Davis Square.
Well, the movie was incredible. Christopher Nolan has done what no one else has done, which is render an authentic portrayal from top to bottom of Batman and his surroundings. Everything---the acting, script, cinematography---was top notch. I think I'll see it again.
Scored some Harry Nilsson albums this weekend. One, which was an import of his first three combined on one disc, arrived in the mail, and the other, The Point, I found at Newbury Comics. I was surprised as shit to find The Point, because for over a year now, almost everything he did pre-Nilsson Schmilsson was out of print in the states. I just ordered Pussycats, the album John Lennon produced. I've been spoiled lately, with the re-release of Dennis Wilson's solo albums and now the Harry Nilsson stuff.
Ok, I'm tired and need to debate whether I'll watch Be Kind, Rewind tonight. I have a feeling I may fall asleep during it, no matter how good it is. I better be well by tomorrow or someone is going to pay dearly.
Yesterday, Mara and I checked out the Art Beat festival in Davis Sq, which was cool despite the climate, which most definitely was not. We had planned on attending the festival (too hot to go to the zoo, alas) and seeing The Dark Knight. It worked out splendidly: The movie was playing at the Somerville Theater, which lies right in the heart of Davis Square.
Well, the movie was incredible. Christopher Nolan has done what no one else has done, which is render an authentic portrayal from top to bottom of Batman and his surroundings. Everything---the acting, script, cinematography---was top notch. I think I'll see it again.
Scored some Harry Nilsson albums this weekend. One, which was an import of his first three combined on one disc, arrived in the mail, and the other, The Point, I found at Newbury Comics. I was surprised as shit to find The Point, because for over a year now, almost everything he did pre-Nilsson Schmilsson was out of print in the states. I just ordered Pussycats, the album John Lennon produced. I've been spoiled lately, with the re-release of Dennis Wilson's solo albums and now the Harry Nilsson stuff.
Ok, I'm tired and need to debate whether I'll watch Be Kind, Rewind tonight. I have a feeling I may fall asleep during it, no matter how good it is. I better be well by tomorrow or someone is going to pay dearly.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza
They threw a little birthday party for me (belated) and Anne (the woman I'd ask out if I was single and whose birthday is today). We got Thai food and they made cards for us. Coming from the cold and hostile climate of my last job, I really appreciated the gesture. I'm so glad my ass was fired from Taylor. It was a learning experience, but one mired in shit and played out well before I left.
--
I want to go to the zoo this weekend. So far, Mara and Luke Warm are on board. The only thing that could disrupt the plan is the weather. It's supposed to be steaming hot this weekend and I'm not sure if walking around in that climate would make for a good time. And I'm also taking the resulting behavior of the zoo's residents into consideration. Would the heat make them sluggish and consequently boring? I'm not sure. I am sure of the fact that I want to see some animals moving about and doing what they do. You know, having fun while they're behind bars and being gawked at by a bunch of people with fanny packs and ice cream cones.
--
The hicks over at BigfootTracker.com have been claiming they have a dead Sasquatch in their possession. Apparently, some hunters shot one with a 30.06 and forked the body over to these guys. They say they will be releasing video and still images of the body in a month. Bold claim, and though it's probably just a money-making scheme, I'm curious to see how it pans out. If they don't produce a body, what will their excuse be? Someone stole it? It came back to life and ran away? They lost it? We'll see. I have mixed emotions about this. On the one hand, it would be incredible to render all the naysayers speechless with absolute proof of Bigfoot's existence. And, more importantly, science would have what it needs for study. But, like we do with everything we touch, I'm afraid we'd wipe out the population. One thing at a time, though. Let's see what these chumps produce.
--
I want to go to the zoo this weekend. So far, Mara and Luke Warm are on board. The only thing that could disrupt the plan is the weather. It's supposed to be steaming hot this weekend and I'm not sure if walking around in that climate would make for a good time. And I'm also taking the resulting behavior of the zoo's residents into consideration. Would the heat make them sluggish and consequently boring? I'm not sure. I am sure of the fact that I want to see some animals moving about and doing what they do. You know, having fun while they're behind bars and being gawked at by a bunch of people with fanny packs and ice cream cones.
--
The hicks over at BigfootTracker.com have been claiming they have a dead Sasquatch in their possession. Apparently, some hunters shot one with a 30.06 and forked the body over to these guys. They say they will be releasing video and still images of the body in a month. Bold claim, and though it's probably just a money-making scheme, I'm curious to see how it pans out. If they don't produce a body, what will their excuse be? Someone stole it? It came back to life and ran away? They lost it? We'll see. I have mixed emotions about this. On the one hand, it would be incredible to render all the naysayers speechless with absolute proof of Bigfoot's existence. And, more importantly, science would have what it needs for study. But, like we do with everything we touch, I'm afraid we'd wipe out the population. One thing at a time, though. Let's see what these chumps produce.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
How's your brush and your lady fair, not to mention your stained glass stare
When I arrived at work today, after signing in and turning on my computer, I felt the sense of unease that has not showed its face in a while. A half hour went by before I felt better. Ironically, the rest of my day went well. My mind was crisp and my spirits, while not technically high, were at least airborn. But that half hour or inner torment was no fun. No sir, it was not.
It's a wonder I don't feel more unease than I do. My personal affairs are such that I'm in a constant state of uncertainty. No sense of security for this man. Not yet. And the world at large......well, you don't need me to remind you of its current state and where it's headed. Ah, but it's the little things, which aren't so little when added up, that get me through life. That, and a sense of hope, however naive, that things will improve, that I'll reach a higher quality of life some day. So, yes, like everyone else, I have my shitty moments of despair and suffer hardships of varying degrees, but everything tends to balance out. The sweet and the sour.
Sometime this week, I'm going to watch Au Hasard Balthazar, Robert Bresson's film about a farm girl and her donkey who eventually become separated and share similar paths. It's a film I've been wanting to see for years but never got around to it. Hopefully, it will be a winner.
I Am Legend was much better than I thought it would be, which isn't to say it was amazing, just better than it seemed. Definitely worth the rental. Reminded me of Cormac McCarthy's The Road crossed with 28 Days.
I managed to get a hold of The Bonehunters, the book I attempted in vain to get at Barnes and Noble the other day. Porter Square Books ordered it for me. Only took a day to arrive. Nice! The book weighs about ten pounds. I've got my work cut out for me.
Ok, I'm done with you. I'll leave you with a clip of the baby preacher, who some will argue makes as much sense as the adult ones do.
It's a wonder I don't feel more unease than I do. My personal affairs are such that I'm in a constant state of uncertainty. No sense of security for this man. Not yet. And the world at large......well, you don't need me to remind you of its current state and where it's headed. Ah, but it's the little things, which aren't so little when added up, that get me through life. That, and a sense of hope, however naive, that things will improve, that I'll reach a higher quality of life some day. So, yes, like everyone else, I have my shitty moments of despair and suffer hardships of varying degrees, but everything tends to balance out. The sweet and the sour.
Sometime this week, I'm going to watch Au Hasard Balthazar, Robert Bresson's film about a farm girl and her donkey who eventually become separated and share similar paths. It's a film I've been wanting to see for years but never got around to it. Hopefully, it will be a winner.
I Am Legend was much better than I thought it would be, which isn't to say it was amazing, just better than it seemed. Definitely worth the rental. Reminded me of Cormac McCarthy's The Road crossed with 28 Days.
I managed to get a hold of The Bonehunters, the book I attempted in vain to get at Barnes and Noble the other day. Porter Square Books ordered it for me. Only took a day to arrive. Nice! The book weighs about ten pounds. I've got my work cut out for me.
Ok, I'm done with you. I'll leave you with a clip of the baby preacher, who some will argue makes as much sense as the adult ones do.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
When I was a boy, my big brother held on to my hand and he made me slap my own face
Watched about five episodes from the first season of Arrested Development with Mara and her roommate, Matt, last night. I'd only seen about one or two episodes of the show before, but after hearing so many raving reviews about it, and from people with good comedic taste, I was eager to dive into the show. My analysis? Funny and worth watching, but not quite equal to the hype surrounding it. At times it seemed as if it was a little too self-aware over how clever it was being. But that's just an impression, born from my unfamiliarity with the show. Perhaps over time I'll come to love it dearly, but for now I'm a handful of laughs shy of being enamored with it.
I picked up The Shadow of the Wind yesterday, and about eighty pages into it, I'm impressed. This book has received a ton of acclaim and at least so far it looks like it's been deserving. I attempted to get Erikson's The Bonehunters, but that proved to be a wasted effort that spanned the whole weekend.
Even though Barnes and Noble didn't have the book on the shelves when I was there yesterday, I checked the store stock online this morning and it showed that they a few copies in stock. Wanting to be sure, so that I didn't have to waste a trip to Burlington, I got the store's number online and called over. Meadow, the girl I spoke with, confirmed that they had the book in stock. I asked her to double check because I didn't see it when I was there yesterday. She put me on hold and, after a couple of minutes, got back on the phone and confirmed that they had it. She told me it would be waiting for me behind the counter.
At the store a while later, I approached one of the cashiers, a guy in his forties with a ponytail, and asked him to retrieve the book for me. He scanned the counter behind him and didn't see it. He shrugged and said, " Guess we don't have it". Now, I'm not a high maintenance customer, but considering I had just been told not twenty minutes earlier that the book would be waiting for me behind the counter, I didn't think it was too much to ask the cashier to dig a little deeper.
He got on the phone and spoke with someone in the fiction department. They didn't have it, either. I explained to him I felt the matter could be resolved quickly if he asked Meadow, the girl I had spoken with on the phone, where she put the book. He gave me a blank look. "Do you know this girl, Meadow?", I asked him. He looked at me incredulously, as if I was asking to track down my adoptive parents. "Can't say I've heard of her, but it is a big store, so....".
My patience was hanging by a thread and I thought carefully about how to pose my next question. I wanted results and, despite my tendency to assume most people possess at least as much intelligence as I do, I dumbed down my approach for this guy's benefit. "Could you find out where she is?", I asked slowly.
The fucker had the audacity to shrug in response! Again! I didn't know what to say and gave him my own incredulous look. Sensing my displeasure with him, he said, "I guess you could ask that guy down at the other register. He might know." I wondered if I underestimated the amount of people working at a Barnes and Noble. It seemed as if they numbered well into the hundreds.
Wanting to expedite the matter, I pulled out my phone and showed the cashier the number I had dialed. "Is this the number to your store?". There was a pause and I thought, Confirm or deny, I don't care---just don't say I don't know.
"I don't know." Fucking prick! I thanked him curtly, and left the store. Piecing this fiasco together, I quickly realized my folly. I called the number from earlier and asked the girl who answered what location she was at.
"Burlington", she replied.
"What state?".
"Vermont".
So, as dumb as that ponytailed dufus was, I displayed my own idiocy quite well. All I had to have done was pay a tad more attention when I was retrieving the phone number, and I would have saved myself some aggravation. And why a mental alarm didn't go off when I started dialing a number with an unfamiliar area code, I'll never know. Anyhow, my day wasn't ruined, but what the fuck?
I picked up The Shadow of the Wind yesterday, and about eighty pages into it, I'm impressed. This book has received a ton of acclaim and at least so far it looks like it's been deserving. I attempted to get Erikson's The Bonehunters, but that proved to be a wasted effort that spanned the whole weekend.
Even though Barnes and Noble didn't have the book on the shelves when I was there yesterday, I checked the store stock online this morning and it showed that they a few copies in stock. Wanting to be sure, so that I didn't have to waste a trip to Burlington, I got the store's number online and called over. Meadow, the girl I spoke with, confirmed that they had the book in stock. I asked her to double check because I didn't see it when I was there yesterday. She put me on hold and, after a couple of minutes, got back on the phone and confirmed that they had it. She told me it would be waiting for me behind the counter.
At the store a while later, I approached one of the cashiers, a guy in his forties with a ponytail, and asked him to retrieve the book for me. He scanned the counter behind him and didn't see it. He shrugged and said, " Guess we don't have it". Now, I'm not a high maintenance customer, but considering I had just been told not twenty minutes earlier that the book would be waiting for me behind the counter, I didn't think it was too much to ask the cashier to dig a little deeper.
He got on the phone and spoke with someone in the fiction department. They didn't have it, either. I explained to him I felt the matter could be resolved quickly if he asked Meadow, the girl I had spoken with on the phone, where she put the book. He gave me a blank look. "Do you know this girl, Meadow?", I asked him. He looked at me incredulously, as if I was asking to track down my adoptive parents. "Can't say I've heard of her, but it is a big store, so....".
My patience was hanging by a thread and I thought carefully about how to pose my next question. I wanted results and, despite my tendency to assume most people possess at least as much intelligence as I do, I dumbed down my approach for this guy's benefit. "Could you find out where she is?", I asked slowly.
The fucker had the audacity to shrug in response! Again! I didn't know what to say and gave him my own incredulous look. Sensing my displeasure with him, he said, "I guess you could ask that guy down at the other register. He might know." I wondered if I underestimated the amount of people working at a Barnes and Noble. It seemed as if they numbered well into the hundreds.
Wanting to expedite the matter, I pulled out my phone and showed the cashier the number I had dialed. "Is this the number to your store?". There was a pause and I thought, Confirm or deny, I don't care---just don't say I don't know.
"I don't know." Fucking prick! I thanked him curtly, and left the store. Piecing this fiasco together, I quickly realized my folly. I called the number from earlier and asked the girl who answered what location she was at.
"Burlington", she replied.
"What state?".
"Vermont".
So, as dumb as that ponytailed dufus was, I displayed my own idiocy quite well. All I had to have done was pay a tad more attention when I was retrieving the phone number, and I would have saved myself some aggravation. And why a mental alarm didn't go off when I started dialing a number with an unfamiliar area code, I'll never know. Anyhow, my day wasn't ruined, but what the fuck?
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Betty came by on her way, said she had a word to say about things today and fallen leaves
Once again, Neflix, the service I'd been hard pressed to criticize, has disappointed me. The last few movies I've rented, have been unwatchable in certain sections, even after giving the discs a thorough cleaning. Having the image pixilate and then freeze on me at the end of Wild Strawberries didn't exactly fill me with glee. I pieced it all together---not too difficult, since it was an existential drama, and not Shamalayan-esque thriller I was watching---but, no one wants a film they're enjoying to end like that. O' Netflix, t'was once you held my trust in your steady grip, but now....
I'll give 'flix a chance to redeem itself when I watch I Am Legend tonight. Of course, I may opt not to watch it tonight and reserve it for the weekend. We'll see.
If I was single, I would ask my coworker Anne out. I am not, however, single, so, at least in the short term, it's not going to happen. She's pretty, funny, exceptionally kind, and has an endearing awkwardness about her. Wow, no wonder I like her: she's exactly like me!
My friend Brian proposed the idea of creating a cd of a bunch of our friend's songs. I think it's a great idea and about time. I said I'd do it provided the cover has a picture of me in the bathtub gazing sexily at a picture of me. Maybe black & white; that'd be classy I think.
I'll give 'flix a chance to redeem itself when I watch I Am Legend tonight. Of course, I may opt not to watch it tonight and reserve it for the weekend. We'll see.
If I was single, I would ask my coworker Anne out. I am not, however, single, so, at least in the short term, it's not going to happen. She's pretty, funny, exceptionally kind, and has an endearing awkwardness about her. Wow, no wonder I like her: she's exactly like me!
My friend Brian proposed the idea of creating a cd of a bunch of our friend's songs. I think it's a great idea and about time. I said I'd do it provided the cover has a picture of me in the bathtub gazing sexily at a picture of me. Maybe black & white; that'd be classy I think.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
For the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru
I almost fell asleep at my desk several times today while at work. I was so tired when I left, all I could think about was coming home and taking a nap. That didn't work out because Spira called me and asked if I'd drop her off at the T in Davis Sq. She was headed to the airport, going to Greece for three weeks to see her family, and I completely forgot she was leaving today. So, I came home from work, had a quick bite, and headed over to Spira's.
When I got home from dropping her off, I went for a run, which was a bit of a struggle because of the heat and my being tired. When I got home, I hurriedly took my sweat-soaked clothes off hopped in the shower. The cold water felt sublime.
For dinner, I pan-seared some scallops in a nice lemon-based marinade. I added some to a tasty salad I had made with avocado, tomatoes, spinach, and red onions. Oh shit, I forgot the Kalamata olives! Oh well, it was still de-lish.
I'm excited to pick up The Shadow of the Wind, by
When I got home from dropping her off, I went for a run, which was a bit of a struggle because of the heat and my being tired. When I got home, I hurriedly took my sweat-soaked clothes off hopped in the shower. The cold water felt sublime.
For dinner, I pan-seared some scallops in a nice lemon-based marinade. I added some to a tasty salad I had made with avocado, tomatoes, spinach, and red onions. Oh shit, I forgot the Kalamata olives! Oh well, it was still de-lish.
I'm excited to pick up The Shadow of the Wind, by
Sunday, July 6, 2008
A heavy drone, a heavy sway, girl I love it when you talk that way
Interesting weekend. The fourth was spent with Mara at two cookouts. The first, was at her friend Alistair's house in Medford, about a mile from my apartment. We only stayed a couple of hours and the experience can be summed up thusly:
1. Mara and I were the only couple there without a baby. That in itself wasn't so bad---I wasn't feeling like I was missing out or anything---but pretty much every single conversation was centered around....wait for it!--- that's right, babies. I didn't care a wit about any of it and contented myself to eating from the great spread that adorned the dining room table. Fuckin' babies.
2. There were two instances of comedy that occurred. The first began as a loud buzzing sound coming from one of the neighbor's houses. It sounded like someone was using a weed whacker. After hearing it for a while, I decided it was someone's bug zapper. An older gentleman, one who figures prominently in the second bit of comedy, revealed to everyone that Alistair's neighbor, wearing a pair of noise canceling headphones, was cutting someone's hair with a pair of electric trimmers. We thought he was joking at first, but when I looked over the fence I saw that he was correct. It doesn't sound very funny as I recount it, but I guess I found it to be particularly amusing because of the headphones and the excessive volume. Anyway.....
The second bit of comedy occurred at the dining room table, where Mara and I were sitting eating some burgers. The older guy I just told you about came over and started preparing a burger for himself and when he went to add some mustard, the top came off and a heap of it covered his bun. Mara and I both laughed at his plight and assisted in the clean up. Once the excess mustard was cleared, he added some ketchup to the burger. And, damnit, didn't he, add the same amount of ketchup purposefully as he did accidentally with the mustard. If only the ketchup bottle had the loose top, he wouldn't have had to clean up shit. Anyhow, it was funny to watch, even if it doesn't translate here very well.
That was about it for that cookout. Grade: C-.
When we got to Nashua for Mike's cookout, we hit a shitload of traffic by Holman stadium. Fireworks. Damnit! Bad timing. When we finally got to Mike's, I discovered that Tracy and Ray, two friends I was looking forward to seeing, had just left. And, as I was greeting Janelle, she was saying goodbye, though she was planning on coming back at some point.
It was kind of strange, this cookout. There were a good amount of people I didn't know, and the ones I did know, were scattered about. That made it tough to socialize. Things took on a surreal quality later on in the evening when the yard, as a result of people lighting fireworks, took on a hazy, smoky, Apocalypse Now look.
There were periods when it was just me and Mara sitting there watching the wraiths of friends and strangers come and go. We decided to leave earlier than I thought we would. As much as I had yearned to be around friends that night, it just wasn't happening. Still, though, I was glad for the time I did have with people like Mike, Mark and Becky, Amy, Luke Warm, and Kreg.
--
Yesterday was my birthday. I went to my parent's in the morning. My dad arrived a few minutes after I did (he had stayed the night at my grandmother's house, which is part of a big ordeal I'll cover in a future post) and after a few minutes of socializing, he told my mother and me that he wasn't going to go out to lunch with us. My mother tried to get him to come, but he wouldn't budge. He looked tired and frayed. I told my mother I'd be happy to go out with only her and that's what we did. We went to Bertucci's and had a nice lunch. When we got back to the house, we discovered that my dad had gone to bed. My mom sang happy birthday to me and I blew out the candles on the cake she presented to me. I could tell she felt bad about everything.
Mara and I went to the Decordova museum in the afternoon---great time---and came back to my house afterwards. We had been snacking all day on the delicious banana bread she had mad me. When we got back to the house, she made us a delicious meal of pan-seared scallops over fresh pasta with a side of asparagus. Amazing!
After dinner, we watched In Bruges, a great movie that everyone should see. It starred Brendan Gleason (one of my favorite actors) and Colin Farrell, in one of his best performances. The film was about two hit men (Gleason and Farrell) on the lamb in Bruges, Belgium. Every step of the way, the film avoided Hollywood cliches. What a moving, funny, intelligent, well-acted piece of work. A rare find. See this film.
Mara had brought over a dvd of Gilligan's Island that she had got from Netflix, and we watched a few episodes in bed. Hadn't seen the show in a while and when Ginger made her first appearance, I explained to Mara how she was my first sexual crush. And, judging by the change in my body temperature every time I saw her, she still does it for me. Damn, if I was stranded on that island with her, I wouldn't even entertain the idea of trying to get rescued.
Earlier in the week, Mara was concerned she wouldn't have much alone time with me on my birthday. I had told her that there was a pretty good chance one or two of my friends might want to take me out to dinner or something to celebrate. And if that was the case, I wanted to make myself available. Well, she didn't have to worry because no one called me. Fuck it---I enjoyed myself anyway.
Today, I bought myself a few cd's as a birthday present to myself. When I saw that the holy grail of out of print records, Dennis Wilson's Pacific Ocean Blue, had finally been released on cd, I almost fainted. Well, that's not true, but I was pretty excited, especially when I saw that his second, unreleased album, Bamboo, was part of the package. I also picked up Soundheim's Sweeney Todd and Iron and Wine's Our Endless Numbered Days, a disc I once owned but had been stolen from my car.
Tonight I'm going to relax, or at least try to. I'm really digging the Wilson album and, if I have time, I may watch Bergman's Wild Strawberries. Ciao, bitches.
1. Mara and I were the only couple there without a baby. That in itself wasn't so bad---I wasn't feeling like I was missing out or anything---but pretty much every single conversation was centered around....wait for it!--- that's right, babies. I didn't care a wit about any of it and contented myself to eating from the great spread that adorned the dining room table. Fuckin' babies.
2. There were two instances of comedy that occurred. The first began as a loud buzzing sound coming from one of the neighbor's houses. It sounded like someone was using a weed whacker. After hearing it for a while, I decided it was someone's bug zapper. An older gentleman, one who figures prominently in the second bit of comedy, revealed to everyone that Alistair's neighbor, wearing a pair of noise canceling headphones, was cutting someone's hair with a pair of electric trimmers. We thought he was joking at first, but when I looked over the fence I saw that he was correct. It doesn't sound very funny as I recount it, but I guess I found it to be particularly amusing because of the headphones and the excessive volume. Anyway.....
The second bit of comedy occurred at the dining room table, where Mara and I were sitting eating some burgers. The older guy I just told you about came over and started preparing a burger for himself and when he went to add some mustard, the top came off and a heap of it covered his bun. Mara and I both laughed at his plight and assisted in the clean up. Once the excess mustard was cleared, he added some ketchup to the burger. And, damnit, didn't he, add the same amount of ketchup purposefully as he did accidentally with the mustard. If only the ketchup bottle had the loose top, he wouldn't have had to clean up shit. Anyhow, it was funny to watch, even if it doesn't translate here very well.
That was about it for that cookout. Grade: C-.
When we got to Nashua for Mike's cookout, we hit a shitload of traffic by Holman stadium. Fireworks. Damnit! Bad timing. When we finally got to Mike's, I discovered that Tracy and Ray, two friends I was looking forward to seeing, had just left. And, as I was greeting Janelle, she was saying goodbye, though she was planning on coming back at some point.
It was kind of strange, this cookout. There were a good amount of people I didn't know, and the ones I did know, were scattered about. That made it tough to socialize. Things took on a surreal quality later on in the evening when the yard, as a result of people lighting fireworks, took on a hazy, smoky, Apocalypse Now look.
There were periods when it was just me and Mara sitting there watching the wraiths of friends and strangers come and go. We decided to leave earlier than I thought we would. As much as I had yearned to be around friends that night, it just wasn't happening. Still, though, I was glad for the time I did have with people like Mike, Mark and Becky, Amy, Luke Warm, and Kreg.
--
Yesterday was my birthday. I went to my parent's in the morning. My dad arrived a few minutes after I did (he had stayed the night at my grandmother's house, which is part of a big ordeal I'll cover in a future post) and after a few minutes of socializing, he told my mother and me that he wasn't going to go out to lunch with us. My mother tried to get him to come, but he wouldn't budge. He looked tired and frayed. I told my mother I'd be happy to go out with only her and that's what we did. We went to Bertucci's and had a nice lunch. When we got back to the house, we discovered that my dad had gone to bed. My mom sang happy birthday to me and I blew out the candles on the cake she presented to me. I could tell she felt bad about everything.
Mara and I went to the Decordova museum in the afternoon---great time---and came back to my house afterwards. We had been snacking all day on the delicious banana bread she had mad me. When we got back to the house, she made us a delicious meal of pan-seared scallops over fresh pasta with a side of asparagus. Amazing!
After dinner, we watched In Bruges, a great movie that everyone should see. It starred Brendan Gleason (one of my favorite actors) and Colin Farrell, in one of his best performances. The film was about two hit men (Gleason and Farrell) on the lamb in Bruges, Belgium. Every step of the way, the film avoided Hollywood cliches. What a moving, funny, intelligent, well-acted piece of work. A rare find. See this film.
Mara had brought over a dvd of Gilligan's Island that she had got from Netflix, and we watched a few episodes in bed. Hadn't seen the show in a while and when Ginger made her first appearance, I explained to Mara how she was my first sexual crush. And, judging by the change in my body temperature every time I saw her, she still does it for me. Damn, if I was stranded on that island with her, I wouldn't even entertain the idea of trying to get rescued.
Earlier in the week, Mara was concerned she wouldn't have much alone time with me on my birthday. I had told her that there was a pretty good chance one or two of my friends might want to take me out to dinner or something to celebrate. And if that was the case, I wanted to make myself available. Well, she didn't have to worry because no one called me. Fuck it---I enjoyed myself anyway.
Today, I bought myself a few cd's as a birthday present to myself. When I saw that the holy grail of out of print records, Dennis Wilson's Pacific Ocean Blue, had finally been released on cd, I almost fainted. Well, that's not true, but I was pretty excited, especially when I saw that his second, unreleased album, Bamboo, was part of the package. I also picked up Soundheim's Sweeney Todd and Iron and Wine's Our Endless Numbered Days, a disc I once owned but had been stolen from my car.
Tonight I'm going to relax, or at least try to. I'm really digging the Wilson album and, if I have time, I may watch Bergman's Wild Strawberries. Ciao, bitches.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
