Tonight I'm going to party like it's 1999

A busy week followed by a relaxing weekend. The show on Friday went well. The whole day was rather eventful. At work, Therese revealed to me she had given her notice. She'd found another job and while leaving would be bittersweet, she didn't want to pass on the opportunity. I'll miss her; she's a very sweet woman. I might even miss her epic, tangential, monologues. I say I might, but probably not.

Later, in the afternoon, I made a trip to the registry in Lawrence amidst the violent wind gusts. It was so bad it got me thinking about global warming and the various apocalyptic scenarios that are projected to arrive in the not too distant future. When I made it back to work, we lost power. No surprise - the wind, as I say, was violent. We left around three; the power, we learned, was not going to be back any time soon.

I drove up to Manchester with a bunch of free time before the show. I drove downtown and found the place where I'd be playing. I called Rachael to see if she and Mike were around. They were, so I drove the few blocks to their house and we hung out for a while. Rachael and I watched an far-fetched, but entirely entertaining documentary about the death of Paul McCartney. I'm sure you're aware, given all the clues peppered throughout Beatles records, that Paul died in a car crash and was replaced with a doppelganger. Well, this documentary confirms it. It seems, back when George Harrison was stabbed in a home invasion, he realized he should come clean about the truth of what happened with Paul. He spilled the beans onto a cassette and mailed it to a couple of documentary producers in California. They, in turn, took his narration of events made a documentary around it. Stunning stuff. George's voice sounds a bit... different, but I'm sure that was only because he was distressed when he recorded it. I recommend you watch this stunning piece of film. The world needs to know the truth!

After watching the doc, we went out for some Mexican food and then headed over to the club, which, in fact, was a massage parlor/salon. Never played a place like that. There was a good turnout. People brought chairs and blankets. The whole affair had a relaxed, intimate feel, which was nice, especially after the hassle of trying to find parking. I was more or less pleased with my set. Some mistakes, but, on the whole, I think I delivered.

Kate, Mike, Janelle, Michelle, Kristen, and I went out for drinks later on. Around midnight, we parted ways. I gave Kate a ride home and headed back to Somerville. I should have peed before I left. That was my only regret of the night. When I got on the highway, I really had to go. I contemplated my options. I could go find a gas station and use their bathroom, I could pull over and pee in the woods, or I could pee in a bottle. I chose the last option, but that proved to be too difficult. I just wanted to make it home, so I held it in and, when I got home, I could barely walk into the house. I peed for about three minutes straight.

Yesterday, I went to Trader Joe's for some groceries. At checkout, as I was about to pay, my cashier, a tiny woman, looked at me and said, "Next time, could you help me bag?" She lifted her hands, each of which was adorned with a black brace, and said "My hands are all messed up." She gave me this look that suggested I should figured this out on my own.

I was not expecting that. I said, "Uh, I'm sorry. I, uh...didn't notice." I had been lost in thought, my mind still a little hazy from sleep. I said what I said, but in hindsight, I wish I would have reacted differently. For example, I could have said something like:

"Well, now that I know your hands are all messed up and that you can't bag groceries, I will gladly offer assistance the next time around."

or

"That's not fair. While I saw that you were wearing braces on your hands, I could only assume that you were able to do your job without assistance. I've only ever seen you wearing them, and it didn't seem your ability to do your job was hindered in any way. For you to chastise me for not gleaning the extent of your condition and not offering assistance, is not fair. "

or

"If you can't do your job, which is to scan and bag groceries, then maybe you shouldn't be working here."

The last is more callous, I suppose, but really, I don't think it's good customer service to try and make a customer feel like shit for not helping out. Spira told me she would have told the woman, "Sure, I'll help you next time, if you give me some of your salary."

The funny thing is, I only had a two bag's worth of groceries and almost everything weighed less than a pound. We're talking lettuce, coffee, chips, etc. I was pissed afterward. I wished I had responded accordingly instead of apologizing. It's not that I wouldn't have helped her, but I fucking hate it when people act like that. I felt like saying to her, "Sorry, I would have helped you, but I have three broken ribs and can't lift anything without a tremendous amount of pain. The fact that you didn't notice that, saddens me deeply. You saw me carrying around this basket and you didn't offer me any help at all."

Ah, I let it all go, but I stewed over it for a while. I will avoid her like the plague next time, although a part of me would love to give her a piece of my mind.

Watched The Social Network. Good movie. When I first heard about it, it seemed like it would be a shitty movie. Then I heard how incredibly amazing it was. Then all the Oscar buzz. So, when I finally got around to watching it, I was expecting something incredible. It wasn't, but it was good. Not a movie I'm dying to see again, but good.

One movie I thought was incredible was Guy Maddin's The Saddest Music In The World. His films are like no other. I can't even express how they make me feel, which is a good thing.

Ok, I've got things to do. There is more, but I'll leave it for another time or let it fade into the ether.