We have our heat back, but it's still a no go as far as far as the hot water is concerned. That meant a cold shower for me after my run tonight. It wasn't terrible, but it felt like my head was in a vice grip when I rinsed the shampoo from my hair. Which, in case you're wondering, is not a pleasant feeling.
I'm expecting two books in the mail, both of the Fortean variety. The first is called Cryptoterrestials, by Mac Tonnies. Its thesis can be summed up from this passage in the book:
"Aliens," whether perceived as gnomes or fairies or demons or even humans (as in the case of the mysterious airship sightings of the late 19th century), may be forced to appear as they do by the cultural biases and limited expectations of the witness. Thus we have a pageant of fantastic beings of all descriptions: robot-like monsters, winged entities such as the infamous "Mothman," furry giants, all manner of "little men," and of course the ubiquitous "Grays." However, most if not all of the above may share a common psychical origin; only by appealing to our collective unconscious can they take form at all. As such, they constitute an ongoing waking dream; they are "true hallucinations" -- quantum composites that, while objectively real (as revealed by physical effects on the environment), demand a level of unconscious participation on behalf of their wide-eyed spectators.
I love it. Let me at it! The next book is called Impossible Visits, by Chris Noel, and concerns itself with people's interactions with Sasquatch at habituation sites. I've debated for a while whether to give this one a shot because I'm not interested in obvious tall tales. I've done a lot of research on the author and have come to the conclusion that he's a serious researcher and author in his own right. What sold me was watching some of his mini documentaries. He's come up with some compelling bits of evidence in support of the existence of Sasquatch. I'll let you know how the book turns out. I know it will be well written: I was listening to an interview he gave on a radio program about writing and he read a passage from the book. I was impressed.
Off to Mara's place to watch Lost. I never got around to The Big Lebowski last night and don't expect to tonight. I've got Cache to watch, too. Maybe tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
He was last seen with his friend, a drummer who resembles George Harrison of The Beatles, but he wears his hair tied in a small bow in the back
The recent torrent of rain has made a wading pool of our basement. I'd estimate about ten inches of water. Since I've lived here the basement has never flooded. Fortunately, a lot of our stuff is up on pallets and in plastic containers. There have been casualties, however. Janelle's been hanging some of her art work to dry on a couple of clotheslines she rigged in the dining room. We won't know the full extent of the damage until the water subsides. I fear I may have lost some books. I hope my volumes of Gossip Girl emerge unsullied.
Another, and more immediate, casualty of the flood was our furnace. No heat, no hot water. Just got word, though, that the fire dept. will be by tonight to resuscitate the poor chap. We're number fifty on the list. They may not be here for a while.
Rich actually spoke to me tonight. And in an amiable manner, no less. So there's progress for you. When we have a house meeting, we'll hopefully hash out some of this nonsense and at the very least realize there's no need for hostility between us, no matter who things pan out with our living situation.
Harakiri represented, son! Wow, I keep waiting for Kobayashi to disappoint me, but every film I see of his absolutely enchants me. And Tatsuya Nakadai was an incredible actor in his day. He's right up there with Toshiro Mifune. They were the Pacino and DeNiro of Japanese cinema. I'll offer a modest assessment and say Harakiri is a perfect film. Zero complaints. Five out of five stars.
I'm going to try and put a dent in The Big Lebowski tonight. Whenever I tell anyone I've never seen it, I usually get a shocked response. "How could you never have seen it? It's the Big Lebowski, for crissakes!!" I've seen bits of it before, but I never had the ambition to give it a go. Well, it's time to buck up and see what all the hype is about. Hey, it's the Coen Brothers: how bad can it be?
At work today, Therese was wondering out loud if her tennis match would be canceled because of the rain. "We play under a big plastic dome, but I'm sure it's leaking water all over the court."
"That would be no good", I said.
"No, it wouldn't. You shouldn't play in those conditions."
"Nope"
"You shouldn't play tennis if your balls are soaked."
It was then that I performed the heroic deed of not bursting out in laughter. Maybe I've got the mentality of a sixth grader, but it took every ounce of will power to restrain myself. What a hero I am! I'm very impressed with how I kept my composure. In almost any other situation, I would have laughed very loudly and with a great amount of mirth, but, in an effort to be respectful to Therese, and because I didn't want her to know my sense of humor sometimes rides the rails of simplicity, I kept a straight face. What a hero I am!I truly am the King of Kings! (Speaking of that, at another job I used to command my coworker Doug to refer to me as the King of Kings. He decided to disrespect me and call my sexuality into question by instead referring to me as The King of Queens. One of these days he'll realize the error of his ways.)
Ok, I'm out outta here.
Another, and more immediate, casualty of the flood was our furnace. No heat, no hot water. Just got word, though, that the fire dept. will be by tonight to resuscitate the poor chap. We're number fifty on the list. They may not be here for a while.
Rich actually spoke to me tonight. And in an amiable manner, no less. So there's progress for you. When we have a house meeting, we'll hopefully hash out some of this nonsense and at the very least realize there's no need for hostility between us, no matter who things pan out with our living situation.
Harakiri represented, son! Wow, I keep waiting for Kobayashi to disappoint me, but every film I see of his absolutely enchants me. And Tatsuya Nakadai was an incredible actor in his day. He's right up there with Toshiro Mifune. They were the Pacino and DeNiro of Japanese cinema. I'll offer a modest assessment and say Harakiri is a perfect film. Zero complaints. Five out of five stars.
I'm going to try and put a dent in The Big Lebowski tonight. Whenever I tell anyone I've never seen it, I usually get a shocked response. "How could you never have seen it? It's the Big Lebowski, for crissakes!!" I've seen bits of it before, but I never had the ambition to give it a go. Well, it's time to buck up and see what all the hype is about. Hey, it's the Coen Brothers: how bad can it be?
At work today, Therese was wondering out loud if her tennis match would be canceled because of the rain. "We play under a big plastic dome, but I'm sure it's leaking water all over the court."
"That would be no good", I said.
"No, it wouldn't. You shouldn't play in those conditions."
"Nope"
"You shouldn't play tennis if your balls are soaked."
It was then that I performed the heroic deed of not bursting out in laughter. Maybe I've got the mentality of a sixth grader, but it took every ounce of will power to restrain myself. What a hero I am! I'm very impressed with how I kept my composure. In almost any other situation, I would have laughed very loudly and with a great amount of mirth, but, in an effort to be respectful to Therese, and because I didn't want her to know my sense of humor sometimes rides the rails of simplicity, I kept a straight face. What a hero I am!I truly am the King of Kings! (Speaking of that, at another job I used to command my coworker Doug to refer to me as the King of Kings. He decided to disrespect me and call my sexuality into question by instead referring to me as The King of Queens. One of these days he'll realize the error of his ways.)
Ok, I'm out outta here.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Our mother the mountain
So here is the elaboration of my last post. Unburden thyself, the wind whispered. I shall obey. So without further preamble, let's get this post rolling.
Over a week ago, in response to my guitar playing and singing, Rich pounded on the wall in his room with such ferocity the entire house shook. If you've been reading this blog for a while you'll know this wasn't the first time he's done this. I stopped playing for a second and then started up playing again, only this time with mounting anger.
Since I've lived with Rich, which has been a few years now, I've had to speak to him several times about his outbursts, which have always been directed at me specifically, whether I was the true source of his anger or not. Each time, I made it a point to confront him, to try to come to some kind of resolution, because if I didn't he would never say a word and let things fester. Rich is not the confrontational type. When he loses his temper, it's not directly. One time I caught him cursing me out for -- God forbid! - turning the heat up (Anything over 65 degrees would incur his wrath). He was startled as I made my way down the stairs - he hadn't expected an audience. I asked him if he'd like to repeat what he said to my face. His response was to flee to his room. The next day I knocked on his door and tried to hash things out. I asked him, as politely as I could, to speak to me directly when he has a grievance with me. I told him it wasn't my intention to anger him, that all I wanted was for him to let me know, in a civil manner, when I did so that I could make the proper adjustments. He said it hadn't been me he was upset with, only the fact that the heat seemed to be constantly on. I didn't believe him, but because he agreed to my request, I kept silent.
I've known for a while now that Rich just flat out doesn't like me. If pressed, I'm not sure he could articulate the precise reason why. Well, maybe he could, and has, but to other people, not me. I've tried with him. I really have. And I've never made an inch of headway with him. Nope, just the continual, barely restrained hostility. Even when it became absolutely clear he just didn't like me, and probably never would no matter what I said I or did, I still wanted to be able to share the same house with him in a comfortable manner. And, to be candid, it didn't sit well with my ego knowing I was disliked.
Before the latest wall pounding incident, it came to my attention that he thought I was messing with his head. He keeps a bottle of hand soap in the shower and, apparently, someone was turning the dispenser so that it faced the wall. And guess who he thought that someone was?
I was dumbstruck, despite the fact that I knew he blamed me for pretty much everything that bothered him in the house. First of all, just the fact that he keeps tabs on how his soap is positioned is a little odd to me. You could move my stuff around every day of the week and I wouldn't notice. And then to accuse me of moving the bottle around, as if I was perpetrating some elaborate, yet subtle, mind game! For him to reach that conclusion, he had to believe that I was out to get him and that this was one way to do it. Besides the voices in his head, which have to be downright disturbing, I suspect his theories have been getting support from other sources. I'm willing to bet anything that there's a whole host of other similar things he's blamed me for. "Hey, my can of Pepsi has been moved a fraction of an inch! Must be that scoundrel Kevin! Who else could it be?"
Knowing that Rich had reached the level of paranoia with me was disturbing but it made sense. It fit his profile. He's a guy who lacks communication skills, particularly as concerns confrontation. Rather than say to me, "Perhaps this sounds a little weird, but have you been playing around with my soap?", he opted to tell Janelle and Craig about my diabolical scheming. I don't know how long that particular issue had been stewing around in his head, but I bet it had been for a while.
I decided, after the wall pounding incident, that I was no longer willing to tolerate that type of behavior. I'd reached my breaking point. Probably should have happened sooner, but I wanted to make our living situation work. A friend told me he would have punched Rich in the face after the first incident. While I don't think the violent route would have worked for me, it probably would have settled things, for better or worse. Probably worse. I'm glad I kept my cool - someone had to - but I'd be lying if I said I didn't harbor fantasies of breaking his jaw for him.
I chose not to confront him directly this time. That method had failed to get the desired results. No, he was getting a note, and in it I was going to voice my displeasure with his behavior and let him know that it would not be tolerated anymore. If he couldn't keep his temper in check and learn to communicate like an adult, we were going to have to make some changes. Despite being fed up with his nonsense, I wanted to be as diplomatic as possible. To that end, I decided to wait a day for my anger to subside before I wrote the note. I wanted to be level headed.
He didn't make it easy on me. I came one night to find the cable bill stabbed on the cork board above our sink with angry red circles drawn around the due date of the bill. It was clearly directed at me. I won't get into the hypocrisy of the action and why, especially in this instance, it was uncalled for, but trust me on this: he was taking another jab at me.
Now I was even more furious. How dare this fucking rat try to bully me into doing his bidding? And from behind the scenes like a coward! Again, I put off writing the note because if I wrote it then it would have been vicious and wholly undiplomatic. It took a few days for me to get into the proper mindset.
Last week I sat down and wrote the note. I had put a lot of effort into it, more than he deserved, perhaps, but at the end of the day, no matter what he thinks of me, Rich is a decent enough guy. He's just not happy with his life and his unhappiness affects how he interacts with others. That's not conjecture, he's said as much to me. It took me about a half hour to write the note. When I was through I showed it to Janelle and got the green light to give it to Rich. I left it in the kitchen before I went to bed.
The next morning, the note was on the counter with another note written on the back. Rich had responded quicker than I expected. I read his reply. Here's the gist:
1. Regarding the wall pounding incident, he was only knocking a bit on the ceiling to get me to stop playing. According to him, I knew my guitar playing drives him crazy, so I shouldn't have been surprised at his mild request (I'm not quoting him directly here, but I'm coming damn close)
2. Posting the cable bill in the manner he did was only to remind me that it was soon to be due. Oh, that's all it was. Why that bothered me I don't know.
3. He resents the fact that I don't contribute to household supplies. This, almost more than anything else, infuriated me. It was patently untrue. I thought about what I'd bought for the house in recent memory: Light bulbs, trash bags, visitor passes, sponges. As Janelle said, he was reaching with that one. Whatever I haven't bought for the house, Janelle has. I don't know what Rich has bought. I'm not saying he hasn't contributed, but as far as I know, he hasn't
4. He accused me of being equally as passive/aggressive as I accused him of being because I had left a note one time about taking out the trash. Guilty as charged, but it happened a while ago and it was the only time, current note notwithstanding, that I've left a note. He seemed to be implying that what I did was no different than his practice of screaming of yelling, wall pounding, door slamming, etc., that he engages in. Sorry, Rich, but you're reaching.
The note ended with him stating he wasn't comfortable living here anymore and it was time for him to move on. He didn't address the soap dispenser issue. He hasn't talked to me since. He has, however, warmed up to Janelle even more. That night, he did all her dishes for her. I wonder if he did that in an effort to secure her as an ally, to show her he's a rational, contributing member of the household, unlike me. Of course not. He's always that generous. Hear that drip? That's sarcasm.
Janelle and I are going to speak with Rich and hash out an exit strategy. All well and good that he says it's time to move on, but when? He could be here another week or another five months. And, because he didn't agree to our ultimatum that he communicate in a respectful way, should we dictate when he leaves? I don't want it to come to that, but I can't go on living with someone who actively disrespects me. That's why the meeting should take place.
It's all too bad. It could have worked for Rich here, but his anger gets the best of him. And because he's unable or unwilling to communicate his feelings, he harbors a welter of negativity that has spread throughout the house. I hope this gets resolved soon.
So there you have it. Not so vague, this post. I think I'm all set with the Rich situation for a while. Off to watch the rest of Harakiri, which, so far, has been fantastic.
Over a week ago, in response to my guitar playing and singing, Rich pounded on the wall in his room with such ferocity the entire house shook. If you've been reading this blog for a while you'll know this wasn't the first time he's done this. I stopped playing for a second and then started up playing again, only this time with mounting anger.
Since I've lived with Rich, which has been a few years now, I've had to speak to him several times about his outbursts, which have always been directed at me specifically, whether I was the true source of his anger or not. Each time, I made it a point to confront him, to try to come to some kind of resolution, because if I didn't he would never say a word and let things fester. Rich is not the confrontational type. When he loses his temper, it's not directly. One time I caught him cursing me out for -- God forbid! - turning the heat up (Anything over 65 degrees would incur his wrath). He was startled as I made my way down the stairs - he hadn't expected an audience. I asked him if he'd like to repeat what he said to my face. His response was to flee to his room. The next day I knocked on his door and tried to hash things out. I asked him, as politely as I could, to speak to me directly when he has a grievance with me. I told him it wasn't my intention to anger him, that all I wanted was for him to let me know, in a civil manner, when I did so that I could make the proper adjustments. He said it hadn't been me he was upset with, only the fact that the heat seemed to be constantly on. I didn't believe him, but because he agreed to my request, I kept silent.
I've known for a while now that Rich just flat out doesn't like me. If pressed, I'm not sure he could articulate the precise reason why. Well, maybe he could, and has, but to other people, not me. I've tried with him. I really have. And I've never made an inch of headway with him. Nope, just the continual, barely restrained hostility. Even when it became absolutely clear he just didn't like me, and probably never would no matter what I said I or did, I still wanted to be able to share the same house with him in a comfortable manner. And, to be candid, it didn't sit well with my ego knowing I was disliked.
Before the latest wall pounding incident, it came to my attention that he thought I was messing with his head. He keeps a bottle of hand soap in the shower and, apparently, someone was turning the dispenser so that it faced the wall. And guess who he thought that someone was?
I was dumbstruck, despite the fact that I knew he blamed me for pretty much everything that bothered him in the house. First of all, just the fact that he keeps tabs on how his soap is positioned is a little odd to me. You could move my stuff around every day of the week and I wouldn't notice. And then to accuse me of moving the bottle around, as if I was perpetrating some elaborate, yet subtle, mind game! For him to reach that conclusion, he had to believe that I was out to get him and that this was one way to do it. Besides the voices in his head, which have to be downright disturbing, I suspect his theories have been getting support from other sources. I'm willing to bet anything that there's a whole host of other similar things he's blamed me for. "Hey, my can of Pepsi has been moved a fraction of an inch! Must be that scoundrel Kevin! Who else could it be?"
Knowing that Rich had reached the level of paranoia with me was disturbing but it made sense. It fit his profile. He's a guy who lacks communication skills, particularly as concerns confrontation. Rather than say to me, "Perhaps this sounds a little weird, but have you been playing around with my soap?", he opted to tell Janelle and Craig about my diabolical scheming. I don't know how long that particular issue had been stewing around in his head, but I bet it had been for a while.
I decided, after the wall pounding incident, that I was no longer willing to tolerate that type of behavior. I'd reached my breaking point. Probably should have happened sooner, but I wanted to make our living situation work. A friend told me he would have punched Rich in the face after the first incident. While I don't think the violent route would have worked for me, it probably would have settled things, for better or worse. Probably worse. I'm glad I kept my cool - someone had to - but I'd be lying if I said I didn't harbor fantasies of breaking his jaw for him.
I chose not to confront him directly this time. That method had failed to get the desired results. No, he was getting a note, and in it I was going to voice my displeasure with his behavior and let him know that it would not be tolerated anymore. If he couldn't keep his temper in check and learn to communicate like an adult, we were going to have to make some changes. Despite being fed up with his nonsense, I wanted to be as diplomatic as possible. To that end, I decided to wait a day for my anger to subside before I wrote the note. I wanted to be level headed.
He didn't make it easy on me. I came one night to find the cable bill stabbed on the cork board above our sink with angry red circles drawn around the due date of the bill. It was clearly directed at me. I won't get into the hypocrisy of the action and why, especially in this instance, it was uncalled for, but trust me on this: he was taking another jab at me.
Now I was even more furious. How dare this fucking rat try to bully me into doing his bidding? And from behind the scenes like a coward! Again, I put off writing the note because if I wrote it then it would have been vicious and wholly undiplomatic. It took a few days for me to get into the proper mindset.
Last week I sat down and wrote the note. I had put a lot of effort into it, more than he deserved, perhaps, but at the end of the day, no matter what he thinks of me, Rich is a decent enough guy. He's just not happy with his life and his unhappiness affects how he interacts with others. That's not conjecture, he's said as much to me. It took me about a half hour to write the note. When I was through I showed it to Janelle and got the green light to give it to Rich. I left it in the kitchen before I went to bed.
The next morning, the note was on the counter with another note written on the back. Rich had responded quicker than I expected. I read his reply. Here's the gist:
1. Regarding the wall pounding incident, he was only knocking a bit on the ceiling to get me to stop playing. According to him, I knew my guitar playing drives him crazy, so I shouldn't have been surprised at his mild request (I'm not quoting him directly here, but I'm coming damn close)
2. Posting the cable bill in the manner he did was only to remind me that it was soon to be due. Oh, that's all it was. Why that bothered me I don't know.
3. He resents the fact that I don't contribute to household supplies. This, almost more than anything else, infuriated me. It was patently untrue. I thought about what I'd bought for the house in recent memory: Light bulbs, trash bags, visitor passes, sponges. As Janelle said, he was reaching with that one. Whatever I haven't bought for the house, Janelle has. I don't know what Rich has bought. I'm not saying he hasn't contributed, but as far as I know, he hasn't
4. He accused me of being equally as passive/aggressive as I accused him of being because I had left a note one time about taking out the trash. Guilty as charged, but it happened a while ago and it was the only time, current note notwithstanding, that I've left a note. He seemed to be implying that what I did was no different than his practice of screaming of yelling, wall pounding, door slamming, etc., that he engages in. Sorry, Rich, but you're reaching.
The note ended with him stating he wasn't comfortable living here anymore and it was time for him to move on. He didn't address the soap dispenser issue. He hasn't talked to me since. He has, however, warmed up to Janelle even more. That night, he did all her dishes for her. I wonder if he did that in an effort to secure her as an ally, to show her he's a rational, contributing member of the household, unlike me. Of course not. He's always that generous. Hear that drip? That's sarcasm.
Janelle and I are going to speak with Rich and hash out an exit strategy. All well and good that he says it's time to move on, but when? He could be here another week or another five months. And, because he didn't agree to our ultimatum that he communicate in a respectful way, should we dictate when he leaves? I don't want it to come to that, but I can't go on living with someone who actively disrespects me. That's why the meeting should take place.
It's all too bad. It could have worked for Rich here, but his anger gets the best of him. And because he's unable or unwilling to communicate his feelings, he harbors a welter of negativity that has spread throughout the house. I hope this gets resolved soon.
So there you have it. Not so vague, this post. I think I'm all set with the Rich situation for a while. Off to watch the rest of Harakiri, which, so far, has been fantastic.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Me and my arrow, straighter than narrow
A record short post because I just don't feel like delving deep into something that, if covered, won't allow anything less. Just know that today my reaction to one person's antics can be summed up with "You've got to be fucking kidding me!". And know also that if it weren't for the friendly people I encountered everywhere I went today, I would have been more aggravated than I was, which was plenty. Today, I ruminated about loyalty, about sticking up for your friends when it's called for. I came to the conclusion that at least one person I'm close with has done the opposite. I'm okay with that. I'm trying to accept people for who they are. Trying to take the high road.
Okay, maybe not the shortest post ever, but it won't be a long one, to be sure. Sorry if I was too vague. The dust needs to settle a little and then, maybe, I'll elaborate. It may not seem so, but I'm in pretty good spirits. I'm just bedraggled and need to regroup. Things are changing and not really in a bad way. Well, maybe for one or two people. There I go being vague again. Best I end this before you really get upset with me.
One more thing: the latest episode of Lost was sublime! Positively sublime!
Okay, maybe not the shortest post ever, but it won't be a long one, to be sure. Sorry if I was too vague. The dust needs to settle a little and then, maybe, I'll elaborate. It may not seem so, but I'm in pretty good spirits. I'm just bedraggled and need to regroup. Things are changing and not really in a bad way. Well, maybe for one or two people. There I go being vague again. Best I end this before you really get upset with me.
One more thing: the latest episode of Lost was sublime! Positively sublime!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
I'm lying in my bed, the blanket is warm, this body will never be safe from harm
I missed tonight's episode of Lost because I still hadn't watched the episode from last week. I was hoping for a double header, but it wasn't to be. I really enjoyed the episode I watched. Really well done. I was going to comment on how this show has jumped the shark in reverse, but I don't have the energy to explain what I mean by that, even though I think it should be readily apparent.
Yes, lack of energy. I'm starting to drift. A short post, this, but I want keep a rhythm going with my writing. Well, Kevin, before you go is there anything you want to add? No? Are you sure, because it seems like you want to say something? Okay, this is it -- the post is ending. One last chance: speak now or forever hold your yada yada yada. Alright, then. It's off with me, readers. I seek the soft comforts of my bed, where under the covers I'll read, maybe listen to some music or a Bigfoot podcast, before sleep overtakes me.
(
Yes, lack of energy. I'm starting to drift. A short post, this, but I want keep a rhythm going with my writing. Well, Kevin, before you go is there anything you want to add? No? Are you sure, because it seems like you want to say something? Okay, this is it -- the post is ending. One last chance: speak now or forever hold your yada yada yada. Alright, then. It's off with me, readers. I seek the soft comforts of my bed, where under the covers I'll read, maybe listen to some music or a Bigfoot podcast, before sleep overtakes me.
(
Monday, March 8, 2010
O' Paul, I know you feel disoriented tonight, but Paul, I hope you know that we're all here, and we won't let your sleep upset you tonight
I was at work briefly before I hit the road to Nashua to work at the registry for a while. I was happy to be out and about, especially because the weather was nice. I didn't get back until late afternoon. It was almost like having a day off, except I would never hang out at the Registry of Deeds on my day off. Well, maybe if they was some kind of magic show going on.
The Invention Of Lying was pretty good. Funny concept: In a world where everyone tells the truth all the time, one man figures out how to use lying to his advantage. What was particularly funny about the movie was everyone saying exactly what they were thinking. Unfortunately--and this is the case with most comedies -- the film was too formulaic for me to give it a glowing review. Still, I laughed out loud throughout, there were a ton of cool cameos, and it starred Ricky Gervais, who actually got me a little weepy at one point. It hit me like a brick because it was the only point in the film that wasn't trying to bring the funny. And Ricky sold it, son! Got me all teary and shit.
I've been away from running and yoga for about a week now. And I've stopped meditating and working from the Pathfinder book. Oh yes, something in me has rebelled, has curled up in a little ball and become unavailable to anything that might change it's reality only slightly. Time to get back on track, I say. Paralysis by analysis does me no good.
Didn't watch the Oscars, but I was pleased to hear Christoph Walz won an award for Best Supporting Actor. His performance in Inglorious Basterds was one of the best I've seen in a while.
Ok, troops, I'm done with you. Hope you've learned something, or at the very least become a better person, having read this stunning bit of writing I've delivered to you.
The Invention Of Lying was pretty good. Funny concept: In a world where everyone tells the truth all the time, one man figures out how to use lying to his advantage. What was particularly funny about the movie was everyone saying exactly what they were thinking. Unfortunately--and this is the case with most comedies -- the film was too formulaic for me to give it a glowing review. Still, I laughed out loud throughout, there were a ton of cool cameos, and it starred Ricky Gervais, who actually got me a little weepy at one point. It hit me like a brick because it was the only point in the film that wasn't trying to bring the funny. And Ricky sold it, son! Got me all teary and shit.
I've been away from running and yoga for about a week now. And I've stopped meditating and working from the Pathfinder book. Oh yes, something in me has rebelled, has curled up in a little ball and become unavailable to anything that might change it's reality only slightly. Time to get back on track, I say. Paralysis by analysis does me no good.
Didn't watch the Oscars, but I was pleased to hear Christoph Walz won an award for Best Supporting Actor. His performance in Inglorious Basterds was one of the best I've seen in a while.
Ok, troops, I'm done with you. Hope you've learned something, or at the very least become a better person, having read this stunning bit of writing I've delivered to you.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Drunk as hell and no throwing up, halfway home and my pager's still blowing up, I didn't even have to use my AK, I've got to say today was a good day
A lengthier hiatus than I realized. This past week found me preoccupied with several unrelated things; some good, some bad, some in between. Lack of time and energy prevented me from writing, even though I had stuff to write about.
The beginning of the week was devoted to rehearsing for Wednesday's show in Manchester. I say rehearsing, but it wasn't so much that: it was mostly writing lyrics for three songs I wanted to play. I do this all the time, this last minute rush to complete songs. I could have taken it easy and whipped out a set of older songs that would have required little or no preparation, but I chose a different path. Hey, it got me to finish up some songs that I feel pretty good about. I'll probably post some lyrics on the other site.
The performance went well. Besides myself, Scott and Shane from NSI, and Nikki Farr and her band played. Jewell and Beanstalk (or is it just bean?) is a cozy little eatery in Manchester and everyone who worked there was really laid back. Scott and I were the first among the performers to arrive and we were given spinach pie and lamb filled grape leaves to tide us over before we played. The food was excellent. Our waitress told us a cute little Greek man makes it fresh everyday and brings it in. Based on her description, I envisioned a cute, little lawn gnome and I asked her if he was the type of guy you want to pat on the head. She gave it some thought and said, "You know, he's actually like six-five, so even if he was sitting down, I'd have difficulty doing that. So, I guess I didn't describe him that accurately. He is a cute old man, though."
I went on first. What served as the stage was a cleft in the narrow space that divided the front and back of the restaurant. A tight fit, but it enabled everyone to get a view, or at least a semblance of one. My set coincided with the dinner rush, and while it wasn't the most attentive audience I've played in front of, there were enough people listening to make it worth it. I don't always mind this scenario and I didn't that night. I always like playing whether people are listening or not.
What made the night really worth it was hearing the other performers, who were excellent, and spending time with friends. Kim and John, Kevin and Janet, Rachael and Mike, Jenny, Shane, and Scott: a solid lineup if I ever saw one.
Last night was Michelle's surprise birthday party at Martha's in Nashua. There was a 70's theme and funk and disco poured out of the monitors all night. A good amount of attendees were decked out in regalia appropriate to the decade. Heath, with his giant afro, mustache, vest, and tight burgundy pants, was hilarious to behold. Rachael wore roller skates and shared them with anyone willing to brave the experience. She tried, in vain, to get me to put them on. It was enough that I was goofing it up on the dance floor for a good chunk of the night. A great time! I love my friends.
I was exhausted when I left the party and it took listening to the first Cheap Trick record at a high volume to keep me alert. By the time I got home, I was so jazzed from listening to them, that I went up to my room, plopped on a pair of headphones, and blissed out to At Budokan.
--
On the home front, trouble has been brewing. It will be addressed shortly. It's been a thorn in my side for days. As things develop, I will go into more detail.
--
Hit the jack pot yesterday. I found a site that has free downloads of every episode of Ricky Gervais' podcast. I've listened to about five episodes already. He and Stephen Merchant make me laugh and laugh and laugh. Speaking of Ricky, I hope to watch The Invention of Lying tonight. Ebert gave it a positive review. Doesn't matter, I'll watch anything with Ricky Gervais in it.
Today's playlist:
1. Lhasa De Sela - Lhasa
2. Nirvana - In Utero
3. Sandy Denny - The North Star Grassman and the Ravens
4. Richard and Linda Thompson - I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight
5. Marvin Gaye - What's Going On
I'm off to watch a little of the Celtics game, play some music, read from Carrion Comfort, watch that movie, and maybe, just maybe, I'll start a religion. That last one may take some time.
The beginning of the week was devoted to rehearsing for Wednesday's show in Manchester. I say rehearsing, but it wasn't so much that: it was mostly writing lyrics for three songs I wanted to play. I do this all the time, this last minute rush to complete songs. I could have taken it easy and whipped out a set of older songs that would have required little or no preparation, but I chose a different path. Hey, it got me to finish up some songs that I feel pretty good about. I'll probably post some lyrics on the other site.
The performance went well. Besides myself, Scott and Shane from NSI, and Nikki Farr and her band played. Jewell and Beanstalk (or is it just bean?) is a cozy little eatery in Manchester and everyone who worked there was really laid back. Scott and I were the first among the performers to arrive and we were given spinach pie and lamb filled grape leaves to tide us over before we played. The food was excellent. Our waitress told us a cute little Greek man makes it fresh everyday and brings it in. Based on her description, I envisioned a cute, little lawn gnome and I asked her if he was the type of guy you want to pat on the head. She gave it some thought and said, "You know, he's actually like six-five, so even if he was sitting down, I'd have difficulty doing that. So, I guess I didn't describe him that accurately. He is a cute old man, though."
I went on first. What served as the stage was a cleft in the narrow space that divided the front and back of the restaurant. A tight fit, but it enabled everyone to get a view, or at least a semblance of one. My set coincided with the dinner rush, and while it wasn't the most attentive audience I've played in front of, there were enough people listening to make it worth it. I don't always mind this scenario and I didn't that night. I always like playing whether people are listening or not.
What made the night really worth it was hearing the other performers, who were excellent, and spending time with friends. Kim and John, Kevin and Janet, Rachael and Mike, Jenny, Shane, and Scott: a solid lineup if I ever saw one.
Last night was Michelle's surprise birthday party at Martha's in Nashua. There was a 70's theme and funk and disco poured out of the monitors all night. A good amount of attendees were decked out in regalia appropriate to the decade. Heath, with his giant afro, mustache, vest, and tight burgundy pants, was hilarious to behold. Rachael wore roller skates and shared them with anyone willing to brave the experience. She tried, in vain, to get me to put them on. It was enough that I was goofing it up on the dance floor for a good chunk of the night. A great time! I love my friends.
I was exhausted when I left the party and it took listening to the first Cheap Trick record at a high volume to keep me alert. By the time I got home, I was so jazzed from listening to them, that I went up to my room, plopped on a pair of headphones, and blissed out to At Budokan.
--
On the home front, trouble has been brewing. It will be addressed shortly. It's been a thorn in my side for days. As things develop, I will go into more detail.
--
Hit the jack pot yesterday. I found a site that has free downloads of every episode of Ricky Gervais' podcast. I've listened to about five episodes already. He and Stephen Merchant make me laugh and laugh and laugh. Speaking of Ricky, I hope to watch The Invention of Lying tonight. Ebert gave it a positive review. Doesn't matter, I'll watch anything with Ricky Gervais in it.
Today's playlist:
1. Lhasa De Sela - Lhasa
2. Nirvana - In Utero
3. Sandy Denny - The North Star Grassman and the Ravens
4. Richard and Linda Thompson - I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight
5. Marvin Gaye - What's Going On
I'm off to watch a little of the Celtics game, play some music, read from Carrion Comfort, watch that movie, and maybe, just maybe, I'll start a religion. That last one may take some time.
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