Some of you may remember the following dialogue from "Seinfeld" in October of 1996:
New scene.
Frank and Estelle are in their kitchen.
Estelle: Here's your omelet.
Frank: It's dry.
Estelle: That's the way I always make it.
Frank: Well it sucks.
Estelle: What did you say?
Frank: Your meatloaf is mushy, your salmon croquettes are oily and your
eggplant parmesan is a disgrace to this house!
Estelle: Well that's too bad, because I'm the only one who cooks around here!
Frank: Not any more! Gimme that spatula! I'm back, baby!
I have had the privilege of not having to work for the past month, and it has been nice. Stressful, at times (sense of impending doom), but nice. I kind of feel like Frank Costanza right now...not reborn really, but back to where I was when I liked myself more (oh don't worry, I still love myself).
I have begun reading a book that I purchased nearly 8 years ago. This book was never read due to the erratic nature of my life (work) since I acquired the book. It is called Death Be Not Proud ; it is a very sad book, but a good book nonetheless. I wish that I would have read it in high school, although it very well may not have had the same effect. It was analogous to one of those random lucky finds at the recently extinct, sprawling CD megastores: after browsing through the works of artists that I knew, I would search for anything that looked or sounded interesting, especially if I liked the cover of the album. Once in Chicago, I came across the slightly yellowed photograph of Marina City on the cover of "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot," and bought it for that reason (it is/was my favorite building). Almost as an afterthought, I enjoyed the music as well.
It has been quite some time since I consumed any significant quantity of alcohol (I had been mildly intoxicated nearly two months ago during the hunt for a "Louisiana" cougar). I looked at the Jose Cuervo Black Medallion bottle of tequila sitting on the kitchen counter in an almost nostalgic manner. I then picked it up and stroked it lovingly....(little rogue), after which over the course of maybe 90 minutes, I proceeded to knock back probably two thirds of the bottle. I was fucked like a *^%@#& (Denise Democratic) bicycle. Next, in a stroke of brilliance that can only be followed by the drowning of a majority of the brain's neurotransmitters by ethanol, I decided to (who would have guessed) call people on the phone. I always hate the day after drinking....I mean, it's like being abducted by aliens. It's 3-4 hours of my life that have been lost forever. Oh well, at least I don't remember much. Like the comedian Carrot Top once said, a note pad should be attached to the bottle of tequila so that one could write apologies on it before he was drunk.
Back (stick) to the story.....I read this (nonfiction) book, about a boy who is 17 that ends up dying of a brain tumor. Written in the 1940s, it is a surprisingly accurate depiction of the medical and surgical treatment of such an affliction. That aside, the kid is nearly impossibly likeable, and the story made me rather sad. It is good in that it makes one think and not take things for granted (which I try really, really hard to avoid). Most of all, this kid makes me feel selfish. I know that I am by no means an evil person, and I wish most people well in their endeavors most of the time. Be that as it may, the book makes me see that I have been concerned primarily with looking out for (me, me, me)myself during my 20s. When I was about this kid's age, perhaps, I looked at life in much the same way as he did. I believed in the good of humanity, and I nearly always put others before myself. I pretty much did an about face at the age of 22, however. I felt that society as a whole was greedy, and that they would take full advantage anything and anyone that they could. I felt that people would use me because I was willing to help them; consequently, I became more selfish and less helpful. After all, it was my time ("my way, mine, me"), and most people probably didn't really care about me anyway. Now I'm in my early thirties, and I am trying to reach a point intermediate of these two extremes, especially since I want to have a child (?children) at some point in the future. Just another illustration that nothing is free and that risks have to be taken for anything worth having.
Anyhow, as I thought about Frank Costanza overturning the table with all of the Jewish food on it, I figured hell....I'm back....at least for the time being.....I am fucking tired.
"I found you standing there
When I was seventeen
Now I'm thirty-two
And I can't remember what I'd seen in you
I made a promise
Said it everyday
Now I'm reading romance novels
And I'm dreaming of yesterday"
"Home"
Sheryl Crow
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
simplicity and hermiticity
Actually very good advice, thanks to Jesse and Katie (this title was taken from a post under the last blog). I have not said anything for nearly 4 months on here. It's nice to take breaks and get things together....much less pressure....although, I can never really completely get rid of the stress of life. I guess without stress, there would not be any real life. Today I didn't go to work because I really didn't feel like it...more or less a mental health day for me.
I remember when I was in about 5th or 6th grade, I had this spot in the back of the playground that was covered by trees and bushes. It was about 10 feet behind the school property--probably someone else's land about which they had most likely forgotten. I would not eat lunch at school because it was, well....more or less vile. So, I would eat my lunch rather quickly and then go to that spot. It was nice, because I really didn't care much for many of the other kids, and they really could not see me. I would just sit there during the hour or so long recess and think. I can't exactly remember what I thought about. Most likely about life and about what my plan would be for later on.
I guess at that time, I wished that I had fit in better. I probably thought that I would eventually "fit in" with most of the other people, and that would make me happy. I have to say now 20 years later, yeah....I guess I more or less fit in, or blend in rather. I would say that blending in is more descriptive of what I like to do. It's more like camouflage...I just blend in so that I can pretty much go un-noticed. I think that I'm happier that way. I cannot emphasize how happy I am that I was not "popular" back in the day. Maybe I'm a little bit screwed up, but there are certainly people who have me beat.
I think that the last few months have been a reminiscent of this spot in the back of the playground. I have more or less retreated into obscurity and have not made any sudden moves. Kind of like an animal that feels threatened retreats into the woods and freezes. I have not been drinking much except for the occasional beer or wine. Have not been drunk for nearly 4 months. I think that it's more or less a good thing...at least I'm in control.
Most people probably view being in control as a good thing. I was very shy and inhibited when I was younger, and I had too much control. So, when I would drink enough to lose most of my inhibitions (i.e., control), I was more fun. Oh people would talk about how much fun I was then. How come I was never that much fun before? I don't know because I was very shy and terrified of going even remotely toward the center of attention. But sometimes, it's good to hear that you are fun, right? Fun is better than a total misfit outcast (?fuckup).
Over the years, I think that maybe I kept this up. Carrying it further than it needed to be carried. If fun is good, then more fun has got to be better. I had become more outspoken, more defiant, more reckless. Don't get me wrong, I'm still defiant, but I'm (more) in control. And I have always been able to take care of myself. I never went "past the point of no return". It was more like going to the edge of the cliff and knowing just how much to lean over before I would tumble off. Scary, thrilling, etc.
I think that most of my wild days are behind me now. Not saying that I will never have wild moments--never is a terribly long time. But, I think this way suits me at least for the time. I'm not a kid anymore, and I have to face that. I have always seen things clearly, and that has not changed. Maybe I have changed in the way that I interpret what I see. I think for now, I just want to be left alone. I don't want to be alone, though. The clarity of things may be slightly decreased for now, and maybe I don't know exactly where to go. So, I'll veer off the trail and take a break. I'll find my way....always seem to.
Sorry that I have been so quiet. I'm kind of in defensive mode, though. I found a song today on youtube that I really liked:
"I love you
and i miss you too
i really do love you
and i really miss you too
but i don't know you
and i don't need you
and i don't want you anymore"
--Cat Power
"Empty Shell"
I remember when I was in about 5th or 6th grade, I had this spot in the back of the playground that was covered by trees and bushes. It was about 10 feet behind the school property--probably someone else's land about which they had most likely forgotten. I would not eat lunch at school because it was, well....more or less vile. So, I would eat my lunch rather quickly and then go to that spot. It was nice, because I really didn't care much for many of the other kids, and they really could not see me. I would just sit there during the hour or so long recess and think. I can't exactly remember what I thought about. Most likely about life and about what my plan would be for later on.
I guess at that time, I wished that I had fit in better. I probably thought that I would eventually "fit in" with most of the other people, and that would make me happy. I have to say now 20 years later, yeah....I guess I more or less fit in, or blend in rather. I would say that blending in is more descriptive of what I like to do. It's more like camouflage...I just blend in so that I can pretty much go un-noticed. I think that I'm happier that way. I cannot emphasize how happy I am that I was not "popular" back in the day. Maybe I'm a little bit screwed up, but there are certainly people who have me beat.
I think that the last few months have been a reminiscent of this spot in the back of the playground. I have more or less retreated into obscurity and have not made any sudden moves. Kind of like an animal that feels threatened retreats into the woods and freezes. I have not been drinking much except for the occasional beer or wine. Have not been drunk for nearly 4 months. I think that it's more or less a good thing...at least I'm in control.
Most people probably view being in control as a good thing. I was very shy and inhibited when I was younger, and I had too much control. So, when I would drink enough to lose most of my inhibitions (i.e., control), I was more fun. Oh people would talk about how much fun I was then. How come I was never that much fun before? I don't know because I was very shy and terrified of going even remotely toward the center of attention. But sometimes, it's good to hear that you are fun, right? Fun is better than a total misfit outcast (?fuckup).
Over the years, I think that maybe I kept this up. Carrying it further than it needed to be carried. If fun is good, then more fun has got to be better. I had become more outspoken, more defiant, more reckless. Don't get me wrong, I'm still defiant, but I'm (more) in control. And I have always been able to take care of myself. I never went "past the point of no return". It was more like going to the edge of the cliff and knowing just how much to lean over before I would tumble off. Scary, thrilling, etc.
I think that most of my wild days are behind me now. Not saying that I will never have wild moments--never is a terribly long time. But, I think this way suits me at least for the time. I'm not a kid anymore, and I have to face that. I have always seen things clearly, and that has not changed. Maybe I have changed in the way that I interpret what I see. I think for now, I just want to be left alone. I don't want to be alone, though. The clarity of things may be slightly decreased for now, and maybe I don't know exactly where to go. So, I'll veer off the trail and take a break. I'll find my way....always seem to.
Sorry that I have been so quiet. I'm kind of in defensive mode, though. I found a song today on youtube that I really liked:
"I love you
and i miss you too
i really do love you
and i really miss you too
but i don't know you
and i don't need you
and i don't want you anymore"
--Cat Power
"Empty Shell"
Saturday, October 13, 2007
"I Like Watching You Out There....It's Comforting"
The title is from a song called "Good Love Never Dies" by Liz Phair, with whom I'm quite certain that I have a semi-healthy fascination...after all, she is from Chicago. It's a great song, too if you have never heard it; you should listen to it.
I was going to talk this evening, since I have nothing better to do (after being on call yesterday until early this morning and then going on call at 7am tomorrow morning) about the origin of my blog name....littlerogue77.
I'm sure that the '77 part is not hard to get....it's the year that I was born. Just a little over 30 years ago....sigh. Oh well, I guess I'm more or less grown by now, but I don't have to face it.
Little rogue came from a short story that I read in college entitled "Miss Brill" by Katherine Mansfield. Here is a quote from the story:
"Although it was so brilliantly fine - the blue sky powdered with gold and great spots of light like white wine splashed over the Jardins Publiques - Miss Brill was glad that she had decided on her fur. The air was motionless, but when you opened your mouth there was just a faint chill, like a chill from a glass of iced water before you sip, and now and again a leaf came drifting - from nowhere, from the sky. Miss Brill put up her hand and touched her fur. Dear little thing! It was nice to feel it again. She had taken it out of its box that afternoon, shaken out the moth-powder, given it a good brush, and rubbed the life back into the dim little eyes. "What has been happening to me?" said the sad little eyes. Oh, how sweet it was to see them snap at her again from the red eiderdown! ... But the nose, which was of some black composition, wasn't at all firm. It must have had a knock, somehow. Never mind - a little dab of black sealing-wax when the time came - when it was absolutely necessary ... Little rogue! Yes, she really felt like that about it. Little rogue biting its tail just by her left ear. She could have taken it off and laid it on her lap and stroked it."
I think that there is something that everyone has that makes them feel comfortable. Something from when they were younger, perhaps. I still have my blanket from when I was a baby that's as old as I am...I still cover with it when I just want to cover with something light and not too hot. I have plenty of nostalgic things here and there that make me feel more comfortable.
Well, in the mid-to-late 1990's, when I was in college, I had taken quite a liking to Absolut Citron, which had just made it's appearance at about that time. I used to call it my "little rogue". I would stand with the bottle and hold it like a baby. Then I would stroke the bottle. It almost became sort of ritualistic before I would get really drunk. Something crazy usually ensued. I'm sure that someone somewhere has a picture of me from 10 years ago stroking the "little rogue".
Sometimes I would also make my cat (who lived with my parents) act as my "little rogue"--she would act as my fur stole. I'm not sure whether or not she liked this--she was an odd cat, so I would not be a bit surprised if she did. I would place her around my neck and walk around with her. She didn't seem to mind. She was a pretty white cat with mid-length fur. She died earlier this summer at the age of 13....she was a good cat.
I recall that I had to write a paper on "Miss Brill" when I was a freshman in college. Lord knows that paper is probably somewhere around. I was kind of mean to Miss Brill and her meddling nature. I would probably be more sympathetic now. I have grown softer in my old age. I kind of feel sorry for her. She seemed kind of lonely; I don't think that anyone deserves to be lonely all the time. It really sucks for those of you who have not felt like this. But this was back when I was more or less a kid in 1995, and I was just not as sympathetic to people.
I guess the point of this story is that everyone has something that makes him or her feel comfortable. Food, pictures, friends, movies.....I mean it could be anything. I think that's ok, though. I don't feel completely comfortable all the time.
I was kind of like Miss Brill when I was younger. I never really fit in. I never really had much of a life. But, as I got older, and I had more of a life, I realized maybe it's better that I never fit in. Maybe it's better because I understand what it's like to kind of be on the outside looking in. This is especially true in kids today that are I guess in high school (teenagers). When you are young, you want to fit in with the norm. When you are a little older, I think most people want to set themselves apart in some fashion. I am who I want to be now. I feel complete as far as my personality. I don't feel my life is complete yet, but then again I'm only 30. I have a few good years left, I think.
So, that's where the name comes from, in case anyone was wondering. For those of you who want to read the story (Gigi), it's really short. Here is the link:
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/MissBril.shtml
"...Tell me what can I say to keep you in my life
All the words slip away when I look in your eyes
Because I can never relax
I've got to keep it exciting
Make it attractive
Keep it alive
Keep you coming back
I'm already fighting to keep what I have
When the fire is out and I've given up
You come running out, and you build it up..."
"Good Love Never Dies"
Liz Phair
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVdEryfmlUM
I was going to talk this evening, since I have nothing better to do (after being on call yesterday until early this morning and then going on call at 7am tomorrow morning) about the origin of my blog name....littlerogue77.
I'm sure that the '77 part is not hard to get....it's the year that I was born. Just a little over 30 years ago....sigh. Oh well, I guess I'm more or less grown by now, but I don't have to face it.
Little rogue came from a short story that I read in college entitled "Miss Brill" by Katherine Mansfield. Here is a quote from the story:
"Although it was so brilliantly fine - the blue sky powdered with gold and great spots of light like white wine splashed over the Jardins Publiques - Miss Brill was glad that she had decided on her fur. The air was motionless, but when you opened your mouth there was just a faint chill, like a chill from a glass of iced water before you sip, and now and again a leaf came drifting - from nowhere, from the sky. Miss Brill put up her hand and touched her fur. Dear little thing! It was nice to feel it again. She had taken it out of its box that afternoon, shaken out the moth-powder, given it a good brush, and rubbed the life back into the dim little eyes. "What has been happening to me?" said the sad little eyes. Oh, how sweet it was to see them snap at her again from the red eiderdown! ... But the nose, which was of some black composition, wasn't at all firm. It must have had a knock, somehow. Never mind - a little dab of black sealing-wax when the time came - when it was absolutely necessary ... Little rogue! Yes, she really felt like that about it. Little rogue biting its tail just by her left ear. She could have taken it off and laid it on her lap and stroked it."
I think that there is something that everyone has that makes them feel comfortable. Something from when they were younger, perhaps. I still have my blanket from when I was a baby that's as old as I am...I still cover with it when I just want to cover with something light and not too hot. I have plenty of nostalgic things here and there that make me feel more comfortable.
Well, in the mid-to-late 1990's, when I was in college, I had taken quite a liking to Absolut Citron, which had just made it's appearance at about that time. I used to call it my "little rogue". I would stand with the bottle and hold it like a baby. Then I would stroke the bottle. It almost became sort of ritualistic before I would get really drunk. Something crazy usually ensued. I'm sure that someone somewhere has a picture of me from 10 years ago stroking the "little rogue".
Sometimes I would also make my cat (who lived with my parents) act as my "little rogue"--she would act as my fur stole. I'm not sure whether or not she liked this--she was an odd cat, so I would not be a bit surprised if she did. I would place her around my neck and walk around with her. She didn't seem to mind. She was a pretty white cat with mid-length fur. She died earlier this summer at the age of 13....she was a good cat.
I recall that I had to write a paper on "Miss Brill" when I was a freshman in college. Lord knows that paper is probably somewhere around. I was kind of mean to Miss Brill and her meddling nature. I would probably be more sympathetic now. I have grown softer in my old age. I kind of feel sorry for her. She seemed kind of lonely; I don't think that anyone deserves to be lonely all the time. It really sucks for those of you who have not felt like this. But this was back when I was more or less a kid in 1995, and I was just not as sympathetic to people.
I guess the point of this story is that everyone has something that makes him or her feel comfortable. Food, pictures, friends, movies.....I mean it could be anything. I think that's ok, though. I don't feel completely comfortable all the time.
I was kind of like Miss Brill when I was younger. I never really fit in. I never really had much of a life. But, as I got older, and I had more of a life, I realized maybe it's better that I never fit in. Maybe it's better because I understand what it's like to kind of be on the outside looking in. This is especially true in kids today that are I guess in high school (teenagers). When you are young, you want to fit in with the norm. When you are a little older, I think most people want to set themselves apart in some fashion. I am who I want to be now. I feel complete as far as my personality. I don't feel my life is complete yet, but then again I'm only 30. I have a few good years left, I think.
So, that's where the name comes from, in case anyone was wondering. For those of you who want to read the story (Gigi), it's really short. Here is the link:
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/MissBril.shtml
"...Tell me what can I say to keep you in my life
All the words slip away when I look in your eyes
Because I can never relax
I've got to keep it exciting
Make it attractive
Keep it alive
Keep you coming back
I'm already fighting to keep what I have
When the fire is out and I've given up
You come running out, and you build it up..."
"Good Love Never Dies"
Liz Phair
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVdEryfmlUM
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
"It was.....'It was......sultry'"
That was a quote from the late 80's movie "Throw Mama from the Train". I am up late on call....I should be either reading or sleeping. I just took a Benadryl, and I'm waiting for it to take effect.
I was thinking of the movie when I was frustrated with my air conditioner earlier this evening. Sometimes it has a mind not to comply with the temperature to which I set it. So I was drinking some tea and got rather warm and uncomfortable, almost to the point of perspiration. So, I guess that was what reminded me of the line from the movie.
I guess it's another Tuesday ("he has a daughter he calls Easter; she was born on a Tuesday night") night in Atlanta. I think it was my grandmother's birthday today. How I can recall that I have no idea.
I guess that I don't have a specific topic to talk about this evening (bordering on early morning). I have to wake up in about 5.5 hours. That is going to suck. I hope that I don't get called in, because then, it would be even less sleep.
I was talking to my friend Wendy the other day. We often say to one another, "I hate people". I sometimes wonder if this is true of me or not. I think it's heading toward that way. I don't have great faith in the general kindness of people, not that I really ever did anyway. I don't think that it's all that hard to do. I mind my own business, I don't tell anyone what they should do, unless they specifically ask me what they should do in a given situation. I generally don't start things (well, maybe, if provoked--e.g., by a homeless person asking for money when I'm broke). I don't know anymore. I wish I had "the answer".
I sent a mass e-mail of some of the pics from my birthday in Chicago. Overall, I think I got a good response. I'm still waiting for most of them I guess. It was fun; I needed a vacation. For some reason I think my keyboard needs a wet nap, kind of like the keyboards in Mr. Shaw's room in high school that had some kind of gummy, sap-like, faintly-yellowish residue. My keyboard is black, so I can't tell.
All right. I think I'm going to wipe it down and call it a night.
...Lately it's occurred to me
Exactly what went wrong
I realized I compromised, I sacrificed
Far too much for far too long
Never again, not in this life
Will I be taken twice
Never again, not on your life
Will I make that same mistake
I can't make it twice
Starting out from here today
Swear I'm gonna change my ways
Once mistaken in this life
But never twice...
"Not in this Life"
--Natalie Merchant
I was thinking of the movie when I was frustrated with my air conditioner earlier this evening. Sometimes it has a mind not to comply with the temperature to which I set it. So I was drinking some tea and got rather warm and uncomfortable, almost to the point of perspiration. So, I guess that was what reminded me of the line from the movie.
I guess it's another Tuesday ("he has a daughter he calls Easter; she was born on a Tuesday night") night in Atlanta. I think it was my grandmother's birthday today. How I can recall that I have no idea.
I guess that I don't have a specific topic to talk about this evening (bordering on early morning). I have to wake up in about 5.5 hours. That is going to suck. I hope that I don't get called in, because then, it would be even less sleep.
I was talking to my friend Wendy the other day. We often say to one another, "I hate people". I sometimes wonder if this is true of me or not. I think it's heading toward that way. I don't have great faith in the general kindness of people, not that I really ever did anyway. I don't think that it's all that hard to do. I mind my own business, I don't tell anyone what they should do, unless they specifically ask me what they should do in a given situation. I generally don't start things (well, maybe, if provoked--e.g., by a homeless person asking for money when I'm broke). I don't know anymore. I wish I had "the answer".
I sent a mass e-mail of some of the pics from my birthday in Chicago. Overall, I think I got a good response. I'm still waiting for most of them I guess. It was fun; I needed a vacation. For some reason I think my keyboard needs a wet nap, kind of like the keyboards in Mr. Shaw's room in high school that had some kind of gummy, sap-like, faintly-yellowish residue. My keyboard is black, so I can't tell.
All right. I think I'm going to wipe it down and call it a night.
...Lately it's occurred to me
Exactly what went wrong
I realized I compromised, I sacrificed
Far too much for far too long
Never again, not in this life
Will I be taken twice
Never again, not on your life
Will I make that same mistake
I can't make it twice
Starting out from here today
Swear I'm gonna change my ways
Once mistaken in this life
But never twice...
"Not in this Life"
--Natalie Merchant
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Oh But I Was So Much Older Then.........
This blog has to do with me turning 30.....yes----the big 3-0. Although, I can't say that I look 30, as just tonight I was asked for my ID in a local bar here in Atlanta. Thank God for small favors.
It would suffice to say that it began on the morning of September 27, 2007. Since my DOB is 09/27/77. I took a flight to Chicago, my favorite of the US cities, as I have never been out of the US.
I arrived around 5pm, an hour later than I was supposed to have arrived. Apparently, we were stuck on the runway for an hour. I slept through the whole trip, and I woke up just as we were landing in Chicago.
I have been to Chicago approximately 10-15 times since 2002, my first trip there. I love the city. I took the blue line L train to the hotel where Gigi had reservations. I spoke with Dad and my grandmother on the way to the hotel. I love the L train...not certain exactly why...always have for some reason or other.
So, I get to the hotel, and I wait for my friends Amy and Gigi, both of whom are well-known to the family. They arrived around 1.5 hours after I did. I just waited. Then we went to the room, and we walked to Gino's East, my favorite pizza place in the whole world. Pizzeria Uno is good, but still inferior.....someone has to be second.
After that, we drank quite a bit, and then we went out. I would have to say that the first night was one of the wildest. I was making out with some Girl named Amy (not flower pot Amy), and Gigi was dancing for a period of about 3-4 minutes in her bra. It was great fun. I think that my shirt was off for a few minutes as well. Amy has pictures somewhere. Most fun I have had since probably the flower pot incident itself (see prior blog). Gigi was rather drunk, and it took quite a bit of pushing her into the bed. Prior to pushing her into bed (or maybe during), she broke into her own special rendition of some song by Linkin Park. I can't recall where I slept. It was one of those vacations. Reminiscent of college.
So the next day, we went to Michigan Ave and had lunch. We bought a few things. We ate lunch at a place called Bandera, which was very good. We bought a few things at some of the stores along Michigan Ave. And then we waited for my brother and his friend, Katie to arrive.
I guess they arrived around 8pm on September 28. Was lots of fun. I took a liking to Katie...guess because I thought she was kind of out there....and she really didn't seem to give a fuck about much. This whole trip is kind of hazy. I think the night after my birthday, we finally settled on a Tequila bar. I don't care what people say about Tequila....I have been to jail for Tequila. Fuck. Everyone was fine except for my brother, Jesse. He seemed to be quite sick and vomited that night and the next day. Very similar to when I was in third grade and he would always puke after drinking orange juice. I have no idea....I felt fine. Anyhow....after the tequila extravaganza, we decided to ?wander into this bar that was rather crowded. I don't remember much. I remember that we had no idea what type of bar this was. I remember that the bar was huge. I remember there was a stage. I remember that there was dancing. I remember looking for Gigi...shocking. We somehow by the grace of God made it home...I don't recall the trip, and was apparently quite comatose after the trip.
I think that his was the night that Gigi got rather ornery. She got pissed off or something about her not sleeping in the bed. I was so gorked they could have pushed me onto the floor and let me sleep there, and I promise that I would not have minded. Amy really gave it to her in the hallway (just kidding), although, I was putting on my clothes and about to give it to her just like George Costanza and T-bone, after which they called him Koko, after the monkey. Thankfully, they came in about at that point.
I think at that time, we decided to go to breakfast at Ann Sather, one of my favorite places. As Miss Thompson would say, the cinnamon rolls were divine (fruit of da vine). I could not eat all of the omlet or the buiscits, but it was all really good, as I had remembered. Later that day, we kind of walked around Lincoln Park and Lakeview and found a T-shirt store called "Threadless", where Gigi wanted to go, and we bought some T-shirts. I also found one in a secondhand store.
By this time, we cabbed it back to the hotel, cleaned up, and then went back to my friend Brian's place. Great fun. Everyone seemed to have a good time. Always personally worried about worlds colliding. Didn't seem to happen. That night, I think that Jesse, Katie, Amy, and Gigi went to eat hot dogs. I am not into hot dogs. Myself, Brian, and some other friends of ours went to eat elsewhere. It was really good. I don't exactly know what the other guys did that night. I stayed with my friends from Chicago, and I ended up sleeping at Brian's. I took the L part of the way, and then used the sun for guidance back to the hotel. I feared that I would miss my flight. It was all ok, though. Gigi and I took a cab to the airport and made it right on time. I needed that vacation. I really did.
Thankfully, it will be a fond memory. Many stories can become of it. Hard to find a closing for this but.....I guess since it was in Chicago (God bless Marina City), it would be appropriate to quote a song from Wilco:
When you're back in your old neighborhood
The cigarettes taste so good
But you're so misunderstood
You're so misunderstood
There's something there that you can't find
Honest when you're tellin' a lie
You hurt her but you don't know why
You love her but you don't know why
Short on long term goals
There's a party there that we oughtta go to
Do you still love rock and roll?
Do you still love rock and roll?
It's only a quarter to three
Reflecting off your C.D.
You're looking at a picture of me
You're staring at a picture of me
Take the guitar player for a ride
He ain't never been satisfied
He thinks he owes some kind of debt
Be years before he gets over it
There's a fortune inside your head
All you touch turns to lead
You think you might just crawl back in bed
The fortune inside your head
You know you're just a mama's boy
Positively unemployed
So misunderstood
So misunderstood
"Misunderstood"
--Wilco
I love that song. Not sure why.
Over and out..........
Ian
It would suffice to say that it began on the morning of September 27, 2007. Since my DOB is 09/27/77. I took a flight to Chicago, my favorite of the US cities, as I have never been out of the US.
I arrived around 5pm, an hour later than I was supposed to have arrived. Apparently, we were stuck on the runway for an hour. I slept through the whole trip, and I woke up just as we were landing in Chicago.
I have been to Chicago approximately 10-15 times since 2002, my first trip there. I love the city. I took the blue line L train to the hotel where Gigi had reservations. I spoke with Dad and my grandmother on the way to the hotel. I love the L train...not certain exactly why...always have for some reason or other.
So, I get to the hotel, and I wait for my friends Amy and Gigi, both of whom are well-known to the family. They arrived around 1.5 hours after I did. I just waited. Then we went to the room, and we walked to Gino's East, my favorite pizza place in the whole world. Pizzeria Uno is good, but still inferior.....someone has to be second.
After that, we drank quite a bit, and then we went out. I would have to say that the first night was one of the wildest. I was making out with some Girl named Amy (not flower pot Amy), and Gigi was dancing for a period of about 3-4 minutes in her bra. It was great fun. I think that my shirt was off for a few minutes as well. Amy has pictures somewhere. Most fun I have had since probably the flower pot incident itself (see prior blog). Gigi was rather drunk, and it took quite a bit of pushing her into the bed. Prior to pushing her into bed (or maybe during), she broke into her own special rendition of some song by Linkin Park. I can't recall where I slept. It was one of those vacations. Reminiscent of college.
So the next day, we went to Michigan Ave and had lunch. We bought a few things. We ate lunch at a place called Bandera, which was very good. We bought a few things at some of the stores along Michigan Ave. And then we waited for my brother and his friend, Katie to arrive.
I guess they arrived around 8pm on September 28. Was lots of fun. I took a liking to Katie...guess because I thought she was kind of out there....and she really didn't seem to give a fuck about much. This whole trip is kind of hazy. I think the night after my birthday, we finally settled on a Tequila bar. I don't care what people say about Tequila....I have been to jail for Tequila. Fuck. Everyone was fine except for my brother, Jesse. He seemed to be quite sick and vomited that night and the next day. Very similar to when I was in third grade and he would always puke after drinking orange juice. I have no idea....I felt fine. Anyhow....after the tequila extravaganza, we decided to ?wander into this bar that was rather crowded. I don't remember much. I remember that we had no idea what type of bar this was. I remember that the bar was huge. I remember there was a stage. I remember that there was dancing. I remember looking for Gigi...shocking. We somehow by the grace of God made it home...I don't recall the trip, and was apparently quite comatose after the trip.
I think that his was the night that Gigi got rather ornery. She got pissed off or something about her not sleeping in the bed. I was so gorked they could have pushed me onto the floor and let me sleep there, and I promise that I would not have minded. Amy really gave it to her in the hallway (just kidding), although, I was putting on my clothes and about to give it to her just like George Costanza and T-bone, after which they called him Koko, after the monkey. Thankfully, they came in about at that point.
I think at that time, we decided to go to breakfast at Ann Sather, one of my favorite places. As Miss Thompson would say, the cinnamon rolls were divine (fruit of da vine). I could not eat all of the omlet or the buiscits, but it was all really good, as I had remembered. Later that day, we kind of walked around Lincoln Park and Lakeview and found a T-shirt store called "Threadless", where Gigi wanted to go, and we bought some T-shirts. I also found one in a secondhand store.
By this time, we cabbed it back to the hotel, cleaned up, and then went back to my friend Brian's place. Great fun. Everyone seemed to have a good time. Always personally worried about worlds colliding. Didn't seem to happen. That night, I think that Jesse, Katie, Amy, and Gigi went to eat hot dogs. I am not into hot dogs. Myself, Brian, and some other friends of ours went to eat elsewhere. It was really good. I don't exactly know what the other guys did that night. I stayed with my friends from Chicago, and I ended up sleeping at Brian's. I took the L part of the way, and then used the sun for guidance back to the hotel. I feared that I would miss my flight. It was all ok, though. Gigi and I took a cab to the airport and made it right on time. I needed that vacation. I really did.
Thankfully, it will be a fond memory. Many stories can become of it. Hard to find a closing for this but.....I guess since it was in Chicago (God bless Marina City), it would be appropriate to quote a song from Wilco:
When you're back in your old neighborhood
The cigarettes taste so good
But you're so misunderstood
You're so misunderstood
There's something there that you can't find
Honest when you're tellin' a lie
You hurt her but you don't know why
You love her but you don't know why
Short on long term goals
There's a party there that we oughtta go to
Do you still love rock and roll?
Do you still love rock and roll?
It's only a quarter to three
Reflecting off your C.D.
You're looking at a picture of me
You're staring at a picture of me
Take the guitar player for a ride
He ain't never been satisfied
He thinks he owes some kind of debt
Be years before he gets over it
There's a fortune inside your head
All you touch turns to lead
You think you might just crawl back in bed
The fortune inside your head
You know you're just a mama's boy
Positively unemployed
So misunderstood
So misunderstood
"Misunderstood"
--Wilco
I love that song. Not sure why.
Over and out..........
Ian
Monday, September 17, 2007
Beauty and Nature and Power
I'll keep this one short. Yes, short. It's late, and I have not blogged in a while, and I am working on a presentation for Sept. 20. Then I have Friday/Sunday/Tuesday call. And then I am going to fucking Chicago; I fucking love Chicago. And, as the guy in Sideways said (sort of an extrapolation), I'm not eating no fucking hot dog. They have pig lips and tails and ground up hooves. Not eating mayo or sushi either. I'm going to be 30....so the fuck what. I still look 24. So fuck it. I'll get some fucking T-shirts and call it a day. Then I might get drunk.
I was coming back from my psychiatrist appointment today. Yes, I have started seeing one. He seems to actually help. Trying to figure out why I'm so anxious all the time. Anyhow, when I was going out to my car, I noticed the light had a slightly different angle. It was not as direct. Mom knows what I'm talking about. Fall is here. It's a different shade of light, and it kind of comes at an angle. It's hard to explain. It is one of the great beauties of the natural world. I was looking at all of the trees, the leaves, the acorns, the individual blades of grass. The dizzying array of colors everywhere, likely taken for granted in their natural splendor. This is true beauty and power. Amazing.
"To see a world in a grain of sand
And heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour."
(from 'Auguries of Innocence')
--William Blake
I was coming back from my psychiatrist appointment today. Yes, I have started seeing one. He seems to actually help. Trying to figure out why I'm so anxious all the time. Anyhow, when I was going out to my car, I noticed the light had a slightly different angle. It was not as direct. Mom knows what I'm talking about. Fall is here. It's a different shade of light, and it kind of comes at an angle. It's hard to explain. It is one of the great beauties of the natural world. I was looking at all of the trees, the leaves, the acorns, the individual blades of grass. The dizzying array of colors everywhere, likely taken for granted in their natural splendor. This is true beauty and power. Amazing.
"To see a world in a grain of sand
And heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour."
(from 'Auguries of Innocence')
--William Blake
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Situation versus Time, i.e. Life
I suppose that I should be sleeping more rather than writing blogs at night since I have been chronically tired this month; however, I feel that the origins of my apathy and arguably less than ideal mood are multi-factorial.
I think that I will dedicate this blog to my friend Gigi, who, aside from being a loyal and honest friend since I have known her, would not mind in the least if I wrote about her in my blog. She's about as weird (hell maybe more so) as I am, for those of you who are not fortunate enough to know her.
I have had this discussion with Gigi in the past about the whole being a square peg in a round hole analogy to life as we were growing up. It's a good simplification of most of us; however, I feel that it lacks a certain dimension (I was reading an article about physics tonight for a conference tomorrow--yeah, extraordinarily fun). My favorite class in college was advanced organic chemistry (whole other blog about that one), but I did enjoy calculus as well. I'm sure most of you will utter a nice, exasperated DMV type sigh at this point--there he goes (again).
So, the square peg in the round hole thing....or hell, the pentagonal peg in the rhomboid hole...doesn't really matter. It represents a slice; a point in time. Usually an awkward, uncomfortable point in time. Thin slices represent snapshots; they are flat, and occur in one plane. If you put these slices together over time (stack them on top of one another, then you add another dimension--I guess sort of like volume). I guess that the y-axis would be situation (I'll call this unit the Gigi, which is a highly dynamic unit--like the electron cloud that "spins" around the nucleus of an atom. The x-axis would of course be time. Add the slices over time and you end up with some kind of tunnel-like structure. Maybe some parts of it are star-shaped, some parts are just really wide (I guess I'd have to add a perpendicular plane to explain that, but I won't get into it), and then maybe some parts would be constricted, like a small pipe that you have to struggle to get through.
This brings me to my current point. I like where I am living now, but I don't really have a support network yet. When I was in Dallas, and, perhaps I didn't have enough power or pressure or whatever to get through the stenotic part of the tunnel, I could at least count on Gigi, Amy, or Wendy to help me (or hell sometimes push me) through. I guess everyone goes through these phases, or situations, if you will. (Gigi, I'm going to call you right after I write this to ask if it's just too crazy to blog about).
I kind of feel lost right now. Things are not coming together as much as I hoped. At the same time, I have met some really nice people here, and I'm sure that it will get better. I'm just at the slice in time where maybe the pipe is narrow and I'm having a little trouble getting through. I feel really stressed out lately. Can't exactly pinpoint the source, as it is multi factorial. I miss my friends. I miss going to movies and going to eat with them. I miss going to watch TV at their houses. I miss having discussions about the sheer absurdity of most people.
So I want to take a moment to thank all of you, in no particular order, of course: Gigi, Amy, Wendy (aka Wendy F-U), Mom (Liz), Dad (Doug), Jesse, Ashley, Miguel, Casey, Jenna, Jennifer Giles, Daphney, Carl Passintino, Erica Hughes, Jeannie Pham, Susan, Tommy and Lauren, Suzanne Dellaria, Devi Saha, Heike Knorpp, Ben Chang, Laura DeMoya, Brian Thompson, Brad, Lennie, Denise, (Sam, Sugar, Delilah, Granny, Shawn, and the Rev. Alvin L Shaw, RIP), Hal Jackson, Brandie Fruge, Lilah Mansour, Lindsay Legnon, Caroline Ferris, Darryl Nash, Marnie Jackson, Gail McLauchlan, Joshua Smith, Lee Garrison, Mark Yee, Natasha, Monica Taylor, Tim Chia, Autumn Stoos, Rodrigo, Joel Davis, John Hutchinson, Kevin Tate.
Inevitably, I know I have forgotten some people along the way. I apologize. Thank you to the people whom I have mentioned for pushing me when I need pushing. Thank you for helping me through this life--at one time or another. Much love to you. I'm sure that my debt to you can never be re-paid, except for knowing that I am as much your friend as you are mine.
Last but not least, thank you to all the people here in Atlanta who have been so nice to me. I do appreciate it.
Oh well, I think I have opened myself up a little more than I should have for the night. Ha ha ha. Oh well, what have you got if you haven't got honesty and/or trust.
Im trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
And the best thing youve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously
Its only life after all...
"Closer to Fine"
The Indigo Girls (Hell I'm in Atlanta, and it's fitting)
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