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Thursday, February 26, 2004
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The sun has returned...thank God. I keep eyeing the window and thinking of my kite in my trunk. ... I need to go. j.s. |
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Tuesday, February 24, 2004
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 I'm not turning the Meaty grey...simply because I just switched the template back to its normal state and I don't want to frighten anyone...but I thought I'd at least post this to show some support and give you all this link. Grey Tuesday So there you go. j.s. |
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Hi. Yet another installment of the WEEKEND RECAP! It's Tuesday though...so we'll see how much I remember of it... Friday I caught up with Luis and K. at my place and had a few drinks, then we went out to The Belv and met some of Luis's friends there...more drinks...Russell arrived around 11...drinks continue... Was a relatively quiet night in there though, meaning there really weren't a whole lot of people. For a Friday night anyway. So we collectively decide to bail and go dance somewhere...it's 1:15 though, so naturally Tantra comes up. We head over...and realize that they've stopped doing the after-hours thing there...it's gone back to just the old "Encounters" swingers club thing that closes at 2. So we catch last call at Sam's, dance for a song, then head over to Mama's for a grilled cheese. Kick it around there until 3:30ish, afterward we call it a night and head back to my place to crash. (After watching the requisite "Marquis DeCarabas" section of Neverwhere...which is still funny even on its 40th viewing.) Saturday I got up to go do my breakfast thing at FountainView. Ended up just going by myself this week, which was probably a good thing since I had a thumping hangover. I sat outside, picked at my "Cafe III" breakfast, read my Kiteboarding Magazine, and was bombarded by the ridiculously loud conversation happening between the 3 girls next to me. Eventually one of them apologized if they had offended me with their rantings, and for being so loud. (ZEUGMA!) And it went a little something like this: "I'm really sorry if our conversation is offending you." "..." "Hey!" **Jeremiah, startled from his reading, looks up** "Mmm?" "I'm sorry if our conversation offends you, we're talking really loud." "No..not at all. I'm honestly not paying any attention to you." "Oh." **Jeremiah reverts his attention to the magazine in his lap** "Hey!" "Ow...yes?" "Are you just trying to relax out here?" "I'm just trying to recover out here...long night last night." "Ohhh...well I have a question, and I want you to answer for all men." "Er...I don't think I'm ready for the "voice of a gender" kind of responsibility this early..." After I say this she launches into a diatribe about breast implants and do I think it's okay for a husband to "force" his wife to get them. "Um...I don't think a husband could force his wife to do anything of the sort." "What?" "Well, she'd have to be at least indifferent to amicable to the idea...otherwise she'd never entertain it. And most certainly wouldn't have had the surgery. Have you asked her if she likes them?" "Um...well...no...but that's not the point." "I think that is the point. If she's okay with it, and we've already established that the husband likes them, then the greatest utilitarian good has been achieved on both parties, and we've reached a happy ending." "Huh...hadn't thought of it like that...and that's true...he couldn't really force her to do it if she didn't want to..." "Glad I could help." "Hey!" "Uggg...yes?" "Well what about this..." This went on for about 30 minutes, with them asking me questions about wives gaining weight and how to go about asking them to lose some of it, to more questions about breast implants, blah, blah, blah... I politely and subtly shook their little snowglobe heads and then excused myself. They thanked me a couple of times for my input, and then went back to arguing about how to properly keep a man. (Yes, I smiled at the irony of that too, as I walked to my car...) After this, I decided to go see Luis and K. in Clear Lake and, if the wind was strong enough, to fly my kite again. So we all go out to a high school park there where we take turns flying it and are concurrently harassed by two little children for the entirety of the outing. I head home around 6 or so, and as soon as I'm clicking my gate opener button my phone rings...it's J.T., and he and Kristin and friends are going out to Baker St. Pub in Rice Village. I groan, but am suddenly and inexplicably nodding in agreement and find myself saying, "Yes...sure...I'm there." So I shower and change and head out...and it was actually super calm. I was stupidly hungover and tired anyway, so I nursed a beer and didn't chat much. After a while we get the idea to head over to Black Swan at the Omni. So we start caravaning over there. I'm on I-10, heading past T.C. Jester, when 6 or 7 Vin Diesel wannabees fly by me at around 100 mph...weaving and dodging through traffic. I had just about enough time to think of my "sucky drivers are causing an inequity in my existence" argument, when I noticed something just didn't look right about the car in front of me. Specifically, it was turned sideways and it's headlights were pointing 45 degrees upward. I slam on the brakes, and simultaneously hit my hazards hoping that the person behind me won't cleave Opal in two. The kid in the car caroms off of at least 3 other cars, all travelling at 70 mph along the freeway, before coming to rest 6 feet in front of me with my headlights shining into the drivers window. I make sure there's no one behind me, back up, and go around them....then call 911 and explain what happened. If they weren't seriously hurt by the wreck, which would be a miracle, then the huge guy they ran into, who was on his way to their car with his fists clenched as I drove by, most certainly caused them severe pain after the fact. Morons. Anyway, I get to Black Swan, and it's dead as stone. No one there but some older women with bad dye jobs and worse pants and who "WOOOOOOO" when the D.J. plays The Commodores. I danced for a few songs (most of which were terrible but he did play "Pussy Control" by Prince, which I have a hard time not dancing to at any time...I'm groovin' right now as I think of it...), and then we call it a night and I head home. Sunday I went out with Nussell and some other people to play football. (No, I did not play...the world has not completely flipped on it's normalcy axis) I simply flew my kite and then read for a bit while they played. Then went to the mall, picked up some "dork glasses" for Nussell and went back to his place to shave his head. Which we did, and took pictures. I'll post them when I get a hold of some. It's odd...he looks like a totally different person...and he's getting excited about looking more intimidating. Which I must admit he does. Anyway, finished that up, then went out to dinner with him and N. (Don't know her well enough to put her name up here either...so it's just N. for the time being.) Talked briefly about [The Girl From the Party] since she is very good friends with her. (These code names are getting ridiculous.) In true Jr. High/tell your friend that I like 'em/check this box [Yes] [No] [Maybe] fashion, I let it be known that I was still interested, and that I'd really like to know more about who she actually is. Also, I realize that she hasn't a clue who I am either. I've resolutely assured my pained ego that this is the only reason she isn't calling me back. =] Oh, and I further qualify this by requesting that she and I be outside the influence of alcohol as we're finding out who we are. (I don't think that's a lot of ground rules really...do you?) Anyway, dinner at the "Rucky Virrage China Buffet" was not so good...after which I hung out at Nussell zhe Greazy Voolburglah's house for a bit longer...then went home and to bed after chatting with D. for a couple of hours. Yesterday was officey stuff, then went to Clear Lake to hang with Luis and go to a kiteboarding shop for zhe infoh-mation. Basically explaining where I was with my training kite and seeing when I could come back for a couple of training classes...and pricing a real kite. If anyone is interested, here's my kite, and here's my board to be. Yeah, they match...so? I'm a fashion major. You wanna make something of it? And today is more officey officey. Speaking of which, I gotta run. j.s |
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Monday, February 23, 2004
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I can't believe none of you played this game...why do I bother? j.s. |
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The Hearing Impaired, The Bushie, and Pure and Simple Censorship I am seriously beginning to wonder how that administration can pull these kinds of things off with nary a peep of media attention at all... That's some damn fine Watchdoggin' fellas...good to see your role in our democracy has been priced, tagged, scanned and sold. Excellent work. If you're interested (and you SHOULD be, since God only knows where their little red, white and blue eraser will begin to rub next), Here's the list of who made the cut and who was deemed unfit for closed captioning. NAD in Action How dare you go after Sanford & Son...you loathsome heartless bastards... j.s |
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Back by popular demand...everyone feel better? I think I do. And far be it for me to dispel your sense of Meaty solidarity... =] j.s. |
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Saturday, February 14, 2004
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And the VD post. < |
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Friday!!!
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Thursday!!! =] j.s. |
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Wednesday!
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Tuesday!
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Thursday, February 05, 2004
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Okee, Lessee...what happened this week? Erm, nothing. Did Gram's b-day at P.F. Changs on Monday, Cerdo de la Tierra Day. (Yeah, it's close enough.) Little bugger saw his shadow though, so it would appear that we're in for 6 more weeks of 65 degree weather here. *grins at the northern peeps* Groundhog Day also seems to coincide with "Ex-Girlfriend Call Jeremiah Day," as I received phone calls from 3 differing ex-es on Monday. Coincidence? Or sinister "drunken dialing" plot by that nefarious Cerdo Diablo de la Tierra? I'll let you decide. All of them seem to be doing well though...fine, fine. There's one in particular who it seems has recently broken up with her fiancee. *crosses arms and points nose in the air* Hmmph. Too late... I think. So Tuesday I hung out for a bit at Russell's place and then hit the gym and went home. Made tabouli and watched Breakfast at Tiffany's until I fell asleep on the couch. Yesterday we went to Brasil after work for some coffee and conversation for a couple of hours. Then I dropped him off and headed home...leaving my tab (and hence my credit card) open at Brasil. Thankfully I remembered before I got home and, cursing my own name, I drove back down Westheimer in the pouring rain to retrieve it and pay my tab. Hmmm...and I just remembered this.... When I got ready for bed, I was struck by an overwhelming wave of sadness and loneliness. A feeling like everything that I'd done up to this point, and been so proud of (i.e. living alone in my nicest apartment to date, working a steady job, writing more often than ever, being generally much more socially active and personable, being almost freed from the desire to smoke...), was pointless and empty. It was crushing. I've since shaken most of it off, and I attribute it to picking up residual emotions from someone else... But I suppose even Leos have moments of doubt. Thankfully they're light years apart from one another, because I don't think I could handle very many. They have a serious tarnishing effect on my aura of bravado. And that...we just can't have. =] I'm planning on hitting the gym again today, barring any strange incident that keeps me from it...and I'm really feeling a low-key weekend after the last ones' debauchery. Oh, and I deleted the girl from the other weekend from my cell. (You know, the one from the party, the one with a penchant for appointments and neck mangling?) I tried to call her last Tuesday, and then once again this past Tuesday to go out. Answering machine both times. I'm done. Which is sad actually since she seemed kinda interesting... *shrug* Oh well. j.s. |
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Tuesday, February 03, 2004
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Here's yet another Meaty Endorsement. I believe you all should give a listen to the newer Stars album, "Heart." It's very, very beautiful....pop hooks, synthesizers and heartstrings... Here's their website. I'm still not feeling all that well and I've a ton of things to do, so that's all for now. Take care, j.s. |
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Monday, February 02, 2004
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How I spent my SuperBowl or Dean's, De-tox, and Dementia I was, quite possibly, the most hungover man in the universe yesterday...so much so that the hangover has barrelled into today like a gusty, headachey wind. I don't know what that means...but I can say that it's quite dizzying, tight, nauseating and generally uncomfortable. I'm trying to remember what happened this weekend, and I'm having a hard time putting it into words here, not because I don't want to, but because it seems so far away already. I shall endeavor however...and you can expect several updates to this post as I start to remember the fuzzy bits..do not, however, expect much in the way of cleverness, as I'm not sure I have it in me right now. Okay, Friday. Luis and I went downtown to Main St., along with the rest of the known world. We walked from my house, as I knew better than to attempt driving down there, stopping off at the Coors Light kiosk for a quick drink along the way. We start at "Clark's," a "temp bar" attached to Dean's created simply to provide the nameless and uncool with drinks in Times of Superbowl. Clark's was and utter yawner...so I flag down the busboy, and ask if we can pass through the connecting door to Dean's instead...he says "Sure!" and we head over. This was apparently not kosher, as shortly after we went through they posted someone at the common door between the two bars to keep other presumptious folk from upgrading their bar status for free. (Dean's was charging a $20 cover.) We're in though, and with a little finagling from Chris (the very cool Dean's doorman I've mentioned several times on this blog), I even go back through and pick up my credit card from Clark's and am allowed back into Dean's without charge, as is Luis, who also leaves the bar. (Under the false assumption that I was going to get my credit card and wander around downtown.) So, both of us back in Dean's and happily sitting at a table near the door, gin & tonics ensue...and things start to get blurry at the edges. I do recall lending my jacket to a shivering young girl who related her tale of woe about attending Beyonce's party and not seeing Beyonce. A tale worthy of Sylvia Plath's sympathy to be sure. We chatted with her and her friends for awhile, drank more gin & tonics, and then split a bottle of wine. Dean's becomes ridiculously crowded and Foster (another doorman) has his hands full with either allowing suitably attired folk in, or asking them to leave. (He forcefully ejected a guy on rollerblades at one point...which begs the question, how was he allowed in with the rollerblades on in the first place? A mystery.) I don't recall much after the rollerblade guy unfortunately...I know Russell and Melissa showed up at one point and decided against coming in....but that's about it. I remember nothing about the walk home. The closest memory I can conjure is being in my living room and mentally trying to keep the TV still enough to watch Pirates of the Caribbean. I gave up at around 3:30, and went to bed. Perhaps Luis remembers more than I and would like to add his 2 cents in the comments section...=] Saturday I got up around 10:30, showered, and found Luis gone by the time I got out of the bathroom. So I did my breakfast thing at Fountainview Cafe with J.T. and Russell, then went home to recover and play a little Madden. Around 2:30, Mom called and said that she and her crew were already out downtown and over at the Limelight. So I clean myself up a bit, and amble over, still not feeling all that great. For posterity, I arrived at about 3:30 in the afternoon. Red Bull and Citron begins to flow like water, and after about an hour my hangover has miraculously disappeared. I take this as a divine gift, and decide to drink 5 or 6 more in celebration. 10 Red Bull and vodkas later, we're heading downtown to Dean's again. Along the way I bumped into an old girlfriend from High School that I'd seen earlier in the month at Kristin's B-Day party at Sam's. At the time she was on a first date, so I couldn't get her number to possibly go out with her and catch up. No such obstacle was in sight this time. So I get her number, she asks if I can get her into Dean's, I nod, she says to call her in a few and she'll head over. I promptly forget to call her until much later, and can't hear a thing she said...that is, if she answered at all. Hmmm...if she didn't she'll have had quite the amusing voicemail come Sunday of a drunken idiot holding a one-sided conversation with her voicemail. Awesome. So we all head down the street to Dean's, the requisite $20 a head is paid for all 7 of us, and we head inside, nabbing a table after about 30 minutes or so. It is at this point that Saturday night becomes much like Friday, a blur of drinks, dancing, and general debauchery. The main difference was the astounding amount of flirting that happened. Which is typically not "me" at all, but it ended up being quite fun on this occasion. I know that at one point either a short girl or a tall pygmy had her hands in...delicate areas on me and was exclaiming how "fucking hot" I am. (No, she wasn't that girl.) I won't post her name here, even if I could remember it, but she seemed quite nice and she and her friend were...erm...very friendly. J.T. and Kristin and a friend of theirs showed up around 10:30 or so, and I was rapidly approaching a drink count of 20... Hence I made the wise decision to do the club soda thing for the rest of the evening so as to avoid ruining a wonderful night out by ending it regurgitating on a bathroom floor somewhere. Blur, blur blur...Carlton from "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" shows up, blur, blur, blur...someone from The Bachelorette arrives...blur, blur, blur... I do remember a couple of cute girls by the bar drooling over the guys in the Gucci 2003 winter show that was being projected on the wall. And, in an ironical twist, which seem to happen to me quite often, one of them leans over to me and says, "You know, if you men only knew what dressing well and understanding fashion does to us women...oooo....you'd all pay more attention to how you look." I tilt my head at her, smile, rest my palm on the side of her face, look right into her eyes and say, "you're probably right." She smiles back, looks me up and down and says that I am, in fact, dressed quite nicely, and hey, that's a really nice sweater, where did you get it? "Giorgio Armani. Las Vegas." I kiss her on the cheek, and walk away. And it continued in that vein most of the night, meeting random people, all of them having something odd or interesting or coquettishly wanton to say, until around quarter of 3, when I decided I'd had enough and wanted to go home. Some people there decided to come along with me and crash at my apartment, so off we went. Everyone else went back to the Limelight I believe. And it is there that I'll leave you again...until Sunday. Woke up ludicrously hungover and sickly...everyone that crashed at my place arranged cabs for themselves, so thankfully I didn't have to drive anyone back into downtown to retrieve their cars. I headed over to Jillian's around 1 or so to meet back up with Mom and her troupe of people to watch the Superbowl...but Jillian's was just too much for me to take hungover, what with the flashing lights, video games and loud, shrill bell noises. So I took off and went out to Katy to hang at Bernie and Katie's superbowl party. I called Russell, told him I was on my way and that I'd call him back when I got closer for directions. I call when I'm closer. No answer. I call Melissa. No answer. So there I sat. For nearly 30 minutes at a Stop & Go on Mason Road, confused, hungover, and pulsing a psychic beacon for help...which was apparently heard by Russell. He decides he needs smokes. So he borrows a car and drives out to pick some up...he passes a no-name convenience store, and decides that, for some reason, he doesn't want to go in there. Then he spies a Stop & Go ahead on the right. He pulls up next to a black Eclipse with someone sitting in the driver's seat, looking like they might be kinda confused, and hungover and just might need directions. Isn't life awesome sometimes? The party was good. I dig hanging out with Bernie, he's a really, really funny guy. I couldn't bring myself to drink anything...and was therefore one of the few people who drove home completely sober after the Superbowl...nervewracking. Crashed hard as soon as I got home and slept for nearly 10 hours before getting up and going into work today. So there you go, my account of Superbowl weekend. I haven't a clue if it's going to make any sense to you, I haven't gone back and re-read or edited any of this...but if you're confused by it now I assure you it pales in comparison to how I feel about it. Ugh. I'm going to get some Gatorade and some asprin...take care. j.s. |
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Sunday, February 01, 2004
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Nnngghhh... j.s. |
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