The Meaty Efreeti

Monday, February 28, 2005

Hi. The weekend was bananas...and I can't decide if it was so in a good or a bad way. Friday I just did dinner with my grandmother and hung about the house. Saturday I spent most of the day running from party store to craft store on a hunt for suitable centerpieces for said grandmother's 70's birthday party. Then dropped by a party at KFH's house before ending the night with J.T. and Kristin at Fumducks...a dive bar near their house. Sunday was Gram's B-day party at Mr. C's until 4ish, then went out to Katy for Dad's B-day gathering until around 8, then came home and watched the Oscars. I, of course, have tons of things to say about the show, but I was a Mr. Clever Dick this morning and left my notebook full of scribbled notes at home. Hey, I'm sick. Give me a break. I'll make some time this evening to write about it. Also today is Sans Smokies: Day One and I'm juicing that damn patch on my shoulder for everything it's worth. I can't decide if having a vicious sore throat is helping or hurting my efforts to quit. K, I'm going to just melt into my chair for the next 5 hours or so. Talk to you later. j.s.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

I can't remember if I posted this or not...

Regardless, HERE is something to help make your weekend just a little more beautiful.

Unfortunately I can't find a direct link to the video anywhere.
So, when the page opens, mouse over the "Navigation" button, then click on the "Album" box, then click the little TV icon for "Ageless Beauty."

It's a little work, but it's worth it.

Um...ahem...and I have a minor thing for Amy, their vocalist, too.

*Jeremiah looks down and awkwardly shuffles his feet*

So?

j.s.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

The Meaty, Gizoogled.

Hi.

Took the day off yesterday as I was feeling a little under the weather.

However I did nothing of the "rest and recuperate" sort, opting instead to completely change the layout of my apartment around.

And, on the bright side, I can say it looks much, much better in there now
However as a result, I don't feel much better today.

I'm not feeling worse either though, so I'm just kinda riding along with the sickly-status-quo and hoping I have burly macrophages floating around in me somewhere.

And now I must get to work procuring decorations for my grandmother's septuagenarian celebration.

Talk to you later.

j.s.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Thanks, whoever you are, for breaking into my car and dumping the contents of my glovebox onto my seat.

You see, I have an excess of cash in my bank account, with absolutely nothing to spend it on, so I'm thrilled about having to spend $400 to replace the passenger-side window that you sliced open last night...all while the driver's side door was unlocked.
I appreciate the warm-hearted welcome to my new neighborhood.

Please die now, violently.

j.s.

Monday, February 21, 2005

So I guess I'll recap a bit of the weekend.

Friday night started with a trip to see Constantine. And, despite his best efforts, Keanu Reeves couldn't cock up the entire film. It borrowed just enough from the comics (Dangerous Habits primarily), to lend gravity to fans of Hellblazer, but not so much as to piss me off when they changed the ending around.

At its worst it was trite, at its best it was Hollywood diversionary fun. As such I cannot with good conscience recommend it.
But I can't advise you to stay away either, if you'd planned on going.

After the movie I headed directly to Red Lion for N.'s b-day gathering, which was a good time. After several Bass pints, and the strange early departure of [TGFTP] (did you think I'd not mention that? =] ), we decide that the night is not finished and head over to Resurrection for apres-2:00 drinks. Surprisingly good time there as well, that is until T.A.B.C. (for the unitiated that's the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission), arrived on a raid, shut the club down and promptly threw everyone out at around 5 am.
So the last of the late night stragglers went back to my place, had a couple more drinks, I received myriad suggestions as to the interior design of my apartment, and then I sent them all home and fell asleep at around 6.

Saturday I slept the majority of the day, then went to the Aeros game with Dad, Cary and D. for 3 hours of completely uninspired hockey. Not to mention the entire row in front of us was taken up by a family packing gunnysacks of toys, sandwiches, juice boxes, bagels w/ cream cheese, baby food, alternate clothing, and even a DVD player.
A DVD player.
At a fucking hockey game.
So...um...I have a question.
Why did you even bother paying to come in again?
I mean, if you weren't going to actually watch the game, you most certainly could've put on "Tarzan II: Cro-Magnon WASP's Revenge" at home for free.
I don't get it.
Their shenanigans also prompted debate as to the proper time and place to breastfeed a child. We came to the decision that in your seat, in front of an entire stadium of people, is in fact an incorrect place.
And, while it's not full-on in the Land of Exhibitionism, it can certainly see it without a telescope.

Post-hockey we hung out at Dad's place for a bit, then I went home and crashed early.

Sunday I did some minor house cleaning in preparation for the remainder of my Baltimorean belongings to arrive. (Which they did, today.) Then D. came by and we went to 11th St. Cafe for dinner before heading over to see Modest Mouse.

Okay, here's the thing about that show.
I dug the music, and surprisingly I liked the songs that I hadn't heard before (from their earlier albums apparently), more than the ones I had.
But alas, I was reminded of why it is I absolutely despise larger shows.
So I've prepared a list.

1. I paid $9.00 for a Shiner Bock billed as an "import."
Ahem, Shiner Bock comes from Shiner, Texas.
Explain that one to me.

2. We saw the show at the "Verizon Wireless Theater." Which is not only a ClearChannel venue, it also has a cellular phone kiosk where you can conveniently purchase a new phone while you're paying $25 for a band t-shirt.
It's right there next to the signed Sigur-Ros poster.
Yes, really.

3. Though I love that the musical tastes of children are improving, I truly dislike being the oldest guy at these things.

4. For many reasons, I'm not a fan of the "it's a slow song, so hold up a lighter" thing. The most important of which is that I'm taller than the majority of the girls there who do this kind of thing, and that lighter ends up at a blinding (and dangerous) eye level.

5. People who sing throughout the entire show irk the shit out of me. I think I've mentioned this before, but it bears mention again.
I DID NOT COME HERE TO FUCKING HEAR YOU SING!
I came to hear the band sing.
Now I'm all about the occasional yelling of lyrics back at the band, you're excited, you love the song, I get it.
But when you're singing every line, from every single song, in an effort to let the people in your general vicinity know that you have heard and memorized each and every word... (Don't you fucking lie.)
Well that's not only asinine, it's embarrassing.
Just stop for a moment and listen to the band sing those songs. You'll be pleasantly surprised. I promise. After all, you did pay to hear them. You could've sang along with the CD player in your car and gotten basically the same benefit as seeing them live.
(Which reminds me of a very Houstonian moment that made me smile. During "Bukowski" the chorus of those around me went something like "gabba nlara be...mabba nara be...SUCH AN ASSHOLE!")

6. Also, people that scream the song they want to hear at the band. And this one actually goes out to the guy next to me that kept yelling "Trailer Trash! Trailer Trash! Play it you fuckers!" at the top of his lungs during the (relative) silence between each of the band's songs.
Listen Quincy J., they DO have a set list.
And your input falls only upon the irritated ears of the people standing in your immediate vicinty. Stop, please.

7. Crowd-surfing from the back toward the front of the stage is one of the easiest ways to break something and get the shit beaten out of you as a bonus.
Common sense reigns here.
If people can't see you coming, they're not going to be able to hold you up, so you're going to fall. And you're going to get the added bonus of cracking these unassuming folk in the back of the head before you do so.
Now, I'm all for the crowd surfing if you're into that sorta thing...God knows I did my fair share. But you gotta start from the front kids.
The life you save may be your own...
Not that I really care, I really just don't want to take a shot to the back of the neck.

8. Smoking the pot during the show is an undesirable for me, but I recognize it as an oft-occurring phenomenon.
Fine. Whatever.
But please, don't blow the smoke directly at me, just exhale upward k? Otherwise I end up leaving the show with Snoopstink, and I have been completely freaked out by strange people blowing in my ear.

9. Keep your goddamn girlfriend off your shoulders. You must move backward if she can't see. It's just that simple.
This is never open to negotiation.

10. Move to where you want to watch the show PRIOR to the hitting of the band's first note. The mass push toward the stage once the band starts playing smacks of poor geographical planning and fratboy, ego-centric violence.

I could honestly go on and on here, but I think that's enough ranting.
It's starting to chafe.
Despite all of this, the music at the show was good. And Modest Mouse are definitely a very talented group of guys.

K, fingers = tired.
I'll talk more later.

j.s.

Hunter S. Thompson Dies at 67
'Fear and Loathing' Writer Apparently Committed Suicide

By Martin Weil and Allan Lengel
Washington Post Staff Writers
Monday, February 21, 2005; Page A04

Hunter S. Thompson, whose life and writing, vivid and quirky
reflections of each other, made him one of the principal symbols of
the American counterculture, shot and killed himself yesterday at his
home near Aspen.

Thompson, 67, was celebrated as a practitioner of an outraged form of
personal journalism, offering off-beat ideas and observations in a
style that was wildly and vividly his own and that brought him
cult-like status and widespread recognition.

His books on politics and society were regarded as groundbreaking
among journalists and other students of current affairs in their
irreverence and often angry insights.

Among those for which he was famed are "Fear and Loathing in Las
Vegas" and "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail." He rode for
almost a year with the Hell's Angels motorcycle outfit for research on
another book. In all he wrote at least a dozen.

Jonathan Yardley, writing last year in The Washington Post, called him
"a genuinely unique figure in American journalism," citing his comic
writing and social criticism.

Thompson, often seen wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap and with a
cigarette dangling from his lips, showed up frequently as Uncle Duke
in "Doonesbury," the Garry Trudeau comic strip.

Part of what created his image of outlaw independence and defiance of
norms and conventions was his claim to intimate familiarity with a
variety of drugs and mind altering chemicals.

"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence or insanity to anyone . .
. but they've always worked for me," he once wrote.

Pitkin County, Colo., Sheriff Bob Braudis said in a brief telephone
interview that Thompson was alone in his kitchen of his Woody Creek
home when he shot himself with a handgun. His wife was at a gym,
Braudis said.

The sheriff said Thompson had seemed "still on top of his game."

But Braudis's wife, Louisa Davidson, said "he was not going to age
gracefully, he was going to go out with a bang. He was tormented."

Thompson was known for a style that he described as "gonzo
journalism," a form of "new journalism." It was based on the idea that
fidelity to fact did not always blaze the way to truth.

Instead, "gonzo journalism" and its practitioners suggested that a
deeper truth could be found in the ambiguous zones between fact and
fiction.

"Objective journalism is one of the main reasons that American
politics has been allowed to be so corrupt for so long," Thompson told
interviewers in a characteristic pronouncement on both institutions.

"You can't be objective about Nixon," he said. "How can you be
objective about Clinton?"

Among the writers and works he cited as major influences were most of
the classic American authors, including Mark Twain and Ernest
Hemingway, many or most read early in life. He also named the Biblical
book of Revelation.

He was born in Louisville, and after a wild youth entered the Air
Force, according to one account, as part of a parole agreement.

His writing career is traced to the 1950s, when he contributed to a
base newspaper while in the Air Force.

He later wrote unpublished fiction, reported for the mainstream media
from Latin America, and made his name with his Hell's Angels article
in Harper's magazine.

His star rose while he worked for Rolling Stone magazine, where the
"Fear and Loathing" books first appeared.

His beat, he once said was "the death of the American dream."
Interviewers later suggested to him that he in a way embodied that
dream. They said he exploded in profanity, but conceded that perhaps
he did.

----

This makes me incredibly sad.
I was a fan, not necessarily of all of his writing, but of the very existence of H.S.T. The world was stranger, more surreal and simply better with him in it.

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die."
-Hunter S. Thompson, Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas-

j.s.

p.s. Pete: I posted that quote before I saw your site today. I guess great minds do think alike. =]

Friday, February 18, 2005

So, I'm worried I might be going soft.

The strange & self-destructive desire to implode my life at random intervals, the dropping of everything with a semblance of stability, the jumping into my car one rainy night and careening across the country with my entire life packed in the back...

It feels like it's starting to fade.

This is not to say that it won't ever happen again of course, but it feels distant somehow. Like things I watched someone else do in an old movie.
My character-defining crests and troughs have settled into rolling swells, and I honestly couldn't tell you if I like that or not.

It's a huge paradigm shift from where I was just a few years ago. Being ready to leave wherever I was at a moment's notice and run off somewhere I'd never been, just to see if I could pull it off.

Riding along the thin line between shining brightly and burning up...

I can say this though, it's much more difficult, for me anyway, to live this way.
There's a lot of time to choose small direction changes when it isn't taking everything you have just to hang on.
And sweating the little things isn't something I excel at, so I end up skipping them and instead save my energy and focus for the big crashes...

Which haven't come, since I'm living a steadier life.

This has all probably come out quite circumlocutory, but it's par for the course I suppose since it's an odd, convoluted thing to attempt to measure the bathymetry of my head.

I think I'll stop now and go have a drink.

j.s.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Hi there,

I wax logorrheic for a week and suddenly a skipped day seems like bloggy slackin'.
Bloggy slackin'.
Say it out loud with me one time and try not to smile.
Bloggy slackin'.
Wheee!

So there's not a whole lot going on really.
I may have to fly to West Virginia to do some work at a hospital next week, which will suck in gross.
**packs banjo repellent**

I'm also working on getting signed up to take my MCSA courses later this month, which should be good, though slightly taxing. I wonder just how difficult it's going to be...considering the slackjawed troggs that wander about with Microsoft certification.
Although the same can be said about bachelor's degrees I suppose...

Lessee...oh!
And I've just created a softball team here at work that starts playing March 21st. So you're all welcome to come out, drink warm beer from a plastic cup, swat at mosquitos, and watch your PSC Protons get the cork knocked outta 'em every Monday at Papa Blakely's.
Good times...good times. =]

Okay, I've got a bunch of stuff to take care of here, so I'm going to get back to it.

Talk to you later.

j.s.

Monday, February 14, 2005

.

j.s.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

So, is it ingrateful for me to be sick of being called "pretty?"

Because, although I'm qute thankful that people think I'm attractive and choose to tell me so, I do wish they'd come up with a better adjective. =/

j.s.

Friday, February 11, 2005

Oh, and for those who are interested...Jared Hess (director of Napoleon Dynamite) directed Postal Service's new video for We Will Become Silhouettes. And it was filmed in...why Utah of course.

These sorts of things make me happy. =]
La Papita seems to like it too.

And THIS gave me a giggle or two.

[Thanks Pete]

And last, I liked THIS immensely.
And I think it speaks volumes about not only the love that Henson put into creating Muppets, but also nods at the current sale and corporatizing of his gift to children everywhere. But admittedly, that could just be my own snarky opinion.
Watch it yourself and decide.

j.s.

Hey.

So, I did not end up sitting at home playing WoW until 2 in the morning.

D. and I went to see Mates of State instead. Although we narrowly missed tragedy since I believed the show to be at Fat Cat's, when in actuality it was at Engine Room.

Thankfully [TGFTP] called while we were on our way to F.C's and informed us that the show was instead at E.R. (~That's acronymic prowess sucka~)
All thanks be to her, we made it in time to see The Aquaducts play a cover of "Damn it Feels Good to Be a Gangster" which was, quite funny. Otherwise they were unremarkable. Just "okay."

Zyklos...no, I'd rather not talk about Zyklos.
Okay I will.
Their frontman was such the primadonna that the whole band irked me something fierce.
I really hate bands that bitch about their sound, and this guy was obsessively asking for his guitar/microphone to be raised or lowered in volume.
By the 2nd to last song he'd proclaimed they'd "finally got it [the sound] right" yet when their set was over he tossed his guitar on the ground in mock disgust, then bent down and gave it a little shove to show he was serious.
Comic.
Listen Lil' Petey Townshend, when you're selling out a show that you are headlining, you'll get to have a better sound check and people will pay more attention to your ranting and requests for audio-alterations.
But right now you're just a band from Austin that happened to catch a break by opening for a national act...in Houston.
So act like it.
Smile pretty and work with what you've got. And certainly don't throw a tantrum (albeit a half-assed one since you didn't want to hurt your guitar), at the end of your set.
Besides, your band sounded better when I couldn't hear you.

Then, Mates of State came on and all was forgiven, if not forgotten.

This was the 2nd time I'd seen them (the first time they opened for Rainer Maria), but that show was 2 days before I was leaving Utah to drive back to Houston, so I was in a much better frame of mind this time around.
And they didn't disappoint.
Opened with "HaHa" (I think), and closed with "Proofs," which is still my favorite MoS song.
Good show, and I got to pick up "My Solo Project" on vinyl while I was there. =]

In fact, the only question I had about their set was...the audience.

Specifically, exactly why everyone in the audience was so somber.

I mean, Mates of State isn't the kind of band you lean in and ponder and scratch your temples about. And it most certainly isn't the kind of music that you can act hard while listening to it.
It's pop.
It's happy.
It's moogy.
Often goofy.
But it seemed that almost everyone there was taking it very, very seriously.
Which was the biggest difference in the Houston show and the SLC one that I noticed, aside from them having an entire new album to work from of course. =]
Lots more jaded and angry peeps here.
Those crazy kids in Utah just danced and spun and whooped happily, like Comanches on crank, for their entire set.
So it was kinda surreal to see such a large mob of people, listening to that same music, and standing completely still.
Not even a head bob.

*shrug*

Regardless, it was good. Go see 'em if you're so inclined.
But for God's sake, at least move around a little when you watch 'em.

j.s.

"Son, you ain't ever gonna get laid standin' aroun' like that. Ya got 'ta mooove them hips boy. Elvis is everywhere; he's even in you."

--Mojo Nixon onstage reverse-heckling a friend of mine for not dancing during his show--
[And no, I'm not going to go into what it was he said to me next.]

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Hah-lo.

Thursday huh? Hmmph.

Here's what I'd really like to be doing tonight: Going to Fat Cat's, having a couple of beers and seeing Mates of State. (That's their video, and yes, I know you don't want to come.)

Here's what I'd really dislike doing tonight: Sitting at home playing WoW until 2 in the morning.

Here's what I'll probably end up doing tonight: Sitting at home playing WoW until 2 in the morning.

Sigh.

I just had to take da Jeep into the dealership to be looked at.
Turns out, my gas cap wasn't screwed in tightly enough, and that skewed the data from the Jeep's internal vapor emission sensor. (A little "feature" the loveRly folk at the E.P.A. apparently require in my car.)
This, in turn, prompted an electromagnetic radiational response on my dashboard in the shape of a little yellow engine.
And, as those of you who know me understand, I have very little tolerance for uncalled for HUD illumination.
(Opal the Car notwithstanding, her gauge screen looked like a Mexican disco.)

In other news, it seems I'm going to have an extra ticket to Les Miserables on March 4th.
Which in turn means I'll probably be treating just myself to an evening of Irish beer/Italian food at Birra Poretti's, an aperitif of 19th century Parisian Romanticism, and will drown the ensuing Hugonian depression in a bottle of Monsanto Chianti at Dean's.

Mark it on your calendars...don't call Jeremiah that night. =|

j.s.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Oh, and that happy girl at the top of the screen?

Her name is Papita.
She's dancing because I finally received my Piebald CD in the mail today.
Actually, the CD in question is a replacement for the one that was stolen out of my Jeep 4 months ago by someone who will not only garner zero enjoyment from the CD's they boosted from me, but will also undoubtedly suffer karmic retribution at the grinding hands of a old rusted steam thresher on a rainy (and therefore slippery) day.

I had to order the damn thing off eBay because it's out of print.

And next, set about replacing The Sugarcubes "Stick Around for Joy."
grrrrrr....

Regardless, Piebald sure seem to make La Papita happy don't they?

j.s.

"Andy went back to school...he got sick...of Newbury Comics."
(I really missed this CD.)

Mornin' and happy Rapidly Oxidized Carbon Byproduct Hump Day.

So, for Lent this year I am giving up...
Cheese.
All cheese.
No grilled cheese, no pizza, no Lean Pockets, no fat-free mozzarella on my Turkey/Sprout sandwich from Jason's Deli...
Nada con queso.

It'll be interesting.

It's the first in a many-part plan to be slightly healthier by the time I hit 30 in August.
Which in essence means I will be insured (already sent off my application for BCBS:TX today), sans-smokies, rock climbing at least once a week, hitting the gym 3 times a week, and some yoga/kiteboarding/surfing thrown in here and there for good measure.

I think I've asked enough of my body during the tenure of just being me for the last 29 years. Pushing my luck from here on out is probably a bad idea.

j.s.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

So, the weekend.

Friday our first stop was Davenport...which is one of the darkest bars I've ever been in...next to Marfrela's of course. =]
Not a bad place mind you, just dark. And pretty crowded.
It definitely makes the list of potentials on a Friday night, but we ended up sitting there talking about all the things that make The Belv great that The Dav didn't have.

So, after a brief fly-by of another club called "Indigo" (which looked way too ghetto to even give it a shot), we went over to Absinthe and finished up the night at Late Night Pie.

Saturday I did very little. Just hung around the house, began working out some new mixes, and played a little WoW.

SB Sunday, I'd decided to spend in the main house, getting to know my neighbors. Interesting folk they.
Luis dropped by and we went over to Onion Creek...which had, by Houston standards, an excellent soundtrack playing. (Jon Spencer Blues Explosion segued into Ladytron.)
And they have $2 Red Stripe on Thursday.
AND I can walk there.
Making Onion Creek the best stop of the weekend...even though there was no one really there...despite my post-Superbowl prognostications.

Got home around midnight, Luis took off, and as I'm getting ready to go to sleep I hear a knock at the door.
My neighbor.
She needs me to watch the house while she drives her friend home, b/c her daughter is asleep upstairs.

"Er...how about you stay here with your daughter, and I drive your friend home?"
"Better idea. I love you! You're so the bomb!"
"Right. Right. The bomb is me. Lemme just get my shoes."

I guess that sounds like I was sorely inconvenienced by this exchange, but, in actuality, I really didn't mind at all.

I've the milk of human kindess by the fucking gallon you see.

And now I'm wrangling with the server over some connectivity issues with folks' printers...and am waiting on a callback from Dell...so I'm going to get back to it.

Take care,

j.s.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Hi there.

End-of-Monthiness @ work is finished. And I'm mentally prepping my liver for a weekend of bar-searching. Short list is The Davenport, Europa, 410, Onion Creek, and possibly The Social on Sunday. (Apres SuperBowl of course.)
No doubt I'll have plenty to say about each of them on Monday.

In other news, this new found vinyl habit is becoming 'spensive.
I picked up DCfC's "The Photo Album" and a "cover" of "Seven Nation Army" by The Flaming Lips last night, Ratatat and Postal Service LP's were waiting on me when I got to work today, and RJD2's "Since We Last Spoke," Postal Service's new release of "We Will Become Silhouettes," and The Mars Volta's new album "Francis the Mute" are on the way.

Methinks that's enough for a couple weeks.
Although...

8r00k3 and/or +1mm3r5!
If either of you happen across a vinyl copy of "Ambassadors of Style" in your Baltimorean wayfaring, there is a gentleman in Houston who would gladly send you loads of cash, oil, coke and whores for a copy. =]

And in closing, I guess I just don't understand these kids today.

I mean, that's horrifying.

j.s.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

As many of you know, I hold the "online quiz" to be in the same camp as reality television, Clear Channel music aficionados, and the NBA.
Harmless, but irritating.
Hence, I never actually do the numerous "what's your favorite microwavable product?" quizzes I receive in my email three or four times a week.
However, this little meme, liberated from Pete this morning, looked interesting, so I'm playing along.

-----

15 years ago today I would have been...
- Wandering the halls of Katy High School in Katy, TX. Z Cavaricci "wing" pants, tab collar and bolo. Hair sprayed vertically, and within an inch of its life. Probably working out dance routines with Ryan in his living room for the KHS Valentine's Day dance, and videotaping them.

10 years ago today I would have been...
Right at the apogee of my "fuzzy years." I was in my apartment with Chris ("Tree") Trecarten, doing ludicrous amounts of illicit substances and hanging out/sleeping with Stacy, Elaine, Julie and Amy at their apartment. Within the next 10 days I would beg to be sent back to Baltimore to get off said substances, and would be gone by the end of the month.

5 years ago today I would have been...
In Logan, Utah, going to Utah State and starting my first semester in my Apparel major. Also the first semester I decided to become serious about my education, and made the first 4.0 of my collegiate career, while taking 17.5 credits.
I'd be getting ready to go to NYC for a one credit Spring Break "study period," and I'd be spending ludicrous amounts of money calling Yvonne every night on my cell phone.

1 year ago today I would have been...
Working at PSC. Living in my apartment downtown. Hanging out at Russell's apartment. And going to Dean's/Belvedere nearly every weekend. I'd also just met N. and [TGFTP].

This year I am...
Living in the Heights. Still working at PSC. Starting to pick my record collection back up and spin. Ceasing all Belvederic activity. Going to Europe this summer. Spending ludicrous amounts of money calling Jenny on my cell phone.

Yesterday I...
Worked until around midnight, with a break to have Pappasito's with D. Went home and watched the end of "Sweet Home Alabama" on Cinemax. (I really needed something mindless in order to decompress from the phones at work being down all day.)

Today I...
Am once again at work, and taking a break from end-of-month staccato-tapping on my computers' numpad. After work I think I will go to Ikea and purchase a bookcase or two. Later tonight I'll continue the unpacking of my clothes.

Tomorrow I will...
Go to work. After which I'll go to dinner with my Grandmother (her 70th b-day was yesterday), then set about the task of shopping for a new bar this weekend. I will be in bed by no later than 2:30 AM.
Really.

j.s.