The Meaty Efreeti

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

It would appear that, in my revelry last week, I destroyed every single white blood cell in my body. The end result of this leuko-cide is a painful concoction of hellfire and brim-mucus that has taken up residence in one or more of the concentric layers of my throat. And this is so not the week that I can get sick. I've way too much to do. So I've been drinking gallons of juice, sleeping as much as possible, and freebasing NyQuil. I've also been eating vitamins like Skittles, however they've done very little aside from turn my urine a lovely shade of riboflavin...which, while probably not helpful per se, is certainly entertaining. Right. Okay, I'm going back to bed. Sets playlist to "Damien Rice" on repeat and pulls up the covers j.s.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Hi.

So I've shuffled off the rusty anchor chains of the H.M.S. Hangover, and am starting to become capable of more than just the most simple of thoughts.
(ex: "My head hurts." "That dog is barking." "I'm thirsty." "It's hot in here." "Seriously, enough with the barking" "I think I'm hungry." "Naptime." "Please God, kill that dog for me." )

By the end of the day I was getting concerned I might never fully recover from this mental handicap, and I'd be stuck in surface thoughts forever. (Let's call that "Surface Thought Tension.")

So, let's recap real quick for you.
The Weekend Extend-0-Rama version.

Wednesday -

Magazine party @ Next. Was a good time.
Not awesome...not sucky.
Just good.
Of course the free Grey Goose and Red Bulls helped push it into positive estimation in my book...
And it was cool to hang out with my editors outside of a writers' meeting, and talk to people who read my stuff and who actually recognize my name. (Okay, that part was really cool.)
All in all a decent night.
Home around 3.

Thursday -

Turk Day. Went to my Grandmother's house for awhile and did the typical Thanksgiving dinner thing. Then caught up with Rez and Kara at their place, which was exactly what I needed.
I showed up terribly hungover, but after hanging out in their garage, listening to some old Faith No More and talking randomness, I left in much brighter spirits. (Okay, the beer helped this emotional red shift, but it was mostly the company.)

Friday -

National Buy Nothing Day, owned.
No shopping of any kind.
Went to the hockey game with Dad, Cary and D instead, then hung out with D at his place until around 2.
Crashed on the couch.

Saturday -

This saw the St. Arnold's brewery party early in the evening, which was an excellent time and one I still owe a donation for attending...someone be sure to remind me of that.
Anyway, again with the good time.
Although this time it was the people, not the forum/booze, that made the event awesome.
Rampant himations, viking horns, Troggdor references, hipster music, interesting conversation, particularly cute girls, oh, and free beer.
I dig hanging out with those folk.
I could be swayed into doing it more often.

Afterward I ran home to change, then hit "Rent" at the Meridian. (The monthly event, not the movie/musical.) Not nearly as good a time, but still decent. Caught up with D and his friends there, danced until around 2 or so, then headed home.

I've no idea what happened on Sunday since I was dealing with the aforementioned pile driver of a hangover.

And now I'm tired, and I still have to go home, then go back to the office to drop off some paperwork.

Take care,

j.s.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Nghhh....
This has got to be one of the most brutal hangovers on record.

I'll fill you in on the events of last evening after the hurt fades a little...

j.s.

Friday, November 25, 2005

"Wax on, wax off."

So long Mr. Miyagi... =[

j.s.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

So, since this evening is looking like it'll be a bit out of hand, I wanted to drop in and give you the requisite "Happy T'giving" thing now.

To be honest, I don't believe I'll be any more thankful for the things I have tomorrow than I am any other day.
I'm amazed by life quite often you see, and am appreciative everytime something awesome happens to me. Hence I've always felt it a little strange that there's a special day to profess such gratitude.

From my parents, to my brother, the rest of my family, my friends (both here and absent), finding money I didn't know I had, how beautiful it is to drive around in the Jeep looking at Christmas lights on a cold night, the fact that someone thinks my writing is worthy of being published, my little apartment w/ an awesome landlady, my music, girls in scarves (*shivers*), the way a hot cup of coffee feels in your hands on a cold day, stoplights changing to green just as I drive up to them, Marshmallow Fluff (Fluff is the banana to the monkey of my soul), when my iPod picks an awesome set of music while set on "shuffle," that I'm a relatively healthy guy, remembering little things about people's lives and asking about them later (and when people care enough to do that to me), the strange twinge of awe/admiration/envy I get when I read something that someone else has written that's brilliant, that I know how to make tabouli, every sock monkey that has ever or will ever exist, listening to vinyl, thinking of how far I've come in the past few years and how I'm still fire-eyed with hope when I think of where I'm headed...

And most of all, that throughout the thirty years of my life, I've been afforded the opportunity to do exactly as I desired, whenever the whim arrived; and as such I've lived every single day as hard and as fully as I know how, without a single regret.

I'm always thankful for these things.
And while it's true that it isn't an an everyday occurrence that I consciously appreciate them, I'm comfortable saying that it's almost everyday.

It certainly isn't once-a-year.

Anyway, have an awesome Thanksgiving.
Tell your families I said "hi," and that I miss them. (If applicable.)

And take care,

*waves*

j.s.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Have you people any idea how difficult is it to find a decent +1 these days?
Seriously.

I mention this because I'm invited +3 to my magazine's monthly release party - an event that last month ended up costing folk around $100 to get in, and a tent had to be set up outside to quell the angry mob that was demanding entry - and yet, aside from Luis and K. who've mentioned that they might come, I'm at a loss as to who to invite after being declined twice due to prior engagements.

And, before I get angry emails, if I didn't ask you then it's probably because I didn't think you'd enjoy yourself there. (Typically you can float a matchstick on the depth of this crowd, and some of you simply don't bend toward artificial shallowness.)

So:

=============

Cute and clever 30-year-old Heights writer seeking single, well-read, morally casual lingerie model for guestlist entry to fashion shows, concerts, clubs and other events around Houston.
Physical intimacy not required.
Sense of humor, knowledge of indie music and high alcohol tolerance are musts.

=============

There, that oughta do it.

j.s.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Yes Texans, it is 50 degrees outside, and I am still driving around without a top on my Jeep.

Now while I realize that many of you find this amazing, and are unsure as to how I could possibly look like I'm so comfortable in temperatures that have sent you scrambling for wool caps, mittens and ski parkas, I'd appreciate you refraining from discussing this with me at stoplights.
Because I'm very tired of explaining it to you.

Oh, and if you could work out a way to not give me that incredulous, mouth-agape stare as I go by?
Yeah, that'd be swell too.

Thanks,

j.s.

Friday, November 18, 2005

Hi there Cookie.

As per usual on a Friday, things are a little fuzzy around the edges today.

I dropped by O.C. last night for an hour and a couple glasses of wine (ZEUGMA!) with Kristin and Sherry.
Good times...

Then at 10 I took off and headed to the Betsey Johnson fashion show at Dean's that I'd promised to attend.
Absolutely packed.
So much so that when the models were to walk, they had to caution tape a makeshift "runway" down the center of the bar and herd people to either side.

There were so many territorial bubble violations that I almost lost it...at one point I counted four shoulders poking me in various places at once.

And the show...

I've no idea who decided that taking otherwise beautiful long hair, and AquaNet sculpting it into a likeness of the Flying Spaghetti Monster upon a model's head was a Good Idea.[tm]
But someone obviously did...it looked like Motley Crue Karaoke Night in a house of mirrors in there.
Which was not only unfortunate in a purely aesthetic sense, it also completely drew attention away from the brilliant job they'd done on their make-up.

I've absolutely no problem with drawing attention away from Betsey J's clothes however.
I've never been much of a fan of her designs, or her for that matter, and last night was no exception. I mean, I get her stuff, I am a professional aeshete after all...but those loud, frilly, pixie-esque concoctions simply don't play well with my more classic and austere views on fashion.

*as he looks down his nose*

And I hate the fact that she does a goddamned cartwheel after her shows are over...hate.

But, it was a fashion show.
And if they're not good, they're at the very least interesting.
So it was.

I stuck around until 1, said goodbye and thanks to the people I was there to gladhand, then headed home and to bed.

Tonight I'm taking my grandmother out to dinner, and then I plan on stopping by the old house to see how bad the fire damage is.

So, if you're looking for me tonight, I'll be out in the goddamned suburbs.
See you Saturday.

j.s.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

It appears that my childhood home is, as we speak, on fire.

Currently there are several fire trucks outside attempting to put it out...

=[

j.s.

Monday, November 14, 2005

You know, I often try to convince people that Mormons aren't crazed cultists, and that the religion, while a bit bizarre, isn't really hurting anyone.

But things like this don't exactly help my argument.

And speaking of "Idiot America," This article on Intelligent Design from Esquire Magazine was quite good, if you have a few extra minutes.

"We've been attacked by the intelligent, educated segment of the culture."

Classic.

j.s.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Hi there.

Lazy Sunday evening, so I figured I'd post a bit before reading and heading to bed.

I did absolutely nothing on Friday but hang around the house, clean up a bit, and recover from Thursday's O.C. night, so we can skip right to Saturday.

I had a fashion show by one of the designers from "Project Runway" to cover at 9, complete with reserved front row seating. (And yes, that felt kinda cool.) This actually proved the perfect introduction to a very interesting evening.

I dug the women's line infinitely more than the men's stuff they were showing.
The stitching on most of the guy's shirts looked like final exams from a high school "Garment Construction" correspondence course.
It also didn't help that they picked some really awful little models to try and pull off the line.
One of them was about 5' 5".
I mean seriously...

And, before I get comments from hordes of angry, diminutive men, allow me to explain.
It isn't that clothes look bad on you shorter guys.
Not at all.
It's just that they look better on someone who's 6' or taller.

See, the taller you are, the more you fill out the fabric of the garment, which in turn results in a better drape and an overall cleaner look. (This is the reason that the average height for male models is between 5'11" and 6'2", aside from the standardization of designs of course.)
So take a deep breath and lay off the hate mail...you adorable lil' munchkin you.

Anyway, all things considered the show wasn't bad.
I left at around 10:30, and headed over to a house party...

Good times.
Good people.
And a champagne font.

However, at around midnight, quite a few of the gentlemen there decided that it was time to strip naked, wander around both the house and the front yard, and give penile-smearing hugs to anyone who'd hold still long enough for them to do so.

And there were a lot of penises involved in these shenangians.
*shivers*

Actually it was a funny scene for about 5 minutes, but they overstayed their genitalic welcome by about an hour. (1am saw me in the kitchen, still trying to convince some guy that, "It's pants time mate. No really. It's pants time. Please. Put it away.")

But, despite the mob of male members, everyone seemed to have a great time.
I'm quite looking forward to the next one at St. Arnold's on the day after Thanksgiving. (Though I don't think the fine people at St. Arnold's will be very accommodating about Nudity in the Brewery... Just a thought.)

Headed home at around 2 or so.

Today I've just been hanging around the house again, trying to finish up Still Life With Woodpecker. (I know. But I somehow made it through college without reading anything by Tom Robbins and I'm having to make up for that now.)

Besides, Anansi Boys came out a while back and I must read that.
However I've blood oathed myself (which is much easier than taking a blood oath with someone else), that I'd finish these before I bought another book.

So, on that note, I'm going to get back to it.
But I'll leave you with this thought.

Does anyone else feel really bad for Romeo Crennel, the coach of the Cleveland Browns, when he loses?
I mean he always looks so hurt and disconsolate, as if his players had double-crossed him and broken his big ol' heart.
I don't know why, but I always want to give him a hug and some "you'll get 'em next week" rhetoric after he's lost a game.
*shrug*

Okay, good night.

j.s.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Happy birthday Mom. =]

j.s.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

And lo, yet another O.C. night is upon us.

Wherin we shall drink Jamaican beer on the porch, listen to indie music, argue politics and pop subbacultcha, convince ourselves yet again of the superiority of our ideals, and generally carouse as if it were a weekend.

Which it isn't...
But we'll just pretend K?

See you there.

j.s.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

And I'm beginning to think that it will never get cold in this Godforsaken place.

I miss seeing my breath at night, I miss how cozy my house feels when the spaceheater is on, I miss wearing a coat, the smell of wood burning, woolen hats, hot cocoa, walking with my hands in my pockets, frost on the grass in the morning, girls in scarves, warming my hands on a mug of coffee, sweaters, the smell of the heater in my car, that tingly feeling right when you come inside from the cold...

This 85 degree November thing?
It's just not working for me anymore.

j.s.

Wow.

Wednesday already and I haven't posted a bit. Sorry about that...I've been so wrapped up in the end-of-monthiness at work, and in getting my articles written for next month, that I haven't had time for much else.

So, what's cookin'?

I tried to call ShopGirl today, alas it would seem that she's out of town for the weekend for a wedding...
Hopefully not her own.
Though that does seem to be the rub with me lately doesn't it? =]

And with the tentative results in from the polls yesterday, it's becoming very apparent that this just isn't my America anymore.
I'm beginning to think that it never was.

I mean, when I fundamentally disagree with almost 75% of all voters on something like Proposition 2, that's what we in the business like to call "a bad sign."

Now I was none too thrilled that I've been paying these asshats to come up with such hate-fueled, religiously-biased legislation to begin with, but then 3/4 of my neighbors went out and voted FOR amending the constitution to define marriage as only being between a man and a woman...

And I'm so very disappointed in you all.

Just what is it about two consenting adults of the same sex wanting to create a life-long union that terrifies you so utterly, that you feel no recourse but a Constitutional amendment is warranted?
I'm usually pretty good about seeing both sides of an issue...but this one has me at a loss.

You know, I realize I haven't said much about politics lately, and the reason is this:
I've gotten so tired of caring deeply about something, believing it to be the "right" thing, and then watching the American people completely fuck it up by being spiteful and didactic morons, and using our government like their personal proselytization stick.

Liberal and conservative, Republican and Democrat alike.
I'm about ready to wash my hands of all of you.

Sigh...I sound defeatist don't I?
Sorry.
It's just a really helpless feeling when 3/4 of the people around you disagree with something that you feel should be obvious to anyone with a functioning frontal lobe...

Anyway, I'm not feeling very hopeful for us today.

Rather, I'm feeling like more and more people with a hard-on for Jesus will continue to decide what's right and wrong for me in His name...and that has a way of depressing the hell out of me with a quickness.

Sigh.
I'm going home.
And I'm not sure where that is anymore...

j.s.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Hi,

So I deleted that mp3 post on Saturday morning. Sorry, fiscal retribution from the RIAA had me a bit nervous.

The files are still up on the server however, and I'll happily send along the links to anyone who wants them. (Just drop me an email.)

So, let's recap a bit shall we?

Thursday I went by O.C. for a drink with J.T. (acronym zen) for an hour or so, then bolted over to The Proletariat for the Stars show. Caught up with a couple people I knew from O.C. there, who had a hypercute friend that I actually never got to meet.
(And if someone would remind me to gently reprimand them about that next Thursday I'd appreciate it. Thank you.)

As I was leaving I bumped into Torque (one of the lead singers of Stars) outside, told him how much I enjoyed his set, and said I'd see him on Saturday in Austin.
He beamed a little, thanked me several times and waved me goodbye.

From there, I sped over to Engine Room to see Lucero, a band I'm writing about for next month's magazine, who were actually quite good. And you can read all about them next month. (Shameless plug!)

And, speaking of the magazine, the newest issue has come out, with my words gracing not only half of the fashion section, but my write-up on Audioslave made it in as well. (Even received billing on the mag cover...thank you very much.)

So, Saturday I wrote a few more articles in the morning for next months' issue, then caught up with D at Berryhill for breakfast before we took off for Austin and the Stars/Death Cab show.

We rolled into the city around 6ish, and stopped at Stubb's BBQ for dinner. (It's also where the show was, for those who're fuzzy on your Austin indie scene geography.) We actually got a table right next to where the bands were warming up, so we got to hear Stars soundchecking and going through a couple songs while we had dinner.
After which, we went around the back of the restaurant to stand in a line of eerily similar white kids...all with kitsch t-shirts, baggy jeans, and adorably touseled bed heads.
And all very, very young.

If I ask nicely, do you think "The O.C." would stop selling my music to these FOX addicted children?
Because at this point it's either that or firebomb their studios...

Anyway, we watch the show, which was really good despite the inane ramblings of 4 12-year-old girls behind me. (Yes I'm serious.)
Death Cab did a lot of songs off earlier albums, all of which I prefer over "Plans." And D and I filed out, quite happy, after the show was over.

Which leads me to that "pursuit of a particular girl" bit I mentioned on Monday.
And damn...she needs an nom de guerre now doesn't she?
Hmmm...we'll call her Karin for the time being.

So, I get a call from Karin after the show that says she and some friends are at Light Bar, so we head over to catch up with them.
She looks great, and we talk for an undetermined amount of time before we notice that everyone that we were sitting with has left the table.
*smile*
She had to work the next day, so we call it a night at around 12:30. I walk her out and start making plans to catch up on the night before Thanksgiving. (Which happens to be the night of my magazine's issue release party, to which I'll be wielding a Vorpal Guest-List +1 of course... =] )

We'll see.

After the bar, D and I head back to Houston and stagger in, bleary-eyed, at around 4 in the morning.

Sunday I got a lift back to my place, then headed over to The Galleria to do a little research. Went by Armani, Neiman's, and most importantly, Billy Reid. Where I met an dazzlingly cute girl who actually manages the store, and who led me around the boutique, showing me their newest line.
And I did my best to pay attention to what she was showing me.
Really!
It was all business anyway.
Well it was mostly business...

She did ask me where I lived for some unknown reason.
And when I told her she smiled and said that she lives right nearby.
Why she would be interested in that, I have no idea.

I guess we'll see.
..ahem...
Because I did get her card.
And I'm already in the process of coming up with some excus- I mean questions to call her with. =]

Okay, I think that brings us up to speed.
And, just as I'm about to leave you, I'm reminded of yet another girl I know (wow, definitely a recurrent theme in ths post...) by Imogen Heap's adorable "Goodnight and Go" coming on my iTunes.
Hm... =]

Okay, goodnight.

j.s.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

getobject("definition:");

So what is "insomnia" really?

Is it the inability to get to sleep initally, and the subsequent flopping and wriggling about for hours as you watch the satan-red numbers of your digital clock morph from hour to hour?

Or is it the act of falling asleep, then waking an hour later for 10 minutes or so before crashing again? (With that scene playing on 'repeat' all night long.)

Because I'm suffering from both right now, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why.
I mean, it isn't like I lead a hectic, stressful lifestyle. And things in general are going pretty well at the moment.
But I just cannot quiet my head enough to fall asleep.
And when I finally do nod off, I inevitably awake 40 or 50 minutes later, numb and confused and feeling that weird, tingly stomachache that you get when you're awoken in the middle of the night.

And that, is teh suck.

Regardless, I have got to figure out a way to get a decent night's sleep soon, as it's when I can't that I typically become deathly ill. And I'm one of the most whiny and pathetic sick people on Earth.

The second illness strikes I become completely mopey and despondent, languish for hours on the couch under my quilt with a Rampart wall of crumpled tissues, tea mugs and soupbowls slowly rising around me.

What's worse, I busy my addled head by convincing it that I'm actually dying.
Which, in turn, typically prompts me to start calling anyone that I think might be around to answer their phone and mewling piteously about my impending demise for as long as they'll let me do so.

(Actually, the real reason I do this is that being sick by myself is the only time I feel really "alone." And by calling you, that feeling is assuaged a bit.)

**collective "awwww"**

However, since I'm sure that none of you wish to take such calls in the near future, would one of you mind, like, hitting me on the head with a pipe or a rock or something at around midnight tonight so I can finally get some sleep?

I'll thank you Friday.

j.s.