Ah, the fireworks, the cook outs, the liberty. Yep, it's the big 4th of July holiday weekend. Two realities face me this weekend.
1. I have 4 of the next 5 days off from work.
2. I'm broke as a bad joke.
Coming off of my trip back home last week, I spent pretty much my bi-weekly allowance already and pay day is 6 days away. As such, I'm pretty much fucked as far as getting involved with any costly ventures this weekend. But right now I have this desire to get myself back into the mix here in Georgia and socialize a bit. My hermit like nature since I moved out of the downtown area has put me in a situation that I need to change. Howard Stern and his wacky crew have become my closest friends and I'm starting to dream of the show in my sleep now. (Sad.)
Don't get me wrong, Joolie and I are still tight but she is working tonight and tomorrow night until midnight taking her out of the mix for social options. What I know of happening this weekend has potential...
This guy is turning 30 and having party tomorrow night. My old boss who is heading back to NYC for a new work option is having a party also on Saturday night. This means BYOB and a place to hang out, i.e. relatively cheap.
Sunday there is a Rockabilly show that this chick on Myspace cannot stop sending out bulletins for. It's a day show and in the worst venue in the tri-state area, but it might be entertaining.
Monday I have work. Boo.
The 4th...well the 4th this year can't be any worse than last year when I knew NO ONE here and watched fireworks from my window while on the phone with a girl back in Philly lamenting that I might have made a terrible decision to move south. Jenn and Dale, a skinhead couple that I socialize with sometimes, are having a BBQ over in SC and that might be the way to go considering again, BYOB and a place to chill.
The only problem I forsee is that drinking and driving are a dangerous combo, and everything requires wheels. No word on any action at Joolie and Eric's pool this weekend, but I definitely will push the issue when I head to the bar tonight to hang with Eric. Yep, I'm gonna hit the bar up tonight and most likely spend what little money I have left to squander. Too bad my fridge is empty...but then again, I could drop a couple pounds.
Enjoy your holiday weekend.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Nightmare Journey
I was dropped off at the airport around 2:20 PM yesterday by my Stepfather. Considering that I checked US Airways.com ahead of time to see that my 3:25 PM flight was already pushed back 20 minutes I thought I was going to make it to the gate without a problem. Anymore most airports have self service kiosks making the process extremely painless. Unless of course your name cannot be found in that little machine and you are instructed to see a representative.
Yep, I wasn't able to get my e-ticket and had to resort to figuring out how to "see a representative" without getting in a huge line that wasn't moving very quickly at all. I checked the board and saw that my flight was delayed until 4:24 PM now, so I guess I could have waited in the line for my turn, But that's no fun. I played dumb and approached one of the self service kiosk luggage handlers and said the machine was saying weird stuff and I didn't know what to do. After a five minute period of silence while he typed furiously on his little keyboard and I stared at the massive amount of people cramming into this lobby the agent very deadpan says "your flight was cancelled." Huh? Cancelled?
So what's the plan now, I ask. The agent informs me that the next flight is 8:30 PM at gate F13 and that I will need to check in at the gate to obtain a seat. Great, it's 3 PM and I'm sitting in the airport waiting for an 8:30 PM flight, sounds exciting. Between the hours of 3:30 and 6:30 I occupied myself just fine with my laptop until the juice ran out. I wandered around looking for an outlet to plug into and crawled up under a pay phone with my luggage to suck up some power. All this time there was no gate agent, so I couldn't check in and obtain my seat which made me uneasy. Oddly enough at around 6:50 PM an old roommate of mine from college, Charlene, began walking down the corridor straight at me backpack in tow. I thought for a moment this waiting period had made me delirious and I was imagining her presence, that was until she grabbed me and gave me a big hug. Charlene was returning from Ethiopia by way of Montreal by way of Frankfurt and was more worn out that I was due to her travels, and so we spent a good 15 minutes small talking and comparing battle scars related to our travels with airlines.
After this little surprise run in, I went back to the gate with just enough power on the lap top to make it through a viewing of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind which I had packed for the return flight. I finally saw an agent at my gate and proceeded to check in for my seat assignment. It's now 7:20 PM and the flight is supposed to board at 8 PM, so I figured I should get cracking on making sure I have my boarding pass. It was at this point that I'm told I am on standby, a tidbit the initial agent left out. Yikes. You mean there is an opportunity that I will miss making this flight too? Holy shit.
The next 40 minutes were spent panic stricken, waiting for the boarding call to go out and to see how many people show up for the flight, Considering that my flight was cancelled earlier in the day, I was expecting a problem with seats i.e. not enough to go around. After about 14 people make their way on board, the gate agent calls my name and gives me a ticket. I guess she was just torturing me after all. The plane was less than half full, and so I made my way on safely at about 8:05 PM eager to finally get out of the airport and up in the air. I was so excited that I texted my brother Dan to let him know that I was officially on a plane. Yeah!!!
While waiting for the luggage to be loaded on the plane, the pilot chit chats with the gate agent and eventually makes an announcement that the luggage cart next to our plane doesn't appear to be our cart of luggage. So now we are waiting for the right luggage to be located and swapped. And if you are familiar with Philadelphia International you know that the workers there work at a pace somewhere between a sloth and a snail at all times. Once this problem is rectified we push off from the gate at roughly 9 PM heading towards are runway. As expected the snafu with luggage put us 7th on the take off list and we wouldn't be getting airborne until about 9:20 PM the captain tells us. What blows about this situation is that we are not able to listen to Ipods/watch DVDs until we are airborne and the delay is forcing me to keep my lap top on but sleeping. At this point I was just about out of my mind from not eating and just sitting prone for hours on end. I wanted to disappear in the Eternal Sunshine!
I think it was shortly before this estimated time of 9:20 PM that the captain informed us that the runway we were scheduled to use for take off was being closed by air traffic control due to weather. This means we are now in a situation where they have to reroute our flight from another take off location and put us back in line. The captain's estimate was about another 20 minute delay, but he renigged on that information about 10 minutes later when he said the following "um, air traffic control has informed us that there between 20-25 planes ahead of us for take off and as a result we are going to turn off the engines to conserve fuel. At this time feel free to break out your cell phones if you want, however I don't have a good estimate of when we will actually get airborne this evening."
Oh my God. It's 10 PM and I've now officially been waiting to leave Philly for 8 full hours. That's a work day. And I'm still not gone. So I decided to bury myself in Eternal Sunshine and not worry anymore, however the juice I gave my computer turned out to leave me in a position to not see the final 20 minutes of the movie. Dead battery. And we are still on the ground. I think at this point I decided that I was not making it to work today. Considering it's close to 11 PM and that the flight is 90 minutes long and then I have about an hour and fifteen minute drive home from the airport, there is no way I'm making it up at 6:45 AM for work.
Eventually we get up in the air about 11:15 PM and push it back to Columbia, arriving at about 12:40 AM. Wow. 10 plus hours via airplane, and now I have to drive home hungry as hell and tired as can be. I toyed with the idea of getting a hotel room in Columbia, but I couldn't find one. The airport location is oddly tucked away from civilization and nothing was open in the airport to direct me to the nearest hotel, so I said fuck it and made the drive home. A quick stop at Dunkin Donuts was the only further delay on this incredible journey. I got home at 2 AM, and it was at this point that I realized had I just driven back I would have been home 1 hour earlier.
I guess the moral of this story for me is that US Airways is a terrible airline. Down here they refer to them as US Scareways, and I think I finally figured out why. My flight up to Philly didn't take off until after I was supposed to land and the trouble with the return trip detailed above is enough to scare me off from booking another trip on them again. I guess they get points for getting me home safely though? And I am home. And I will be all day long.
Yep, I wasn't able to get my e-ticket and had to resort to figuring out how to "see a representative" without getting in a huge line that wasn't moving very quickly at all. I checked the board and saw that my flight was delayed until 4:24 PM now, so I guess I could have waited in the line for my turn, But that's no fun. I played dumb and approached one of the self service kiosk luggage handlers and said the machine was saying weird stuff and I didn't know what to do. After a five minute period of silence while he typed furiously on his little keyboard and I stared at the massive amount of people cramming into this lobby the agent very deadpan says "your flight was cancelled." Huh? Cancelled?
So what's the plan now, I ask. The agent informs me that the next flight is 8:30 PM at gate F13 and that I will need to check in at the gate to obtain a seat. Great, it's 3 PM and I'm sitting in the airport waiting for an 8:30 PM flight, sounds exciting. Between the hours of 3:30 and 6:30 I occupied myself just fine with my laptop until the juice ran out. I wandered around looking for an outlet to plug into and crawled up under a pay phone with my luggage to suck up some power. All this time there was no gate agent, so I couldn't check in and obtain my seat which made me uneasy. Oddly enough at around 6:50 PM an old roommate of mine from college, Charlene, began walking down the corridor straight at me backpack in tow. I thought for a moment this waiting period had made me delirious and I was imagining her presence, that was until she grabbed me and gave me a big hug. Charlene was returning from Ethiopia by way of Montreal by way of Frankfurt and was more worn out that I was due to her travels, and so we spent a good 15 minutes small talking and comparing battle scars related to our travels with airlines.
After this little surprise run in, I went back to the gate with just enough power on the lap top to make it through a viewing of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind which I had packed for the return flight. I finally saw an agent at my gate and proceeded to check in for my seat assignment. It's now 7:20 PM and the flight is supposed to board at 8 PM, so I figured I should get cracking on making sure I have my boarding pass. It was at this point that I'm told I am on standby, a tidbit the initial agent left out. Yikes. You mean there is an opportunity that I will miss making this flight too? Holy shit.
The next 40 minutes were spent panic stricken, waiting for the boarding call to go out and to see how many people show up for the flight, Considering that my flight was cancelled earlier in the day, I was expecting a problem with seats i.e. not enough to go around. After about 14 people make their way on board, the gate agent calls my name and gives me a ticket. I guess she was just torturing me after all. The plane was less than half full, and so I made my way on safely at about 8:05 PM eager to finally get out of the airport and up in the air. I was so excited that I texted my brother Dan to let him know that I was officially on a plane. Yeah!!!
While waiting for the luggage to be loaded on the plane, the pilot chit chats with the gate agent and eventually makes an announcement that the luggage cart next to our plane doesn't appear to be our cart of luggage. So now we are waiting for the right luggage to be located and swapped. And if you are familiar with Philadelphia International you know that the workers there work at a pace somewhere between a sloth and a snail at all times. Once this problem is rectified we push off from the gate at roughly 9 PM heading towards are runway. As expected the snafu with luggage put us 7th on the take off list and we wouldn't be getting airborne until about 9:20 PM the captain tells us. What blows about this situation is that we are not able to listen to Ipods/watch DVDs until we are airborne and the delay is forcing me to keep my lap top on but sleeping. At this point I was just about out of my mind from not eating and just sitting prone for hours on end. I wanted to disappear in the Eternal Sunshine!
I think it was shortly before this estimated time of 9:20 PM that the captain informed us that the runway we were scheduled to use for take off was being closed by air traffic control due to weather. This means we are now in a situation where they have to reroute our flight from another take off location and put us back in line. The captain's estimate was about another 20 minute delay, but he renigged on that information about 10 minutes later when he said the following "um, air traffic control has informed us that there between 20-25 planes ahead of us for take off and as a result we are going to turn off the engines to conserve fuel. At this time feel free to break out your cell phones if you want, however I don't have a good estimate of when we will actually get airborne this evening."
Oh my God. It's 10 PM and I've now officially been waiting to leave Philly for 8 full hours. That's a work day. And I'm still not gone. So I decided to bury myself in Eternal Sunshine and not worry anymore, however the juice I gave my computer turned out to leave me in a position to not see the final 20 minutes of the movie. Dead battery. And we are still on the ground. I think at this point I decided that I was not making it to work today. Considering it's close to 11 PM and that the flight is 90 minutes long and then I have about an hour and fifteen minute drive home from the airport, there is no way I'm making it up at 6:45 AM for work.
Eventually we get up in the air about 11:15 PM and push it back to Columbia, arriving at about 12:40 AM. Wow. 10 plus hours via airplane, and now I have to drive home hungry as hell and tired as can be. I toyed with the idea of getting a hotel room in Columbia, but I couldn't find one. The airport location is oddly tucked away from civilization and nothing was open in the airport to direct me to the nearest hotel, so I said fuck it and made the drive home. A quick stop at Dunkin Donuts was the only further delay on this incredible journey. I got home at 2 AM, and it was at this point that I realized had I just driven back I would have been home 1 hour earlier.
I guess the moral of this story for me is that US Airways is a terrible airline. Down here they refer to them as US Scareways, and I think I finally figured out why. My flight up to Philly didn't take off until after I was supposed to land and the trouble with the return trip detailed above is enough to scare me off from booking another trip on them again. I guess they get points for getting me home safely though? And I am home. And I will be all day long.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
A Place Called Home
Home is more a group of people than an actual place for me these days. I realized that this weekend while spending some time with my family and friends at various old houses and haunts. It wasn't until the 3rd day of my long weekend that I set foot into my childhood home and the place looks more and more unfamiliar to me every time I do check in. Every trace of my childhood is gone, covered in white and erased forever. It makes me feel old seeing everything modernized; old and sad I suppose. I miss rusted metal railings outside, I miss a drop ceiling in the basement that drops on your head one tile at a time and I miss having a small, yet basic yard. Improvements are naturally needed, but perhaps the direction of the improvements are not my taste and therefore leave me feeling like a stranger in a strange land there anymore.
Thankfully, I visit not to watch my old house get systemically reshaped into Little Italy, but to spend time with those that can reaffirm my identity and make me feel less like a lost soul. And this weekend was in general a good time from start to finish. Well, considering I'm waiting in the airport for an 8:30 PM flight since my 3:30 flight was cancelled, the end is a little shaky. But all in all I think I enjoyed myself more than I have in a while on a visit home, got to see the people I wanted to see and can venture back down South with the resolve that everyone is how I left them and doing more or less just fine without me around.
Friday night, a simple game of poker with my old wrecking crew hit the spot. Gabe is ready for his move to North Carolina, impressed with my decision to move but still worried more about me than he should. Justin is loving his job and seems to be content with his marriage failing, knowing he tried harder at saving it than anything he's ever done. Sugar Swane has gotten another protege under his mighty wings, still battling his music demons but ever so slightly forging on towards normalcy by buying a home for the first time at 42. The Weasel, well he stays the same...and that's how I like it. Disappearing at the end of the night on his road bike for the shitfaced 15 mile ride is his m.o. and he didn't disappoint. Jared is someone I wished I had more time to spend time with, but we are working on a Universal Studios trip for the late summer/early fall that will be plenty fun. In the meantime, I hope he remains positive about his situation and eats something for fuck's sake. Although I wasn't a winner, the night was full of laughs and good conversation, the perfect way to start things off this time around.
Saturday was devoted to my cousin Todd's wedding out in Royersford at the Spring Ford Country Club. I made zero effort in the wardrobe department, looking more or less like a rockabilly star in my Ben Sherman short sleeve shirt, work man's pants and Doc Martens. I'm just not willing to be restricted in a suit anymore in my life, and it's a rule I hold firm to despite the glances I get from others. The wedding itself was your basic formulaic variety, nothing outrageous took place. Considering all of my family was staying at the same hotel not too far from the country club, everyone got very drunk and thankfully all behaved. My good buddy Kevin used the event as an opportunity to ask me to be a member of his wedding party, an honor I accepted without hesitation. I shared a room with 3 of my sisters and only vomited after breakfast the next morning, so we'll call this one a win for me. Especially since I'm the eldest and by far the member of the family with the most worn out liver at this point. Cousin Todd was seemingly shell shocked the entire event, but we had some good words and it was nice to see him look happy for a change.
Sunday was a BBQ at Brother Mike's house in honor of my sister Candace's birthday and culminated in a raucous game of Cranium with friends at Mike's gigantic dining table. Although my team didn't steal the victory, we didn't come in last. That spot was reserved for the cockiest participant, the lovely Audrey who boasted about her victory from the prior week and practically guaranteed another prior to team selection. Noele, Castagna and the birthday girl snatched the victory from Mike, Shawn and myself. The cap of the evening was a viewing of Entourage, followed by my final goodbyes to Kevin, Noele, Audrey and Shawn.
Monday was spent in the recording studio with Brother Dan helping to add some harmony vocals to one of his songs, my favorite of his songs entitled Pretty Baby. The song is pure gold and I was very happy to finally have an opportunity to put something on tape with both of our contributions attached. It's odd to think that we have never musically collaborated considering both of our involvements in the world of music. A very good guy named Mark from the band Silvertide allowed us to use some studio space and helped out engineering for us. The two of us got to share our feelings on the music biz, my perspective is jaded, failed rock star and his is of soon to be jaded, failed rock star, so we had some lively discussions throughout the day. The cap of Monday was a round of bowling at the local Dave and Busters where we started out to get my sister her first taste of being 21. Unfortunately I was wiped out and couldn't hang past midnight, but I was happy to participate in this once in a lifetime event. My sister in law and I represented for old heads everywhere and did our part to try and get Candace on her way to being wasted. Running into an old childhood friend added a special flavor to the night, and Keiran, now a mother and wife, was a ray of light in an otherwise dismal locale like Dave and Busters. Knocking back Jameson and Ginger with a twist of lime, waxing poetically about plants and the merits of sesame oil, she went about making me wish we were closer in age when I was a teenager and that we were better friends then, and now. At least I got to experience a taste of her personality as an adult, something that I will take back with me as another one of life's little moments that make you feel like shit isn't as bad as it could be.
So here I am, sitting in the airport going over the trip in my head. Focused on this post, rather than the lengthy delay I'm facing. Thinking that overall, this weekend wasn't so bad.
Thankfully, I visit not to watch my old house get systemically reshaped into Little Italy, but to spend time with those that can reaffirm my identity and make me feel less like a lost soul. And this weekend was in general a good time from start to finish. Well, considering I'm waiting in the airport for an 8:30 PM flight since my 3:30 flight was cancelled, the end is a little shaky. But all in all I think I enjoyed myself more than I have in a while on a visit home, got to see the people I wanted to see and can venture back down South with the resolve that everyone is how I left them and doing more or less just fine without me around.
Friday night, a simple game of poker with my old wrecking crew hit the spot. Gabe is ready for his move to North Carolina, impressed with my decision to move but still worried more about me than he should. Justin is loving his job and seems to be content with his marriage failing, knowing he tried harder at saving it than anything he's ever done. Sugar Swane has gotten another protege under his mighty wings, still battling his music demons but ever so slightly forging on towards normalcy by buying a home for the first time at 42. The Weasel, well he stays the same...and that's how I like it. Disappearing at the end of the night on his road bike for the shitfaced 15 mile ride is his m.o. and he didn't disappoint. Jared is someone I wished I had more time to spend time with, but we are working on a Universal Studios trip for the late summer/early fall that will be plenty fun. In the meantime, I hope he remains positive about his situation and eats something for fuck's sake. Although I wasn't a winner, the night was full of laughs and good conversation, the perfect way to start things off this time around.
Saturday was devoted to my cousin Todd's wedding out in Royersford at the Spring Ford Country Club. I made zero effort in the wardrobe department, looking more or less like a rockabilly star in my Ben Sherman short sleeve shirt, work man's pants and Doc Martens. I'm just not willing to be restricted in a suit anymore in my life, and it's a rule I hold firm to despite the glances I get from others. The wedding itself was your basic formulaic variety, nothing outrageous took place. Considering all of my family was staying at the same hotel not too far from the country club, everyone got very drunk and thankfully all behaved. My good buddy Kevin used the event as an opportunity to ask me to be a member of his wedding party, an honor I accepted without hesitation. I shared a room with 3 of my sisters and only vomited after breakfast the next morning, so we'll call this one a win for me. Especially since I'm the eldest and by far the member of the family with the most worn out liver at this point. Cousin Todd was seemingly shell shocked the entire event, but we had some good words and it was nice to see him look happy for a change.
Sunday was a BBQ at Brother Mike's house in honor of my sister Candace's birthday and culminated in a raucous game of Cranium with friends at Mike's gigantic dining table. Although my team didn't steal the victory, we didn't come in last. That spot was reserved for the cockiest participant, the lovely Audrey who boasted about her victory from the prior week and practically guaranteed another prior to team selection. Noele, Castagna and the birthday girl snatched the victory from Mike, Shawn and myself. The cap of the evening was a viewing of Entourage, followed by my final goodbyes to Kevin, Noele, Audrey and Shawn.
Monday was spent in the recording studio with Brother Dan helping to add some harmony vocals to one of his songs, my favorite of his songs entitled Pretty Baby. The song is pure gold and I was very happy to finally have an opportunity to put something on tape with both of our contributions attached. It's odd to think that we have never musically collaborated considering both of our involvements in the world of music. A very good guy named Mark from the band Silvertide allowed us to use some studio space and helped out engineering for us. The two of us got to share our feelings on the music biz, my perspective is jaded, failed rock star and his is of soon to be jaded, failed rock star, so we had some lively discussions throughout the day. The cap of Monday was a round of bowling at the local Dave and Busters where we started out to get my sister her first taste of being 21. Unfortunately I was wiped out and couldn't hang past midnight, but I was happy to participate in this once in a lifetime event. My sister in law and I represented for old heads everywhere and did our part to try and get Candace on her way to being wasted. Running into an old childhood friend added a special flavor to the night, and Keiran, now a mother and wife, was a ray of light in an otherwise dismal locale like Dave and Busters. Knocking back Jameson and Ginger with a twist of lime, waxing poetically about plants and the merits of sesame oil, she went about making me wish we were closer in age when I was a teenager and that we were better friends then, and now. At least I got to experience a taste of her personality as an adult, something that I will take back with me as another one of life's little moments that make you feel like shit isn't as bad as it could be.
So here I am, sitting in the airport going over the trip in my head. Focused on this post, rather than the lengthy delay I'm facing. Thinking that overall, this weekend wasn't so bad.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Flat Stanley
It's a very rainy morning here in Philadelphia and I just found in my brother Mike's book case a children's book that used to disturb me as a child. Flat Stanley was written in 1964, so how it was presented to me when I was 3 or 4 years old is a mystery. The inside cover has a very cryptic signature from both my sister Crystal and myself, so I'm guessing we were most likely haggling over ownership rights as children. Considering how this book as lingered on in my memory banks, I wish I would have just let her have the damn thing to herself. Why you ask? Well, this book is by far the creepiest book I've ever come across in my life and I think as a child it gave me bad dreams. As an adult re-reading it in five minutes on the can, I can honestly say I'm still disturbed.
The book's theme is tolerance. I guess all kid's books have themes hidden behind clever dogs, or wacky ducks or some shit. This book uses a "flat" child as the outcast and shows all the perks to being flat but the jealousy it causes for others who aren't flat. Hold on, I'm jumping slightly ahead. Forgive me.
So Stanley goes to bed in the same room as his little brother. During the night a cork board falls on top of him while he is sleeping and he is found under it in the AM completely flattened but alive. Crazy premise so far don't you think? So Stanley's parents take him to the doctor and they find out that this type of thing happens all the time. I'm pretty sure it was at this point I started to manifest hellacious thoughts of getting flattened in my sleep. Although the book outlines perks, the drawings of this kid being only 1/2 inch thick are spooky. The next few pages of the book show Stanley being lowered into sewer grates to find Mom's ring, being used as a kite, being rolled up for travel purposes with the parents and most insanely being mailed to California to visit a friend in a giant envelope. Even in 1964 there are jabs about the high cost of airfare in a children's book!
Eventually word catches on about Stanley and his "gift" of flatness. The local art museum has been hit with a rash of robberies, so the curator asks Stanley's parents to let the boy help. Stanley is dressed up like Little Bo Peep and is mounted to the wall like a painting due to his flatness and winds up nabbing the crooks when they try to steal him. Even the celebrity around this event doesn't make Stanley any happier about his situation. His younger brother is jealous of his success and fame, and tries to flatten himself to no avail. Eventually Stanley and his brother conspire to "inflate" Stanley back to normal size using a bicycle pump. And low and behold it works! Stanley is restored to normal size and will take with him the lessons learned from his experience of being flat. I on the other hand only learned to sleep with one eye open to watch out for falling items in my room that may crush me. This book fucked me up as a kid. And I bet it would do the same today...
The book's theme is tolerance. I guess all kid's books have themes hidden behind clever dogs, or wacky ducks or some shit. This book uses a "flat" child as the outcast and shows all the perks to being flat but the jealousy it causes for others who aren't flat. Hold on, I'm jumping slightly ahead. Forgive me.
So Stanley goes to bed in the same room as his little brother. During the night a cork board falls on top of him while he is sleeping and he is found under it in the AM completely flattened but alive. Crazy premise so far don't you think? So Stanley's parents take him to the doctor and they find out that this type of thing happens all the time. I'm pretty sure it was at this point I started to manifest hellacious thoughts of getting flattened in my sleep. Although the book outlines perks, the drawings of this kid being only 1/2 inch thick are spooky. The next few pages of the book show Stanley being lowered into sewer grates to find Mom's ring, being used as a kite, being rolled up for travel purposes with the parents and most insanely being mailed to California to visit a friend in a giant envelope. Even in 1964 there are jabs about the high cost of airfare in a children's book!
Eventually word catches on about Stanley and his "gift" of flatness. The local art museum has been hit with a rash of robberies, so the curator asks Stanley's parents to let the boy help. Stanley is dressed up like Little Bo Peep and is mounted to the wall like a painting due to his flatness and winds up nabbing the crooks when they try to steal him. Even the celebrity around this event doesn't make Stanley any happier about his situation. His younger brother is jealous of his success and fame, and tries to flatten himself to no avail. Eventually Stanley and his brother conspire to "inflate" Stanley back to normal size using a bicycle pump. And low and behold it works! Stanley is restored to normal size and will take with him the lessons learned from his experience of being flat. I on the other hand only learned to sleep with one eye open to watch out for falling items in my room that may crush me. This book fucked me up as a kid. And I bet it would do the same today...
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Here I Go Again
Tomorrow I'm off to Philly for a long weekend of action packed visiting. The lineup looks to favor alcohol poisoning...
Friday Night - Poker with the boys
Saturday Night - Wedding
Sunday Night - Board Games/Entourage Viewing party
Monday Night - Little Sister's 21st B-day
Although there is no confirmed host for the game night event, I'm certain it will come together somehow. And boy am I looking forward to kicking some ass in Cranium. But most of all I'm looking forward to seeing some friendly faces and relaxing. Getting a break from the day to day here is more than welcome at this point.
I'm coming off a nutty work week, so I need to unwind. And by unwind I mean DRINK.
Friday Night - Poker with the boys
Saturday Night - Wedding
Sunday Night - Board Games/Entourage Viewing party
Monday Night - Little Sister's 21st B-day
Although there is no confirmed host for the game night event, I'm certain it will come together somehow. And boy am I looking forward to kicking some ass in Cranium. But most of all I'm looking forward to seeing some friendly faces and relaxing. Getting a break from the day to day here is more than welcome at this point.
I'm coming off a nutty work week, so I need to unwind. And by unwind I mean DRINK.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
My Baby Brother: Movie Mogul
Last week my brother Dan went to a full fledged film festival in Las Vegas to shop around a movie he produced last year and walked away from the experience with 4K in roulette winnings, a meeting with MTV Films and the interest of the Weinsteins. On the table is the potential to get this little black and white thinker called 4th Dimension into Toronto or Montreal and ultimately a distribution deal with a heavy hitter on the indie circuit. The film won Honorable Mention at Cinevegas, an up and comer on the festival circuit, but more importantly Danny Boy got to share a cab ride with Bobcat Golthwait and bring up his separation from Nikki Cox like a douche bag. Downside to the trip was heading out of town before Beer League, Artie Lange's movie, debuted and the big b-day bash for Dennis Hopper at the Venetian.
Yeah, I know. It's awesome. And I couldn't be happier for him.
Ain't It Cool News review.
Another review.
4th Dimension
Yeah, I know. It's awesome. And I couldn't be happier for him.
Ain't It Cool News review.
Another review.
4th Dimension
Monday, June 19, 2006
Tuckered.
No energy today. None. I had like 5 hours of rough sleep last night and had to be in work at 7 am. As a result, I bailed on work early since I was not feeling 100%. Lucky for me Howard Stern is now streaming online at Sirius.com and I have something to occupy my time as I waste away on the couch.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Inspire Yourself, That's All You Can Do
Lately I have been feeling some sense of blah about everything in my life, hence the infrequent posts on here. I have been taking pictures, but not anything artistic just the same poolside shots of the same people each week. I have been watching way too much television, but not anything actually worth watching honestly. I've pretty much cut out going out socially for the past couple weeks as well, just really bored with the sameness of this town and want to take a break so when I get back out there it feels new again.
Today I ventured to this big flea market to see if I could find anything interesting to buy or if I could find anything interesting to snap photos of. Sadly I came up empty on the creative front, but I did walk out of there with an ashtray that is looks like a peice of wood, a couple of "southern flavored" gifts for my kin folk and a nice funny toy that will be going to a friend here in GA to make him laugh. Perhaps I'm getting accustomed to the oddness of this place because I didn't find walking through a flea market all that strange. The people seemed almost regular and therefore not picture worthy. Dang.
So, how do I fill the void of creativity I am finding myself in? Well, last night I had an epiphany of sorts and ran it by Joolie who was down with the concept. Essentially I want to launch Poison Scooter as not only a tee shirt company, but as a website devoted to Entertainment. I'm talking about meshing Stereogum with Pink Is The New Blog with Reality Blurred with Star Magazine and creating a brand. The idea is to give both Joolie and I an outlet for a writing that is not of a personal nature, perhaps expand our network and recruit other talented people we know with something to say and then use the site as a way to promote our original tee shirt designs devoted to the next great website on the world wide web. Sounds ambitious right?
Keeping in mind that we have only been working at this for 24 hours, the foundation to which we will build upon is located here. I am anxious to hear some feedback about what we are doing, and would love to hear from anyone that reads this trash that might be interested in contributing to the cause. I'm lucky that I have some very smart and funny talents in my circle of friends, and I want to involve as many people as possible to make this something worthy of checking out each morning over that first cup of coffee, right after you check your myspace profile for new comments.
Today I ventured to this big flea market to see if I could find anything interesting to buy or if I could find anything interesting to snap photos of. Sadly I came up empty on the creative front, but I did walk out of there with an ashtray that is looks like a peice of wood, a couple of "southern flavored" gifts for my kin folk and a nice funny toy that will be going to a friend here in GA to make him laugh. Perhaps I'm getting accustomed to the oddness of this place because I didn't find walking through a flea market all that strange. The people seemed almost regular and therefore not picture worthy. Dang.
So, how do I fill the void of creativity I am finding myself in? Well, last night I had an epiphany of sorts and ran it by Joolie who was down with the concept. Essentially I want to launch Poison Scooter as not only a tee shirt company, but as a website devoted to Entertainment. I'm talking about meshing Stereogum with Pink Is The New Blog with Reality Blurred with Star Magazine and creating a brand. The idea is to give both Joolie and I an outlet for a writing that is not of a personal nature, perhaps expand our network and recruit other talented people we know with something to say and then use the site as a way to promote our original tee shirt designs devoted to the next great website on the world wide web. Sounds ambitious right?
Keeping in mind that we have only been working at this for 24 hours, the foundation to which we will build upon is located here. I am anxious to hear some feedback about what we are doing, and would love to hear from anyone that reads this trash that might be interested in contributing to the cause. I'm lucky that I have some very smart and funny talents in my circle of friends, and I want to involve as many people as possible to make this something worthy of checking out each morning over that first cup of coffee, right after you check your myspace profile for new comments.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Mid Week Chill
Another Wednesday off. Last night I stayed up through the worst of the hurricane weather until about 2 AM doing nothing of importance. Today was one of those "no plans" types of day. I had some more gear to buy for the big work decorating thing, and so a trip to Dollar Tree was in order first thing. I dropped $50 on "beachy" stuff like flip-flops, big sunglasses, shovel/pail combination, beach mats, stuff like that. Funny story about this excursion. Apparently Dollar Tree doesn't accept credit cards. I mean they accept Visa, but just not a credit card. Only debit cards. I find this out after I just rung up $50 on the company dime right? I am packing the corporate card for my shopping this week and so I had to reach into my own money now for this stuff. Amazing. I'm sure a reimbursement will be possible, but I also bet it will be weeks before I see the loot.
After the shopping trip I rolled to Joolie's house for some mid-afternoon vegging out. We watched another ocean life documentary and were enthralled. Well, I was. Joolie fell asleep. The girl is narcoleptic for sure. After the documentary, I got to see a program on Dicovery I never saw before. Something about these former crooks who break into your house and then help you better protect it so it doesn't happen for real. Huh? It was odd. And somewhat aggrivating. So I left.
I am now sweating in my house for some reason. Just sitting and sweating. I have a potentail development on the roommate front. At least an email I received today makes me think I do. This chick Elbo is looking for a roommate now as well and she basically said if she doesn't find one by mid-July she wouldn't mind moving into my joint. Sounds fine to me since in the meantime I'm doing nothing to actually find a roommate. The criteria I have for a roommate is pretty simple. Female and either gay or with a boyfriend. Men are dirty. And I'm a neat freak. And the last thing I want is a single girl living in close proximately to me. It's safer for everyone if I find a roommate the doesn't like men or is taken. And luckily Elbo is attached to my local watering hole proprietor Josh and therefore a safe choice. I'll keep you posted on the developments.
I'm ready for my trip home. Lined up a poker night on the Friday I fly in with my boys, Saturday is the big wedding for cousin T-Bone and his lady, Monday night is my sister Candace's 21st. Should be a lot of fun. And man could I use some fun.
After the shopping trip I rolled to Joolie's house for some mid-afternoon vegging out. We watched another ocean life documentary and were enthralled. Well, I was. Joolie fell asleep. The girl is narcoleptic for sure. After the documentary, I got to see a program on Dicovery I never saw before. Something about these former crooks who break into your house and then help you better protect it so it doesn't happen for real. Huh? It was odd. And somewhat aggrivating. So I left.
I am now sweating in my house for some reason. Just sitting and sweating. I have a potentail development on the roommate front. At least an email I received today makes me think I do. This chick Elbo is looking for a roommate now as well and she basically said if she doesn't find one by mid-July she wouldn't mind moving into my joint. Sounds fine to me since in the meantime I'm doing nothing to actually find a roommate. The criteria I have for a roommate is pretty simple. Female and either gay or with a boyfriend. Men are dirty. And I'm a neat freak. And the last thing I want is a single girl living in close proximately to me. It's safer for everyone if I find a roommate the doesn't like men or is taken. And luckily Elbo is attached to my local watering hole proprietor Josh and therefore a safe choice. I'll keep you posted on the developments.
I'm ready for my trip home. Lined up a poker night on the Friday I fly in with my boys, Saturday is the big wedding for cousin T-Bone and his lady, Monday night is my sister Candace's 21st. Should be a lot of fun. And man could I use some fun.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Fishy
I've been mandated to leading the "decoration" committee at work for the next 3 months. Can you imagine? The job entails me recruiting a couple of employees who will come up with ideas and what not for activities and themes that we can decorate for at the office. It's not horrible, there is something very elementary school teacher like about the endeavor, but I'm not sure I can pull it off. Tonight I went to Michael's, my favorite craft emporium, to buy supplies for our summer beach motif. Thankfully I brought Syd along to lend me her creative juices. (I recruited her ass to the committe as well...smart move. I know.) The committee cooked up the concept of making an ocean, or a series of oceans on the outer rim of some cubicles, to which we will add sea life created by all the employees. Yep, you read that right. I'm going to force employees to create their own fish or crab or what not using construction paper and stick on eyes. Involve the people is short hand for "I don't feel like hanging up a ton of shit on my own..."
Something tells me I won't be so lucky come the 4th of July.
Something tells me I won't be so lucky come the 4th of July.
Howard TV
I cracked. I had some wacky bills coming from Comcast due to my recent move and I had to call them to sort out a situation whereby they said I owed $285 and I wound up with a credit of $26 when it was all said and done. While I was on the phone with them I decided to purchase Howard Stern's In Demand channell for $10 a month. Summer is here, and for the most part television sucks, so I figured this should keep me from being bored on those slow nights.
So far, I'm thrilled with the decision. Howard is in his groove on satellite radio, and watching this stuff is totally different than watching his E! show. No commercials. No bleeps. My only complaint is that I have seen more male nudity than female at this point. It seems like once a week Stern has someone getting their balls waxed for something.
So far, I'm thrilled with the decision. Howard is in his groove on satellite radio, and watching this stuff is totally different than watching his E! show. No commercials. No bleeps. My only complaint is that I have seen more male nudity than female at this point. It seems like once a week Stern has someone getting their balls waxed for something.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Brighten Up
In an effort to lift my spirits, I'm going with a brighter appearance here. I'm hoping the cheery effect rubs off on me. And the third column is mind blowing is it not? Let me give you a quick tour...
To the left you have my current favorites in the world of music, television and film. Under that you have a more expanded look at my photos. Over on the right we have my profile, some recent post links, archives and then a couple of links to shit I enjoy. And yes, I am still hawking tee shirts, hence the Poison Scooter link.
There you have it. Feedback welcome, just leave a comment.
To the left you have my current favorites in the world of music, television and film. Under that you have a more expanded look at my photos. Over on the right we have my profile, some recent post links, archives and then a couple of links to shit I enjoy. And yes, I am still hawking tee shirts, hence the Poison Scooter link.
There you have it. Feedback welcome, just leave a comment.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Debbie Gibson
Damn, I used to love this chick. I remember when I was in high school dreaming of her all the time. And by dreaming I do mean jerking off. Here I am on a Friday night, no plans, got work at 7 AM tomorrow and I'm watching VH1 Classics. And Foolish Heart by Debbie Gibson is on. And no, I'm not stroking it or anything. I was just taken aback by the memory of how I felt about Debbie so many years ago. And so I'm sharing.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
All I Got...
I've been lame lately. I admit it. Nothing new is happening in my life. I could tell you that Benchwarmers sucked, but you can tell from the preview. X-Men 3 was shittier than the last two. But who really cares.
I wrote this long post last night about great albums of the last 25 years and this website took a shit on me and didn't save it. I'm not in the mood to rewrite it, so let me just recap the gist.
The Wolfmother CD is fucking amazing. Go buy it.
I wrote this long post last night about great albums of the last 25 years and this website took a shit on me and didn't save it. I'm not in the mood to rewrite it, so let me just recap the gist.
The Wolfmother CD is fucking amazing. Go buy it.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Summer Funk
I had a conversation today at work with one of my employees Tracy, a great chick, who after hearing me state what my weekend was like flat out said "so you are depressed?" I took a beat, soaked it in and thought about it and finally said "kinda."
I try to avoid thinking in terms like depression, my boy Jared shares a similiar opinion, you start thinking about shit like that and the next thing you know you are a pill popping, rainbow farting robot. But we also agree that it would be nice to have access to a medicine to take when the feelings crop up from time to time. I would say that maybe I need to start smoking pot again, but I remember feeling like this when I was on the pot as well. It comes and goes, and right now it comes.
Friday night I sat and drank beer with my buddy Eric for a touch and eventually hit the sack on the early side. No desire to go do anything else, perhaps a warning sign of sorts? Saturday I woke up and immediately hit the gym and worked out for twice the time I usually spend there, perhaps another signal that I'm not quite feeling so great about shit. Saturday night I went to see the Break Up with a couple, and got the hell out of there the minute I could because seeing a movie about people breaking up and then talking about it with a hand holding couple is just too much. (Sidenote: I liked the movie. Vince is my well documented man crush, and Jon Favs and he are the best duo on screen of the modern era.)
Sunday I basically sat in my apartment and stared into space for hours. I read some. I had no desire to go anywhere. I was further sent down the rabbit hole by not being able to connect to the internet all day and night. Eventually around 4 PM I tired of this wallowing and did what any self respecting human would do in this position....I went to Best Buy and bought stuff I don't need. Not like major appliances or anything, just some headphones, Rob Zombie's Greatest Hits, Wolfmother CD, Blender Magazine and Dazed and Confused on DVD. Ah, now I feel much better.
Not.
The point I suppose I am making is that right now I feel like crap. I don't understand why my life can't be more fulfilling and enjoyable. I have been saying for a while that Augusta is kind of limited, okay extremely limited, but I'm not doing anything about it. I need to be more adventurous, I need to do some travelling. Well, I need to stop talking about it and actually fucking do it. Today at work I was plotting out my next course of action, after my jaunt up North at the end of June I'm gonna plot out some weekend getaways. This pretty killer chick I met online (it's not as lame as it sounds) lives in what appears to be a beautiful part of North Carolina, in the mountains and near this big estate called Biltmore. So destination number 1 will be Asheville, NC. Then I want to be a goober and go to Universal Studios in Florida. Hey, the time I feel the best is when I'm watching a movie and escaping my life, so an entire theme park devoted to film might be a santuary of sorts. And then, who knows? But I gotta keep on moving.
Otherwise, this blog is going to become tragic again. And no one wants that. Well, some of you assholes want that, but I hope to not give you the satisfaction. You know who you are Anonymous.
I try to avoid thinking in terms like depression, my boy Jared shares a similiar opinion, you start thinking about shit like that and the next thing you know you are a pill popping, rainbow farting robot. But we also agree that it would be nice to have access to a medicine to take when the feelings crop up from time to time. I would say that maybe I need to start smoking pot again, but I remember feeling like this when I was on the pot as well. It comes and goes, and right now it comes.
Friday night I sat and drank beer with my buddy Eric for a touch and eventually hit the sack on the early side. No desire to go do anything else, perhaps a warning sign of sorts? Saturday I woke up and immediately hit the gym and worked out for twice the time I usually spend there, perhaps another signal that I'm not quite feeling so great about shit. Saturday night I went to see the Break Up with a couple, and got the hell out of there the minute I could because seeing a movie about people breaking up and then talking about it with a hand holding couple is just too much. (Sidenote: I liked the movie. Vince is my well documented man crush, and Jon Favs and he are the best duo on screen of the modern era.)
Sunday I basically sat in my apartment and stared into space for hours. I read some. I had no desire to go anywhere. I was further sent down the rabbit hole by not being able to connect to the internet all day and night. Eventually around 4 PM I tired of this wallowing and did what any self respecting human would do in this position....I went to Best Buy and bought stuff I don't need. Not like major appliances or anything, just some headphones, Rob Zombie's Greatest Hits, Wolfmother CD, Blender Magazine and Dazed and Confused on DVD. Ah, now I feel much better.
Not.
The point I suppose I am making is that right now I feel like crap. I don't understand why my life can't be more fulfilling and enjoyable. I have been saying for a while that Augusta is kind of limited, okay extremely limited, but I'm not doing anything about it. I need to be more adventurous, I need to do some travelling. Well, I need to stop talking about it and actually fucking do it. Today at work I was plotting out my next course of action, after my jaunt up North at the end of June I'm gonna plot out some weekend getaways. This pretty killer chick I met online (it's not as lame as it sounds) lives in what appears to be a beautiful part of North Carolina, in the mountains and near this big estate called Biltmore. So destination number 1 will be Asheville, NC. Then I want to be a goober and go to Universal Studios in Florida. Hey, the time I feel the best is when I'm watching a movie and escaping my life, so an entire theme park devoted to film might be a santuary of sorts. And then, who knows? But I gotta keep on moving.
Otherwise, this blog is going to become tragic again. And no one wants that. Well, some of you assholes want that, but I hope to not give you the satisfaction. You know who you are Anonymous.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Dag.
The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with yourself. - Mark Twain
Yeah, today is a bit of a bummer day. I'm not feeling too great about myself. It occurred to me that I cannot recall the last time someone in my life asked me how I was feeling. Someone that I care about anyway. It's not a huge deal, it's just one of those things that pops into the mind when you are feeling kind of shitty or bored. And I probably wouldn't even think about such a thing unless I was as self aware as I am. What I mean is that I am constantly asking my friends how they are doing, asking if there is anything they need, almost to the point of annoyance I suppose. Karma tells me that if you give you will get, but I'm not so sure about that. Maybe it works in funny ways. I found $5 bill on the ground the other day, maybe that's my payback for being a really supportive and giving friend? Does Karma mean I have to be satisfied with that? A $5 bill?
The reality of this situation is that when you realize that no one asks how you are doing, you start to examine who you are in an effort to determine why. Who, What, Why, blah, blah, blah. I'm making this more complicated than it needs to be. I guess I just grapple with being the friend of convenience sometimes. It would be nice to be the first person called, not always an after thought. It would be nice to give to people and get it back in return. Simple shit really.
Yeah, I get that I'm not always 100% fun. Sometimes I am probably a cramp in people's style. My honesty is my curse. When I am alone to my own thoughts with nowhere to go and no one to see, I start to get uncomfortable. And it leads to stuff like this.
Yeah, today is a bit of a bummer day. I'm not feeling too great about myself. It occurred to me that I cannot recall the last time someone in my life asked me how I was feeling. Someone that I care about anyway. It's not a huge deal, it's just one of those things that pops into the mind when you are feeling kind of shitty or bored. And I probably wouldn't even think about such a thing unless I was as self aware as I am. What I mean is that I am constantly asking my friends how they are doing, asking if there is anything they need, almost to the point of annoyance I suppose. Karma tells me that if you give you will get, but I'm not so sure about that. Maybe it works in funny ways. I found $5 bill on the ground the other day, maybe that's my payback for being a really supportive and giving friend? Does Karma mean I have to be satisfied with that? A $5 bill?
The reality of this situation is that when you realize that no one asks how you are doing, you start to examine who you are in an effort to determine why. Who, What, Why, blah, blah, blah. I'm making this more complicated than it needs to be. I guess I just grapple with being the friend of convenience sometimes. It would be nice to be the first person called, not always an after thought. It would be nice to give to people and get it back in return. Simple shit really.
Yeah, I get that I'm not always 100% fun. Sometimes I am probably a cramp in people's style. My honesty is my curse. When I am alone to my own thoughts with nowhere to go and no one to see, I start to get uncomfortable. And it leads to stuff like this.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I Think I Broke My Tivo
I decided on a whim to set my TIVO to record Game Show Marathon on CBS this week. Whoa. This could be the most poorly conceived and executed concept I have ever witnessed on television. It's essentially C-list celebrities "playing" classic tv game shows. The first episode, which one would assume is the best of the bunch, is The Price Is Right hosted by Ricki Lake. Now if seeing Paige Davis (Trading Spaces host from 2 years ago) trying to win $80,000 in Plinko and come up with a measely $1600 for her charity sounds painful, then you should see Kathy Najimy (from, I don't know Sister Act?) miss a three foot putt that would have netted a $77,000 Caddy convertible. Lance Bass, Tim Meadows and Leslie Neilsen didn't even get to see the fucking stage in this cluster fuck which begs the question, do they get paid for an appearance on this piece of shit regardless? I'm so scared to see how they can pull of Let's Make a Deal with the completely bored studio audience who is unfortunate enough to have to watch these "stars" pretend to understand a game show they have never apparently watched in the first place.
Please kill me.
Please kill me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)