Mix Tape, Sort of...

A couple of weeks ago I got a mix CD constructed by my friend Rob that I have yet to remove from my car's CD player. Rob took the bold step of relocating to San Fran about 10 years ago, and knows full well how this type of move can make you very nostalgic for all the things you inevitably miss. Rob and I have kept in touch many years beyond what anyone probably would have expected, and have always managed to keep a nice dialogue going about music, TV and movies. In our heyday, we were the Siskel and Ebert of the bike courier, pot smoking and Milwakuee's Best swilling crowd we conspired with. What's kind of nifty about this mix CD is that Rob and I have rarely ever seen eye to eye on music. We both have eclectic tastes, but Rob usually takes its one step further. Sure, we both admire Rufus Wainwright and God Speed You Black Emporer, but for the most part we are miles apart musically. So the fact that I cannot stop listening to this CD fascinates me.

The feeling of getting a mix CD is always kind of nice. Knowing that someone took the time to construct something with you in mind is validating, at least for me. I find myself sometimes so deep in thought about our common experiences in college, or just about what I'm experiencing now while I'm listening that sometimes I forget to make the right turn I meant to make to get where I'm going. Behold the power of music! Anyhow...

Rob took the time expose me to some music I wouldn't have otherwise heard or sought out, especially since my life is void of XPN or any sort of interesting radio station here in Augusta. So I figure the least I could do is try to describe what these bands or songs sound like and share what I can with you all.

Track 1 - City Of Brother Love by Cass McCombs
This song obviously plays on the commonality of our former lives in Philadelphia. This guy has a very Robyn Hitchcock-esque quality that reminds me of 120 Minutes on MTV in the late 80's.

Track 2 - The Bones of an Idol by The New Pornographers
I was vaguely familiar with this band's work on Mass Romantic, but I wouldn't say I was all that impressed. I guess Neko Case vocalizing makes all the difference. Again, a very heavy 80's vibe permeates throughout this track and that makes me giggle.

Track 3 - UFO Sighting by Sufjan Stevens
Sufjan is the man. Very simple, very pretty.

Track 4 - Boundary Radar by The Go-Betweens
Ah, the real 80's nugget. Although this is a song from a very recent record, the Go-Betweens are Australian Indie at it's finest. A nerdy Love and Rockets as I call them.

Track 5 - You Say You Lie by The Ravonettes
Another band I heard tons about, but never really was interested. This song is perfect for driving.

Track 6 - Dead In Love by Desert Sessions
Holy fuck! How did I never hear about this shit. Josh Homme (Queen of the Stone Age frontman) put together this side project that features multiple volumes and a revolving cast of rockers like Eleven's singer who features on this track with Homme. I kept thinking to myself this sounds like QOTSA, so much so I had to look this shit up on the internet.

Track 7 - Gates of Steel by Devo
Ha. Devo is great.

Track 8 - The Bronze by Queens of the Stone Age
Ah, these guys always put a smile on my face.

Track 9 - Crowned in Chrome by Crooked Fingers
Another surprise...I was never a fan of Archers of Loaf and this solo work by their lead singer is not as bad as I would have imagined.

Track 10 - Held by (Smog)
They can't all be gems. This track kind of blows.

Track 11 - For One Moment by Lee Hazlewood
This song is from yesteryear and I like to consider it the best hangover song ever.

Track 12 - Find Me, Rueben Olivares by Mark Kozelek
The Red House Painters reminds me of a girl I once knew. And this song by the lead singer from one of his solo albums now reminds me of her.

Track 13 -I Summon You by Spoon
Everyone talks about Spoon being the next big thing...I once told a Spoon fan that if I haven't heard of them by now (they've been around forever) then they ain't worth knowing. I was way wrong.

Track 14 - California by Low
Slow, harmonic, rhythmic....this is Low.

Track 15 - When The Day Is Short by Martha Wainwright
She ain't no Rufus, but then again she ain't no Loudon.

Track 16 - Lightbulb by Call and Response
This track is bouncy and so fun. America's answer to Stereolab!

Track 17 - all you need is hate by the Delgados
This Scottish band is equal parts Flaming Lips, Wilco and to a lesser extent Ween. And it works. I love songs with Timpani prominently featured.

Track 18 - On The Table by AC Newman
The dude from the New Pornographers is annoying looking, and as such I've avoided his solo work like the plague. But it's good. At least this track is anyway.

Track 19 - Huddle Formation by The Go! Team
Hipster stuff from England. A mash up of cheerleading chants, hip hop beats and a little dance music sprinkled in makes me want to dance. Or cheer. Whatever. Me likey.

Track 20 - Hit The City by Mark Lanegan Band
Love this man. Heroin habit and all.

Track 21 - A Touch Sensitive by Super Furry Animals
Never imagined that this is how this band would sound. It's kind of DJ Shadow-ish. Hypnotic instrumental.

Track 22 - Winners by Desert Sessions
The joke track by Josh Homme's side project. Some announcer reads off "winners" names from your high school yearbook. Rob knows I love sarcasm.

Track 23 - Southern Girls by Cheap Trick
Not the strongest Cheap Trick track, but the Southern sentiment is not lost on me.

There you have it. A musical journey. Thanks Rob.

You and Me and Everyone We Know

This is a little IFC gem that I heard about when it was in limited release back 6 or so months ago. It plays like a Todd Solondz movie but with the feminine touch of it's lead actress, writer and director Miranda July. Critically lauded, but not seen by many this is a piece of art about the human desire to connect with some very discomforting scenes interspliced to add a very dramatic sense of realness. The creepy shoe salesman who thinks he wants to coax some neighborhood teenage girls into a threesome, a 7 year old engaging in ass play themed instant messaging with a woman in her late 30's and the freakishly mature 10 year old girl who is collecting items (like a hand mixer or new shower curtain) for her dowdry and saving them in a hope chest are the roadside attractions on this journey about Richard and Christine's road to love.


I wouldn't call this a romantic comedy, although the overall theme is romantic and there are some laughs, albeit somewhat uncomfortable ones, along the way. It's more of an exploration of how desperate we get when we hit a point in our life when we feel incomplete because we cannot find out soul mate. Christine is fiercely brave in her approach towards making Richard notice her, and relentlessly pursues him because he is the one. I admired her vunerability while alone and her reckless behavior while around Richard, and completely sympathized with the emotional roller coaster it is to just have this crazy, overwhelming "feeling" about someone despite the fact that as Richard says in one memorable scene, they could be a "killer of small children."

Above and beyond the enjoyment I had watching the movie continually take it up to another level from scene to scene, I became completely mesmerized by Miranda July. Very unconventionally cute, like 1 part Rachel Griffiths and 1 part this girl I knew in college that none of you fucking know. Ha.

That's How I Feel!

It's odd where I find symbolism these days. I'll be watching a TV show or listening to a song I've heard a million times and at that very moment something connects. It's fucked to find comfort in a Papa Roach song, but so be it.

Not Fair

I always had a bad impression of what a county or state fair was like. I imagined gross people, odd smells, sad looking animals, tractors and carnival rides. Having now attended my first fair, I'm pleased to report I was exactly fucking right. The fair is in town and I figured I should at least make an effort to broaden my horizons. So I got up today and decided to head to the fair. Now, admittedly the fair is probably an experience you need to have with someone or someones, so going alone was not my smartest move. I wasn't too excited for it, so I didn't want to drag anyone else into the fold and have to spend more time than I wanted to. But yeah, sad seal lions sleeping, smelly cows, funnel cake, it was as crappy as you think it's going to be. I snapped a few pictures, but nothing I'm very happy with. I was hoping it would have been more country I guess. It all seemed rather pathetic and therefore didn't stimulate my eye.

Jarhead

It's been a long time, relatively speaking, since I went to the movies. So long in fact that I can't recall what movie it was I saw? Today, my one day off in a run of working 10 of 11 days, I decided to unwind and go see something. Since my desire to see movies has subsided lately, mostly due to the fact that everything that comes out looks like shit, I didn't really care what movie I saw. I liked American Beauty a lot, but didn't care for Road to Perdition, so it's not like I'm a Sam Mendes fan. Considering that he is married to Kate Winslet, who I adore, that's almost reason enough for me to boycott his latest directorial offering Jarhead.

However, I liked the idea of a movie that focuses on the first Gulf War now that we have some perspective on it and one that doesn't play out like Three Kings (a great movie, but a little on the Oceans 11 tip) hopefully. Jake Gyllenhaal is an actor that I like but can't seem to figure out why. It's not like his resume is uber impressive, and he is on again/off again banging one of my potential wives in Kirsten Dunst which makes me hate him a little bit, but he has such a great way of playing these understated thinkers. The Good Girl, Donnie Darko, even his role in The Day After Tomorrow were all slightly off center, deep guys and he emotes a lot of things through his facial expressions. Jarhead offers him an opportunity to once again strut out the pouty faces and the quiet, tortured guy routine to it's desired effect. And it works.

What really separates this movie from other war movies is the lack of any real war taking place. The movie is about the boredom of waiting for an actual ground war that never happens. If you recall from our first foray into Iraq, we basically blew them up from the air for a couple days and it was all over. The guys who were trained to kill never got a shot and basically jerked off and waited for a Dear John letter to show up from their girlfriend or wife back home while roasting in the desert, or at least that is what Anthony Swofford, author and veteran, wants you to think took place. It's a tad difficult to have a movie come out about the Gulf War while 2000 kids have died in Iraq during the most recent war and not have it make you think about the situation we are in. But the movie isn't set up to make you sympathize with any one except the Jarheads, the Marines who are there to fight for our country whether they want to or not. This is an exploration of men, not a dissection of the war and for that reason I liked it. The soundtrack and score add some drama and intensity that the war never gets a chance to, and the visuals of the vastness of the desert are stunning.

Full Metal Jacket is the closest comparison I could make for this flick. The basic training sequence plays out quicker in this film, and there is less blood shed (obviously), but the tone is very similar. Examining the psyche of a 20 year old who willingly joins the Corps is risky, especially when the back drop is a war that wasn't really a war and is an afterthought at this point, but Mendes and company do a nice job.

Ah, thankfully nothing too damaging...

The snapshots tell a story.

Wall of Sound

Let me preface this by saying that drinking on an empty stomach is not a wise decision. Last night was Jucifer at the Soulbar. If you don't know who Jucifer is, don't feel bad. I had no clue either. They are apparently a husband and wife duo that plays REALLY loud "music" and look extremely wacky while doing it. It not metal-exactly, more like art rock I suppose. But it's insanely fucking loud, to the point that I can't recall any real melody just a constant hum of the wall of amps that they use for one guitar, that SHE plays by the way. It's like White Stripes in reverse, but with the volume turned way up and the vocals turned way down. I saw her mouth moving, but I can honestly say I didn't hear a voice. Again, that hum was overwhelming. I guess standing 6 inches from the stage wasn't the best location, but what can I say....

Anyway, I did some hearty pre-gaming at the Firehouse before the midnight show and that Jager shot was probably the straw the broke the camel's back. Once the band played, the rest of the night became an incredible blur. I vaguely recall walking to bars at the other end of town, taking pictures like a Japanese tourist and getting a ride home at some point. I even watched Survivor at 3 AM and can't recall one frame of the episode. Getting up for work at 9 AM was awesome.

Back to the pictures thing, I took out the camera last night and I have 102 snap shots in the process of uploading to my computer as I type this. Huh? 102? I can't wait to piece the night together. Ha.

Square One

MP3 collection firmly restored has allowed me to reconnect with Coldplay's latest album X&Y. These guys write extremely melodic, catchy tunes that I find myself never tiring from hearing. Aside from that, the lyrics on this disc are quite comforting to me these days. In particular the tune Square One that is the opening track is one that I turn to as a way of summing up a lot of my feelings throughout a day like today.

You're in control, is there anywhere you wanna go?
You're in control, is there anything you wanna know?
The future's for discovering
The space in which we're travelling
From the top of the first page
To the end of the last day
From the start in your own way
You just want somebody listening to what you say
It doesn't matter who you are
It doesn't matter who you are

Under the surface trying to break through
Deciphering the codes in you
I need a compass, draw me a map
I'm on the top, I can't get back

Whoa whoa

The first line on the first page
To the end of the last page
From the start in your own way
You just want somebody listening to what you say
It doesn't matter who you are
It doesn't matter who you are

You just want
Somebody listening to what you say
Oh, you just want somebody listening to what you say
It doesn't matter who you are
It doesn't matter who you are

Is there anybody out there who
Is lost and hurt and lonely too
Are they bleeding all your colours into one?
and if you come undone
As if you've been run through
Some catapult it fired you
You wonder if your chance will ever come
Or if you're stuck in square one

I don't want to go on and on about this, but I'll just say that songs that can verbalize, er vocalize the thoughts that bounce around my head make me feel less like a freak from outer space and more like everyone else.

Kinda Bummerish, And Other Junk

After a rather tiring day at work I am currently sitting here sipping Kiwi Strawberry Crystal Light from a wine glass and contemplating why on earth I cannot seem to win a fantasy football match up. I just read the news about Jason Bateman having throat surgery and it reminded me that I need to get Joolie to mail back discs 2 and 3 from season 2 of Arrested Development so I can get a Netflix rental up in here. I'm in a stretch of working 7 out of 8 days and will hopefully use the time wisely to get myself prepared for the impending holidays. Speaking of which I'm not "off" again until after XMAS and that prospect seems kind of frightening, if for no other reason than I fear I may burn out or have heart failure.

In other disappointing news, I am now realizing that my upcoming birthday is on par to be the lamest ever. Let me explain. There are only a handful of people that I would call my inner circle here in the GA and 2 of them are heading up North on my birthday I guess to get an early start on Thanksgiving. Lame. Thankfully Joolie is only working until 9 PM that day, so at the very least I will have her to help me drown my sorrows as I get another year closer to death. Not that I am unhappy about having Joolie there, I just wish there was going to be more fanfare surrounding the blessed event.

In lighter news, I failed to mention that after much despair I now have recovered my beloved MP3 collection thanks to Brother Mike who sent down an external hard drive loaded with songs this past weekend. I'm back up to 5000 in ITunes and it's such a comfort to have more than the same 10 choices. Sufjan Stevens, I missed you.

Fine. You win.

Another fucking layout change Skip? You must be joking.

No I'm not. Apparently I wiped out the ability for my faithful readers to leave me comments when I converted over to the former design and since I'm HTML retarded, all I could do is pick another, simpler layout that allowed me to restore commenting. So my logo is unfortunately a thing of the past. Not many folks knew it was a picture of me as a kid anyway. And it had a creepy kiddie porn vibe to it I think. So bye-bye logo.

Ok. So now that I gave the people back their voice, I'll be expecting you to contribute.

Breathe

A furious 48 hour visit from the gang has done exactly what I expected it to do. I'm achey, hungover-ish, happy and sad all at once. We didn't do much besides drink, but I can't recall any other time where we did anything but just that.


Friday: Walk down Broad Street, a trek that takes all of 10 minutes, and then we hit up some lunch and bought supplies in the grocery store. And by supplies I mean beer. Drink, drink, drink...wine soaked Razor phone, Brother Dan kills 2 bottles of wine and requires lengthy nap, join forces with Syd, Tena and Liz for an ill fated Haunted House visit, Philly crew adorns Poison Scooter shirts to become Poison Scooter Army, minimal dancing at Soul Bar until I lose my cool yet again, press on to Firehouse and show the kids how the other half live. Met up with Eric who invites us to his house on Saturday for BBQ.

Saturday: Amass around 1 PM at my abode, meet up with Joolie, hit up Fresh Market for BBQ ingredients, roll to Eric's house and proceed to cook food for 20 on the world's smallest and slowest cooking grill, drink, drink, drink, freeze a little as the onset of night approaches, come back into town for naps, drink, drink, drink, see Tena and Syd in costumes when the stop by to treat me, roll to 1102 for a spell, then close down Pizza Joint with slices at 2 AM.

It's was brief, but much needed. I spent a lot of time with my sister Malia who stayed at my place and got to experience the woman that she has become. Brother Dan and his lady Rose was also nice to see, I'm happy that he is in love and he seems more than happy about being in love. And of course, Kevin and Noele are like the brother and sister I want to sleep with most. Kevin was coerced into becoming a Poison Scooter model because he's a fucking stud. And Noele, well Noele is just perfect, always smiling and being the sweetest chick I know. It's only been a few hours, but I miss these fuckers big time already.

Visitors
BBQ
Costume Craziness

False Start

I had high hopes today of putting together some stellar Halloween costume, but no dice. I lost my inspiration as soon as I hit the costume store. I was thinking Leatherface this year, but my fucking glasses always get in the way. I took the easy way out and bought some freaky teeth at Target.

In anticipation of visitors I had to go out and get some odds and ends like wine glasses today hence the Target visit. I was also considering replacing my Sony Cybershot camera that busted a few months ago, but ultimately said "fuck it" on that issue as well. I guess I'm just not in the mood to spend money. I did manage to get the necessary supplies for this weekend however.

1. Halloween candy and stupid Pumpkin plastic candy container.
2. Toilet paper.
3. Bottled water.

Considering I had procured the boat load of wine a few days ago and that my legions are bringing with them I'm sure some sort of alcohol, the above pretty much completes the puzzle. I'm very ready for a "LOST WEEKEND" and hope that my old body doesn't quit on me somewhere in the middle.

The plan is starting to take shape, spend Friday night doing the rounds at the local watering holes. Saturday afternoon could be spent at a BBQ at Joolie's boo's house, and then we have the Haunted House on Reynolds Street. Ah, who cares? We'll figure it out I'm sure.

Almost

I'm slowly recovering from my recent onset of Ebola virus or whatever the hell it is. God damn it can get cold here. It's in the 30s tonight. WTF? I thought Georgia was like 100 degrees all year long? I just have one more day to get through at work this week and then I'm home free for a nice 4 day weekend. And this weekend I have my first taste of visitors. I guess I better think of something for them to do while they visit?

Well, as expected my van full of people has dwindled considerably. I've been avoiding visiting people for many years now, so I'm not shocked in the least. I'm just happy that someone, anyone is still bothering to make the trek. I'll be happy with the group that is intact at this moment (assuming more people don't bail out by Thursday..) which consists of Brother Dan, his lady Rose, Kevin and Noele (aka the hottest couple in the world) and my sister Malia. In lieu of actually planning out anything for while they are here, I've just bought copious amounts of wine. I figured I can get them all drunk and they won't want to bother with seeing anything, or rather realizing that there is nothing to see here in Augusta.

To be fair there is quite a bit happening here this weekend. Friday night is the 10th anniversary party for the Soul Bar, my local dancing and swilling spot. And Saturday night is Disco Hell O Ween there as well. And of course, Bloodfest 12 is happening all day Saturday. Hmm, maybe Bloodfest isn't exactly the kind of event I should take people to? In any case, I don't think I care what we do since I just want to hang out and get drunk.

Annie Duke

Hottest mother of 5 ever. Best woman poker player. Just found out she listens to the White Stripes in her headphones while playing in poker tournaments. Man, I want her. Now.

A change in the weather...

Fall is upon us here in Georgia finally. The days are still a sunny 75, but the nights have brought a chill on that has made me sick. I've been steadily rocking my ceiling fans all the while and realized today when I woke up to a scratchy, sore throat that the constant spinning may have made me get sick. So it's Tylenol Sore Throat and bad television for me today. Having worked all weekend, I feel extremely unguilty about calling out today.

The sick does give me some time to think about all the stuff that is going on with me right now. I'm digesting the concept of Joolie seriously dating someone, some would even argue that I'm accepting it rather well. I would love to find fault in the guy, but I just can't. Although I'm scared that this is the situation I've been dreading since I moved here, being slowly pushed out of Joolie's life for someone who is better for her than I am, part of me is willing to have this experience just to see if Joolie is the great friend that I portray her to be all the time. I'm caustioulsy optimistic that we have developed a pretty tight friendship that will survive many ups and downs. I have been down this road before in my life and managed to fuck it up royally on more than one ocassion. Relishing the opportunity to make this time different is something that I want to be strong enough to embrace.

In focusing on my own plight, I am forced to accept the fact that I'm crazy about someone myself. It's not as easy for me as it is for Joolie, but I am more confident in my actions. More so than I have been. I feel that at this time in my life, I am more equipped than ever to deal with any rejection that might head my way. But I'm extremely hopeful/cocky that I will not be rejected if I just continually prove myself. What I think separates me from most guys is that I think about the small things, I outwardly show concern and passion for those that I'm interested in. My only concern is that I'm wasting my time on someone who is too immature. It's funny how the heart works. You can't really control the feelings you possess. Am I setting myself up for the big hurt? Let's hope not. But here's the thing...

Usually I would overthink shit and sabotage something before it begins based on my lack of self esteem or confidence. I've done this over and over again the last few years. Not anymore. I have decided that I am in a sink or swim situation, especially if Joolie finds love and I'm left to my own devices. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not looking to play games. I want to find happiness. And if that means I have to hit some speed bumps along the way, then I'll do it for the good of the fight. I just need to stay the course, keep chipping away and make her mine.

It starts innocently enough...

Dinner with Joolie's parents/grandparents was enjoyable. Fine food, wine and good conversation capped off by a little more conversation with the parents back at Joolie's crib. They are kind of what I expected, extremely nice Lancaster County people. Rick was very personable which I wasn't expecting and Adele was funny in a very non-intentional sort of way. Seeing Joolie be "mothered" was a delightful time and I'm very happy I was asked to join them for dinner.

After a few hours of conversation, Joolie was clawing the walls eager to go out and meet up with a fella. After a quick stop at my house for some more alcohol, we make our way to this local Punk Rock hangout called Sector 7G. Imagine if you will a place where everyone appears to be about 16 and me. Besides feeling incredibly old and out of place, I was not feeling exactly great from eating restaurant food. Fast forward to a few beers later and I kind of forgot about my stomach and enjoyed myself for a change. I was able to be around Joolie and her new man friend (a really nice guy actually) without getting all psycho-ish and protective. Maybe the fact that I was spending copious amounts of time with Punk Rock Junkie helped? Yep, the girl re-emerged and turned my night upside down as she is prone to do. It's pretty much an alcohol fueled blur, one that haunted my entire work day today. 4 hours sleep and a 9 hour day at the office has put me down tonight. It's 8:30 PM and I feel like I could sleep for a week.

Can't Sleep

It's kind of late, not that I have work tomorrow or anything, but I do have to go to work in the AM since I have a key in my pocket that is needed to unlock a very necessary cabinet. Today was pretty laid back and relaxing, minus the vacuuming at Joolie's apartment which I feared was going to cause me scoliosis. With Joolie's folks making their way to visit, her and I took a quick run to the local screen printer in the AM before they arrived. Our goal was to establish a much needed local relationship with a facility that can handle our Poison Scooter needs. I'm pleased to report that the visit to Kathie's T's was a success in that we got a decent quote and some very important questions answered. I'm looking to place a significant order on Monday barring any set backs for some very amazing shirts. The buzz around our Here Comes Trouble design is encouraging...

After our meeting with Mr. Kathie (who could be a pervy religious freak based on the conversation we had with him) we moseyed over to Big K to grab some cleaning supplies for Joolie's semi-annual back bathroom scrub down. I'm kind of thankful her parents are here, forcing her to clean that awful bathroom that her cat has turned into a giant litter box. The stank is intense in that joint and a good scrubbing seemed to have done the job. Since her folks called with an earlier than expected ETA on their arrival, I stepped it up and helped clean up her pad to give the impression that she is living the "clean" life I suppose. Which brings me to the amazingly short and broken handled vacuum that was fit for a hunchback. Mental note: Joolie needs a vacuum cleaner for her birthday. (just kidding)

I split the scene before the big arrival and spent the rest of the afternoon watching my "shows" on DVR. And fulfilling orders and folding shirts for PS. Looking back, I guess I didn't really accomplish anything of value today. And that may be why I'm so awake now....

Oh. I did buy a CD from ITunes. Does that count as doing something? This Bird Has Flown is the 40th Anniversary tribute album of the Beatles' Rubber Soul and it's quite good. There are a lot of artists on it that I enjoy, such as Sufjan Stevens, Ted Leo, Ben Lee, Mindy Smith, Low, The Donnas, Rhett Miller and Ben Kweller. And since it's the Beatles, I know I like the songs. Couldn't go wrong for $9.99.

Tomorrow I am considering seeing a movie which is something I haven't done in ages. Not sure what it'll be, I guess I'll surprise myself. And then I'm going to partake for a bit in the pumpkin carving ceremony that is apparently taking place in my foyer tomorrow evening. And then? Well, I'm not sure....but I'm going to do something dammit. And I'm sure you'll hear all about it.

The Beast from the Sea

I'm sorry, it's tough to take a Hurricane named Wilma seriously. I mean c'mon now.

Visitors

Not sure what it is about October, but it appears that everyone I know that relocated to Georgia is expecting a visit in the next week or so, including me. Yeah! Joolie's folks and grandparents are in town tomorrow for a long weekend. Having been a resident here for a couple months I have no idea what old folks are going to do here for that long. But having her folks come will make Joolie happy, even if she is mad that she is missing out on a show in Atlanta and spending time with her new man friend. I'm looking forward to meeting her parents, I am fascinated by "where" people come from. And I usually get along famously with my friend's parents. I'm like Skippy Handleman in that way.

Next up, Sydney's Mom aka the coolest witch I know is coming back to visit again on Monday. I'm really happy for Syd to have her Mom come because I know she needs to have her here for a little while just to tell her it's going to be alright. I try my best to convince her that she'll survive in Augusta, but we all need to hear it from family on occasion.

And then it's my turn. Next week I have Brother Dan and my sister Malia coming in with a bunch of other friends to bring this town to it's knees. My boy Kevin is leading the charge and is super excited to come down, so I'm really anxious to see familiar faces and forget about all the crap that I think about all the time. We will just drink and be merry for the weekend.

Her

I've made a decision that she will be mine.

I know what I have to offer her and I'm not going to relent until she realizes that I'm good enough to be with her. I've spent too much time sitting back and doing nothing. It's my turn to go all out. You have to go big or go home.

What's the worst that could happen?

Well, she could crush me and my hopes for starters. And then make it extremely difficult to get up in the morning and face another day. The reality is that I feel like that most of the time anyway, without her help.

I'm determined to play things differently this time around. No more being a pushover. No more dancing around the topic. I'm going to sweep her off her feet. Make her realize that there is nothing more in the world I want than to make her laugh, smile, feel safe.

If I fail, then at least I went out swinging. Right?

If this doesn't work out, I know I have Joolie to comfort me when I'm crushed.

Ch-Ch-Changes

New design for the blog. Obviously. I like it.

Lots of Poison Scooter work today. Stickers arrvived, so now we get to plaster the city of Augusta with them. Bunch of orders came in, mainly from friends and family, which is cool. Finalizing two new designs and getting them off to the printer this week.

I'm off this Thursday and Friday instead of Saturday and Sunday which will be odd. Guess I'll see what this town has to offer on a Thursday night for a change of pace.

Together Alone

Well, well, well...

80's night will probably become a phrase I use to describe evenings of intense emotions and situations from this point forward. I took last month's night off and went to Atlanta, so it's been 60 days since my last experience and I had forgotten what this event does to me. It's like a werewolf and the full moon. I somehow always seem to go crazy on this one particular night. The rest of the month is as normal as can be.

In any case, I have come to the conclusion that by spending so much time with Joolie that we are both in dire need of getting laid. Let me clarify before you all start reading into this comment. My connection to Joolie is unlike any relationship I've had with a female; and I try extremely hard all the time not to fuck it up. The way I'm molded, I have serious issues with jealousy and self esteem...and to suppress them takes a huge amount of effort on my part. We get along, at least on the surface we do. Underneath it all I sometimes think that she feels a little smothered by me, and rightly so. I fail to make friends and therefore I rely heavily on her for my social outlets here in Augusta. Last night I was slighted by her and reacted like a fucking 2 year old when I showed up at her house a bit tipsy. The rest of the evening we spent drinking and cavorting like two peas in a pod, but I think it is becoming quite clear that neither of us is very happy here even when we are doing fun things together. This is my opinion mind you, and I've been known to be quite wrong on many, many things. I recall at some point, while blindingly drunk, deciding to have some type of heart to heart with her about who know's what and this is usually where I fuck up most of my relationships with people. Alcohol impairs judgment. It's on the label for fuck's sake.

The way I see it, the more time I spend with her and the more I tune out the rest of the world, the more I will intensify my feelings for her, zone in on making her my #1 priority and most likely scare her to the point that she will have to quit her job or frantically move back to PA. Now this would suck royally because I can't imagine my life right now without her in it. Maybe this is the gist of what we discussed last night? Although it may have come out differently from my slurring mouth. Essentially I need to find someone to formulate a relationship with, or fuck if you will, to reduce the pressure I feel like I am putting on Joolie. Or she needs to find some guy to make her happy here, and slowly push me off to the side and help me accept my role in her life as "really great friend." The way things are now, we both seem to be what I call Together Alone a lot. We spend lots of time in our own heads, thinking and worrying about so many aspects of our life and the uncertainty and unpredictability of what lies ahead. It's great that we can rely on each other when we need a lift...again, I'm making assumptions here that Joolie feels the same way in that she appreciates that I care for her. But at the same time we never seem to just both be enjoying ourselves at the same time for very long. I went through some severe funk, as you may recall, and Joolie helped me through it all in her very unique, non-judgmental and reserved way. Now that she is funking out a bit, I feel obliged to return the favor and be a cheerleader, which I'm not certain is working. All I want is for her to be happy here, and for us to be the best friends we can be. Not fucking that up is going to be a real challenge for me, but I just hope she can overlook my oaflike behavior and see that everything I do and say comes from a good place.

Adding to an already odd evening, a girl that I basically cut out of my life a few weeks back charmed me into overlooking her faults and we appear to be working on being friends again. The same reasons I decided to eliminate her from my world are still there (the worthless boyfriend, the shallow relationships with men who view her only as a sex object and the puppy dog face that she uses to get people to give in to her) but since I'm trying to make things work here, I'm not going to focus so much on how fucked up I think she is and just keep up my guard a little.

I have thought long and hard about what went wrong between us and how we arrived at a place where I decided it was necessary to stop speaking to each other. What I came up with is that leaving behind a boyfriend in Philadelphia puts her in a bad place from time to time. I think this chick is basically missing the physical part of her relationship and attempts to gain some of the illusion of it by being touchy feely with me and perhaps I mistake that for a connection that is deeper than it is. I came to the conclusion that in her defense, I cannot imagine what it would be like to make this type of move in my life and have someone that I love be back in my old town and not here with me. We started the evening not having said more than 10 words to each other in weeks and ended it lying in bed discussing all the things that we have been through in the past couple of weeks we weren't speaking. Time heals all wounds I suppose. It's incredibly comforting to have someone just lay there in the dark and talk to me. Even if we are both just filling a void.

The bottom line I suppose it that I prefer Together Alone to plain old fucking useless Alone. I'm back to being grateful that I have some people in my life here that I think are amazing. The women I find myself constantly dancing, drinking, laughing, playing and working with are very special people and I need to remember that instead of always looking for a reason to be a sour puss or the wounded emo bitch. Things could be a lot worse, I could be a hermit with zero friends or blind or unfunny.

New and Improved Skip Still Thriving

Well I'm sure some of you miss the wine and cheese that you grown accustomed to from me, but this new attitude thing is sticking. I'm preoccupied a lot of the time with work demands and then focusing my energies on the tee shirt thing, so that doesn't leave me much time for bitching and moaning. I would like to comment on a few interesting factoids just for kicks this evening.

1. Did you know that you don't have to get your car inspected in Georgia?

Amazing. I went to go change over my registration to GA and $38 later I walked out with a license plate and a registration document. I don't have to pay nothing until my birthday in 2006. Huh? There has to be a catch I'm overlooking? $20 for a license and $38 for a plate....and that's it? Word.

2. Nothing is open on the Lord's day here.

Sundays are so fucking pathetic in this part of the country that I'm surprised the suicide rate isn't higher. I guess the folks here just procreate on that day instead.

3. Miller High Life is the champagne of beers.

Seriously.

4. I'm mega concerned about Elizabethtown sucking royal ass.

The reviews are all over the place on Cameron Crowe's latest flick. I'm sure the soundtrack is boss, but I'm worried.

5. My hair is getting long.

I've been really gun shy about walking into the local hair butchery and taking my chances down here, so I've forgone actually worrying about the mop. Now I'm starting to look like Prefontaine and shit. Only bigger. While interviewing a lady today at work she mentioned that she used to sell hair products in this area for a living and I asked her opinion on where to go to get a trusting cut. To be continued.

6. The work schedule thing is no better than what it was in Philly.

Smoke and mirrors. All the promises of normalcy when I moved are out the window. We are down two Supervisors and haven't hired anyone in 3 months to replace the first guy who split. I'm officially back to working random shifts and days (including weekends) and hating every minute of it. It's like a big see saw as well. I had to get some accommodation on some days I need of later this month for a visit from my peeps and in the process fucked up Joolie's days off since we essentially at 2 members of a 5 person team. Something has got to give.

7. Response to Poison Scooter is tepid at best.

I was counting on my friends, family and loyal readership to come through and buck up when the shirt thing launched and I've been underwhelmed at the response. C'est le vie I suppose. I'm going to press on regardless of the support I am receiving because it's fun, Joolie is an amazing talent and I'm certain we can make something of this on a larger scale. George Michael says "You Gotta Have Faith" and I'm thinking he's right.

8. Am I really on the verge of turning 34?

I have conversations at work all the time about husbands, wives, kids, pregnancy, home ownership, etc. and they continue to sound like concepts I'll never grasp. I'm such a fucking kid. I swear. I dress like a 16 year old and act like 20 year old. When am I going to grow up?

9. 80's night is tonight.

I always look forward to 80's night for the nostalgia aspect. The music comforts me. The dancing makes me forget about everything that is wrong with me or my life. I get in the zone and just forget about all the bullshit. God Bless 80's Night.

10. My cooking skills have deteriorated since I've moved.

I had the chance to make dinner for Joolie for the first time to celebrate our shirts arriving and I stumbled. I over cooked the mash 'taters and the corn on the cob like a fucking rookie. I was beginning to think that Joolie thought I lied about being able bodied in the kitchen. She ate it up like a good soldier, but I'm sure she was thinking "this ain't no Mickey D's."

Put Up or Shut Up

The time has come. The shirts are in. If you want one, email me @ poisonscooter@gmail with your size and I'll invoice you. $15 gets you the shirt below on your doorstep in under a week. Paypal does the work.

Yum.



The lovely Joolie Poison modeling the freshest gear from Poison Scooter.

Insane or Smart?

Who remembers Harvey Danger? I suppose they would be considered a one hit wonder of sorts from the mid-90's.

Paranoia, paranoia, they're coming to get me...

Anyway, apparently they are still around and making what appears to be decent music. I actually liked there stuff back in the day, so it was easy for me to give the new stuff have a chance. What's interesting about them is that they are self releasing their new album right to the internet for free. Huh? Sure, they are putting out in stores for sale and all, but you can go here and get it via direct download or bit torrent right now if you want. For nothing.

Why you ask? Well, they go into detail here about their reasoning, some of which I completely agree with. Having been on a major record label in the music industry in my past I can tell you first hand that the artist sees little money from record sales anyway, so I say go for it. The way bands make money is shows, through ticket sales and merchandise. How do you get people to your show? Get them to hear your shit and like it enough to come. Simple.

FedEx Rocks?

Our first batch of tee shirts have arrived for Poison Scooter and I'm ready to start getting the word out there. Getting them was a slight ordeal, but I'm shocked to say that I was overwhelmed by the customer service of FedEx. First of all, the company that made our shirts left a vital digit off my mailing address, so the driver who orignally had the package called me on his cell phone and gave me a head's up that he couldn't figure out my address. Furthermore, he provided me with his cell phone number to call him back when I got the message. Rather than disturb this guy, I called FedEx customer service without a tracking number and they were able to locate the package in question based on me answering a couple of easy questions. They then told me that would re-route the package to the correct address. Easy enough. Well, the new delivery date conflicted with work, so the new driver again called me and provided his cell phone number for me to call him back when I got the message. Again, rather than bother the driver I called customer service and again they located my package with no tracking number as easy as pie. I asked to pick up the box today at the terminal rather than wait around for a driver and they said that was fine and provided me the location of the facility holding my package. This morning the terminal holding the package called me to confirm that I was coming by to grab the box and I indicated I was planning on it. I was completely shocked that I was at a shipping and recieving facility not a pick up location for customers and the people there helped me locate my package which was neatly tucked off to the side for me to come get it. At this point I'm thinking, man FedEx is going out of it's way to help me....that's cool as hell. Then I get home and check my voicemail and it's a guy apologizing for "FedEx's mistake" in not being able to deliver the package, a courtesy call to make sure I got the package at the facility. Huh? What company does this? Proactively calling customers and taking responsibility for mistakes that they didn't even make. Unheard of. The bottom line is that FedEx totally rocks.

Tuesday Night Drunk

Nothing like getting tipsy on a Tuesday night. I decided that I wasn't going to waste a day off from work by sitting in and doing nothing, so I ventured out alone tonight. Spent a couple hours being creepy guy at the bar until I got Joolie to come by after work and join me for a beer. Drank a little more than I bargained for, but managed to meet a couple decent guys that Joolie has befriended here. I told myself I was going to be less judgmental of people in an effort to make friends, and I think I did that tonight.

I am slightly concerned about how many "dudes" Joolie knows in this town already, but deep down I don't care. There is just something about her that makes me love her unconditionally. It's not like she's my girlfriend and I'm constantly meeting guys she has hooked up with. However, since I do think she is amazing and possibly the most incredible person I have ever met, I can't help but wish that there were less instances of her being in a bar where there are 10 patrons and she has kissed half of them.

I'm probably out of line even talking about this tonight because I'm drunk and that is the worst time to start writing shit down. I am trying really hard to be someone who cares, but doesn't care too much. You know? Even mentioning this shit tonight makes me seem like I care too much. And that's scary. And I'll most likely have to explain it down the line...

Piss Off

So I bought this doormat from work that says Piss Off for like 7 bucks. I like it, although it comes off as slightly unfriendly I suspect to my neighbors. Oh well. And for some reason I thought I needed a floating shelf for my living room. That was until I realized that I have no studs in any of the walls on which to mount this shit. Plaster city I guess. But the piece de resistance is my pickup truck wall art that is over my toilet adorning the master bathroom. White trash. Spending money makes me feel good. I have no idea why.

I went to Target yesterday before watching the Eagles get destroyed. Before I knew it I spent 80 bucks in like 20 minutes. I bought silly Halloween shit, a frame for this piece of art I purchased, a dust buster, bottled water, and on, and on, and on. I'm a spending machine. So much for saving money when I move to Georgia. Thank goodness when I take money out of an ATM I usually last about 2 weeks on that one withdrawal.

I'm Old

When I drink these days, I need like a week to recover. I swear. Last night I had a bunch of Jack and Coke after I finished my Rockstar and Vodka and then put down a vodka/tonic at Bees Knees. Met up with Joolie and the rest of the crew there before heading to a packed and sweaty Soul Bar for dancing. There I had some Stellas and then Joolie and I rolled to Firehouse where I put back a few Pasbts. This concoction completely fucked up my gullet. I'm convinced that I'm allergic to PBR. I crashed last night at 3 AM, got up at 11 and had breakfast with Joolie as we watched Breaking Bonaduce and then I went back to sleep @ 3 PM and got back up at 7 PM still feeling like poo. There goes Saturday. Oh well, I'm going to watch Amityville Horror and pretend that my shits are solid. It's called denial.

Giddy Up

Had my follow up appointment with the oral surgeon today who tells me that my wounds are healing nicely. Well, after he berated me for not following instructions and getting drunk after my surgery. Apparently drinking several hours after getting my mouth cut open may have delayed my healing a touch. And using a straw by accident might have fucked me up a bit too. Oh well, the good news is that it's all over with.

It's been raining pretty steady for a couple days and that makes me a little nostalgic. I think of Manchester, UK and my time spent there. And then I think of Philly. As stoked as I am to renew my desire to fit in here in Augusta, part of me still wishes I could go back. But I'm refusing to let myself go down that path this weekend. At least not tonight.

I'm ready to mix me up a Diet Rock Star and Absolut Mandarin and get my crunk on. It's First Friday, although a very wet one, and I've yet to experience this blessid event that happens monthly in Augusta. I'm not sure it's going to be cool, but I'm sure I'll be drunk. And socialable. Got to spread the Poison Scooter word...

Speaking of which, our tee shirts are in town...just not at my crib yet. Fedex has them and will attempt to reach me sometime early next week. And our stickers should arrive mid-week. As predicted we are "live" by mid-October. And Joolie has been feverishly coming up with designs for our next two releases. Check them out here. If you are interested in perhaps purchasing our logo tee (white scooter on black tee) for $15, shipping included, then email me @ poisonscooter@gmail.com with your size and I'll send you an invoice. Feel free to pre-order another design if you are feeling Eat My Dust or Here Comes Trouble more than the logo.

In any case, bottoms up friends. It's the freakin' weekend and I'm about to have me some fun.

The Response

Brother Dan, not to be confused with father and recent home purchaser Brother Mike, is a part time musician with a new demo on the loose. Steady gigging in Manayunk will only take him so far, so I've decided to pass along a track of his to get the music in the hands of the people. Even though the dick has decided after I've worked on a logo and a Myspace account for him that his band needs a new name. In any case, this song Pretty Baby is incredibly infectious and catchy.

You can download it here and see what I mean: Pretty Baby by The Response

Moving On

Damn, I guess this blog demonstrates just how life is a series of ups and downs. If I go back and look over my postings since I've moved to Georgia, I can clearly see a man who is struggling to deal with all the shit that is happening to him. I feel as though it's like watching the Titantic a little bit, it's kind of long and depressing. My apologies. I used to be a guy who rambled about entertainment pretty steadily and occasionally I pontificated about the sadness that is my life. Now I feel as though I've reversed that a bit. I'm a guy with a depression blog who sometimes mentions a song or film that is moderately encouraging and then I go back to whining. Fuck. Sorry. I hope that in the past week or two I've spared you any of the downer stuff and managed to get this shit back on track. I've been trying really hard to not get too down about my situation, or at least not go into agonizing detail about it on here.

For those keeping score however, I guess it's true what they say about relocating. The folklore goes like this: Give it 90 days and then shit should be okay. Well, congrats to me. I just made it to the 90 day mark and I'm still alive. And I didn't move back to Philly or have a nervous breakdown. It's been a crappy ride for the most part, but I'm ready to fully embrace the rest of my life now that I've managed to square away a few things. The hardest part of moving was saying goodbye to my friends and family in Philadelphia. I was very worried that I would become a memory to most of them rather quickly, and that scared me. Nobody wants to find out that they were expendable. Since coming here I've heard the words "I miss you" from my brothers and sisters so much that it borders on annoying. But each time I do hear it, I feel able to take another step forward. You dig?

I'll admit that when I first landed in this oasis of the South I panicked. I was scared to death about fitting in, finding friends, adjusting. I freaked a bit. I tried too hard to make some things work and not hard enough on some others. It's a crisis situation, or at least it appeared to be one, and I was ill equipped. I've always been a tool when it comes to dealing with the fairer sex, as some of my readers can attest to first hand. I don't take rejection well, I kind of spaz out for a while and eventually I'm able to be human again. What's ironic is that me moving here was supposed to help me "fix" parts of myself that I didn't like in Philly, and this was one of those. So what do I do when I get here? I repeat the same mistakes again without thinking about it. Classic Skip.

1. Get drunk and hook up with teenage girl. Check.
2. Mistake friendship for something more with good female friend. Check.
3. Piss and moan and refuse to go out and meet people. Check.

I am pathetically predictable to the extent that I sometimes feel cliched. I know I'm a pretty decent friend, I look out for people unconsciously almost. I don't even really care when people take advantage of me, in a sick way I kind of enjoy it I guess. For some reason though, I get really emotionally attached to people that wind up not being able to give back to me what I need that I sometimes retract and decide to forgo even trying to meet new people. And I'm smart enough to know this is counter productive. I always say you have to give to get, but when my ego is bruised I sometimes don't practice what I preach for a little while. It's one of my many, many quirks.

I'm not very good at apologizing or swallowing my pride either. God, the qualities when you add them up add up to shit. But it's who I am. Let me say that on occasion I have said some not very nice things about people on here, and although at the time I write things I fully intend the words I am putting to paper. Hindsight, however, is always 20/20 as they say and I guess in reality if I know who I am, I must accept that other people are who they are. We all can change, but I can only really worry about myself. And I know I need to change. I need to be more outgoing, easy going, fun. And I plan on it. Starting now I'm all about making every day better than the one before it. Fuck all this pissing and moaning shit. I'm sick of being a cry baby. And besides, I want to get laid and nobody wants to fuck a sour puss.

In closing, I guess I will ceremoniously wipe the slate clean publicly and say I am sorry for treating some people like shit either in my mind or in person. An ex-girlfriend used to say to me that she wasn't bad, just drawn that way. It's a dumb Roger Rabbit reference that actually kind of always annoyed me. But I think in some cases it's very apt. These folks aren't bad people. And I know that. I am pretty sure you can figure out who you are.

Funny Men Dying By The Bag Full

Rest in peace Nipsy and Don.

Nipsy Russell, that rhyme master and game show staple, died at age 80.




Don Adams, Inspector Gadget inspiration and star of Get Smart, dropped a few days ago.




Both have a place in the history books, but haven't been funny in so fucking long. Pack it in boys.

Rock School

Whoa. As much as I loved Jack Black in School Of Rock, you must check out Paul Green in the documentary Rock School. This dude is a nut. Trucker mouth, completely over the top, always yelling at 9 year olds. It's amazing to watch. Although we don't learn nearly enough about the man, we do get to see how learning rock and Zappa songs helps a lot of misfit kids feel better about themselves. just trust me, it's a cool documentary.

Fall TV Season

It's been a while since I pondered the merits of commercial television for my faithful readers, so let's discuss some of the new and returning shows shall we?

ABC looks primed to keep their edge as the best network outside of HBO for programming choices. Boston Legal just rung up Emmy victories for both James Spader and William Shatner, the highest rated midseason show in like 20 years is Grey's Anatomy, let's not forget Lost is back to give us no more answers and now we have Invasion to triumph with a time slot immediately following the Emmy winner for best drama in Lost. I'd say ABC likes their chances to dominate in the ratings this year. Especially considering that CBS and NBC have taken significant losses in the sitcom category the last couple of years. No more Raymond, Friends, Frasier, Will and Grace stinks and the mere fact that Two and a Half Men is the #1 comedy on TV tells you a lot about what's wrong with the world. Doesn't anyone watch Arrested Development for fuck's sake? Nope. Yet somehow it's back for a 3rd year and continues to rack up Emmy awards.

But not all is lost for NBC and CBS. My Name is Earl is genuinely likable thanks in great part to Jason Lee, his porn stash, a skinny but no less stupid Ethan Suplee and a rather hilarious Jaime Pressley. This style of sitcom, Malcolm in the Middle as opposed to Yes, Dear, possesses the potential to trick people into thinking they are watching something other than a horrible sitcom. I just hope the writing keeps this one fresh enough to watch. CBS on the other hand has it's staple of cop shows like all those CSIs and Without a Trace and Cold Case, and has added a couple hundred more this year. People like them, so why would they change gears? I thought CSI got really strong at the end of last year culminating in the big Tarantino directed finale, so I'm hoping they renew that energy. Although I'm certain folks will watch regardless. I'm steering clear of most of the new cop themed shows just so my palette doesn't get diluted. I've never thought we needed so many procedural cop dramas even back when Law and Order kept cloning itself, and I'm not changing now. Also in CBS's favor is that crowd pleaser Survivor is back (with my Philly girl Steph I might add), Amazing Race is fresh off an Emmy win and they just had a superb summer with both Rock Star and Big Brother finding major audiences. CBS is the leader of the pack when it comes to reality TV. Who saw that coming? Slow and steady wins the race FOX.

Speaking of FOX, I don't know shit about that channel's lineup. Same with WB and UPN. I guess I've become a bit of an adult and I've narrowed my vision to shows that appeal more to my demographic. There was a time, not so long ago, when I was hooked on Dawson's Creek and 90210. But nowadays, you can have your OC and One Tree Hill. If I want to look at young hotties I'll put on MTV for 10 minutes. And if I want soap opera shit, well I guess I find it on HBO where they can show boobies and say fuck. I'm all jazzed up for new Curb Your Enthusiasm and the Ricky Gervais series Extras on HBO.

To come full circle, I just watched Boston Legal and Grey's Anatomy today thanks to the magic of DVR and I have to say that I really enjoy both shows immensely. They have a great blend of laughs and drama, and the casts are pretty and talented. I'm not really into the Desperate Housewives bullshit, so for me this is where my money goes. Not since the days of LA Law and ER/Chicago Hope have I felt the airwaves had quality legal/medical dramas worth watching. Sure I know that ER is still on, but honestly it's become a parody of itself by staying on the air for so long. I'm sure there are some out there that can't wait to chew up Criminal Minds or Close to Home or Invasion or Surface, but do you think any will last past a season 1? Come on, Geena Davis as President? The airwaves are flooded with junk right now. Don Johnson and the kid from Undeclared have outlasted Adam Goldberg and Chris O'Donnell with their very similiar premised lawyer shows. And that's just fucking weak. Do yourself a favor and watch Boston Legal and Grey's Anatomy. You won't be disappointed.

Outer Banks, Hot Tubs and Industrial Rugs

As weddings go, getting hitched on a sand dune in front of vacationing friends with no church service to speak of isn't half bad. On Thursday morning I headed out to Kill Devil Hills in North Carolina to attend the wedding of an old friend Jared Little. Jared was marrying his girlfriend of forever Lori and they both being kind of laid back people came up with a plan to incorporate their wedding ceremony into their annual Outer Banks trip with friends. I've attended this trek to the Outer Banks on only one occasion and was unimpressed with the locale, but many of my friends have continued on this tradition and it seemed fitting to squeeze in a wedding on this year's journey.

The drive from Augusta to Kill Devil Hills is roughly 7 hours, so I decided to head out the morning of the wedding. I arrived to the ajoining properties, two very large, blue houses named Boardwalk and Park Place where all vacationers had been spending the week with roughly 45 minutes to spare. It was a quaint, early evening ceremony presided over by a friend in lieu of a judge or priest behind the houses, less than 100 yards from the Atlantic Ocean. Both the bride and groom's families were on hand to witness the event although they were situated at nearby hotels while the mansions were reserved for the friends along for the vacation.

Considering that the wedding was taking place towards the end of a week long stay, many of the celebrants had "enjoyed" themselves immensely and appeared tired when the reception got underway. I made the trek more or less to see a few friends from Philly, but considering that one got food poisoning and was in bed by 10 PM, another got insanely drunk and passed out, I was left to fend for myself and mingle with a lot of people that I have been distant from over the past few years.

There was a time when I was living in the country (post-college) and became immersed into a group of folks called the Woxall Gang. Many of these people have gotten married over the years and they have always gone out of their way to include me when these events take place, even though we haven't really hung out socially in a long, long time. There is still a bond with this group despite our distance, but considering all the changes I have gone through over the last few years, when I am around them I feel pressured to live up to an image that is no longer me.

My involvement with this trip was extremely limited. I was invited and I was considering not going up until the night before. A lot of my not wanting to go was related to my aching teeth, but some of it was the idea of facing people who I think still reserve some weird judgment of who I am. Since I was very non-committal about even going, I left myself in the precarious position of not really having anywhere to "stay" once I arrived. I managed to store my stuff in a friend's room, a priviledge that was revoked when I came barreling in to grab my wedding gift in my bag and interrupted a sexual romp. I should have knocked I suppose. In any case, being a man without an island and practically one of the few remaining singles in the group, I was essentially the last man standing. I drank way too much, even drove home some of the groom's family completely shitfaced, and spent too many hours in a hot tub. At 5 AM, once I had been abandoned by The Dude, the person I spent the most time with, I managed to wander about the house and find a hallway to sleep in. The size of the houses was intimidating and I never properly toured the entire place nor took stock of if there were any empty rooms with beds. I fully intended to crash down the street at another house that my friend Chris had rented for the week but he is the aforementioned "passed out" friend. Long story short, I picked the hallway that was filled with rooms that housed the couples with kids. So at 7 AM I was awakened by little Joey who was running the halls. I managed to drift in and out of sleep for 2 more hours before quitting and getting my ass up for good at 9 AM. As irony would have it, in broad daylight and with more time committed to learning the layout of the houses, I came to find that the "living room" was located near the top of the house and it was quite full of couches that could have been used for a bed. I'm a dummy.

Friday morning was ugly on the coast, rainy and cold. A lot of folks cut short their stay and began heading out a day early, back to their destinations. The houses were rented until Saturday, but considering the rather tame reception and horrible weather, I guess some folks had enough. Myself, I was more concerned with having to work today at 3 PM. I had such a lousy night's sleep, I was exhausted but felt up to just getting home. My momentum drove me to say my goodbyes and get on the road by 11:45 AM. The plan was to push through and get home by 7PM. Sadly my body had other ideas. By 2 PM my eyes were getting heavy, and by 2:30 they had closed while I was doing 80 MPH on 95 South. I was forced to pull of into Selma, NC, rent a hotel room and just crash. Not exactly how I planned for this trip to go...

In hindsight, I probably should have stayed in Kill Devil Hills, relaxed all day, found an empty room in one of the houses, hit the hay early and got up today and pushed straight through to work. I guess I didn't trust myself to make it all the way back by 3 PM. Or maybe I'm just so disconnected from my friends these days that I was uncomfortable to the point of wanting to leave? I even thought that perhaps I was just so lonely there, a lot of couples and the theme of marriage running amok makes a man think about his bachelorhood, that I wanted to just get away from the event as quickly as I could? If I had brought a date, I may have been more eager to stay.

In any case, I got up around 7 PM yesterday in Selma. Somewhat refreshed, but absolutely starving. I grabbed some food, watched some TV until 1 AM and then went back to sleep taking full advantage of my $38 hotel room. (Sidenote: This was possibly the nastiest hotel room I've ever stayed in.) I was literally 1 mile from the Ava Gardner museum, but alas it was closed as was much of what Selma had to offer after nightfall. I got up this morning after an awkward night of sleep in a hotel room locate was felt like mere feet from 95, at least based on the constant buzz of highway traffic that was inescapable. Making the remaining 4 hours was no problem today, even with a brief stop at South of the Border to snap some pictures, I was home in time to eat breakfast and unwind before having to make my way to the office.

The best time I had was when I was silently taking pictures of my friends. I always seem to be happy when I'm behind the scenes, a complete change from who I used to be. I was always so obnixious and forceful, and falling back into that role around these people made me very aware of just how much I don't like that version of myself anymore. I'm not unhappy that I decided to go, I did get value out of seeing a lot of old faces and it was very good to be around people who know me for a change. Even if the man they know is just not the same, they still know the history of Skip. The closeness isn't there enough for me to explain in a brief interlude all the changes I've undergone over the past few years, and so I can't blame any of them for expecting me to just be the same old "crazy" guy they all remember.

And oh, forgot to mention that I managed to get a speeding ticket in North Carolina 20 miles short of the wedding location on my way there. Awesome.

See the photos here.

Broken Record

I know, I know. You are sick of me making mention of my nagging pain related to my tooth excavation. Sorry, I can't help it. That shit still hurts and I'm still popping percocets on a nightly basis. Last night I popped them and tried to fall asleep to the Young Ones on DVD...very scary. A show that featured talking rats is not what you want to see while medicated to the eyeballs. And I can barely understand them with subtitles on, damn limeys.



One more day of work and I'm off to North Carolina for a quick 2 day trip to see some old friends and be part of yet another union between two people. I'm not the biggest fan of weddings, but I am okay with one that is taking place on a Thursday on the beach. Those Sunday church affairs are the pits. I just hope that my pain eases up for me to be equipped to deal with 15 hours of driving in a period of 54 hours. I'm set to work @ 3 PM on Saturday which calls on me to rise and shine on Saturday morning at roughly 6 AM and make the trek back from NC. Sounds like fun. I did get a call from some folks already in the Outer Bank region celebrating and it seems as though most folks would be happy to see me, so I really can't pass up the chance to go and see some friendly faces.

On a very unrelated note, the new Liz Phair album is very retro. Exile in Guyville 2. Nothing like her last CD which was rather good in a very over produced, Avril wannabe sort of way. I've always had a thing for Liz...so perhaps I'm kind of partial? In any case, you could do worse than listening to a couple tracks on your own and seeing what's up.

My Blue Period

The drugs have me in the blue zone....and it's rubbed off on my redesign of both my Blog and my Myspace profile. I'm digging the new look and feel of both. But I'm also very, very high right now.

Feverish

I had no choice but to bail on work today. I was off to a sluggish start this morning and never really gained enough energy to make it through the day. I made it in to work, but by 3 PM I was toast. What sucks is that it's a short week for me since I'm heaing to a wedding in North Carolina on Thursday, so I do have a ton of shit to get to that will take a back seat until tomorrow. Sometimes being the boss kind of blows.

I did however complete my Customer Service Appreciation poster at home today. Appreciation week is coming up shortly and all managers are responsible for making up a poster in honor of the staff. At least that's how I interpreted the assigment. Considering I'm on drugs, I can't be certain that I really understood what was expected of me. In any case, I bought glitter glue and that has to count for something. Maybe I'll snap a shot of this "art work" and let you all see it? Alright, check this bad boy out:





Incredible. I know.

Anyway, this lingering pain has got me kind of nervous. I've had a fever all day long and I still feel like someone bashed my face in with a metal chair. I don't want to keep taking pain medication for the rest of the week because I'm starting to be so lethargic and spacey on the shit. Oh well, tomorrow is another day.

Frosty, How I Love Thee

One of the perks of having trouble chewing is the mushy dietary supplements like pudding and apple sauce. But the best part of that kind of diet has got to be the daily dose of Frosty from Wendys. Goddamn that shit is so good. I spent last night in a weird state of not quite awake, not quite asleep due to my Percocet and really struggled to get out of bed this morning. The pain is kind of dull, but still lingering and as much as I wanted to eat some wings while watching the Eagles today, I decided to pass them by for some potato soup instead.

Speaking of the Eagles, another nail biter today. I'm confident we have the skills to go 12-4 minimum this year, but losing Akers might be a shitty way to start off the season. I completely blame my Giants fan brother in law for our troubles with Akers. Once he drafted him for his fantasy squad, I knew trouble was afoot. The curse.

Back to my drugged out sleep story. Last night I had all these moments of clarity, I was analyzing all these different events in my life and I was able to see exactly where I went wrong. The mistakes were so obvious and down right silly. Percocet is a very powerful drug I suppose. I also felt oddly inspired as I was coming up with all these tee shirt ideas for Poison Scooter while floating around in my head. Thankfully this stuff isn't habit forming...

Oh wait, I just read the literature and this stuff may be habit forming. Ouch. That sucks.

Anyway, another breakthrough has been made. One of the chicks who moved here from Philly has a husband who apparently turns out to be a Birds fan and I ran into him at the bar today. That male camaraderie I had been missing came through today with Pablo, my new friend from Chile. It was nice to actually talk about guy shit, like sports, music and being in love. Baby steps. I'm getting there people. I managed to put together a decent weekend of socializing while recovering from invasive oral surgery. Imagine what I will be like at full strength in the coming weeks. Ha.

Time to work on those shirt ideas and watch my fantasy football team stave of a late run by my Dad's pathetic squad. And I'm working on an after photo on the mouth. I just need to be able to open up wide enough...without crying or screaming. Stay tuned.

I Haven't Got Time For The Pain

Well, despite my horrific pain yesterday once the Novocain wore off, I decided to forgo taking pain meds so that I could drink some alcohol and go out to the bars. Now that's what I call dedication. Ryan Sullivan is our tech support dude down here and his brief relocation to help us get up and running is over. So last night was his farewell party and I didn't want to miss it. And as I mentioned I want to be more socialable to make this relocation work.

Vodka isn't as effective as Percocet, but it did help a little bit. It was weird to roll over to the local karoake bar and actually see some faces I know in there for a change. As predicted I did my crowd pleaser Creep to rave reviews. And I even got Joolie liquored up enough to duet with me on Cruisin', her favorite song. She was a little nervous, but I thought we sounded great.

After some singing, the party moved down to the Soulbar for 90's night which apparently is beat as hell. I didn't even recognize the songs being blasted and I was an adult in the 90's. No one was dancing when we arrived, so that should have been a sign to turn and run. I made another beer before the pain, mixed with liquid diet and alcohol was making me too woozy to go on. As much as I love bumping and grinding with the ladies, I like not fainting in a bar and hoping someone will carry me home.

The good news is that I woke up this morning around 6 AM ready to die and popped some pills. Re-woke up at 10:30 and I feel really good. Most of the swelling is down and no more bleeding. I think the worst is behind me and I'm officially wisdom tooth free. I made it until the latter part of my 33rd year for those bitches to come out. That's commitment.

Oh Sweet Wretchedness

Woke up today, popped my valium to quell my nervousness about the surgery and waited for Joolie to arrive right on schedule. The power of valium is something I need to look into....because I felt a but sluggish, but overall worry free and a little dare I say happy once it fully hit me. The doctor was the one running behind today and my surgery was pushed back until about 10:30, but once I got up in the chair and the ball was in motion apparently things went rather quickly. Then again, I was knocked out so time flew by for me. I can't recall much, but I vaguely have some memories towards the end when they were bringing back from slumber land.

I got my prescriptions, was wheelchaired out to the Joolie's awaiting Vibe and hit up the CVS for some drugs. All the while I could faintly feel the blood draining from my wounds, but the ice pack they provided was doing a good job of convincing me that this was really nothing to worry about at all. Joolie dropped me off and even though I had popped a pain pill, the knowledge that my Nano was over at UPS waiting for me was too much. I got dressed, drove over there (the idea of a nice Frosty from Wendys contributed) and made the pick up. I came home with Nano in hand (it's getting filled as we speak with my pathetically undersized collection) and plowed through some TIVO'd shows. My Name is Earl was kind of funny, CSI was decent, Big Brother finale sucked since Maggie won. The whole time I'm still wondering why I feel alright, not too drowsy, etc. And then all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. I guess the drugs they pumped me full of to perform the surgery have worn off and I feel like someone punched me with all their strength on the right side of my face. My tongue is still a little numb which scares me since I'm worried that when it gets feeling back I'm in for more horrible pain. For a short time I was harboring ideas of being able to forgo some pain pills tonight so that I could possible go out and drink some alcohol. This kid Ryan who moved from Philly to Augusta is leaving to go back to Philly tomorrow and his farewell bash is being held at my neighboring Karoake bar Greene Streets. I'll be able to see folks come and go from the bar out my window...

Part of me wants to go to shake off the vibe I've been projecting of Mr. Unsocialable, and another part wants people to see me do a song and be shocked at what I can do with a microphone. But all of me wants to just cry and pray that the pain goes away. I guess for now I'll play it by ear. Nap, shave (finally), watch Lost, Invasion and Judge Alex...see how I feel in a couple hours.

The Root of Evil (not all evil, just tooth evil)

This is my before shot:




That's Hot!

I've Stopped Shaving.

The new fall TV season is upon us and my TIVO is already filling up rather quickly. I've been pushing off watching a lot of stuff since I have tooth surgery scheduled for Friday morning and I'm certain to be recovering from that all weekend long. Gives me something to look forward to I suppose. Lost, Invasion, My Name is Earl, The Office....I got them all lined up and ready to go for post operation viewing.

Yeah, so I'm going under the knife and I'm actually pretty worried about it. It's only mouth surgery, but considering my Mother was only having her gall bladder removed and ulitmately wound up in a coma and died, I'm a little skittish with the whole operating thing. It's going to be weird having Joolie drive me to this place, sit in the waiting room for 2 hours while they rip out my teeth, take me home and tuck me in bed. I guess she owes me for the Atlanta "trip" from a couple weeks ago. My hope is that everything works our effortlessly and that my worry is unfounded.

Sidenote: Nano Pod has shipped from China. It's on the way. Yummy.

Rockstar

Who called that shit? I did. Week 2. JD Fortune is the new lead singer for INXS. Of course, in this fickle age we live in, I highly doubt anyone will actually buy a record with him on vocals or line up to see them play live....but at least he can say he is in INXS.

My boy Marty better put on a solo jammy jam 'cause unlike JD, who kind of became a clone of Michael Hutchence in an effort to win the contest, continued to be himself and really showcased that he has pipes and a pretty decent idea of how to write a good song. The song Trees of his still rattles around in my head all the time. And any guy who can make me like a Pink Floyd song must be doing something right.

Out of my head, out of my mind.

Am I crazy or is the new Paul McCartney album pretty fucking good? Maybe it's my lack of MP3s? Maybe it's my love for the Beatles. But I'm finding it quite catchy. Speaking of catchy, the new Franz Ferdinand is nothing new, but I like it bunches too.

So I made the plunge. I'm awaiting my Nano Pod to arrive in the mail as we speak. Since I gave away my IPod to Joolie (subsequently that shit was stolen from her car this weekend) and I really miss the concept of an MP3 player, I went for it. I'll let you know just how hot that shit is when it arrives.

Buying things makes me feel better about my life. For like 10 minutes. Well, that's enough from me....back to self loathing.

Waste

So I get a call from Randell my friendly CompUSA technician who informs me that he spent the better part of this morning watching Shark Tale on my computer proving that my DVD drive is in fine working order. Thanks numbnuts. How about trying a DVD-R in that drive since that was the fucking problem?!?! And then he says that the Firewire port that I can't seem to get to work consistently "checks out just fine too." Well, that was a wise move on my part. Allowing CompUSELESSA hold on to my computer for 4 days only to tell me that its all in my head and that they didn't do anything to resolve my issues.

What is the point of buying Apple Protection Plan if I can't just get a new drive or port when I say it's busted? I paid $150 for some country retard to tell me that "ain't nothing wrong"? When I challenged him on the DVD-R issue over the phone, he said that perhaps the DVD-Rs I'm using aren't formatted properly for my drive. Well, since Brother Mike, a certified Apple technician himself, is the very person who provided me said DVD-Rs, I tend to think that isn't the answer. I'm not sure what to do now? Buy a new fucking computer just to get my ISight camera to work consistently and allow me to regain back all of my MP3s? Or just deal with it?

To vent my frustrations with this mess, I decided to upgrade my phone to the Razor phone after all. It's hot. Of course it hasn't rung yet, but when it does I'll hear the soothing voice of Ben Gibbard to alert me of a call. My little digital camera wound up busting on me recently, so the camera phone feature comes in handy.

And in closing tonight, I would like to paint a picture of my Friday night. Come home from work after 11 hours, immediately begin knocking back Mickey Lights, watch Janelle get tossed out of the Big Brother house and take with her my desire to fucking care at this point, make plans to hang out with a friend, have the same friend cancel those plans @ 10:30 PM, continue to drink beer, wander over to the local karoake bar wasted at around Midnight (sadly becoming a trend for my Friday nights...), get up and perform Radiohead's Creep which impressed the karoake regulars enough to ask that I sit with them, small talk while pouring Miller Lights down my throat, sneakily request Cruisin' (the Gwenyth Paltrow/Huey Lewis version) as a duet for me to perform with Trish the best female singer in the joint, bring down the house with our rendition, walk right from the stage to the door and across the street to my house, eat hot dogs/cheese curls until ready to puke and fall into bed naked and wasted. Ah, Southern Comfort.

Incommunicado

I decided to FINALLY to get my computer "looked" at by a professional and now I must suffer the consequences. I'm without my best friend in the world, my beloved eMac. God, I'm lost without my computer. No IM. No aimless surfing. And until now, no blogging. I'm staying late at work to make this all important blog. And it's Friday.

It's not all bad news, since the inagural purchase of Poison Scooter gear has been made and I'm expecting to be in a position to start selling some t-shirts come October 1.

Oh, and check this out. I went to Best Buy to grab a hot ass black Nano Pod and they were sold out. Bummer. Now I'm wondering if I just use my "Best Buy" money on a Razor phone instead? But then again, no one calls me so what's the point.

Discovery

I learn new things every day. For instance, I learned that it doesn't matter that I have been participating in fantasy football for the better part of 10 years, I still suck. Brother Mike is in his rookie season in my fantasy league (quit snickering dammit) and already attained his first victory. And at my expense. Well that grinds my stones. The good news is the value of one of my players has dramatically risen due to the fall of Javon Walker. Donald Driver never looked so tasty as he does right now.

I also figured out that I'm so afraid to live without my computer for one minute that I am seriously considering buying a new one this week. I really hate that my disk drive and firewire port on this ride are failing me, so I'm thinking I upgrade, get my eMac fixed and then sell it to someone for a couple hundred.

I can't make heads or tails of Best Buy's Reward Zone but somehow they sent me $40 in coupons today. And I have about $50 on a gift card from back a while. Can you say Nano Pod? That little black one is calling out my fucking name. And I just totally gave away my Ipod like a week ago. I'm a freak.

Augusta - Now In Technicolor

I found this really cool stencil on a door on Ellis Street. I added some photos to my collection. Browse away.


Unleash the magic.

Breaking Bonaduce

This is the greatest reality TV show ever.

Nights Like These

Ah, Atlanta. Bright lights, big city...you remind me of Philly yet you look cleaner.

We rolled into ATL looking to kick that town in the nuts about 9:30 PM. The drive wasn't by any means overwhelming, just absolutely boring. Not the company, as Joolie is an incredible wing (wo)man, just the scenery, or lack there of, that litters I-20 from Augusta to Atlanta is bleak. We found our hotel, checked in and began to slowly realize that the part of town that houses both the venue and our hotel appears to be the financial district of the town, i.e. it's a wasteland after 5 PM. We wandered aimlessly waxing philosophically about relationships and our stations in life, hoping to find a bar to pre-game at. No such luck.

We hit the venue instead, an interesting if underpopulated space, about 10 PM, grab a couple of drinks and perch ourselves in full view of a pillar blocking the over-anxious Wilco-wannabe band that is warming us up for the Lucero experience. In between text messages, Joolie slurps and slurps her Redbull and vodka and we try to engage strangers in conversation. Apparently unlike Philly, in Atlanta no one wants to meet anyone new. Everyone had their friends there and that was all they needed. By the end of the opening act's set Joolie had made it through 2 Redbull and vodkas and a Jager shot with ease. It was becoming more and more clear to me that her decision to not eat anything the entire day before consuming alcohol was going to become one she would soon regret. The words were slurring and her balance was completely off and Lucero hadn't taken the stage yet.

Fast forward. Lucero comes out, their fans go nuts, Joolie immerses herself into the crowd while I hang back. From a safe distance I observe the dance of the intoxicated that Joolie has perfected, she is eager to become one with the music, the people and more importantly with someone who is not there. As Joolie attempts to charm some local boy into helping her enjoy the show, I can see that she is quickly moving past the point of being drunk and into the abyss of possibly blacking out. The straw that connects her mouth to the flow of vodka soaked Redbull hasn't left her mouth for what seems like hours.

Although I had not stopped drinking, I was nowhere near the point of intoxication when it was obvious to me that we needed to leave the show and call this night just that, a night. Lucero was still grinding on in the background as I walked Joolie to the restroom since she had announced "she wasn't sure how to use it." Ouch. This girl is wasted I thought to myself. Once Joolie emerged from the Ladies bathroom, I looked her in the eyes and said "do you want to leave?" to which she replied "NO!". Without any coaxing or prodding by me she immediately changed her answer as she began to take one wozy step forward. "I want to go" she said.

At the top of the very demanding set of stairs that leads down and out of the club, I decided to sling Joolie over my shoulder caveman style to save her from what had become a challenge for her, walking. Luckily our hotel was about a block from the bar and I'm quite able bodied and she is like a feather in my arms. When the lights went out on our night in Atlanta and Joolie was nestled up in the covers I leaned in to her and said "do you realize that it is not even Midnight?" to which her response was "Nun-Uh!"

We had been in town for less than 3 hours and our crunkness was over. I spent the better part of the next couple of hours making sure she was going to make it. The idea of someone jumping out of bed, opening the hotel door and trying to piss in the hall is a little unnerving to me. Joolie was falling into the wall, the tub, the coffee table, it was all quite humorous in hindsight. I didn't mind a bit since I'm sure if I was in the same condition she would gladly accept the challenge of caring for me. That's what friends do right? We make sure you make it when it seems like you might not. We hold your hand when you want to hold hands. We hug you to make you understand that it's going to be alright.

The aftermath of this night was to wake up in a hotel bed next to me. What a lucky lady. As we ate our continental breakfast and Joolie bemoaned the fact that she cannot remember anything from the night before, I thought to myself how lucky she was to have me there. And how lucky I am to have her. Sure she was pissed that the entire trip cost us about $200 and we really only got drunk and passed out in record time. Sure she can't remember one song that her favorite band played. Sure she was too hungover to do anything except leave Atlanta in our wake as we checked out and split town before noon. But, what can you do? Even if she can't recall the night before, I know she was having fun. I could see it in her eyes that she was happy to be there. The catastrophe will make a good story for the coming weeks at the very least.

Look at the laughter on our faces. Fuck Atlanta. A city is a city. You've seen one, you've seen them all. Ha.

ATL Bitches.

So I'm venturing out of Augusta for the first time since I moved here and will be heading to Hotlanta Friday after work. Joolie coaxed me into going to see a band called Lucero play at a place called The Loft in the downtown area. Even though it's only a 2 hour drive, we said "fuck it" and grabbed a very local hotel room to the venue. This will allow a couple of things to happen that wouldn't otherwise be possible.

1. We can get shitty at the show.
2. We can see Atlanta in the day time on Saturday.
3. I will have a place close by to go crap in when my anxiety takes over during the show.

Leaving town might be a good thing since apparently it's Border Bash weekend here in the greater Augusta area. I am not too sure what this event is all about, but I think it has something to do with college football, something I know nothing about. Some people I guess root for Georgia and some for South Carolina (?) and they are playing this weekend? I have no clue. But I'm sure the town will be a mess and I'll be glad to be gone.

The downside is that 80's night at the Soulbar coincides with my trip to Atlanta. Sigh. I will miss dancing/sweating my ass off and pimping it with the ladies. Or rather, they will miss my presence there and for that I am truly sorry.

I Have Arrived

So my business cards came today. How cool is that? I haven't had a business card since I got them for being President of Temple's Student Government in 1994. At least not one with my name on them. So what if I had to make them up myself, and pay for them and they promote a tee shirt company that has yet to get off the ground and actually make or sell an actual tee shirt. The point is that they are cool.

Hurricane Relief

So here's the deal. I mentioned in passing the other day that my cousin Sam recently moved to New Orleans a couple weeks before I moved here to Georgia and that I was more prone to send him cash in an envelope than to donate money to the Red Cross and hope it finds a way to touch him. At the request of one of my friends and loyal readers, Saybolt, I am going to expound on Sam's story and provide a temporary mailing address for him just in case others feel the way that I do.

My cousin Sam Landherr is a member of the Coast Guard, as is his lovely wife Heather. In May of this year they relocated to a suburb outside of New Orleans and decided to buy a home that they could grow into over the coming years. Sam and Heather are hitting the late 20's and are beginning to think about starting a family. For the past week and a half they have been living in a hotel in Alexandria, Louisiana and working 14 hour days to help with relief efforts. I guess it kind of sucks to be hit with the devastation on a personal level by having to evacuate your newly purchased home, have it destroyed while you can do nothing and then on top of it all, selflessly continue to do your job. Having Sam down there I get to here about all the stuff that the media isn't portraying on TV and I can tell you, this disaster is a lot more incredible than you or I think it is. And today I found out that Sam and Heather are being split up by the Coast Guard, Sam is staying put in Alexandria and Heather is being sent to Baton Rogue, since there just aren't enough people to help out in all the areas that need support. I think about what these two are going through right now and feel completely shallow and self centered to always being whining about crap and talking about what movie was good or bad. Not that I'm going to stop with that, it's just this event is putting things in perspective for me. While I mull over whether I will go see a movie or shop for shit I don't need today, Sam is driving to his home for the first time since the hurricane hit to assess what the damage is, i.e. tally up EVERYTHING that is gone.

Anyway, I'm putting some cash in a card and sending it Sam and Heather. I'm sure they aren't expecting it, and in the grand scheme of things it's a small act that won't make things much better for them. But I want them to know that I care about their situation and like I mentioned before, I know first hand that they are in a position to use all the help they can get. If the urge strikes you to donate some money, perhaps you would consider sending them something directly as well. Or maybe you could take the time to write up a little card to say that you are thinking about them. It's just a thought.

Samuel and Heather Landherr
c/o Louisiana Convention Center Hotel
2301 N. MacArthur Drive
Room 253
Alexandria, LA 71301

Another Pleasant Valley Sunday

Kanye West is a mad man. And I love it. Choosing to attack Bush on national TV was ballsy. I didn't see it happen, but I've read his quotes and I couldn't agree more with his sentiment.

What happened to the summer movie season? I'm off today and there is NOTHING that interests me that is out in the theater right now. I'm considering seeing Wedding Crashers again just to get in a few more laughs before summer officially ends.

Hit up Best Buy today to grab some new music since it's apparent that I will never be getting access to my lost MP3 collection. Sniff, sniff. Purchased Cat Stevens Greatest Hits, Kings of Leon Aha Shake Heartbreak and Stereolab's Oscillons from the Anti-Sun 3 CD set.

I guess I'll hook up my photo printer finally. It's been sitting here for a couple weeks just wondering what the hell it's purpose in life is supposed to be. I've been uninterested in reading some frigging manual that makes no sense to me, so I've put it off. But since it's Sunday, the beatest of all days in Augusta, I'll submit to the pressure and hook that bitch up.

Topical = Atypical

If you have been reading this crap for the last couple of months I'm sure you've picked up on a couple of themes.

1. I have problems with women.
2. I watch a lot of TV shows that no one else does.
3. When I read a book, see a film or hear some new tunes, I pass along the information as if my opinion matters.

It has occurred to me recently that I don't even really pay attention to the news of the world all that much. Like this shit with New Orleans or gas prices. I'm more concerned with not having access to my 700 mp3s that I lost, than I am about the devastation of entire large US city. And perhaps that is selfish of me?

I read an open letter to George Bush from Michael Moore today and I kind of remembered when I was a citizen of this country who gave a shit about it's future. I guess my heartbreak over Bush getting re-elected lead me to just tune out all the junk that is going on around me. I'm still shell shocked from the election, to the point that I barely think about anything outside of entertainment and heartache. I do know that part of me feels like this is the kind of crap I knew we would have to contend with by re-electing that fool. I defy anyone who is a supporter of President Jackass to come to his defense over our governmental reaction to this catastrophe in the South. You can't. The arrogance that our elected officials have is the bed we made and must lie in. I guess I've decided that I'm sleeping on the couch.

Oh well, what am I going to do? I could send some money to the Red Cross, but I'm more apt to put some in an envelope and send it to my cousin Sam who just moved to New Orleans right before I came here to Georgia. At least I would know where it's going that way. But instead I'll probably hold onto my money for when gas prices top out at $10 a gallon. Wait, I thought we pretty much took over a country in the Middle East that has tons of oil? Did I miss something? You all laughed when I bought an Echo. Now who's laughing?

Tears

I made a girl cry today at work. Actually two girls cry, in a span of 10 minutes. The first one was justified I think, but the second one caught me off guard. Sometimes it sucks having to tell someone the truth, even if it hurts them. That was the case today for both parties.

First I told a "friend" that I didn't think she was being much of one to me. It felt good to stand up for myself, but part of me wonders if her tears weren't just a mechanism to make me feel sorry for her and let up. I held firm in my resolve and told her exactly what I was thinking and feeling, so ultimately I pushed things over to her and we'll see what happens next. Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy that I made her cry, that would be cruel. I just hope that her tears make her think about how she has been towards me. Whether or not we are friends in the future will be up to her now, and I'll make certain it is on my terms. The doormat days are over.

Now, the second victim today was an employee of mine that is on the verge of getting fired. I'm used to the routine by now, the crying to illicit sympathy, but damn if sometimes it doesn't get to me. I'm surrounded by a lot of single, young working mothers and their problems with money and child care make me sad sometimes. I bet it's hard as hell to juggle a family and work, so even though I was holding my ground with this situation, I did feel bad for making her upset. That's the nice guy in me.