Monday, December 31, 2007
Happy New Year
Hey, folks. For some reason I felt behooved to write something on here before 2008 began. So happy new year, everybody. Let's all have a superb 2008, huh? Talk to you next year.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Ch-ch-ch...
Heya, folks. I figured that last post was a bit weighty to leave at the top of the pile for too long, so I'm writing this little innocuous one to sit up here now, at least for a bit.
N-e-wayz...hmmm...nothing to say...heh...
I suppose yesterday was kind of a lucky day for me. I bought a pizza wheel at a home goods store and when the cashier learned that we were from the same country, she gave me a discount. Then, since my regular way home looked a bit jammed up, I took a detour, which led me to a street where there is a used bookstore I always make a mental note to myself to check out but never do and so, spur-of-the-moment, I decided to go. I bought a few books, nothing special, then on my way out I saw a pile of new arrivals, on which was sitting the new Oliver Sacks book Musicophilia (Oliver Sacks is a neurologist or something. You seen that movie Awakenings? Robin Williams plays a fictionalized version of Sacks. One of the bits of trivia I've learned from my newfound love of books. Did I mention that? Books give me a total boner these days) about what goes on in the heads of people who are addicted to music. So this book, okay, it just came out last Tuesday, and I had planned on getting it one day, probably online. But here was a brand-spanking new copy that I didn't have to pay shipping for. Since it's new, it's only in hardcover, and the cover price was a steep 26 bucks. But I was prepared to pay for it anyway. Then the cashier says to me, 'this is a review copy. I don't have a price for it yet. What do you say, 12? 12.60 with tax?' and I'm like, 'sure.' Wow.
Then today I went to a bookstore, one of the big ones, and that lady who helped me out when I was there last weekend was there. And I recognized her, because she's cute and she was really extra nice to me last time. Then today she was nice again, but she was equally nice to the other people who were there. And it made me so mad it did. I was like, you tart! Agh! We shared a cuddle in my imagination! I felt so betrayed, man. But anyway, there was a cuter girl there today who helped me out and I dunno, man, she seemed to dig me, I kinda felt a vibe there. Of course, now she thinks I am an atheist but really I am just curious about atheism. And now we will cuddle in my mind. Creepy.
N-e-wayz...hmmm...nothing to say...heh...
I suppose yesterday was kind of a lucky day for me. I bought a pizza wheel at a home goods store and when the cashier learned that we were from the same country, she gave me a discount. Then, since my regular way home looked a bit jammed up, I took a detour, which led me to a street where there is a used bookstore I always make a mental note to myself to check out but never do and so, spur-of-the-moment, I decided to go. I bought a few books, nothing special, then on my way out I saw a pile of new arrivals, on which was sitting the new Oliver Sacks book Musicophilia (Oliver Sacks is a neurologist or something. You seen that movie Awakenings? Robin Williams plays a fictionalized version of Sacks. One of the bits of trivia I've learned from my newfound love of books. Did I mention that? Books give me a total boner these days) about what goes on in the heads of people who are addicted to music. So this book, okay, it just came out last Tuesday, and I had planned on getting it one day, probably online. But here was a brand-spanking new copy that I didn't have to pay shipping for. Since it's new, it's only in hardcover, and the cover price was a steep 26 bucks. But I was prepared to pay for it anyway. Then the cashier says to me, 'this is a review copy. I don't have a price for it yet. What do you say, 12? 12.60 with tax?' and I'm like, 'sure.' Wow.
Then today I went to a bookstore, one of the big ones, and that lady who helped me out when I was there last weekend was there. And I recognized her, because she's cute and she was really extra nice to me last time. Then today she was nice again, but she was equally nice to the other people who were there. And it made me so mad it did. I was like, you tart! Agh! We shared a cuddle in my imagination! I felt so betrayed, man. But anyway, there was a cuter girl there today who helped me out and I dunno, man, she seemed to dig me, I kinda felt a vibe there. Of course, now she thinks I am an atheist but really I am just curious about atheism. And now we will cuddle in my mind. Creepy.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Adios, Amiga
Tonight I found out I'm no longer friends with somebody. There's a definite sense of loss here, a hint of sadness, but also a lot of relief and closure. Closure is good.
It all started a few months ago, in May. My sister set me up with one of her co-workers, and I agreed but didn't expect much. Thing is, when I met her I could tell she was different and I wound up liking her. I thought she liked me as much, so it really hit me when, at the end of date three, she told me she wanted to just be friends. I took that literally, although in hindsight it was very naive of me not to interpret that as "I wouldn't mind if I never saw you again." But either way we still hung out a few times and I'd accepted that friends was all we'd ever be, although I must admit I struggled with that thought.
So a few weeks ago we hung out again, and soon after I asked her on two separate occasions whether she was interested in doing this or that, and she said she wasn't, for legitimate reasons. Paranoid as I am, I took that as her giving me the cold shoulder, so I said to myself, "Fuck it, why waste all this energy on trying to create a friendship?" and I didn't call her for a while. And I was okay with it too--life's good, nothing to complain about. I was keeping busy and keeping happy.
Then last night, I was talking with my sis in the kitchen and she asked me if I'd spoken to her co-worker recently. And I told her no and I told her why, but I asked how she was. Anyway, the sis tells me how her co-worker is unhappy and that there are days when she feels like crying. So I think to myself that maybe I should call and try to cheer her up. Just as a friend of course, and I meant that.
So tonight I called, and she sounded tired and irritable, and said that she had "barely" eaten dinner. So I kept it short, "just keeping in touch" I said and adderd that we should hang out sometime. And she goes something like, "I'm going to be busy for a very long time." Which figures.
So now, unequivocally, we're not friends. Maybe we never were to begin with. And yeah, I do feel bad about it, because she's interesting, and I like interesting people. Maybe it's better like this. After all, it's too easy for me to like her. She's adorable. It's weird though, because for as little as I knew her, she introduced me to a lot of new things that I'm very much into now. I had hoped to get her into some of the stuff I like, too, which is what lovers do, yeah, but friends do it too all the time. I guess she just wasn't interested. Oh well, what I learned from all this is that though you may like someone, they may not like you back. And in hindsight, I've had to teach that lesson to some people before. So. Not friends. And I'm cool with that. Really.
It all started a few months ago, in May. My sister set me up with one of her co-workers, and I agreed but didn't expect much. Thing is, when I met her I could tell she was different and I wound up liking her. I thought she liked me as much, so it really hit me when, at the end of date three, she told me she wanted to just be friends. I took that literally, although in hindsight it was very naive of me not to interpret that as "I wouldn't mind if I never saw you again." But either way we still hung out a few times and I'd accepted that friends was all we'd ever be, although I must admit I struggled with that thought.
So a few weeks ago we hung out again, and soon after I asked her on two separate occasions whether she was interested in doing this or that, and she said she wasn't, for legitimate reasons. Paranoid as I am, I took that as her giving me the cold shoulder, so I said to myself, "Fuck it, why waste all this energy on trying to create a friendship?" and I didn't call her for a while. And I was okay with it too--life's good, nothing to complain about. I was keeping busy and keeping happy.
Then last night, I was talking with my sis in the kitchen and she asked me if I'd spoken to her co-worker recently. And I told her no and I told her why, but I asked how she was. Anyway, the sis tells me how her co-worker is unhappy and that there are days when she feels like crying. So I think to myself that maybe I should call and try to cheer her up. Just as a friend of course, and I meant that.
So tonight I called, and she sounded tired and irritable, and said that she had "barely" eaten dinner. So I kept it short, "just keeping in touch" I said and adderd that we should hang out sometime. And she goes something like, "I'm going to be busy for a very long time." Which figures.
So now, unequivocally, we're not friends. Maybe we never were to begin with. And yeah, I do feel bad about it, because she's interesting, and I like interesting people. Maybe it's better like this. After all, it's too easy for me to like her. She's adorable. It's weird though, because for as little as I knew her, she introduced me to a lot of new things that I'm very much into now. I had hoped to get her into some of the stuff I like, too, which is what lovers do, yeah, but friends do it too all the time. I guess she just wasn't interested. Oh well, what I learned from all this is that though you may like someone, they may not like you back. And in hindsight, I've had to teach that lesson to some people before. So. Not friends. And I'm cool with that. Really.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
First Work Blog
...and it's a long one. So. Friday I wanted to write about how great things were going. Monday through Wednesday was pretty tough--I was out of the office the whole time inspecting bridges in Washington. Lots of ladder-climbing and hammer-hammering, all by me.
But Thursday and Friday were great. I was in Annapolis, which is starred in the map below...
...and I was out with a couple of of our prime contractors on a 25-foot motor boat to inspect the underwater portions of a bridge with a scuba diver. The bridge was a new one, so there was not a lot of work involved for the diver. Me, all I had to do was sit in the boat and relax, take notes, and communicate with him every once in a while via a radio, saying stuff like, "roger" and "say again?" and "roger" again.
So I wanted to write about how great those two days were, about how I could smell the faintly salty air as the wind whipped past the boat. I wanted to write about the tickle I felt in the corner of my eye whenever I angled my head just so and the wind would beat against the bridge of my nose. I wanted to write about the crabcakes I had at a seaside restaurant where we parked the boat and just hopped onto a dock and our table.
But nooooo...today just wouldn't let that whimsy linger. I had to work today, a Sunday. Sure, I volunteered for it, but I was under the impression I was going to inspect Baltimore county bridges, but ended up doing Harford county bridges instead, which are farther away. Then while out there I realized I'd left my boots in the office, so I had to inspect wearing tennis shoes. Which wasn't so bad until I was walking on what I thought was solid ground but turned out to be just an overgrowth of freaking brambles supported by nothing. So I fell right through the brambles into a stream and got my pants all soaked and my shoes and socks all muddy that I contemplated throwing both in the garbage. I had a change of pants and socks in the car, but no shoes, so I had to wear fishing boots the rest of the day.
Then just as the guy I was with and I were about to start on the last bridge of the day, I realized I'd locked us out of the car.
When I was still an EE major, I took a digital logic class with a quirky professor who told us that Murphy's law had corollaries, one of which is that bad things will happen at the most inopportune times.
So naturally, since it was a working Sunday and I had just fallen into a fucking river and had my arms butchered by some fucking brambles, it had to be the one day that we only had one car key on us which I locked in the car while we were on the wrong side of it, the outside. Shit. Long story short, a locksmith is now a hundred and fifty bucks richer. Fortunately this one ordeal didn't set us back more than half an hour, if that.
During the drive home I was thinking to myself that the one thing that would really make my day complete was being pulled over for speeding. And you know what? I wasn't pulled over. Ha ha, had you going there a while.
Nevertheless, I got home at 6:30, and put in an extra 11 hours of work, and there was no permanent damage when I think about it. It feels like it's been a bad day, but there have been worse. And if it hadn't happened this way, you wouldn't be reading this. Now that I'm home, things look okay again. Although...I had wanted to leave work early tomorrow, but now I'm not sure since I just cost the company $150...
Eeyow. Hope you had a better Sunday, folks. Later...
But Thursday and Friday were great. I was in Annapolis, which is starred in the map below...
...and I was out with a couple of of our prime contractors on a 25-foot motor boat to inspect the underwater portions of a bridge with a scuba diver. The bridge was a new one, so there was not a lot of work involved for the diver. Me, all I had to do was sit in the boat and relax, take notes, and communicate with him every once in a while via a radio, saying stuff like, "roger" and "say again?" and "roger" again.
So I wanted to write about how great those two days were, about how I could smell the faintly salty air as the wind whipped past the boat. I wanted to write about the tickle I felt in the corner of my eye whenever I angled my head just so and the wind would beat against the bridge of my nose. I wanted to write about the crabcakes I had at a seaside restaurant where we parked the boat and just hopped onto a dock and our table.
But nooooo...today just wouldn't let that whimsy linger. I had to work today, a Sunday. Sure, I volunteered for it, but I was under the impression I was going to inspect Baltimore county bridges, but ended up doing Harford county bridges instead, which are farther away. Then while out there I realized I'd left my boots in the office, so I had to inspect wearing tennis shoes. Which wasn't so bad until I was walking on what I thought was solid ground but turned out to be just an overgrowth of freaking brambles supported by nothing. So I fell right through the brambles into a stream and got my pants all soaked and my shoes and socks all muddy that I contemplated throwing both in the garbage. I had a change of pants and socks in the car, but no shoes, so I had to wear fishing boots the rest of the day.
Then just as the guy I was with and I were about to start on the last bridge of the day, I realized I'd locked us out of the car.
When I was still an EE major, I took a digital logic class with a quirky professor who told us that Murphy's law had corollaries, one of which is that bad things will happen at the most inopportune times.
So naturally, since it was a working Sunday and I had just fallen into a fucking river and had my arms butchered by some fucking brambles, it had to be the one day that we only had one car key on us which I locked in the car while we were on the wrong side of it, the outside. Shit. Long story short, a locksmith is now a hundred and fifty bucks richer. Fortunately this one ordeal didn't set us back more than half an hour, if that.
During the drive home I was thinking to myself that the one thing that would really make my day complete was being pulled over for speeding. And you know what? I wasn't pulled over. Ha ha, had you going there a while.
Nevertheless, I got home at 6:30, and put in an extra 11 hours of work, and there was no permanent damage when I think about it. It feels like it's been a bad day, but there have been worse. And if it hadn't happened this way, you wouldn't be reading this. Now that I'm home, things look okay again. Although...I had wanted to leave work early tomorrow, but now I'm not sure since I just cost the company $150...
Eeyow. Hope you had a better Sunday, folks. Later...
Monday, September 17, 2007
Wide World of Sports Scandals
While getting my daily Wikipedia fix earlier, I noticed that it was a racing day. I learned that Colin McRae just died (I don't know anything about WRC, but I know that there's a video game named after McRae), and I read about the recent espionage scandal involving the Ferrari and McLaren F1 teams.
Long story short, a disgruntled Ferrari employee gave a McLaren guy some classified documents of the Ferrari design and, yadda yadda yadda, McLaren's been disqualified from this year's constructor championship, and has been fined an inconceivable $100 million. McLaren also has to show the design of next year's car to the F1 head honchos by December, or it'll be disqualified again next year.
Maybe it's just a series of coincidences, or maybe I'm just more aware of things now, but it seems that there are a lot more controversies in the world of sport these days then there were when I was a kid. So we have this F1 scandal, then there we had that NBA ref Donaghy betting on games. Then there was this really hyped up American football scandal involving this player, Michael Vick (who earlier this year was caught trying to sneak pot through an airport), running a dogfighting ring from home. Then there's all this crap about doping that's tainted everything from baseball to the Tour de France.
But you know what the weird thing is about all this? I love this shit, man. It makes things so interesting doesn't it? Wow, all that drama! I don't like sports as a spectator (although I do follow tennis from time to time) as much as I like playing sports, so I don't read the sports pages much. But when there's a scandal, man, I am following all the stories. It's great! Maybe it's schadenfreude--those guys make millions, and then oops! Ha ha! But sports scandals are great to watch, especially if no one gets hurt--physically, I mean.
On a different note, my buddy and I went to a used book sale today. I had wanted to go on Saturday, but my so-called friends backed out on me and so I used that day to just loaf around the house. But, man, am I glad I went eventually. To be honest, their record selection was disappointing, but I got a whole lot of books. To many for a bag, so they gave me a box. And you know how much I spent? Eighteen bucks. Like I told the lady behind the counter, I felt like I was getting away with something. I bought this one book from 1922 in which the original owner had inserted a review of the book from a newspaper back then. I doubt I will read it, but the imagined history of that book compelled me to buy it. My friend also found this religion book from 1904 that I kind of wish I'd bought. They were also selling a book for $225 which belonged to one of Abe Lincoln's people. "How do you know?" we asked. "He wrote his name on it," they answered. I've always been fascinated by the history of inanimate objects. They don't know where they've been or where they're going, who's held them, yet here they are today. Here was a book that, over a century after having been in the hands of Lincoln's man, was being looked at by some kid from the Philippines, of all places, who happened to find his way to Rockville, Maryland on this particular day. Is it fate, or is it coincidence?
I didn't by the book, though. Two hundred bucks! Geez Louise!
Long story short, a disgruntled Ferrari employee gave a McLaren guy some classified documents of the Ferrari design and, yadda yadda yadda, McLaren's been disqualified from this year's constructor championship, and has been fined an inconceivable $100 million. McLaren also has to show the design of next year's car to the F1 head honchos by December, or it'll be disqualified again next year.
Maybe it's just a series of coincidences, or maybe I'm just more aware of things now, but it seems that there are a lot more controversies in the world of sport these days then there were when I was a kid. So we have this F1 scandal, then there we had that NBA ref Donaghy betting on games. Then there was this really hyped up American football scandal involving this player, Michael Vick (who earlier this year was caught trying to sneak pot through an airport), running a dogfighting ring from home. Then there's all this crap about doping that's tainted everything from baseball to the Tour de France.
But you know what the weird thing is about all this? I love this shit, man. It makes things so interesting doesn't it? Wow, all that drama! I don't like sports as a spectator (although I do follow tennis from time to time) as much as I like playing sports, so I don't read the sports pages much. But when there's a scandal, man, I am following all the stories. It's great! Maybe it's schadenfreude--those guys make millions, and then oops! Ha ha! But sports scandals are great to watch, especially if no one gets hurt--physically, I mean.
On a different note, my buddy and I went to a used book sale today. I had wanted to go on Saturday, but my so-called friends backed out on me and so I used that day to just loaf around the house. But, man, am I glad I went eventually. To be honest, their record selection was disappointing, but I got a whole lot of books. To many for a bag, so they gave me a box. And you know how much I spent? Eighteen bucks. Like I told the lady behind the counter, I felt like I was getting away with something. I bought this one book from 1922 in which the original owner had inserted a review of the book from a newspaper back then. I doubt I will read it, but the imagined history of that book compelled me to buy it. My friend also found this religion book from 1904 that I kind of wish I'd bought. They were also selling a book for $225 which belonged to one of Abe Lincoln's people. "How do you know?" we asked. "He wrote his name on it," they answered. I've always been fascinated by the history of inanimate objects. They don't know where they've been or where they're going, who's held them, yet here they are today. Here was a book that, over a century after having been in the hands of Lincoln's man, was being looked at by some kid from the Philippines, of all places, who happened to find his way to Rockville, Maryland on this particular day. Is it fate, or is it coincidence?
I didn't by the book, though. Two hundred bucks! Geez Louise!
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Wacky Races
Did you guys ever watch that show? Remember Dick Dastardly's dog? Muttley? Lemme see if i can find a picture...here.
Anyway, remember how Muttley would grumble something like "rassafrassarassararararrrr?" What do you think he was saying. I think it's "cocksucker motherfucker." Say it fast: "cocksuckermotherfucker." Eh? Incidentally, I've just discovered that the spell checker on Firefox has no problem with either "cocksucker" or "motherfucker," and as well it shouldn't.
I'm still sick, in case you were wondering, but feeling better, although my head is throbbing once again. Good night!
Anyway, remember how Muttley would grumble something like "rassafrassarassararararrrr?" What do you think he was saying. I think it's "cocksucker motherfucker." Say it fast: "cocksuckermotherfucker." Eh? Incidentally, I've just discovered that the spell checker on Firefox has no problem with either "cocksucker" or "motherfucker," and as well it shouldn't.
I'm still sick, in case you were wondering, but feeling better, although my head is throbbing once again. Good night!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Still Sick...
So this morning I went to work for an hour and a half to set things up for the site visit I'm going on tomorrow, then I went home to rest. The trip was supposed to be today, but I postponed it yesterday, thinking I should be fine by tomorrow. Man, why did I think I only needed another day to recover? Right now it feels like I could use the rest of the week. Whatever, I'm out of sick days anyway, although I still have vacation time. Yowsa. All day the pressure in my sinuses has been giving me a headache, so took a nap and I've just taken something to relieve the pressure as well as an analgesic, and that seems to be working. I'm also getting that hacking, asthmatic cough that feels like phlegm wants to come out but can't. I need to take an expectorant of some sort but I dunno what to take. I think I'll take some Robitussin later, if we have it in the medicine cabinet. If not, fuck it, I'm sleeping it off and hoping for the best tomorrow. At least I have to be on site at nine tomorrow morning, instead of the usual eight.
On the bright side, I've finally gotten my hands on the Botany Sessions, and I got a lot of reading done today. I think tonight I'll read by the record player and give Music from Big Pink a spin again, or maybe the Monkees. Or New Morning, or John Wesley Harding, or...I swear, if it weren't for music and books, days off aren't all that fun.
On the bright side, I've finally gotten my hands on the Botany Sessions, and I got a lot of reading done today. I think tonight I'll read by the record player and give Music from Big Pink a spin again, or maybe the Monkees. Or New Morning, or John Wesley Harding, or...I swear, if it weren't for music and books, days off aren't all that fun.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Little Red Haired Girls
Wow, September already. It doesn't feel that long since my last entry, but I guess it has been that long. Anyway, I think I'm going to make this blog more like a journal. We'll see how long I can keep this up.
So, today I'm sick. Actually, I got sick on Saturday afternoon. I'd just come home from watching Shoot 'Em Up (which is hilarious) when my immune system just decided to go bonkers on me. Nevertheless, I really wanted to eat crabcakes, so I went with my sister and her daughter to the mall to have some for dinner. On Sunday I tried my best to rest and did nothing else but vacuum and drive to the airport and back. Oh, I saw Executive Decision again after seeing it in the cinemas when it came out, what, over a decade ago? Man, it's been a while. It's a good movie. Remember that one?
Today at work, I found out that the new guy coming to head my department is gay. I was surprised not so much by the fact that he is gay but because my boss is a pretty staunch Catholic. In my mind I began to wonder whether my boss had wanted to back out but couldn't for fear of some sort of litigation, but I don't think he's an ass like that. I left work early because I still wasn't feeling all that well. I still don't.
So this book I'm reading now is called The Fourth Bear and it's by this Welsh guy, Jasper Fforde, who people who read know about, but I'd never heard of it before just happening on the book at a Borders last month. Anyway, there's this one scene I read tonight where Jack Spratt's kid tells Jack about how he tried to get a girl to notice him by reading Tristram Shandy, because she'd told him she liked Lawrence Sterne. Then the kid finds out that she actually had said "Lawrence's turn," referring to a boy she dated. This had happened before when the kid studied Keats only to find out that the girl actually loved "kids." It kind of reminded me of that time I read Pride and Prejudice in high school because a girl I liked was told me she was reading it, and then later on I found out that she hated Pride and Prejudice. Heh.
Then I went on Wikipedia and read up on Peanuts and Joe Shlabotnik and the Little Red Haired Girl and Charles Schulz and was reminded that Schulz had a real Little Red Haired Girl called Donna Johnson whom he proposed to but she turned him down and soon after married a fireman...
So, today I'm sick. Actually, I got sick on Saturday afternoon. I'd just come home from watching Shoot 'Em Up (which is hilarious) when my immune system just decided to go bonkers on me. Nevertheless, I really wanted to eat crabcakes, so I went with my sister and her daughter to the mall to have some for dinner. On Sunday I tried my best to rest and did nothing else but vacuum and drive to the airport and back. Oh, I saw Executive Decision again after seeing it in the cinemas when it came out, what, over a decade ago? Man, it's been a while. It's a good movie. Remember that one?
Today at work, I found out that the new guy coming to head my department is gay. I was surprised not so much by the fact that he is gay but because my boss is a pretty staunch Catholic. In my mind I began to wonder whether my boss had wanted to back out but couldn't for fear of some sort of litigation, but I don't think he's an ass like that. I left work early because I still wasn't feeling all that well. I still don't.
So this book I'm reading now is called The Fourth Bear and it's by this Welsh guy, Jasper Fforde, who people who read know about, but I'd never heard of it before just happening on the book at a Borders last month. Anyway, there's this one scene I read tonight where Jack Spratt's kid tells Jack about how he tried to get a girl to notice him by reading Tristram Shandy, because she'd told him she liked Lawrence Sterne. Then the kid finds out that she actually had said "Lawrence's turn," referring to a boy she dated. This had happened before when the kid studied Keats only to find out that the girl actually loved "kids." It kind of reminded me of that time I read Pride and Prejudice in high school because a girl I liked was told me she was reading it, and then later on I found out that she hated Pride and Prejudice. Heh.
Then I went on Wikipedia and read up on Peanuts and Joe Shlabotnik and the Little Red Haired Girl and Charles Schulz and was reminded that Schulz had a real Little Red Haired Girl called Donna Johnson whom he proposed to but she turned him down and soon after married a fireman...
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Dead
Hello, August.
Do you guys think about death a lot? I never really did, not even during that time when I was what my mom would call a "gloomy Gus." Because what is death, really? Isn't it just that one moment when you cease to exist? When your heart beats its last beat and your brain waves its last wave? Because before that moment is life, obviously, and we can't really call the state after that moment "death" because our bodies would have no clue that they were once alive since our consciousness or our soul or whatever you want to call it will have left. So while the living may refer to us as being "dead," our bodies are not really "being" anything. They're lifeless and unaware of anything, like a twig or a fallen leaf.
So really, whenever I do think of death, I think something along the lines of, "I hope I don't drown or suffocate," or "It would suck to die of hunger or thirst," or "I really hope I go to sleep and just never wake up. That would be nice." Otherwise, I don't think about it at all. But I think about the afterlife a lot. That's the part that comes after the moment of death.
I think about the afterlife a lot.
Really, there are only two options when it comes to the afterlife: either 1) there is one, and 2) there isn't one. I would like to think there is one because 1) it wouldn't be all that fun if all we had was 75 years or so on earth, and 2) I'd like for there to be a reason for all those Christmases I'd patiently waited until 12 am on the 26th to finally blow a load.
If there is an afterlife (and I certainly hope so), I have a pretty good idea of what I want to be there. The first would be a database of some sort where I would be able to look up any mystery on earth I could think of and find the answer. Where are Mozart and Jimmy Hoffa buried? Just type it in and find out. Is that guy in the photo really Jimmy Carroll? Did Jose Mangual really play percussion on that track? How old really is Andrea's mom? How do you read elvish? I think it would be fair that all the questions that were never answered while we were alive be answered when we move on.
The second thing I'd like to have in the afterlife is a kind of video game where you can go back to various points in your life and do things differently and see how things end up. What if that night you'd told her that you were a huge Buffy, Angel, and Firefly fan? Would that get you anywhere? What if you said you just loved Blue Oyster Cult, AC/DC, and Metallica? What if you said you were into Celtic runes and knots, and Celtic and Pagan music? How would things have turned out? What if you'd leaned over and, well... Didn't work out? Try something else--try not making that remark about your bookstore co-worker being cranky because "she probably had her period or something."
I wonder, will I still want all this in the afterlife when I'm much older? I hope to live a fulfilling enough life to not have to concern myself with such stupidity when I get there. I hope we all do.
Do you guys think about death a lot? I never really did, not even during that time when I was what my mom would call a "gloomy Gus." Because what is death, really? Isn't it just that one moment when you cease to exist? When your heart beats its last beat and your brain waves its last wave? Because before that moment is life, obviously, and we can't really call the state after that moment "death" because our bodies would have no clue that they were once alive since our consciousness or our soul or whatever you want to call it will have left. So while the living may refer to us as being "dead," our bodies are not really "being" anything. They're lifeless and unaware of anything, like a twig or a fallen leaf.
So really, whenever I do think of death, I think something along the lines of, "I hope I don't drown or suffocate," or "It would suck to die of hunger or thirst," or "I really hope I go to sleep and just never wake up. That would be nice." Otherwise, I don't think about it at all. But I think about the afterlife a lot. That's the part that comes after the moment of death.
I think about the afterlife a lot.
Really, there are only two options when it comes to the afterlife: either 1) there is one, and 2) there isn't one. I would like to think there is one because 1) it wouldn't be all that fun if all we had was 75 years or so on earth, and 2) I'd like for there to be a reason for all those Christmases I'd patiently waited until 12 am on the 26th to finally blow a load.
If there is an afterlife (and I certainly hope so), I have a pretty good idea of what I want to be there. The first would be a database of some sort where I would be able to look up any mystery on earth I could think of and find the answer. Where are Mozart and Jimmy Hoffa buried? Just type it in and find out. Is that guy in the photo really Jimmy Carroll? Did Jose Mangual really play percussion on that track? How old really is Andrea's mom? How do you read elvish? I think it would be fair that all the questions that were never answered while we were alive be answered when we move on.
The second thing I'd like to have in the afterlife is a kind of video game where you can go back to various points in your life and do things differently and see how things end up. What if that night you'd told her that you were a huge Buffy, Angel, and Firefly fan? Would that get you anywhere? What if you said you just loved Blue Oyster Cult, AC/DC, and Metallica? What if you said you were into Celtic runes and knots, and Celtic and Pagan music? How would things have turned out? What if you'd leaned over and, well... Didn't work out? Try something else--try not making that remark about your bookstore co-worker being cranky because "she probably had her period or something."
I wonder, will I still want all this in the afterlife when I'm much older? I hope to live a fulfilling enough life to not have to concern myself with such stupidity when I get there. I hope we all do.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Adventures in Nerdom
Last night Enrique and I went to the bookstore at the University of Maryland to wait for our copies of the last Harry Potter book. It was the smart place to go to--there weren't a lot of people there, and within 5 minutes of midnight we both had our copies paid for. There was a little fiasco though with Enrique's dumb cashier who didn't know how to put in my membership number for an extra discount. After a couple of minutes of panicking over it, we told her fuck it and he bought the book without the extra discount. Man, the people in line behind us must have been so pissed, but shit, I thought it was hilarious.
On our way back to the car we passed through the engineering building and when we were really near the door out to the parking lot where the car was, we met a cop, a real tough-guy-looking cop, with no beer belly, with a Glock and a bulletproof vest and all. He said words like 'fuck' and 'shit'; it was totally awesome. Except he was wearing booties. See, there was a mercury spill in the building, and it had been locked down. When he saw us in there, he was like, 'how did you get in here?' I imagined that maybe he thought we were secret agent-types whom no locked doors can stop, but really all we did was push a door open. The fucked up thing was that we were already at the end of the building we wanted to get to when he saw us, and he had us walk all the way back to the other end of the building, i dunno, maybe exposing us to even more mercury.
I dunno, maybe I will die of mercury poisoning imminently. I should finish that book soon then. Why am I even writing this?
On our way back to the car we passed through the engineering building and when we were really near the door out to the parking lot where the car was, we met a cop, a real tough-guy-looking cop, with no beer belly, with a Glock and a bulletproof vest and all. He said words like 'fuck' and 'shit'; it was totally awesome. Except he was wearing booties. See, there was a mercury spill in the building, and it had been locked down. When he saw us in there, he was like, 'how did you get in here?' I imagined that maybe he thought we were secret agent-types whom no locked doors can stop, but really all we did was push a door open. The fucked up thing was that we were already at the end of the building we wanted to get to when he saw us, and he had us walk all the way back to the other end of the building, i dunno, maybe exposing us to even more mercury.
I dunno, maybe I will die of mercury poisoning imminently. I should finish that book soon then. Why am I even writing this?
Thursday, July 19, 2007
One Soul Less
So last week I bought an itrip to let me listen to my mp3 player in the car. Today I went for a longish drive a coupla cities down and a song got to me. I'd heard it before, but it was only today that it really hit me. Another song to call my own, yet here I am telling you mooks about it. It's called 'One Soul Less on Your Fiery List' by the Triffids. It's in the album 'In the Pines,' not sure if it's only in the reissue, though.
Higher and higher....
Later, kids
Higher and higher....
Later, kids
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Strange Obsessions
A year ago or so, I wrote about Wonderfalls, which I'd stumbled on in an LGBT channel. Yesterday, the DVD of the complete series came in the mail and I watched a few episodes, and the show is as good as I remember it.
Last week, on the 5th, I'd taken the day off, and the Sci-Fi channel was showing a 'Dead Like Me' marathon. Before that I'd only seen one or two episodes of that show, and thought it was really good, and seeing some of the marathon made me want to see everything else.
So earlier this week, it dawned on me--I have a job! Income! Why am I holding out on buying stuff I know is worth it? So I didn't hold out. I was prodigal, and now I've got both Wonderfalls and Dead Like Me in my small DVD collection.
It's no coincidence that the leads in these two shows are both adorable women. I've always had this really weird habit of becoming infatuated with actresses. Let's run through the pathetic list in as chronological an order as I can manage:
1. Winona Ryder
2. Famke Janssen
3. Catherine Keener
4. Caroline Dhavernas
5. Ellen Muth
6. Liane Balaban
I guess the list becomes more obscure as time goes on...Caroline Dhavernas is the girl in Wonderfalls. Ellen Muth is in Dead Like Me. She gets cuter and cuter the more one watches the show. Liane Balaban is in the movie 'New Waterford Girl' with Andrew McCarthy and Cathy Moriarty. At first I couldn't believe that Bob Balaban had such a hot daughter, but they're not related.
So that's it. Anybody reading this, feel free to let us know who you like in the comments box. Later.
Last week, on the 5th, I'd taken the day off, and the Sci-Fi channel was showing a 'Dead Like Me' marathon. Before that I'd only seen one or two episodes of that show, and thought it was really good, and seeing some of the marathon made me want to see everything else.
So earlier this week, it dawned on me--I have a job! Income! Why am I holding out on buying stuff I know is worth it? So I didn't hold out. I was prodigal, and now I've got both Wonderfalls and Dead Like Me in my small DVD collection.
It's no coincidence that the leads in these two shows are both adorable women. I've always had this really weird habit of becoming infatuated with actresses. Let's run through the pathetic list in as chronological an order as I can manage:
1. Winona Ryder
2. Famke Janssen
3. Catherine Keener
4. Caroline Dhavernas
5. Ellen Muth
6. Liane Balaban
I guess the list becomes more obscure as time goes on...Caroline Dhavernas is the girl in Wonderfalls. Ellen Muth is in Dead Like Me. She gets cuter and cuter the more one watches the show. Liane Balaban is in the movie 'New Waterford Girl' with Andrew McCarthy and Cathy Moriarty. At first I couldn't believe that Bob Balaban had such a hot daughter, but they're not related.
So that's it. Anybody reading this, feel free to let us know who you like in the comments box. Later.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Exercise in Futility
Hiya folks. I'm bored but I have nothing to write about, so I figured that I'd dig this up and see how my answers have changed in the last two and some years. And so, the streamlined version of this questionnaire I grabbed from Dex a coupla years back:
2. WHAT COLOR PANTS ARE YOU WEARING?
Old Answer: plaid boxers
New Answer: striped boxers (!)
3. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
OA: I just listened to my copy of rubber soul to see whether it really was broken or not. It's broken, alas.
NA: Just finished Dylan's John Wesley Harding album.
4. THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
OA: a grape
NA: a cookie
5. DO YOU WISH ON STARS?
OA: no. actually yes. no. really, no.
NA: That was me trying to be funny two years ago. I really don't
7. HOW IS THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW?
OA: bit cold but better than a few weeks ago
NA: Hot, hot, hot! The paper tells me it may have been as hot as 98 degrees today. That's close to 40 for you celsius people.
8. WHO IS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED ON THE PHONE?
OA: my sister
NA: my mom...it's more pathetic this time round
9. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT YOU THIS?
OA: that's an emphatic yes!
NA: Last time I got this from Dex. Now I got it from me. So no.
10. HOW OLD ARE YOU TODAY?
OA: 20.
NA: 23. Weird. Old-er.
11. FAVORITE DRINK?
OA: water. if you don't drink it, you'll like die
NA: still water. but non-water? OJ. Always OJ.
12. HAIR COLOR?
OA: if you look carefully it's actually brown
NA: that hasn't changed, although there's more gray now.
13. M&M's OR REESE'S PIECES?
OA: dead even
NA: I think peanut M&M's beat Reese's.
14. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
OA: no
NA: still no, but my eyesight has worsened, and I think I may have night blindness.
15. SIBLINGS?
OA: one older sister
NA: my mom's had a hysterectomy since, so I doubt I will be having any new siblings.
16 FAVORITE MONTH?
OA: the ones when school's out
NA: ha ha, I can't say that anymore. I like the spring months when it's not too cold but not too hot either. And the ladies wear the skirts.
17. FAVORITE FOOD?
OA: you can never go wrong with some dimsum-m-m
NA: yeah, I still like that stuff, but recently I've been looking for man food all the time--you know--wings, ribs, burgers, steaks, etc.
18. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
OA: probably something i happened upon on tv. but one i meant to watch? i think it was kieslowski's 'blanc'
NA: I saw Ratatouille yesterday. Very good movie. Made me hungry.
19. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
OA: feb 29
NA: haw haw! Christmas, I guess.
20. WHAT DO YOU DO TO VENT ANGER?
OA: masturbate. actually, that's my answer to everything.
NA: ew! I bash my guitar up good. I've also taken up running.
21. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
OA: the ninja turtles' blimp was pretty rad
NA: yeah, I suppose the blimp was the coolest. Castle Grayskull was pretty cool too. So were those Ghostbuster guns, especially the proton pack with the PKE meter. That stands for psychokinetic energy, if you've forgotten.
22. SUMMER OR WINTER?
OA: summer. always summer. i loathe snow
NA: still the same.
23. HUGS OR KISSES?
OA: hugs AND kisses for me!
NA: well, if you get a kiss, don't you automatically get a hug too? So kisses.
24. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
OA: chocolate AND vanilla for me!
NA: Going for the witty parallelism there. Chocolate is always better.
28. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS?
OA: with the family in waspville, usa
NA: still the same. Sometimes i feel like working on that, but I feel I need more finances to be comfortable.
29. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
OA: I'm a man. Men don't cry.
Every night, before i sleep
NA: that old answer wasn't very sincere. I can't remember. I don't think it was too long ago. Probably tears of rage, as Dylan put it.
30. WHAT IS UNDER YOUR BED?
OA: a copy of the silmarillion i will probably never finish
NA: that book is now sitting on my shelf. Now there is nothing under my bed. A monster, perhaps.
31. WHO IS THE FRIEND YOU HAVE HAD THE LONGEST?
OA: Brett but I think he got pissed at me ever since i started asking my for my cd's back from him and didnt want to give him my beck cd. plus it's kind of hard keeping in touch. so with that, i guess it's joe. he never reads this blog even though i tell him to
NA: Still Brett. He wasn't pissed about those CDs. Joe is second. This is just the order I met them, and I love them both. Joe has since begun reading this blog, and only he reads this shit.
32. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT?
OA: weird. my friend enrique called me out of the blue to ask to use my internet. so he did java while i did structures while listening to star wars. then we watched some porn. male-bonding thing, you know
NA: I watched Ratatouille, then at home I watched this show called Supernatural. My friend Margaret got me into it. It's a good show, but I think it's more of a girl's show. But whatever, it's camp and it can be very funny and freaky at times. Last night, this guy thought he was fighting a 'mandroid.' It was fucking hilarious, I hope the writers meant for it to be that way
33. FAVORITE SMELLS?
OA: some burberry perfume that a former friend used (still does, perhaps?). It made me know the meaning of bittersweet.
NA: awww...these days I don't really know. I like the smell of good food. When Sophie was a baby and they took her to the Philippines, everytime I missed her I would smell some of her old clothes. It's creepy, I know.
34. WHAT INSPIRES YOU?
OA: Lurve. I'm so gay
NA: I guess I'm still gay. Also beauty. Gay? Doubly so.
35. WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?
OA: Sudden loud noises. You should have seen me when my dad tried to make me shoot a gun. I'm sure he's never forgiven me for the shame i caused him that day
NA: I think I've made progress with that. Now? Maybe failure, or rejection, I don't know. Sometimes I feel the world will figure out I'm a fraud. I don't know if I really am one or not. I hope not.
36. PLAIN, BUTTERED OR SALTED POPCORN?
OA: Once when we were kids my cousin and I finished half a bucket of barbecue-flavored (we pinoys are very creative with our popcorn) between ourselves and ever since I don't touch the stuff.
NA: this hasn't changed for me. Although if I'm watching a movie with someone, and they're having popcorn, I'll have some if it's buttered. Oh, and I recently tried kettle corn for the first time. That stuff is delicious.
37. FAVORITE CAR?
OA: Those that don't run on petroleum, which i'm afraid to say i myself don't drive. but if you own a hummer, never talk to me, you inconsiderate little person. shame on you.
NA: Environmentally conscious, are we? Hybrids are nice, yeah, but my dream car is a Ferrari Dino.
38. FAVORITE FLOWER?
OA: orchids are nice
NA: Jesus, I dunno.
39. NUMBER OF KEYS ON YOUR KEY RING?
OA: four, including one that has absolutely no purpose except opening parcels
NA: Ha, this has changed since I started working. Let's see...one for the car, one for the house. Four for the office. So that's 6. Plus that old CVS discount card is still hanging on.
40. CAN YOU JUGGLE?
OA: two things is my max
NA: oddly enough, this has changed, too. In the summer of 05, out of sheer boredom, I taught myself to juggle 3 things. The kids love it. The ladies are unimpressed.
41. FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK?
OA: fridays have been kind to me so far
NA: Yes Fridays are nice, but Saturdays are better except that they're followed by Sundays.
42. WHAT DID YOU DO ON YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY?
OA: i had a final and then had some mongolian barbecue with my buds. then we went to the house and watched the real cancun. that movie is so bad. don't watch it ever, not even for the tits. seriously, you're better off using your imagination.
NA: I can't remember. We may have had pizza at home. Nothing special, because we were holding off for my dad's arrival and my graduation. And what we did then, I wrote about two posts down...
43. HOW MANY STATES HAVE YOU LIVED IN?
OA: The philippines and maryland make three.
NA: Someone once asked me what the third was. That was a variation of a joke a Jazz professor once told: "There are three kinds of musicians--those who can count, and those who can't." So I have only lived in two places.
44. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
OA: Manila, Philippines
NA: That has not changed
45. WHAT'S WITH YOUR SCREENNAME?
OA: I know, right? It's like so uncreative. It's just my name.
NA: Still just my name, and I've had a monopoly on it since 97. I wonder if the famous chef who shares my name is bothered by this.
2. WHAT COLOR PANTS ARE YOU WEARING?
Old Answer: plaid boxers
New Answer: striped boxers (!)
3. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
OA: I just listened to my copy of rubber soul to see whether it really was broken or not. It's broken, alas.
NA: Just finished Dylan's John Wesley Harding album.
4. THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
OA: a grape
NA: a cookie
5. DO YOU WISH ON STARS?
OA: no. actually yes. no. really, no.
NA: That was me trying to be funny two years ago. I really don't
7. HOW IS THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW?
OA: bit cold but better than a few weeks ago
NA: Hot, hot, hot! The paper tells me it may have been as hot as 98 degrees today. That's close to 40 for you celsius people.
8. WHO IS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED ON THE PHONE?
OA: my sister
NA: my mom...it's more pathetic this time round
9. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT YOU THIS?
OA: that's an emphatic yes!
NA: Last time I got this from Dex. Now I got it from me. So no.
10. HOW OLD ARE YOU TODAY?
OA: 20.
NA: 23. Weird. Old-er.
11. FAVORITE DRINK?
OA: water. if you don't drink it, you'll like die
NA: still water. but non-water? OJ. Always OJ.
12. HAIR COLOR?
OA: if you look carefully it's actually brown
NA: that hasn't changed, although there's more gray now.
13. M&M's OR REESE'S PIECES?
OA: dead even
NA: I think peanut M&M's beat Reese's.
14. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
OA: no
NA: still no, but my eyesight has worsened, and I think I may have night blindness.
15. SIBLINGS?
OA: one older sister
NA: my mom's had a hysterectomy since, so I doubt I will be having any new siblings.
16 FAVORITE MONTH?
OA: the ones when school's out
NA: ha ha, I can't say that anymore. I like the spring months when it's not too cold but not too hot either. And the ladies wear the skirts.
17. FAVORITE FOOD?
OA: you can never go wrong with some dimsum-m-m
NA: yeah, I still like that stuff, but recently I've been looking for man food all the time--you know--wings, ribs, burgers, steaks, etc.
18. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
OA: probably something i happened upon on tv. but one i meant to watch? i think it was kieslowski's 'blanc'
NA: I saw Ratatouille yesterday. Very good movie. Made me hungry.
19. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
OA: feb 29
NA: haw haw! Christmas, I guess.
20. WHAT DO YOU DO TO VENT ANGER?
OA: masturbate. actually, that's my answer to everything.
NA: ew! I bash my guitar up good. I've also taken up running.
21. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
OA: the ninja turtles' blimp was pretty rad
NA: yeah, I suppose the blimp was the coolest. Castle Grayskull was pretty cool too. So were those Ghostbuster guns, especially the proton pack with the PKE meter. That stands for psychokinetic energy, if you've forgotten.
22. SUMMER OR WINTER?
OA: summer. always summer. i loathe snow
NA: still the same.
23. HUGS OR KISSES?
OA: hugs AND kisses for me!
NA: well, if you get a kiss, don't you automatically get a hug too? So kisses.
24. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
OA: chocolate AND vanilla for me!
NA: Going for the witty parallelism there. Chocolate is always better.
28. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS?
OA: with the family in waspville, usa
NA: still the same. Sometimes i feel like working on that, but I feel I need more finances to be comfortable.
29. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
OA: I'm a man. Men don't cry.
Every night, before i sleep
NA: that old answer wasn't very sincere. I can't remember. I don't think it was too long ago. Probably tears of rage, as Dylan put it.
30. WHAT IS UNDER YOUR BED?
OA: a copy of the silmarillion i will probably never finish
NA: that book is now sitting on my shelf. Now there is nothing under my bed. A monster, perhaps.
31. WHO IS THE FRIEND YOU HAVE HAD THE LONGEST?
OA: Brett but I think he got pissed at me ever since i started asking my for my cd's back from him and didnt want to give him my beck cd. plus it's kind of hard keeping in touch. so with that, i guess it's joe. he never reads this blog even though i tell him to
NA: Still Brett. He wasn't pissed about those CDs. Joe is second. This is just the order I met them, and I love them both. Joe has since begun reading this blog, and only he reads this shit.
32. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT?
OA: weird. my friend enrique called me out of the blue to ask to use my internet. so he did java while i did structures while listening to star wars. then we watched some porn. male-bonding thing, you know
NA: I watched Ratatouille, then at home I watched this show called Supernatural. My friend Margaret got me into it. It's a good show, but I think it's more of a girl's show. But whatever, it's camp and it can be very funny and freaky at times. Last night, this guy thought he was fighting a 'mandroid.' It was fucking hilarious, I hope the writers meant for it to be that way
33. FAVORITE SMELLS?
OA: some burberry perfume that a former friend used (still does, perhaps?). It made me know the meaning of bittersweet.
NA: awww...these days I don't really know. I like the smell of good food. When Sophie was a baby and they took her to the Philippines, everytime I missed her I would smell some of her old clothes. It's creepy, I know.
34. WHAT INSPIRES YOU?
OA: Lurve. I'm so gay
NA: I guess I'm still gay. Also beauty. Gay? Doubly so.
35. WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?
OA: Sudden loud noises. You should have seen me when my dad tried to make me shoot a gun. I'm sure he's never forgiven me for the shame i caused him that day
NA: I think I've made progress with that. Now? Maybe failure, or rejection, I don't know. Sometimes I feel the world will figure out I'm a fraud. I don't know if I really am one or not. I hope not.
36. PLAIN, BUTTERED OR SALTED POPCORN?
OA: Once when we were kids my cousin and I finished half a bucket of barbecue-flavored (we pinoys are very creative with our popcorn) between ourselves and ever since I don't touch the stuff.
NA: this hasn't changed for me. Although if I'm watching a movie with someone, and they're having popcorn, I'll have some if it's buttered. Oh, and I recently tried kettle corn for the first time. That stuff is delicious.
37. FAVORITE CAR?
OA: Those that don't run on petroleum, which i'm afraid to say i myself don't drive. but if you own a hummer, never talk to me, you inconsiderate little person. shame on you.
NA: Environmentally conscious, are we? Hybrids are nice, yeah, but my dream car is a Ferrari Dino.
38. FAVORITE FLOWER?
OA: orchids are nice
NA: Jesus, I dunno.
39. NUMBER OF KEYS ON YOUR KEY RING?
OA: four, including one that has absolutely no purpose except opening parcels
NA: Ha, this has changed since I started working. Let's see...one for the car, one for the house. Four for the office. So that's 6. Plus that old CVS discount card is still hanging on.
40. CAN YOU JUGGLE?
OA: two things is my max
NA: oddly enough, this has changed, too. In the summer of 05, out of sheer boredom, I taught myself to juggle 3 things. The kids love it. The ladies are unimpressed.
41. FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK?
OA: fridays have been kind to me so far
NA: Yes Fridays are nice, but Saturdays are better except that they're followed by Sundays.
42. WHAT DID YOU DO ON YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY?
OA: i had a final and then had some mongolian barbecue with my buds. then we went to the house and watched the real cancun. that movie is so bad. don't watch it ever, not even for the tits. seriously, you're better off using your imagination.
NA: I can't remember. We may have had pizza at home. Nothing special, because we were holding off for my dad's arrival and my graduation. And what we did then, I wrote about two posts down...
43. HOW MANY STATES HAVE YOU LIVED IN?
OA: The philippines and maryland make three.
NA: Someone once asked me what the third was. That was a variation of a joke a Jazz professor once told: "There are three kinds of musicians--those who can count, and those who can't." So I have only lived in two places.
44. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
OA: Manila, Philippines
NA: That has not changed
45. WHAT'S WITH YOUR SCREENNAME?
OA: I know, right? It's like so uncreative. It's just my name.
NA: Still just my name, and I've had a monopoly on it since 97. I wonder if the famous chef who shares my name is bothered by this.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
It's Been a While
Hiya, folks. It's been a while indeed since I last wrote on this thing. June has come and gone, with not much to report, just the same old life, love, and loss, to be vague yet overly dramatic about it.
...Okay, fine, I suppose I owe you more than that. The big thing in June for me was that I met a girl I really liked. After three dates, she decided we'd be better off as friends. Yeah, it really sucks, but I'm glad we're friends anyway. She's a special girl, got the full package--beauty, intelligence, grace, all of it in ridiculous amounts. Completely without artifice. Ouch. You know that Dylan song 'Love Minus Zero/No Limit?" That song is her. I wanted to be everything she wanted and needed in a man, but, as fate would have it, I couldn't manage that (naturally). Anyways, I move on, in more ways than one...
I have a new computer, a laptop. With one gig of RAM it's slow. I'm not too fond of Vista.
My blog profile's been viewed 205 times. I finally broke the 200 mark. If I were a girl I would have hit 200 two years ago.
Basic Instinct 2 was on TV last night. I didn't watch it, despite the prospect of seeing Sharon Stone's boobs yet again. However, the guy who plays the Michael Douglas-type role in this one is named David Morrissey. What's in a name? I began to imagine he looked like our old friend Steven Patrick Morrissey, and I figured they might be brothers, but IMDB tells me otherwise. What's in a name, indeed.
Later, folks
...Okay, fine, I suppose I owe you more than that. The big thing in June for me was that I met a girl I really liked. After three dates, she decided we'd be better off as friends. Yeah, it really sucks, but I'm glad we're friends anyway. She's a special girl, got the full package--beauty, intelligence, grace, all of it in ridiculous amounts. Completely without artifice. Ouch. You know that Dylan song 'Love Minus Zero/No Limit?" That song is her. I wanted to be everything she wanted and needed in a man, but, as fate would have it, I couldn't manage that (naturally). Anyways, I move on, in more ways than one...
I have a new computer, a laptop. With one gig of RAM it's slow. I'm not too fond of Vista.
My blog profile's been viewed 205 times. I finally broke the 200 mark. If I were a girl I would have hit 200 two years ago.
Basic Instinct 2 was on TV last night. I didn't watch it, despite the prospect of seeing Sharon Stone's boobs yet again. However, the guy who plays the Michael Douglas-type role in this one is named David Morrissey. What's in a name? I began to imagine he looked like our old friend Steven Patrick Morrissey, and I figured they might be brothers, but IMDB tells me otherwise. What's in a name, indeed.
Later, folks
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Graduation Blues
I officially graduated last night.
The ceremony started at 7:30 at night, so we planned to leave the house at 5:30 to get there a little early to find parking and good seats. But, as usual, the sister took too long getting ready, and dad took a while too, so we ended up leaving the house at 6:00. I guess I should've known that if we'd wanted to actually leave at 5:30, we should have made plans to leave at 5:00.
When we were about a mile away from the house already, I freaked out. "Is my hat there?" I asked the folks at the backseat. "Yes, I brought it," my dad answered. "Is the tassle there?" I asked. After a few seconds of rummaging through the backseat, the answer came: "No." Shit! We have to go back! Another delay.
This little detour didn't take long, maybe five minutes, but we were already running late--parking would be hard to find. But we made our way, slowly but surely. My pants began to vibrate. It was a school buddy calling. "Where are you?" he asked me. "I'm on my way," I replied. "You should have been here half an hour ago for the group photo," he informed me. What can I do, right? So I said, "Oh, well, as long as I get to join the ceremony."
Five minutes later, my phone was vibrating again. Same buddy. "Where are you?" "270," I said. "Oh, God," he said. Things were starting to sound bad. "They don't have you on the list. They want to talk to you. How long will it take you to get here?" I looked at the GPS. 24 minutes, it told me. "About half an hour," I told him. "Just try to get here as soon as you can. I'm putting your name down, but they still want to talk to you."
Maybe twenty minutes later, my phone vibrates a third time. "Where are you?" My buddy asked. "I'm stuck in Georgetown." "Oh, God, you passed Georgetown?! You should have taken the freeway." At this point I was rather frustrated with the GPS which wasn't giving us the directions we wanted. We knew which roads we wanted to take, but we jut didn't know how to get to those roads, and we were hoping that the GPS would tell us. Piece of shit. I was also passing the blame on to my sister, who I made drive, because she's always talking about DC streets with such authority. She has said things like, "______ leads to Dupont Circle," and "M Street" this and that. But as we made our way to school, it started to dawn on me that she was not as familiar with the city as I'd believed she was. Crap.
But eventually we got to school and I just ran into the prep area where I found my friends seated, togas and hats on, ready to head over to the ceremony. So I signed up quickly and joined them. Clearly, the drive up there did not have to be as stressful as it was. All I needed was two minutes to sign up and get my toga on. I did so, and not long after that, we grads began to make our way to the basketball stadium.
As we were lined up outside the stadium, my phone rang. It was my sister. "You were joking us. You got an award." I had told them earlier that I wasn't getting an award. And I really thought I wasn't. "That's news to me. What award?" "The tugfjdkv Award." "Tugfjdkv" is how I hear unusual names when I'm unprepared to hear them. "It's the highest award," my sister told me.
So we sat down, and there was a lot of blah, bah, blah. Then they began calling out cum laudes, asking them to rise as they were called. They called my name. Wow, I thought. No one told me I was cum laude. So I stood up. Then I sat down and then the magnas and summas were called. Then they called out the individual student awards. "Blah, blah, blah, the Benjamin T. Cruickshanks Award blah, blah, blah, graduating senior with the highest academic standard in their major, blah, blah, blah, for civil and environmental engineering..." There was a pause, and the folks giving the awards onstage began to confer with each other. Then, "for computer science..." Hang on! They should have called me for civil! That was my award they were not giving me. Maybe I could've gotten some poon for that (probably not though)!
Long story short, they thought I wasn't there. I had no plans to attend graduation until very recently, and word hadn't gotten out that I was actually there. It worked out in a weird way. I was supposed to have a special seat onstage to receive my award. But since I signed up to graduate very late, I ended up in the very crowded regular seats and would not have been able to claim my award onstage without climbing over the chair in front of me or making half the people in my row stand up to let me through, either way kind of ruining the order of the ceremony.
Okay, I figured. Just get my award later on. No big deal. Then it was the dean of the civil department's, Dr. Roddis, turn to hand out special awards for the civil kids. But she didn't walk straight up to the podium. She first went to the table with all the awards laid out on it and talked to the people there. Then she walked up to the podium and said, "First of all, Richard Sandoval received the Benjamin T. Cruickshanks award for civil engineering and I would like to ask Richard to stand up and be recognized." So I stood up, and a photographer with a big camera took a photo of me. It was pretty surreal, and I didn't even notice if people applauded. I'm guessing they did. Anyway, I thought it was nice of Dr. Roddis to have noticed that I was there and to call me out like that. When I went on stage with all the other grads to get the medal they give all the grads, I shook Dr. Roddis' hand and she said, "I have something extra for you. Sorry for the mix-up." I replied--rather vaguely, I imagine--"Oh, no, I was late."
So eventually, the ceremony ended, and the family went to Ruby Tuesday to celebrate. I chose that, becaue it wasn't too expensive and we (my family) were treating a lot of people. It felt kind of weird being eating there with a tie on.
The ceremony started at 7:30 at night, so we planned to leave the house at 5:30 to get there a little early to find parking and good seats. But, as usual, the sister took too long getting ready, and dad took a while too, so we ended up leaving the house at 6:00. I guess I should've known that if we'd wanted to actually leave at 5:30, we should have made plans to leave at 5:00.
When we were about a mile away from the house already, I freaked out. "Is my hat there?" I asked the folks at the backseat. "Yes, I brought it," my dad answered. "Is the tassle there?" I asked. After a few seconds of rummaging through the backseat, the answer came: "No." Shit! We have to go back! Another delay.
This little detour didn't take long, maybe five minutes, but we were already running late--parking would be hard to find. But we made our way, slowly but surely. My pants began to vibrate. It was a school buddy calling. "Where are you?" he asked me. "I'm on my way," I replied. "You should have been here half an hour ago for the group photo," he informed me. What can I do, right? So I said, "Oh, well, as long as I get to join the ceremony."
Five minutes later, my phone was vibrating again. Same buddy. "Where are you?" "270," I said. "Oh, God," he said. Things were starting to sound bad. "They don't have you on the list. They want to talk to you. How long will it take you to get here?" I looked at the GPS. 24 minutes, it told me. "About half an hour," I told him. "Just try to get here as soon as you can. I'm putting your name down, but they still want to talk to you."
Maybe twenty minutes later, my phone vibrates a third time. "Where are you?" My buddy asked. "I'm stuck in Georgetown." "Oh, God, you passed Georgetown?! You should have taken the freeway." At this point I was rather frustrated with the GPS which wasn't giving us the directions we wanted. We knew which roads we wanted to take, but we jut didn't know how to get to those roads, and we were hoping that the GPS would tell us. Piece of shit. I was also passing the blame on to my sister, who I made drive, because she's always talking about DC streets with such authority. She has said things like, "______ leads to Dupont Circle," and "M Street" this and that. But as we made our way to school, it started to dawn on me that she was not as familiar with the city as I'd believed she was. Crap.
But eventually we got to school and I just ran into the prep area where I found my friends seated, togas and hats on, ready to head over to the ceremony. So I signed up quickly and joined them. Clearly, the drive up there did not have to be as stressful as it was. All I needed was two minutes to sign up and get my toga on. I did so, and not long after that, we grads began to make our way to the basketball stadium.
As we were lined up outside the stadium, my phone rang. It was my sister. "You were joking us. You got an award." I had told them earlier that I wasn't getting an award. And I really thought I wasn't. "That's news to me. What award?" "The tugfjdkv Award." "Tugfjdkv" is how I hear unusual names when I'm unprepared to hear them. "It's the highest award," my sister told me.
So we sat down, and there was a lot of blah, bah, blah. Then they began calling out cum laudes, asking them to rise as they were called. They called my name. Wow, I thought. No one told me I was cum laude. So I stood up. Then I sat down and then the magnas and summas were called. Then they called out the individual student awards. "Blah, blah, blah, the Benjamin T. Cruickshanks Award blah, blah, blah, graduating senior with the highest academic standard in their major, blah, blah, blah, for civil and environmental engineering..." There was a pause, and the folks giving the awards onstage began to confer with each other. Then, "for computer science..." Hang on! They should have called me for civil! That was my award they were not giving me. Maybe I could've gotten some poon for that (probably not though)!
Long story short, they thought I wasn't there. I had no plans to attend graduation until very recently, and word hadn't gotten out that I was actually there. It worked out in a weird way. I was supposed to have a special seat onstage to receive my award. But since I signed up to graduate very late, I ended up in the very crowded regular seats and would not have been able to claim my award onstage without climbing over the chair in front of me or making half the people in my row stand up to let me through, either way kind of ruining the order of the ceremony.
Okay, I figured. Just get my award later on. No big deal. Then it was the dean of the civil department's, Dr. Roddis, turn to hand out special awards for the civil kids. But she didn't walk straight up to the podium. She first went to the table with all the awards laid out on it and talked to the people there. Then she walked up to the podium and said, "First of all, Richard Sandoval received the Benjamin T. Cruickshanks award for civil engineering and I would like to ask Richard to stand up and be recognized." So I stood up, and a photographer with a big camera took a photo of me. It was pretty surreal, and I didn't even notice if people applauded. I'm guessing they did. Anyway, I thought it was nice of Dr. Roddis to have noticed that I was there and to call me out like that. When I went on stage with all the other grads to get the medal they give all the grads, I shook Dr. Roddis' hand and she said, "I have something extra for you. Sorry for the mix-up." I replied--rather vaguely, I imagine--"Oh, no, I was late."
So eventually, the ceremony ended, and the family went to Ruby Tuesday to celebrate. I chose that, becaue it wasn't too expensive and we (my family) were treating a lot of people. It felt kind of weird being eating there with a tie on.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Counting Crowes
I wonder what Cameron Crowe does in between movies. I'm watching Elizabethtown right now and I just saw the part where Kirsten Dunst and Orlando Bloom are talking to each other on their cell phones and they meet up, talking to each other the whole way. And I realize that Cameron Crowe probably sits around all day just thinking of cool, romantic things to put in his movies. I bet he has a big old chair he sits in, just thinking, until finally..."He holds a boombox up to her bedroom window! Oh, shit, I got a movie right there!" Or, "'I was just nowhere near your neighborhood'...oh yeah, there's another one!"
It appears that Orlando Bloom's a really stiff actor, no wonder he made a good elf.
And on a totally unrelated note, my niece yesterday was singing, "Lisa, her teeth are big and green..." and I didn't even tell her to sing that. Pretty rad, huh? A couple of days ago I asked her what she wanted to listen to, and she goes "Kate and Anna," as in McGarrigle. I see great things for this little three-year-old
It appears that Orlando Bloom's a really stiff actor, no wonder he made a good elf.
And on a totally unrelated note, my niece yesterday was singing, "Lisa, her teeth are big and green..." and I didn't even tell her to sing that. Pretty rad, huh? A couple of days ago I asked her what she wanted to listen to, and she goes "Kate and Anna," as in McGarrigle. I see great things for this little three-year-old
Thursday, March 15, 2007
A World of My Own
Last night I had dinner with some friends, and I made a big point of bringing the albums I'd just gotten my hands on that very day, Amy Winehouse's Back to Black and Karen Dalton's In My Own Time.
Everyone was okay with the Amy Winehouse record--which we listened to on the way to dinner--obviously, because she's a superstar waiting to happen. But on the way back from dinner, we popped in Karen Dalton's record and everyone began to make fun of how bad Karen Dalton's voice was.
The funny thing is that it really hurt my feelings when they began to make fun of her. This is never the kind of thing that bothers me, because I never give a shit about what other people think and, in fact, I prefer it whenever they don't like something I like, because whatever that thing is becomes another one of the things I can call my own, as far as I'm concerned within my own little world.
I guess it bothered me last night because I went out on a limb to share that music with them. I'm very possessive of the music I discover; I can't just trust the average person with it because they're sure to hook onto the most obvious aspect of the music (such as Karen's "ugly" voice) and not much else and bastardize it in a way. So I considered all that, then they made fun of it...
It also bothered me to see that while I was being so moved by the music, they were laughing. It was so beautiful. Karen's voice was cracking. I could hear so much emotion in her voice, I thought she was crying. I was beginning to cry myself. And they were laughing...
It doesn't bother me anymore, certainly not as much as it did last night. Thank goodness they thought Karen had a bad voice. That way her music stays pure. Well, at least to me, in my own little world.
Everyone was okay with the Amy Winehouse record--which we listened to on the way to dinner--obviously, because she's a superstar waiting to happen. But on the way back from dinner, we popped in Karen Dalton's record and everyone began to make fun of how bad Karen Dalton's voice was.
The funny thing is that it really hurt my feelings when they began to make fun of her. This is never the kind of thing that bothers me, because I never give a shit about what other people think and, in fact, I prefer it whenever they don't like something I like, because whatever that thing is becomes another one of the things I can call my own, as far as I'm concerned within my own little world.
I guess it bothered me last night because I went out on a limb to share that music with them. I'm very possessive of the music I discover; I can't just trust the average person with it because they're sure to hook onto the most obvious aspect of the music (such as Karen's "ugly" voice) and not much else and bastardize it in a way. So I considered all that, then they made fun of it...
It also bothered me to see that while I was being so moved by the music, they were laughing. It was so beautiful. Karen's voice was cracking. I could hear so much emotion in her voice, I thought she was crying. I was beginning to cry myself. And they were laughing...
It doesn't bother me anymore, certainly not as much as it did last night. Thank goodness they thought Karen had a bad voice. That way her music stays pure. Well, at least to me, in my own little world.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Crispy Concupiscence
Today turned out to be a pretty good day, in spite of how it started. Basically, I did engineering problems for most of the day, taking needlessly long breaks to fondle the axe (hee hee I said fondle), pick up the dry cleaning, and run a little.
I had something to look forward to, though. This morning my sister asked me if I'd like to have dinner out with the family at Red Lobster. I was like, 'yeah!' then I remembered last week Iman mentioned that it was lobsterfest now so I was like, 'hells yeah!' It was nice to get out of the house. Silver Spring is getting a little crowded though, although it might be because everyone decided to come out today, the first bona fide nice day we've had in what feels like forever. So, fast forward to now, after dinner: I'm stuffed, more stuffed than I've been in a while, since that sushi dinner a few weekends back. I'm so stuffed right now I can't even say 'mmmm...sushi...' without lying.
Another great thing about tonight is I finally got around to buying Madeleine Peyroux's last album. I almost didn't because the line at Border's was so long, but since my sister was buying shoes I had plenty of time to wait in line. Ha, that's such a chauvinistic thing to say, but it's so true...
...So, the album--it's probably her most romantic-sounding album yet. On first listen it's not as good as Dreamland, but it's still very good. It's one of those albums best listened to at night, preferably with someone special. I've recently bought a lot of those kinds of albums, and not out of some bizarre need to feel wistful or wallow in self-pity. I think my taste is just--egad!--maturing. It feels like ages since I've bought a punk or new wave album (except for the Bow Wow Wow album I got at Joe's two Saturdays ago). Recently I'd been listening to the Marvelettes and Richard Hawley, and consequently I can almost hear my dad telling my mom, 'See? Your son's gay!'
Nah, my dad's cool. He wouldn't say that, but I suspect he's thought it before. It wouldn't bother me if he did, though--I mean, so what, right? But incidentally, Madeleine Peyroux looks a lot like a girl from my past--the only girl from my past, actually--the Polish princess. So see, Dad? I'm not gay. I just have high standards. And I put the pussy up on a pedestal.
I had something to look forward to, though. This morning my sister asked me if I'd like to have dinner out with the family at Red Lobster. I was like, 'yeah!' then I remembered last week Iman mentioned that it was lobsterfest now so I was like, 'hells yeah!' It was nice to get out of the house. Silver Spring is getting a little crowded though, although it might be because everyone decided to come out today, the first bona fide nice day we've had in what feels like forever. So, fast forward to now, after dinner: I'm stuffed, more stuffed than I've been in a while, since that sushi dinner a few weekends back. I'm so stuffed right now I can't even say 'mmmm...sushi...' without lying.
Another great thing about tonight is I finally got around to buying Madeleine Peyroux's last album. I almost didn't because the line at Border's was so long, but since my sister was buying shoes I had plenty of time to wait in line. Ha, that's such a chauvinistic thing to say, but it's so true...
...So, the album--it's probably her most romantic-sounding album yet. On first listen it's not as good as Dreamland, but it's still very good. It's one of those albums best listened to at night, preferably with someone special. I've recently bought a lot of those kinds of albums, and not out of some bizarre need to feel wistful or wallow in self-pity. I think my taste is just--egad!--maturing. It feels like ages since I've bought a punk or new wave album (except for the Bow Wow Wow album I got at Joe's two Saturdays ago). Recently I'd been listening to the Marvelettes and Richard Hawley, and consequently I can almost hear my dad telling my mom, 'See? Your son's gay!'
Nah, my dad's cool. He wouldn't say that, but I suspect he's thought it before. It wouldn't bother me if he did, though--I mean, so what, right? But incidentally, Madeleine Peyroux looks a lot like a girl from my past--the only girl from my past, actually--the Polish princess. So see, Dad? I'm not gay. I just have high standards. And I put the pussy up on a pedestal.
Monday, March 05, 2007
The Awww Post
One of the great things about working so close to home is being able to go home for lunch, to just take an hour of and really relax.
Anyways, I learned something this weekend. I learned that the mundane things of the world can be made special just by doing them with the right person. I'm lucky to have found a number of right persons along the way, and I've put up links to their stuff to the right over there, as well as some others who don't have links. That's what I learned this weekend. So, thanks.
All together now--awww...
Anyways, I learned something this weekend. I learned that the mundane things of the world can be made special just by doing them with the right person. I'm lucky to have found a number of right persons along the way, and I've put up links to their stuff to the right over there, as well as some others who don't have links. That's what I learned this weekend. So, thanks.
All together now--awww...
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Orange Juice Tabs
Dear Friends,
Thank you for taking an interest in my offer to tab out a few Orange Juice songs. However, I regret to say that I won't be posting any more, sorry.
You see, it takes a long time to tab a song out. Plus, since I have no way of posting a text file online, I have to copy and paste my tab onto blogger, which screws up the alignment of the tab, which then takes up more time to correct. I was still at university when I put the first tab up. Now I'm working and I'd rather spend my free time, which is now a lot less, doing other stuff.
I hope you've seen the tab for Falling and Laughing. This is actually a good place to start playing OJ songs, because lot of their other songs use similar chord shapes moved up and down the neck of the guitar (I also believe it's very accurate, maybe even 100% correct). Just like other punk songs, OJ songs are simple to play. Take Falling and Laughing, it's really just three chords: G, D, and A is thrown in at the end. That x x x 12 12 12 verse chord? that's a G with the high E added to it. Similarly, the x x x 7 7 7 and x x x 6 5 5 chords are just D and G barre chords but not playing the three lower strings.
So here are some more chords, and from here it's pretty easy to figure out the rest:
Intuition Told Me, pt. 2 - D E G (that's pretty much the whole thing)
Consolation Prize - E G A (that's also how you'd play the Ramones' I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend)(by the way, www.killermontstreet.com has an accurate tab of this song there, too, plus some great downloads, like the oringinal Just Like Gold single. I particularly recommend downloading Hot Club of Christ, a crazy medley of Christmas songs)
When playing these things, keep in mind Simon Reynold's description of OJ in his book Rip It Up and Start Again: "A scintillating shambles of Byrds and Velvets"--it's right on the money, and a great idea to keep in mind when playing the chords.
If you need help, leave a comment and I'll reply whether I can help or not. But I won't be tabbing out any more songs because it just takes so darn long. Sorry, thanks.
Thank you for taking an interest in my offer to tab out a few Orange Juice songs. However, I regret to say that I won't be posting any more, sorry.
You see, it takes a long time to tab a song out. Plus, since I have no way of posting a text file online, I have to copy and paste my tab onto blogger, which screws up the alignment of the tab, which then takes up more time to correct. I was still at university when I put the first tab up. Now I'm working and I'd rather spend my free time, which is now a lot less, doing other stuff.
I hope you've seen the tab for Falling and Laughing. This is actually a good place to start playing OJ songs, because lot of their other songs use similar chord shapes moved up and down the neck of the guitar (I also believe it's very accurate, maybe even 100% correct). Just like other punk songs, OJ songs are simple to play. Take Falling and Laughing, it's really just three chords: G, D, and A is thrown in at the end. That x x x 12 12 12 verse chord? that's a G with the high E added to it. Similarly, the x x x 7 7 7 and x x x 6 5 5 chords are just D and G barre chords but not playing the three lower strings.
So here are some more chords, and from here it's pretty easy to figure out the rest:
Intuition Told Me, pt. 2 - D E G (that's pretty much the whole thing)
Consolation Prize - E G A (that's also how you'd play the Ramones' I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend)(by the way, www.killermontstreet.com has an accurate tab of this song there, too, plus some great downloads, like the oringinal Just Like Gold single. I particularly recommend downloading Hot Club of Christ, a crazy medley of Christmas songs)
When playing these things, keep in mind Simon Reynold's description of OJ in his book Rip It Up and Start Again: "A scintillating shambles of Byrds and Velvets"--it's right on the money, and a great idea to keep in mind when playing the chords.
If you need help, leave a comment and I'll reply whether I can help or not. But I won't be tabbing out any more songs because it just takes so darn long. Sorry, thanks.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
About a Spring Hill Fair
I watched About a Boy today and it really moved me. I liked it the first time I saw it, but today was different, today it really got to me, especially the part where Hugh Grant realizes that his life is meaningless. Is my life meaningless too? I am a lot like Hugh Grant's character is in the first half of the movie: we're both alright with living most of my life alone. I see now it's a pretty sad and selfish way to live my life. Starting today, I'm going to do something about it. I don't know what I'll do just yet, but I'm going to do it.
And now for something completely different, I thought I'd bore you all and tell you that I've lost my copy of the Go-Between's Spring Hill Fair. It's the remastered version with the second disc of bonus tracks, and it's been missing for maybe a couple of months already. I think I took it with me to the car on a special (for me at least) day, maybe after accepting my job, maybe after my last exam, to celebrate with some nice car music afterward, and I might have dropped it in a parking lot somewhere.
I miss that cd so much. One night two weeks ago I dreamt I found it under the TV table and I was so happy that I told myself in my dream to check under there when I woke up. It wasn't there. It might seem funny that I'm so bummed over losing this album; after all, I have all the tracks in my mp3 player. But the physical thing itself means so much to me: the cd's themselves, the jewel case with the tray that flips over, the thick booklet with great liner notes with the great cover with the colorful lettering.
I can always buy another copy, but that's beside the point. I love that particular copy of that particular album so much because it was what really introduced me to the wonderful world of the Go-Betweens (I bought their Lost Album first, which is not the best place to start). I love that album because there's no need to say that it's a great bunch of songs because, hey, it's the Go-Betweens. I love that album because Andrew Mueller's liner notes really capture the love one feels for the band once one is sucked in to their world. I love that album because we came together during what I felt (at the time) was a rough patch (girl trouble, naturally). This last bit is very important because the best time to experience the Go-Betweens is when one is in, falling out of, or being kicked in the head by love, which--in my case--is all the time, whether I'm aware of it or not.
I like to imagine that a beautiful girl found my copy, listened to it, and fell in love with it and the mystery boy who lost it, kind of like an episode of Boy Meets World. If that didn't happen, hopefully someone picked it up and began a new life with the Go-Betweens a big part of it. Chances are though that whoever found it couldn't make heads or tails of it and threw it away or sold it. And it's entirely his loss.
And now for something completely different, I thought I'd bore you all and tell you that I've lost my copy of the Go-Between's Spring Hill Fair. It's the remastered version with the second disc of bonus tracks, and it's been missing for maybe a couple of months already. I think I took it with me to the car on a special (for me at least) day, maybe after accepting my job, maybe after my last exam, to celebrate with some nice car music afterward, and I might have dropped it in a parking lot somewhere.
I miss that cd so much. One night two weeks ago I dreamt I found it under the TV table and I was so happy that I told myself in my dream to check under there when I woke up. It wasn't there. It might seem funny that I'm so bummed over losing this album; after all, I have all the tracks in my mp3 player. But the physical thing itself means so much to me: the cd's themselves, the jewel case with the tray that flips over, the thick booklet with great liner notes with the great cover with the colorful lettering.
I can always buy another copy, but that's beside the point. I love that particular copy of that particular album so much because it was what really introduced me to the wonderful world of the Go-Betweens (I bought their Lost Album first, which is not the best place to start). I love that album because there's no need to say that it's a great bunch of songs because, hey, it's the Go-Betweens. I love that album because Andrew Mueller's liner notes really capture the love one feels for the band once one is sucked in to their world. I love that album because we came together during what I felt (at the time) was a rough patch (girl trouble, naturally). This last bit is very important because the best time to experience the Go-Betweens is when one is in, falling out of, or being kicked in the head by love, which--in my case--is all the time, whether I'm aware of it or not.
I like to imagine that a beautiful girl found my copy, listened to it, and fell in love with it and the mystery boy who lost it, kind of like an episode of Boy Meets World. If that didn't happen, hopefully someone picked it up and began a new life with the Go-Betweens a big part of it. Chances are though that whoever found it couldn't make heads or tails of it and threw it away or sold it. And it's entirely his loss.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Oh, the Suspense!
It's the eve of my first day at work, and I'm nervous. Just thought I'd put that out there. Wish me luck, let's cross our fingers that I don't get fired.
The other night I made gnocchi from scratch. Gnocchi, which is pronounced "nyaw-key" and not "guh-naw-chee" like I thought, is an Italian kind of, uh, thing made of boiled, rolled-up dough. I made the dough out of sweet potatoes and flour by hand. I got the recipe from the paper earlier this week. When I first tried the gnocchi, I hadn't let the sauce cook for long enough so the arugula in it made everything really bitter and I refused to eat anymore that night. But I let the sauce cook a little more, the arugula wilted some more and eventually it all tasted very good, much to my surprise. At first I thought we'd end up throwing the leftovers out, but I finished them for lunch today.
So there, I cooked. Feel free to make fun. Wish me luck again.
The other night I made gnocchi from scratch. Gnocchi, which is pronounced "nyaw-key" and not "guh-naw-chee" like I thought, is an Italian kind of, uh, thing made of boiled, rolled-up dough. I made the dough out of sweet potatoes and flour by hand. I got the recipe from the paper earlier this week. When I first tried the gnocchi, I hadn't let the sauce cook for long enough so the arugula in it made everything really bitter and I refused to eat anymore that night. But I let the sauce cook a little more, the arugula wilted some more and eventually it all tasted very good, much to my surprise. At first I thought we'd end up throwing the leftovers out, but I finished them for lunch today.
So there, I cooked. Feel free to make fun. Wish me luck again.
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