So one thing I didn't talk about from my trip was my brother getting sick. I mean, who would care about that right? But now I'm feeling like ass so I guess it did matter after all. Anyway, all I did today was job hunt, feel sick and watch a bunch of Lost episodes via abc.com.
I'll try to get something together tomorrow. Alisia's currently working on the pictures...
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Day 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75 and 76: The uber-post about PHX, the road trip, and whatever else
Opening note: Kids, this is a long ass post so smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em, and get ready… A few things upfront: my brother’s eight and a half years older than me, and he’s actually my brother-from-another-mother, though we call the same woman Mom. So this explains why he’s married and got a kid and goes to sleep early. You can read more about him here.
Why the week away? his goddamned Internet was bugged out and not cooperating so I just said to hell with it. But I'm back to tell you about my life everyday from now on.
• Day 67, Friday (March 21):
Rev. Slanky played at the Badlander (ONE YEAR! w00t!) and Alisia, Bill, John and myself couldn’t pass it up. We ran into more people we knew right before the show and all of us staked out some real estate on the dancefloor during the first set, a rollicking good time but few dancing. The second set, however, erupted with a floor so packed no one could really move at all, but that didn’t stop anyone. While normally getting batted around with a PBR in hand would be annoying, there was something in the energy that made it worthwhile. So overall a good night, that is aside from a few bits of OPD (Other People’s Drama). Note: Bill needs to embrace AmVets as one of Missoula’s places of interest, and just…calm down a bit.
• Day 68, Saturday (March 22):
Alisia and I need to pack for a trip to Phoenix, but we instead spend a fair amount of time just BSing about unimportant crap. We’re not the most “on the ball” couple of all time apparently, nor do we use time well (A big kindergarten unsatisfactory lies in our immediate future). I got hassled at Walgreen’s because I needed to refill a prescription for an inhaler – if I’ve never mentioned it before, I’m a moderate asthmatic – that my insurance wouldn’t cover because it was early in the month. I love that about insurance companies: You pay them not to do jack shit for you; kind of like Rep. Rehberg. The upside for the day was getting Alisia to watch Swingers, a fine 90s film that I’ll always have a special place for since Jon Favreau character’s personality seems oddly familiar to me…
• Day 69, Sunday (March 23):
Have you ever said something so blatantly stupid you thought someone would notice it and save you, but then no one did? Here’s mine: “We can totally drive to Phoenix in one day. It’s only a 17 hour trip.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
First off: Google Maps can kiss my ass. What a shitty direction-giving program. It led us down a road that essentially added on hour to our trip time, which ended up as 20 ½ hours, 17 of which I drove…yes, because I’m a moronic male. Sorry. I’m a cliché.
From Missoula to SLC were pretty much without incident as we rocked out to some badass 90s hits (There was some Gin Blossoms, I admit this). Then I ditched the freeway looking for the Red Robin in Murray, Utah and got us lost. Why Red Robin, a kitschy corporate eatery? We hadn’t eaten all day and a milkshake sounded good…but we didn’t find it and thus the Applebee’s post. Since I was pissed about losing the freeway and missing out on Red Robin Alisia took over driving for a while, which began with her stopping on a set of railroad tracks and saying, “I hope a train doesn’t come.” On cue the train arrived and we had to run a red light…bad mojo.
With her at the wheel I was free to sleep, and regain my composure… which means I sat there, passenger side, scared out of my mind convinced that she’d kill us both. Apparently, like I said before, I was being a cliché guy with a female driver. It made me feel guilty, but luckily Alisia found it charming (this is a blatant lie. It annoyed her to no end but she still put up with me and even gave somewhat constant reassurance by saying, “We’re fine…quit worrying…stop it…seriously, stop it…).
Coming into Arizona, I guess somewhere around Kanab, Utah at about 10:30 p.m., I took over the driving (it may have been before this actually, I can’t remember and Alisia’s discussing Lost with my brother so I’m not going to fact-check this.) A woman at a gas station told us to watch for elk at about 10-miles out of town because, “That area’s teemin’ with em from what ever’one sayin’.” But there weren’t any elk. Not one. Not even a deer – just winding, winding, and winding damn roads that seemed more and more dangerous with every minute. I chugged Red Bulls.
Alisia kept me awake with a conversation about how we first started dating. Neither of us played the whole odd dating game – trying to make moves, etc. – we just became friends…and then more. This conversation, a one-sentence summary, took us nearly through the Navajo Rez north of Flagstaff, but not entirely, which meant we had to move on to other topics like, sex, drugs and rock’n’roll. Okay, we talked about episodes of Friends that we liked…we’re embarrassing.
But anyway…
Speaking of Flagstaff, that’s where I scared Alisia to death. She tried sleeping, or rather fell into a stupor, around this time and I was near dead. This was about 2 a.m. and I couldn’t tell a tree from a person, or a red light from a green one. I told Alisia I wanted to quit and that I needed sleep, but she wanted to trek on saying, “I’m-ah, good. I can drive. I can drive. I can drive. Totally. I’m-ah fine.” So I continued driving since she was incoherent, which meant I needed to change interstates…total disaster. I ran two red lights and drove all over the road. Now, while this seems bad – and it was – I did get woke up… by a huge damn elk. Yeah, Kanab Lady was right about elk, but about 300 miles off.
I have lived in Montana for 23 years, and I’ve never seen as many elk as I did right outside of Flagstaff. Jesus Christ. It was an endless line of elk that truckers and other idiots drove by at speeds of 75 mph. It was crazy. We drove slower, and then we eventually got there…at 4 a.m…with a big ass story of the 20 hours we spent with each other between Missoula, Montana and Phoenix, Arizona and how at the end of it we still liked each other. My brother, Bob, seemed amazed that we were alive.
Upside of bringing Alisia with me: a real mattress. Usually when I stay in PHX my brother provides an air mattress that sucks, but because I brought a female he actually got a mattress and box spring. Holla.
One could assume we hit this mattress and slept, but instead the two of us hit the bed and laughed for about half an hour about the whole trip. It was a crazy day, but it felt great. We’d done something together that was completely insane, and I think it made us a little closer for having done it.
Also, It felt awesome to sleep…
• Day 70, Monday (March 24):
My nephew Ethan is one loud little turd. Totally loud. He squeals. He screams. He bangs toys. He’s two and he wants you to know it. Waking up to his calls wasn’t as much a pleasure as a curse. Ugh. I wanted sleep time, but Ethan was awake and as I would continue to learn throughout the week: this means get up and play.
Missy, my sister-in-law, went to get a pedicure with her sister-in-law Annette so Bob, Alisia and I took Ethan as well as his cousins Maddy and Austin to the park and then to feed the neighborhood donkeys. I’m not lying here. Glendale, at least the area where my brother lives, doesn’t have a home owners association so people own chickens (without controversy), horses, and donkeys. The donkeys are kind of the neighborhood pet and people tend to feed them all the time. We brought them apples. Alisia got some great pictures of this, but since she hasn’t had time to go through them I can’t post any. Expect them in the future, but here's one of Maddy and Ethan playing in my brother's Saturn:
Ethan and Maddy...
In the afternoon all of us went to a mall in Scottsdale so the parents could return an outfit that didn’t fit Ethan. I hate Scottsdale, AZ. It’s a shit-town. A few years back, okay about a decade, my brother and I got harassed at this same mall because I had blonde hair and looked punkish, and my brother had a red Mohawk. Some guy kicked us out of is store saying, “This doesn’t seem like your kind of place. I’d like you to move along.”
This time we avoided such incidents. A little note on Scottsdale: no smoothies. We spent about a half hour in the mall looking for the obligatory smoothie concession only to find that the place had none. It has about a bazillion polo shirts, but no smoothies. What a shithole. Yuppies suck.
That night we barbecued some burgers while my brother took it upon himself to goad me into leaping into a cold ass pool. This thing is not a heated high-class deal. It’s a cement hole with water requiring sunshine. In the winter it doesn’t freeze, but it doesn’t get warm. Finally he said the magic words: “I’ll jump in if you do.” Oh, it was on. I jumped, I froze, and then – shocked that I did it – Missy and Alisia mocked my brother until he jumped as well. Awesome.
• Day 71, Tuesday (March 25):
We went to the park again, but this time to a different one, and with Bob and Missy’s friends Chip and Suzy, and their daughter whose name I am totally blanking on… well, never mind that whole time. It was fun, but we don’t need to talk about it much other than to say that watching two grown men (Chip and my brother) try to fly a kite on a day with barely a breeze has to be one of the best ways to spend a Tuesday.
This night actually marked my one-month anniversary with Alisia, but I of course didn’t realize this until Thursday. Regardless I took her to a PHX restaurant called Ah-So, or as I call it, The Best Place Ever. Ah-So is for adults what Chuck-E-Cheese is for kids. It’s a Japanese joint where the cooks do all the dishes at the table, which is great to watch not only for handy tips, but also because it’s a performance piece. If you’re in PHX and you don’t hit this place up, you should just drive out to the desert and rot. You’ve missed something amazing.
Once we got home Alisia and I took a stroll around the neighborhood. Apparently Phoenix residents love their carbon because I counted at least 20 Ford 4x4s, mostly extended or double cabs. I guess you need such a ride for all those steep hills and snowstorms Phoenix is famous for. Morons. (I know, I know, a few could be for off-roading, but the vast majority were not tricked out for that so I’m assuming the worst here.)
After that…sleep. Precious sleep.
• Day 72, Wednesday (March 26):
My friend Sarah has family in Phoenix so we met up with her and her Father at a restaurant called The Yardhouse. Big feature: Tons of beer. Tons. Seriously. I was in heaven. Plus Sarah and her Dad are really nice people, and getting a night out with someone other than family while down in Phoenix was a real treat.
Beer tip: Smithwick’s is the bomb. Sean Kelley’s got it on tap so make sure to try it (I scoped it out on the whiteboard there today).
It felt relaxing to have a beer after a long day in the sun that included Alisia and I heading up to this place called Lookout Mountain. From the looks of it Phoenix is a polluted mess. Very smoggy. Again, Alisia got pictures, but I don’t have them yet.
• Day 73, Thursday (March 27):
We’re so lazy…did nothing for a few hours and then we went to the play Closer (the basis for the movie Closer) with Bob and Missy – a new activity for them. Sort of cracks me up that we brought a Missoula-style night out to PHX, especially because the place, ChryoArts Venue, is the small and unknown indie art house…just a few days in the city and I find an art scene. Weird.
Unamazingly Bob and Missy completely dug the play and I think they’ll go to more since plays rock…Others have as well...
*Special note: With 515 closed what will become of the Crystal?
The only other note worthy part of Thursday was Alisia forgetting her ring in our room and Ethan bringing it to her. He’s a bright little scamp and I think the family should keep him around. Here’s a picture of Alisia and Ethan taking pictures together:
Personally I think they're both cute.
• Day 74, Friday (March 28):
We leave Phoenix at about 10:30 a.m. en route to SLC and a stay at what turns out to be the seediest Motel 6 I’ve ever seen. What a dive. We got there at about 10 p.m. and were rundown. Another day on the damn road. Plus I was already missing my nephew squeals and attempts to talk. He has a normal nearly 2-year-old vocabulary, but his favorite phrases are “Mama!” and “Yo yo yo!” For my quarter both are funny.
The trip to the Motel Bad went off fine with Alisia and I discovering one big thing: Everyone driving a PT Cruiser is an asshole. Okay, that’s too far. I’ll make it this: Not everyone who drives a PT Cruiser is an asshole, but only assholes drive PT Cruisers. Every few miles we had to deal with someone being a complete bastard in one of these ug-mobiles. Bleh. To hell with them.
I also learned that the freeway scares the shit out of me. I’m used to two lanes and cordial people, not six lanes chock full of bastards. One would think a Mormon state would have polite drivers…but no. Bastards.
After checking in with the staff at Motel Bad (three people with less teeth than a single person, and more ass than a Hostess Snack Cake Fan Club) we entered into our stained room and I felt guilty. What a dive. Just depressing. I couldn’t bring myself to take any pictures of it.
Following a confusing situation involving ordering a pizza I decided to go look for a gas station to buy beer at. Want to know how I knew this part of town was lowclass? Did you know Keystone had an “ICE” version? Neither did I, but apparently it comes in 40s.
On my way back to the room I encountered a fight with a crackhead and a drunk. Good times. The crackhead of course won, but what really matters is that the drunk looked like this guy:
Seriously, the dude looked like this guy from the Never Ending Story...scary!
Gross but true. I barely slept after realizing a divot in our room’s wall looked like spackle covering a bullet hole.
• Day 75, Saturday (March 29):
We eat at a Red Robin! Burgers and shakes. Total fatty ass lunch, but so deserved for having missed out the previous week. I was psyched.
When we started off toward home though, something happened. Alisia dropped a bomb on me asking about my past – particularly about my relationships that…well, weren’t exactly completely fair. By that I mean I dated a passive-aggressive manipulator. Thrice actually. The normal guy thing is to say, “Yeah, she was a bitch,” which I know is pretty un-PC, and also sort of a mischaracterization. It wasn’t about “bitchiness,” but about the fact that when I dated these girls I sort of disliked myself. And that low self-esteem got me to stop dressing in my Fat Wreck hoody, become a vegetarian, and a whole plethora of other crap. So then I did something that I’m sure means I can no longer belong to the John Wayne Fan Club (I don’t, but still…). I told her, “Okay, I was in some abusive relationships.”
Someone call Tracey Gold, I’m going to change the gender and make this into a Lifetime movie…Consult the movie Swingers for more info on what happens to guys and gals when things go south.
Anyway, saying this aloud kind of queered the trip from SLC to Missoula and left me pretty silent. I do this from time to time. I just go blank. I did this once at a party at Alex’s house where I just sat in the basement reading Albert Camus books. But in a Dodge Neon with only one other person, it kind of seems like I’m mad, or something. It makes everything awkward.
Really, all I kept thinking about was how much dating can suck, and how you can really change yourself a lot trying to be something another person likes, but it doesn’t always work out that way…anyway, it was a heavy trip home and it wasn’t until Deer Lodge that we set our ship right again and started having fun. Alisia thinks I should write a book about a guy dealing with trauma after an abusive relationship since the issue never really gets play.
Moving on…
After getting home, showering, and diving into a growler of stout from K-House Alisia and I joined Sean, Tonya, and John for what we figured would be a good time at Westside Lanes singing karaoke (Sean and I were down for Paradise by the Dashboard Light), but then… John saw a gun; some dude packing heat. Given the local's recent rep for, um, killings, we jetted out of there and headed home without telling a soul…the night was pretty much ruined.
• Day 76, Sunday (March 30):
All day I’ve been regretting not saying anything about seeing the gun at Westside, but I haven’t heard anything bad so…I guess Karma worked out for me this time. Outside of that I’ve done nothing but work on this damn post… my hands are tired and my mind is completely broken now. I mean, Jesus, what a length. If you’re reading this I commend you. I’ll see you kids later. Hope everything went well while I was gone.
Why the week away? his goddamned Internet was bugged out and not cooperating so I just said to hell with it. But I'm back to tell you about my life everyday from now on.
• Day 67, Friday (March 21):
Rev. Slanky played at the Badlander (ONE YEAR! w00t!) and Alisia, Bill, John and myself couldn’t pass it up. We ran into more people we knew right before the show and all of us staked out some real estate on the dancefloor during the first set, a rollicking good time but few dancing. The second set, however, erupted with a floor so packed no one could really move at all, but that didn’t stop anyone. While normally getting batted around with a PBR in hand would be annoying, there was something in the energy that made it worthwhile. So overall a good night, that is aside from a few bits of OPD (Other People’s Drama). Note: Bill needs to embrace AmVets as one of Missoula’s places of interest, and just…calm down a bit.
• Day 68, Saturday (March 22):
Alisia and I need to pack for a trip to Phoenix, but we instead spend a fair amount of time just BSing about unimportant crap. We’re not the most “on the ball” couple of all time apparently, nor do we use time well (A big kindergarten unsatisfactory lies in our immediate future). I got hassled at Walgreen’s because I needed to refill a prescription for an inhaler – if I’ve never mentioned it before, I’m a moderate asthmatic – that my insurance wouldn’t cover because it was early in the month. I love that about insurance companies: You pay them not to do jack shit for you; kind of like Rep. Rehberg. The upside for the day was getting Alisia to watch Swingers, a fine 90s film that I’ll always have a special place for since Jon Favreau character’s personality seems oddly familiar to me…
• Day 69, Sunday (March 23):
Have you ever said something so blatantly stupid you thought someone would notice it and save you, but then no one did? Here’s mine: “We can totally drive to Phoenix in one day. It’s only a 17 hour trip.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
First off: Google Maps can kiss my ass. What a shitty direction-giving program. It led us down a road that essentially added on hour to our trip time, which ended up as 20 ½ hours, 17 of which I drove…yes, because I’m a moronic male. Sorry. I’m a cliché.
From Missoula to SLC were pretty much without incident as we rocked out to some badass 90s hits (There was some Gin Blossoms, I admit this). Then I ditched the freeway looking for the Red Robin in Murray, Utah and got us lost. Why Red Robin, a kitschy corporate eatery? We hadn’t eaten all day and a milkshake sounded good…but we didn’t find it and thus the Applebee’s post. Since I was pissed about losing the freeway and missing out on Red Robin Alisia took over driving for a while, which began with her stopping on a set of railroad tracks and saying, “I hope a train doesn’t come.” On cue the train arrived and we had to run a red light…bad mojo.
With her at the wheel I was free to sleep, and regain my composure… which means I sat there, passenger side, scared out of my mind convinced that she’d kill us both. Apparently, like I said before, I was being a cliché guy with a female driver. It made me feel guilty, but luckily Alisia found it charming (this is a blatant lie. It annoyed her to no end but she still put up with me and even gave somewhat constant reassurance by saying, “We’re fine…quit worrying…stop it…seriously, stop it…).
Coming into Arizona, I guess somewhere around Kanab, Utah at about 10:30 p.m., I took over the driving (it may have been before this actually, I can’t remember and Alisia’s discussing Lost with my brother so I’m not going to fact-check this.) A woman at a gas station told us to watch for elk at about 10-miles out of town because, “That area’s teemin’ with em from what ever’one sayin’.” But there weren’t any elk. Not one. Not even a deer – just winding, winding, and winding damn roads that seemed more and more dangerous with every minute. I chugged Red Bulls.
Alisia kept me awake with a conversation about how we first started dating. Neither of us played the whole odd dating game – trying to make moves, etc. – we just became friends…and then more. This conversation, a one-sentence summary, took us nearly through the Navajo Rez north of Flagstaff, but not entirely, which meant we had to move on to other topics like, sex, drugs and rock’n’roll. Okay, we talked about episodes of Friends that we liked…we’re embarrassing.
But anyway…
Speaking of Flagstaff, that’s where I scared Alisia to death. She tried sleeping, or rather fell into a stupor, around this time and I was near dead. This was about 2 a.m. and I couldn’t tell a tree from a person, or a red light from a green one. I told Alisia I wanted to quit and that I needed sleep, but she wanted to trek on saying, “I’m-ah, good. I can drive. I can drive. I can drive. Totally. I’m-ah fine.” So I continued driving since she was incoherent, which meant I needed to change interstates…total disaster. I ran two red lights and drove all over the road. Now, while this seems bad – and it was – I did get woke up… by a huge damn elk. Yeah, Kanab Lady was right about elk, but about 300 miles off.
I have lived in Montana for 23 years, and I’ve never seen as many elk as I did right outside of Flagstaff. Jesus Christ. It was an endless line of elk that truckers and other idiots drove by at speeds of 75 mph. It was crazy. We drove slower, and then we eventually got there…at 4 a.m…with a big ass story of the 20 hours we spent with each other between Missoula, Montana and Phoenix, Arizona and how at the end of it we still liked each other. My brother, Bob, seemed amazed that we were alive.
Upside of bringing Alisia with me: a real mattress. Usually when I stay in PHX my brother provides an air mattress that sucks, but because I brought a female he actually got a mattress and box spring. Holla.
One could assume we hit this mattress and slept, but instead the two of us hit the bed and laughed for about half an hour about the whole trip. It was a crazy day, but it felt great. We’d done something together that was completely insane, and I think it made us a little closer for having done it.
Also, It felt awesome to sleep…
• Day 70, Monday (March 24):
My nephew Ethan is one loud little turd. Totally loud. He squeals. He screams. He bangs toys. He’s two and he wants you to know it. Waking up to his calls wasn’t as much a pleasure as a curse. Ugh. I wanted sleep time, but Ethan was awake and as I would continue to learn throughout the week: this means get up and play.
Missy, my sister-in-law, went to get a pedicure with her sister-in-law Annette so Bob, Alisia and I took Ethan as well as his cousins Maddy and Austin to the park and then to feed the neighborhood donkeys. I’m not lying here. Glendale, at least the area where my brother lives, doesn’t have a home owners association so people own chickens (without controversy), horses, and donkeys. The donkeys are kind of the neighborhood pet and people tend to feed them all the time. We brought them apples. Alisia got some great pictures of this, but since she hasn’t had time to go through them I can’t post any. Expect them in the future, but here's one of Maddy and Ethan playing in my brother's Saturn:
Ethan and Maddy...This time we avoided such incidents. A little note on Scottsdale: no smoothies. We spent about a half hour in the mall looking for the obligatory smoothie concession only to find that the place had none. It has about a bazillion polo shirts, but no smoothies. What a shithole. Yuppies suck.
That night we barbecued some burgers while my brother took it upon himself to goad me into leaping into a cold ass pool. This thing is not a heated high-class deal. It’s a cement hole with water requiring sunshine. In the winter it doesn’t freeze, but it doesn’t get warm. Finally he said the magic words: “I’ll jump in if you do.” Oh, it was on. I jumped, I froze, and then – shocked that I did it – Missy and Alisia mocked my brother until he jumped as well. Awesome.
• Day 71, Tuesday (March 25):
We went to the park again, but this time to a different one, and with Bob and Missy’s friends Chip and Suzy, and their daughter whose name I am totally blanking on… well, never mind that whole time. It was fun, but we don’t need to talk about it much other than to say that watching two grown men (Chip and my brother) try to fly a kite on a day with barely a breeze has to be one of the best ways to spend a Tuesday.
This night actually marked my one-month anniversary with Alisia, but I of course didn’t realize this until Thursday. Regardless I took her to a PHX restaurant called Ah-So, or as I call it, The Best Place Ever. Ah-So is for adults what Chuck-E-Cheese is for kids. It’s a Japanese joint where the cooks do all the dishes at the table, which is great to watch not only for handy tips, but also because it’s a performance piece. If you’re in PHX and you don’t hit this place up, you should just drive out to the desert and rot. You’ve missed something amazing.
Once we got home Alisia and I took a stroll around the neighborhood. Apparently Phoenix residents love their carbon because I counted at least 20 Ford 4x4s, mostly extended or double cabs. I guess you need such a ride for all those steep hills and snowstorms Phoenix is famous for. Morons. (I know, I know, a few could be for off-roading, but the vast majority were not tricked out for that so I’m assuming the worst here.)
After that…sleep. Precious sleep.
• Day 72, Wednesday (March 26):
My friend Sarah has family in Phoenix so we met up with her and her Father at a restaurant called The Yardhouse. Big feature: Tons of beer. Tons. Seriously. I was in heaven. Plus Sarah and her Dad are really nice people, and getting a night out with someone other than family while down in Phoenix was a real treat.
Beer tip: Smithwick’s is the bomb. Sean Kelley’s got it on tap so make sure to try it (I scoped it out on the whiteboard there today).
It felt relaxing to have a beer after a long day in the sun that included Alisia and I heading up to this place called Lookout Mountain. From the looks of it Phoenix is a polluted mess. Very smoggy. Again, Alisia got pictures, but I don’t have them yet.
• Day 73, Thursday (March 27):
We’re so lazy…did nothing for a few hours and then we went to the play Closer (the basis for the movie Closer) with Bob and Missy – a new activity for them. Sort of cracks me up that we brought a Missoula-style night out to PHX, especially because the place, ChryoArts Venue, is the small and unknown indie art house…just a few days in the city and I find an art scene. Weird.
Unamazingly Bob and Missy completely dug the play and I think they’ll go to more since plays rock…Others have as well...
*Special note: With 515 closed what will become of the Crystal?
The only other note worthy part of Thursday was Alisia forgetting her ring in our room and Ethan bringing it to her. He’s a bright little scamp and I think the family should keep him around. Here’s a picture of Alisia and Ethan taking pictures together:
Personally I think they're both cute.• Day 74, Friday (March 28):
We leave Phoenix at about 10:30 a.m. en route to SLC and a stay at what turns out to be the seediest Motel 6 I’ve ever seen. What a dive. We got there at about 10 p.m. and were rundown. Another day on the damn road. Plus I was already missing my nephew squeals and attempts to talk. He has a normal nearly 2-year-old vocabulary, but his favorite phrases are “Mama!” and “Yo yo yo!” For my quarter both are funny.
The trip to the Motel Bad went off fine with Alisia and I discovering one big thing: Everyone driving a PT Cruiser is an asshole. Okay, that’s too far. I’ll make it this: Not everyone who drives a PT Cruiser is an asshole, but only assholes drive PT Cruisers. Every few miles we had to deal with someone being a complete bastard in one of these ug-mobiles. Bleh. To hell with them.
I also learned that the freeway scares the shit out of me. I’m used to two lanes and cordial people, not six lanes chock full of bastards. One would think a Mormon state would have polite drivers…but no. Bastards.
After checking in with the staff at Motel Bad (three people with less teeth than a single person, and more ass than a Hostess Snack Cake Fan Club) we entered into our stained room and I felt guilty. What a dive. Just depressing. I couldn’t bring myself to take any pictures of it.
Following a confusing situation involving ordering a pizza I decided to go look for a gas station to buy beer at. Want to know how I knew this part of town was lowclass? Did you know Keystone had an “ICE” version? Neither did I, but apparently it comes in 40s.
On my way back to the room I encountered a fight with a crackhead and a drunk. Good times. The crackhead of course won, but what really matters is that the drunk looked like this guy:
Seriously, the dude looked like this guy from the Never Ending Story...scary!Gross but true. I barely slept after realizing a divot in our room’s wall looked like spackle covering a bullet hole.
• Day 75, Saturday (March 29):
We eat at a Red Robin! Burgers and shakes. Total fatty ass lunch, but so deserved for having missed out the previous week. I was psyched.
When we started off toward home though, something happened. Alisia dropped a bomb on me asking about my past – particularly about my relationships that…well, weren’t exactly completely fair. By that I mean I dated a passive-aggressive manipulator. Thrice actually. The normal guy thing is to say, “Yeah, she was a bitch,” which I know is pretty un-PC, and also sort of a mischaracterization. It wasn’t about “bitchiness,” but about the fact that when I dated these girls I sort of disliked myself. And that low self-esteem got me to stop dressing in my Fat Wreck hoody, become a vegetarian, and a whole plethora of other crap. So then I did something that I’m sure means I can no longer belong to the John Wayne Fan Club (I don’t, but still…). I told her, “Okay, I was in some abusive relationships.”
Someone call Tracey Gold, I’m going to change the gender and make this into a Lifetime movie…Consult the movie Swingers for more info on what happens to guys and gals when things go south.
Anyway, saying this aloud kind of queered the trip from SLC to Missoula and left me pretty silent. I do this from time to time. I just go blank. I did this once at a party at Alex’s house where I just sat in the basement reading Albert Camus books. But in a Dodge Neon with only one other person, it kind of seems like I’m mad, or something. It makes everything awkward.
Really, all I kept thinking about was how much dating can suck, and how you can really change yourself a lot trying to be something another person likes, but it doesn’t always work out that way…anyway, it was a heavy trip home and it wasn’t until Deer Lodge that we set our ship right again and started having fun. Alisia thinks I should write a book about a guy dealing with trauma after an abusive relationship since the issue never really gets play.
Moving on…
After getting home, showering, and diving into a growler of stout from K-House Alisia and I joined Sean, Tonya, and John for what we figured would be a good time at Westside Lanes singing karaoke (Sean and I were down for Paradise by the Dashboard Light), but then… John saw a gun; some dude packing heat. Given the local's recent rep for, um, killings, we jetted out of there and headed home without telling a soul…the night was pretty much ruined.
• Day 76, Sunday (March 30):
All day I’ve been regretting not saying anything about seeing the gun at Westside, but I haven’t heard anything bad so…I guess Karma worked out for me this time. Outside of that I’ve done nothing but work on this damn post… my hands are tired and my mind is completely broken now. I mean, Jesus, what a length. If you’re reading this I commend you. I’ll see you kids later. Hope everything went well while I was gone.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Day 67, 68, and 69 (Easter)
I'll make this quick: Alisia and I are on the road to Phoenix, Arizona. Right now we're in an Applebee's in Murray, Utah. We've been on the road for 9 1/2 hours and we're just now stopping to grub. Kind of tired, but we're debating muscling through the night...
I'll update later about the weekend activities...
I'll update later about the weekend activities...
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Day 66: Didn't accomplish a lot...
The only real thing I did today was buy a t-shirt from Mr. Obama that I think says Butte, Montana:
That just jumps out and tells you, "Hey, I'm Irish and going for Barack." It's awesome. Plus, apparently it's the only shirt not sold out....so I guess I'm lucky.
Alisia had a concert tonight that featured Cody Hollow of Reverend Slanky going to town on a marimba solo that left the audience floored. Swriously, the guy's intense. He used three mallets in both hands to rock out – and the entire time he had NO sheet music. Completely badass. The entire audience could not stop talking about it, and the orchestra felt equally amused by it. So, future reference, the guy's really good. (Note: tomorrow night–Friday, March 21–the Badlander charges no cover to see the Slanky in case anyone out there feels like $2 PBR and dancing.)
And that was it...
That just jumps out and tells you, "Hey, I'm Irish and going for Barack." It's awesome. Plus, apparently it's the only shirt not sold out....so I guess I'm lucky.
Alisia had a concert tonight that featured Cody Hollow of Reverend Slanky going to town on a marimba solo that left the audience floored. Swriously, the guy's intense. He used three mallets in both hands to rock out – and the entire time he had NO sheet music. Completely badass. The entire audience could not stop talking about it, and the orchestra felt equally amused by it. So, future reference, the guy's really good. (Note: tomorrow night–Friday, March 21–the Badlander charges no cover to see the Slanky in case anyone out there feels like $2 PBR and dancing.)
And that was it...
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Day 65: So...I got tickets to the Barack and Hillary show
Just writing that post title bothered me. I feel sort of bad about the whole deal with the Mansfield-Metcalf Dinner after reading posts all over the place about those missing out (sorry Pete, Señor Singer, Mr. Stevens, Jhwygirl, Rebecca, et al, though congrats to Wulfgar).
Like I said at 4&20, if something changes with my tickets I'll make sure some of you get to go (Although I did find Singer's take humorous based on the incessant attacks about Forward Montana's funding, and Ayn "Confused by Irony" Rand commenting at 4&20 that "party elites" got tickets...Apparently Soros doesn't pack the same sway as he used to...I'm kidding of course).
I promise that I'll put up pictures of the event afterward, so at least there's that. And who knows, maybe I'll get to actually be close to one of these Possible Presidents, to ask a question... (Again, sorry that me – me the unemployed journo – got tickets. I feel like Wayne and Garth here; as if I should shout, "I'm not worthy!" over and over again. I promise to have fun in your steads, however.)
Outside of getting tickets to the April 5th shenanigans I had lunch at Sean Kelly's today with some kids from the Indy (the new guy is very nice BTW), and that was about it. Later tonight Alisia's planned some big surprise for me that she won't divulge, which kind of sucks because I hate surprises.
The whole surprise thing bothers me because if you hate the surprise it's an automatic reaction without a hint of suppression. Hence, you're surprised. In other words: you better like the deal or you'll suffer for it since surprises take time and effort and hating on it hurts peoples' feel goods. But, I digress. Hopefully she knows me well enough that I don't have to worry.
Anyway...I'd like to get back to the 4&20 post that Mr. Talbot put up about the Barillary tickets. At the end he talks about pasties being served at former congressman Pat Williams' birthday. I'd just like to say that his proves one thing I've always felt in my heart: pasties are the food of the Democratic Party. If there is a way to have it declared as such I think it should happen...maybe then people will stop mocking my love of potato and meat pies...
Hopefully my old Indy comrade John S. Adams got good intel from the Dems (I'm betting he did since John is a super kick ass reporter) and Obama does stop in Missoula. That way we'll all get to at least see him.
All right kids, I'll see you tomorrow.
Like I said at 4&20, if something changes with my tickets I'll make sure some of you get to go (Although I did find Singer's take humorous based on the incessant attacks about Forward Montana's funding, and Ayn "Confused by Irony" Rand commenting at 4&20 that "party elites" got tickets...Apparently Soros doesn't pack the same sway as he used to...I'm kidding of course).
I promise that I'll put up pictures of the event afterward, so at least there's that. And who knows, maybe I'll get to actually be close to one of these Possible Presidents, to ask a question... (Again, sorry that me – me the unemployed journo – got tickets. I feel like Wayne and Garth here; as if I should shout, "I'm not worthy!" over and over again. I promise to have fun in your steads, however.)
Outside of getting tickets to the April 5th shenanigans I had lunch at Sean Kelly's today with some kids from the Indy (the new guy is very nice BTW), and that was about it. Later tonight Alisia's planned some big surprise for me that she won't divulge, which kind of sucks because I hate surprises.
The whole surprise thing bothers me because if you hate the surprise it's an automatic reaction without a hint of suppression. Hence, you're surprised. In other words: you better like the deal or you'll suffer for it since surprises take time and effort and hating on it hurts peoples' feel goods. But, I digress. Hopefully she knows me well enough that I don't have to worry.
Anyway...I'd like to get back to the 4&20 post that Mr. Talbot put up about the Barillary tickets. At the end he talks about pasties being served at former congressman Pat Williams' birthday. I'd just like to say that his proves one thing I've always felt in my heart: pasties are the food of the Democratic Party. If there is a way to have it declared as such I think it should happen...maybe then people will stop mocking my love of potato and meat pies...
Hopefully my old Indy comrade John S. Adams got good intel from the Dems (I'm betting he did since John is a super kick ass reporter) and Obama does stop in Missoula. That way we'll all get to at least see him.
All right kids, I'll see you tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Day 64: The swelling subsides
My lip feels better today because the swelling is down, but now the whole area is raw and chapped. So, it's kind of a wash, but whatever.
I grabbed lunch with Ashley today (check her pic of me to the right...she makes me look good) at Food for Thought to discuss our lives since we last hung out a few weeks ago. It provided plenty of laughs as I pointed out to her that she sometimes over analyzes her life – especially concerning men. Once I said this she started to over analyze her personality as a tomboyish girl. So, good humor fodder and a worthy way to spend the afternoon.
Then we parted and I did some writing...
Around 5 ish Ashley and I met up again, this time with Kyle, Zane and John, for brews at K-House. That rocked as well and I told a great story about Mike Gerrity, a Kaimin reporter who today published a really great story about Cyril Kenneth Richard, the guy who allegedly killed his roommate in self defense a few weeks ago. It's shockingly awful – not Gerrity's writing, but the whole event surrounding this kid. Whether or not his story proves more truth than fiction, the events leading to this story are just tragic. I know Alisia's felt weird ever since the murder because it happened just a few blocks from her house, but I digress. I suggest reading the feature to get a picture into everything that happened. Honestly, I think it's the best story so far on the whole event, though don't tell Gerrity I said that. He's a putz of a man.
Also, today my friend Jordan also pushed me to a new job (like a certain "motherly" figure has been doing as well...she knows who she is). This one sounds good, so good that I'm not talking about it. I'll tell more later...
Anyway, I hope all is well out there in the world my fair readers. See ya soon.
I grabbed lunch with Ashley today (check her pic of me to the right...she makes me look good) at Food for Thought to discuss our lives since we last hung out a few weeks ago. It provided plenty of laughs as I pointed out to her that she sometimes over analyzes her life – especially concerning men. Once I said this she started to over analyze her personality as a tomboyish girl. So, good humor fodder and a worthy way to spend the afternoon.
Then we parted and I did some writing...
Around 5 ish Ashley and I met up again, this time with Kyle, Zane and John, for brews at K-House. That rocked as well and I told a great story about Mike Gerrity, a Kaimin reporter who today published a really great story about Cyril Kenneth Richard, the guy who allegedly killed his roommate in self defense a few weeks ago. It's shockingly awful – not Gerrity's writing, but the whole event surrounding this kid. Whether or not his story proves more truth than fiction, the events leading to this story are just tragic. I know Alisia's felt weird ever since the murder because it happened just a few blocks from her house, but I digress. I suggest reading the feature to get a picture into everything that happened. Honestly, I think it's the best story so far on the whole event, though don't tell Gerrity I said that. He's a putz of a man.
Also, today my friend Jordan also pushed me to a new job (like a certain "motherly" figure has been doing as well...she knows who she is). This one sounds good, so good that I'm not talking about it. I'll tell more later...
Anyway, I hope all is well out there in the world my fair readers. See ya soon.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Day 63: A small look at my (lack of) belief
Like I’ve said before on this blog, my parents raised me Catholic, but I’m not really into it, or God in general for that matter. This often causes crisis in my life because people have attempted to convert me – save me, as some call it – or at the very least insult my lack of belief in a higher being.
A friend once told me, “I can’t understand how you look at the world, see all of these things like animals and us and all of this, and still don’t think something made it happen. That something made it this way for us.” Okay, he said it much less eloquently and with many “ums” and “ahs” thrown in, but the gist of it was that I, by way of agnosticism, downplayed the miracle of life.
Hmm… Whatever. That was the Christian take, as for the other side…
Sophomore year of college a guy loaned me a book called Atheism: The Case Against God by George H. Smith, a kind of 1980s version of Christopher Hitchens or Richard Dawkins. He gave me this book as a way to –and this makes me laugh – convert me to atheism. He’d been at my apartment ranting about how belief in God was stupid and immature, and only for those with weak intellect. He eventually turned to everyone in the room and asked for their beliefs. After condemning a few Christians he reached me: the token agnostic.
More so than the Christians, I annoyed him. How could I be in the middle? Either there is or isn’t a God. Done deal. No debate. I’m apparently an idiot. The book changed hands.
In his book Smith argues that since the word atheism consists of “a-” – lack of – and “theism” – belief in God – all agnostics are actually atheists because they “lack belief in God.” I read that and thought to myself, “That’s not what an agnostic is…” And then the rest of the book seemed kind of self-righteous and rude, as if he needed to be a huge dick with a book to legitimize his beliefs. This picture of a guy acting rude because of a book conjured thoughts of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, and led me back to my agnostic position.
I know not of God’s existence, nor do I care. That is, until recently.
I’m currently trading off between reading Hitchens’ God is Not Great, and A.J. Jacobs’ The Year of Living Biblically (The Hot Zone and Hell’s Angels distracted me for a while so I’m behind in both), and the different takes on belief, God, the Bible, and faith each author discusses is enough to get even me filled up with questions again. Plus John and Sean are both taking a class on the Bible with John remaining confused about Jesus and the fig tree despite reading, and re-reading the passages. (Nothing can really get him to understand why Jesus would, of all things, condemn a fig tree. I told him that the Catholic priest in Anaconda used to say it was to show Jesus was a normal man with anger and passion, but the more I think of it, it’s probably just out of context, and or a stupid story…but still…)
With so much God floating around it seemed perfect thatlast night Alisia would say how from time to time she envies those with undying commitment and belief in Heaven, Hell, God, Jesus, and so on. The believers seem pretty happy and fulfilled in a faith-based initiative that “God” is the answer to everything. (What makes a hurricane? God. Why does Plum Creek own most of northern Maine? God.)
Her statement caught me off guard because I know that feeling all too well. Atheists and theists each have this place they can go to where the answer is simple. For the believers, miracles did it. For the non-believers, something logical caused it. But when you’re agnostic things sometimes remain unanswered. For instance, I’ve always believed in the evolutionary theory proposed by Darwin, but it leaves one gaping hole: What caused that first cell to form? It’s the one part science can’t figure out, and believers call God – at least as far as I care to delve into the whole idea anyway.
Being enough to one side of the argument would leave a lot of things less murky, most assuredly. But as I said this I realized, again for maybe the hundredth time, why this feeling of envy subsides, and usually leaves me feeling okay where I stand.
I thought of how everyday I need medication to control my asthma, how I was jaundice at birth and needed ultra-violet light therapy to kick-start my liver. I thought of how I lived for 9-months in a womb without being ejected too early, how the fertilized egg that became me latched on to my Mammy’s uterus, how a single sperm from my Dad made it to that egg, how my parents had to want kids, how they had to meet, how my Mom had to survive a car wreck to get to that moment, how my Dad had to survive being a premature triplet in 1956. I thought of how both lived 25 and 29 years respectively to get to the place where they made me, and I thought of how my Dad needed to divorce his first wife and how my Mom had to decide on being a mom to his 4-year-old son. (Take a breath…I know I need one.) And when I thought of all of this, how odd, and even absurd my existence really is, I thought of how odd it is that 6.6 billion other people do as well. And this made me think of something a friend once told me:
Then I thought of how to be on that couch, huddled next to a few candles, Alisia and I both had to move to Missoula, be introduced by our mutual friend Alex, and actually like each other… the odds, again, felt daunting, wholly improbable, but real. I thought of how some people would look at this and say that God meant for it, others would say it was the random outcome of every event leading up to it. But something inside of me felt sated that the “how” didn’t, and doesn’t, matter. At all. It just matters to be there in the moment.
I don’t care why I’m here or why anyone else is. We are, and that’s enough. The “rug” seems to be a very nice picture to think of. And as far as miracles? Well, like I said, we were all somehow born, and given that the fertilization of an egg is nearly impossible; I think it’s pretty amazing. Maybe not in the same league as sea-partings, but amazing anyway.
And with those feelings I felt confident in ending any kind envy toward the theists and atheists. I don’t give a shit either way. I just know that I woke up today and could breath, and could think. And that’s good.
The only real lingering question I have now is why the hell Jesus would nuke a fig tree? It just seems like a stupid idea, nuking a fig tree just because…
Damnit…
A friend once told me, “I can’t understand how you look at the world, see all of these things like animals and us and all of this, and still don’t think something made it happen. That something made it this way for us.” Okay, he said it much less eloquently and with many “ums” and “ahs” thrown in, but the gist of it was that I, by way of agnosticism, downplayed the miracle of life.
Hmm… Whatever. That was the Christian take, as for the other side…
Sophomore year of college a guy loaned me a book called Atheism: The Case Against God by George H. Smith, a kind of 1980s version of Christopher Hitchens or Richard Dawkins. He gave me this book as a way to –and this makes me laugh – convert me to atheism. He’d been at my apartment ranting about how belief in God was stupid and immature, and only for those with weak intellect. He eventually turned to everyone in the room and asked for their beliefs. After condemning a few Christians he reached me: the token agnostic.
More so than the Christians, I annoyed him. How could I be in the middle? Either there is or isn’t a God. Done deal. No debate. I’m apparently an idiot. The book changed hands.
In his book Smith argues that since the word atheism consists of “a-” – lack of – and “theism” – belief in God – all agnostics are actually atheists because they “lack belief in God.” I read that and thought to myself, “That’s not what an agnostic is…” And then the rest of the book seemed kind of self-righteous and rude, as if he needed to be a huge dick with a book to legitimize his beliefs. This picture of a guy acting rude because of a book conjured thoughts of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, and led me back to my agnostic position.
I know not of God’s existence, nor do I care. That is, until recently.
I’m currently trading off between reading Hitchens’ God is Not Great, and A.J. Jacobs’ The Year of Living Biblically (The Hot Zone and Hell’s Angels distracted me for a while so I’m behind in both), and the different takes on belief, God, the Bible, and faith each author discusses is enough to get even me filled up with questions again. Plus John and Sean are both taking a class on the Bible with John remaining confused about Jesus and the fig tree despite reading, and re-reading the passages. (Nothing can really get him to understand why Jesus would, of all things, condemn a fig tree. I told him that the Catholic priest in Anaconda used to say it was to show Jesus was a normal man with anger and passion, but the more I think of it, it’s probably just out of context, and or a stupid story…but still…)
With so much God floating around it seemed perfect thatlast night Alisia would say how from time to time she envies those with undying commitment and belief in Heaven, Hell, God, Jesus, and so on. The believers seem pretty happy and fulfilled in a faith-based initiative that “God” is the answer to everything. (What makes a hurricane? God. Why does Plum Creek own most of northern Maine? God.)
Her statement caught me off guard because I know that feeling all too well. Atheists and theists each have this place they can go to where the answer is simple. For the believers, miracles did it. For the non-believers, something logical caused it. But when you’re agnostic things sometimes remain unanswered. For instance, I’ve always believed in the evolutionary theory proposed by Darwin, but it leaves one gaping hole: What caused that first cell to form? It’s the one part science can’t figure out, and believers call God – at least as far as I care to delve into the whole idea anyway.
Being enough to one side of the argument would leave a lot of things less murky, most assuredly. But as I said this I realized, again for maybe the hundredth time, why this feeling of envy subsides, and usually leaves me feeling okay where I stand.
I thought of how everyday I need medication to control my asthma, how I was jaundice at birth and needed ultra-violet light therapy to kick-start my liver. I thought of how I lived for 9-months in a womb without being ejected too early, how the fertilized egg that became me latched on to my Mammy’s uterus, how a single sperm from my Dad made it to that egg, how my parents had to want kids, how they had to meet, how my Mom had to survive a car wreck to get to that moment, how my Dad had to survive being a premature triplet in 1956. I thought of how both lived 25 and 29 years respectively to get to the place where they made me, and I thought of how my Dad needed to divorce his first wife and how my Mom had to decide on being a mom to his 4-year-old son. (Take a breath…I know I need one.) And when I thought of all of this, how odd, and even absurd my existence really is, I thought of how odd it is that 6.6 billion other people do as well. And this made me think of something a friend once told me:
We’re all just fibers in an afghan or a rug. Just these threads that move over and under one another, and are forever moved when they run into each other, and exist only because of how they’re all connected.
Then I thought of how to be on that couch, huddled next to a few candles, Alisia and I both had to move to Missoula, be introduced by our mutual friend Alex, and actually like each other… the odds, again, felt daunting, wholly improbable, but real. I thought of how some people would look at this and say that God meant for it, others would say it was the random outcome of every event leading up to it. But something inside of me felt sated that the “how” didn’t, and doesn’t, matter. At all. It just matters to be there in the moment.
I don’t care why I’m here or why anyone else is. We are, and that’s enough. The “rug” seems to be a very nice picture to think of. And as far as miracles? Well, like I said, we were all somehow born, and given that the fertilization of an egg is nearly impossible; I think it’s pretty amazing. Maybe not in the same league as sea-partings, but amazing anyway.
And with those feelings I felt confident in ending any kind envy toward the theists and atheists. I don’t give a shit either way. I just know that I woke up today and could breath, and could think. And that’s good.
The only real lingering question I have now is why the hell Jesus would nuke a fig tree? It just seems like a stupid idea, nuking a fig tree just because…
Damnit…
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Day 60, 61, and 62: A stunted weekend
You'd think three days would bring a bunch of change and stories to tell, but not so much. All and all I didn't do too much. Friday night I went up to Helena with John and we pretty much just hung at the cabin. I actually fell asleep at about 11:30 while Predator played in the background. So not much to report.
Saturday proved a little more interesting with John and I scoping a rather boring parade in downtown Helena to celebrate my personal holiday. I know, I know: Why wasn't I in Butte? Because, those honkies are crazy. Seriously. I've seen a man shit off a building during the revelry, and I'm not too pressed to repeat the witnessing. At all. I got other things to do.
We did manage to catch some time with Sarah and Jeff (married friends) and grab a Busch on tap at a dive called O'Toole's. Not really my bag, but with $1.5o beers I can see why it could be a place to hit while in town.
To finish off the day Alisia and I had dinner (she's somewhat better, but still recovering), and watched a few movies while drinking wine. So that was fun actually, but not very eventful in a way I can articulate. And now Sunday...
A few weeks ago I asked Alisia the following: What if I pierced my lip?
I thought she'd for sure say what most people do when I suggest such foolishness – NO! – but instead she shrugged, asked where, and then said she thought it'd look cool. I then sat on this thought for a few weeks: would it look cool? Why would I do such a thing? But today it came down to either shitting or removing myself from the aforementioned "pot." So, I...
So far Tonya and Sean hate it (the couple who loves together hates together).
John, Alisia, and my friend Paul all like it.
I know some people are sure to say it looks stupid and that I'm officially a schmuck, but I like it. Besides, it's not permanent. I can always remove it someday. It's not like my tattoos, which cost more and will stay with me forever more. This can go away in a matter of days.
I must say, however, that it hurt. A shit ton. As someone with tattoos over bone, believe me, this hurt just as much if not more. My eyes admittedly tingled in a way that made me think I was going to be babyish, but then they quit and I felt nothing but dizziness. This is normal, I was told.
So that's my weekend, please let the comments commence, but remember that it's not something that will last forever. Plus, I bought it with money from the Indy. In other words: Holla.
Saturday proved a little more interesting with John and I scoping a rather boring parade in downtown Helena to celebrate my personal holiday. I know, I know: Why wasn't I in Butte? Because, those honkies are crazy. Seriously. I've seen a man shit off a building during the revelry, and I'm not too pressed to repeat the witnessing. At all. I got other things to do.
We did manage to catch some time with Sarah and Jeff (married friends) and grab a Busch on tap at a dive called O'Toole's. Not really my bag, but with $1.5o beers I can see why it could be a place to hit while in town.
To finish off the day Alisia and I had dinner (she's somewhat better, but still recovering), and watched a few movies while drinking wine. So that was fun actually, but not very eventful in a way I can articulate. And now Sunday...
A few weeks ago I asked Alisia the following: What if I pierced my lip?
I thought she'd for sure say what most people do when I suggest such foolishness – NO! – but instead she shrugged, asked where, and then said she thought it'd look cool. I then sat on this thought for a few weeks: would it look cool? Why would I do such a thing? But today it came down to either shitting or removing myself from the aforementioned "pot." So, I...
So far Tonya and Sean hate it (the couple who loves together hates together).
John, Alisia, and my friend Paul all like it.
I must say, however, that it hurt. A shit ton. As someone with tattoos over bone, believe me, this hurt just as much if not more. My eyes admittedly tingled in a way that made me think I was going to be babyish, but then they quit and I felt nothing but dizziness. This is normal, I was told.
So that's my weekend, please let the comments commence, but remember that it's not something that will last forever. Plus, I bought it with money from the Indy. In other words: Holla.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Day 59: Chauffeuring and writing
Okay…so this post’s been sitting around the last few days because it kind of freaked me out. In reality, it’s just Day 57’s original post. I just winged the other Day 57 post since this one got me freaked…
Without further ado:
Alisia went back to the salt mines today even though she's still not too healthy. With the feds figured out, and waiting for other job offers, I got around to writing some fiction today, so I'm happy since I'm actually creating ideas again.
Nothing else to report on the day other than Gone Baby Gone is pretty good. Lots of twists, though unfortunately I figured out the ending about 20 minutes early. Still, I recommend it.
Without further ado:
So, last night I had a dream – a sexy dream. This girl I used to hang out with came into my room and told me bluntly that she wanted to do things to me that my Catholic upbringing will not allow me to repeat, even though I’m pretty damn agnostic nowadays.I also forgot something about yesterday. I bought a Tommy the Leprechaun shirt at K-House for $15. I’m sure nearly everyone reading already has one, but they’re good shirts and the money goes to help the Poverello Center, so it’s worthwhile to buy more than one (I’m unemployed though, so my purchase of one is forgivable). Plus, while you’re at the K-House you can drink a beer, and that’s always a good time.
I protest a bit saying, of all things, “I’m tired.” Undeterred she used some type of magic, and/or witchcraft, and removed my pants forcefully. At this point her clothes disappeared and she ran at me like a rhino. This was not cool, at all, and something clicked in my brain that made me say, “No…get off of me…I’m seeing someone.”
Like that the girl disappeared, and I was left alone and without pants.
Do you see what happened? I was faithful in a dream. A dream! This is the one place where anything goes, where I fly and play guitar with John Lennon, and where I punch various politicians in the groin. But with this dream I acted with restraint and care. I didn’t cheat on a girl in my sleep.
I woke up afterward to find Alisia moving awkwardly in her sleep, her fever spiking higher again. I rubbed her back and watched as light from outside of her apartment moved over us every few seconds. I thought to myself, “You better like me, cause I just avoided amazing dream sex for you.”
And the worst part of all of this? I don’t even remember dream girl’s name…I’m a lowlife even in my sleep.
Alisia went back to the salt mines today even though she's still not too healthy. With the feds figured out, and waiting for other job offers, I got around to writing some fiction today, so I'm happy since I'm actually creating ideas again.
Nothing else to report on the day other than Gone Baby Gone is pretty good. Lots of twists, though unfortunately I figured out the ending about 20 minutes early. Still, I recommend it.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Day 58: Well... Okay kids
As I begin writing this I'm listening to John and Jamie watch Love Actually, and Bill talk to Unnamed Girl about whether or not to watch Once. Bill's having an ethical quandary that I'm not in to talking about, but still, I kind of agree with him.
Today I won my fight with the Feds! A package containing my study package for Postal Worker should be in the mail tonight at 3 a.m., which means I'll soon be studying for a job as a postal worker. I also, as I said, had an interview with a certain group today. I'm not going to name it because unlike the Feds, people may actually know people involved in this group. I thought the interview went well, particularly because I feel we agree on how Montana's land should be used. But anyway...
Alisia's feeling somewhat better, but she's probably a few days shy of recovery. Hopefully she gets there soon because we have some plans coming up...
John and I went to the Dark Abyss today because he needed to buy a DVD player for his living room (he recently gave up cable). I tagged along to buy a new water bottle at Sportsman's WArehouse, and, also buy a few of Wind's Bakery pasties. John mocked my for purchasing this culinary treat, but it always makes me feel at home (the pasties are made in Anaconda after all). I reminded him that he's short, he mocked my chubbiness, and we then met Zane and Kyle for brews at K-House.
Right now I'm figuring out the rest of the night, which apparently I should stick around for. Then again, I have that sick girl in need of someone. So, what to do? What to do?
Normally I'd feel odd about the debate, if only because most of the girls I've dated have had a big shit storm over even the idea that I'd have the debate. But Alisia's a lot more laid back. Even with a fever.
It freaks me out as much as it pleases me. Is it normal for a person of my opposite gender to act...normal? Breaks my brain just thinking about it. But, anyway, I should figure the night out and get on with it. Overall, I've had a good day. Farewell.
Today I won my fight with the Feds! A package containing my study package for Postal Worker should be in the mail tonight at 3 a.m., which means I'll soon be studying for a job as a postal worker. I also, as I said, had an interview with a certain group today. I'm not going to name it because unlike the Feds, people may actually know people involved in this group. I thought the interview went well, particularly because I feel we agree on how Montana's land should be used. But anyway...
Alisia's feeling somewhat better, but she's probably a few days shy of recovery. Hopefully she gets there soon because we have some plans coming up...
John and I went to the Dark Abyss today because he needed to buy a DVD player for his living room (he recently gave up cable). I tagged along to buy a new water bottle at Sportsman's WArehouse, and, also buy a few of Wind's Bakery pasties. John mocked my for purchasing this culinary treat, but it always makes me feel at home (the pasties are made in Anaconda after all). I reminded him that he's short, he mocked my chubbiness, and we then met Zane and Kyle for brews at K-House.
Right now I'm figuring out the rest of the night, which apparently I should stick around for. Then again, I have that sick girl in need of someone. So, what to do? What to do?
Normally I'd feel odd about the debate, if only because most of the girls I've dated have had a big shit storm over even the idea that I'd have the debate. But Alisia's a lot more laid back. Even with a fever.
It freaks me out as much as it pleases me. Is it normal for a person of my opposite gender to act...normal? Breaks my brain just thinking about it. But, anyway, I should figure the night out and get on with it. Overall, I've had a good day. Farewell.
Day 57: A late update
I skipped blogging last night to play nurse and wrap my head around an interview I have today (I'll talk about it tonight). Sitting down in front of the blog to type something out just didn't feel doable. So I'm here this morning to do it.
Yesterday I had a fight with the federal government and my credit card company that went like this:
After messing around for a bit, after the postal fight, I headed back to Alisia's to find her worse for the wear. Her fever had reached 103º, which is bad. Very bad. Not good at all. Really scary. But it soon collapsed as I got her to take some Tylenol and eat popsicles (actually, Dreyer's fruit bars, which rock). And that was essentially the whole day.
Yesterday I had a fight with the federal government and my credit card company that went like this:
Me: You [the Postal Service] haven't sent my test book.I don't know what'll happen because I have to call the PS again today and repeat this fight. IT bothers me to a great extent.
Postal service: You're not in the system.
Me: I paid you.
PS: Hmmm.....could you send us a statement proving that?
Me: I'm getting fucked by the Postal Service.
Capitol One: For real?
Me: Holla.
CO: I'm on it.
After messing around for a bit, after the postal fight, I headed back to Alisia's to find her worse for the wear. Her fever had reached 103º, which is bad. Very bad. Not good at all. Really scary. But it soon collapsed as I got her to take some Tylenol and eat popsicles (actually, Dreyer's fruit bars, which rock). And that was essentially the whole day.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Day 56: Hospitals suck, and I get offended by an Oklahoman
Took Alisia to Community Medical Center today, which proved more beneficial for my people watching time than her health care. After two and a half hours of waiting in a room the doctor finally got around to telling her she didn't have strep, but did have "an upper respiratory virus." Great, just the single best thing the girlfriend of an asthmatic could have...I'm overjoyed.
Anyway, I got her to eat some soup, which she's eating right now as she asks me what color her toenails should be. Odd as it may seem, I'm not a foot fetishist, so I care very little what color these nails are. But I play along and tell her, "Pink." Which they already are. (Note: as I write this she's began looking at me, and I'm sure she knows I'm writing something about her...)
Since most of my day was spent caring for the sicky I barely got around to checking in on the world. But I did spy an item on CNN, which led me to this YouTube clip:
What a terrible wench. On all fronts. On her religious smugness, her hate, and her utter lack of decency. Man I hate Oklahoma. But the worst part is that what she said doesn't seem so out of the ordinary for some people, and this disturbs me greatly. Right now, somewhere in Missoula, a parent is telling their child this kind of garbage, and someday that kid will ooze the same vitriol out into the world. It's just awful.
The sicky and I are gearing up to watch Once here in a minute, so I gotta go. Take it easy everyone, and if you can, please avoid being a homophobic, myopic turd. It'd make my day.
Anyway, I got her to eat some soup, which she's eating right now as she asks me what color her toenails should be. Odd as it may seem, I'm not a foot fetishist, so I care very little what color these nails are. But I play along and tell her, "Pink." Which they already are. (Note: as I write this she's began looking at me, and I'm sure she knows I'm writing something about her...)
Since most of my day was spent caring for the sicky I barely got around to checking in on the world. But I did spy an item on CNN, which led me to this YouTube clip:
What a terrible wench. On all fronts. On her religious smugness, her hate, and her utter lack of decency. Man I hate Oklahoma. But the worst part is that what she said doesn't seem so out of the ordinary for some people, and this disturbs me greatly. Right now, somewhere in Missoula, a parent is telling their child this kind of garbage, and someday that kid will ooze the same vitriol out into the world. It's just awful.
The sicky and I are gearing up to watch Once here in a minute, so I gotta go. Take it easy everyone, and if you can, please avoid being a homophobic, myopic turd. It'd make my day.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Day 54 and 55: Alisia gets sick; I beat John at bowling
Friday night a bunch of us went to the Mauler’s game against Helena…It was a bit of a couple affair involving John, Jamie, Alisia, myself, Bill, an unnamed girl (Note: I’ll leave her out for now, but she may stick around for future blogging), and Alex. Even before the first puck dropped Jamie and Alisia started talking. A lot. It inspired me to send John a text saying we needed to stop them from becoming too friendly. We got plenty of laughs out of that, but truth be told it was a little weird when they talked about how both couples should learn how to dance better. Personally I thought we covered this already…
One bad thing from the game was a woman who may or may not have bathed in perfume. She smelled like honey mustard and fart. Everyone nearby began to complain in code. “There’s…something that’s bad…” and, “[Whispering] This woman smells like…bad.”
There was also a guy with a toothpick stuck in the brim of his hat for convenience. I only bring this up because he winked at Alisia in that special asshat kind of way that says, “Yeah, I’m money.” What an ass. And it's not like I'm insecure about other guys looking at her, I just hate idiotic men who make every other guy look bad. I mean, winking? A toothpick hat? I bet he'll vote for McCain too.
Somewhere around the end of the second period Bill and I invented a fictional robot named “Billtrick – the justice robot who runs on pure Patiam Fuel.” Yes, that is a combination of our names. And yes, at the Albertson’s next to Paul’s Pancakes you can find a shamrock signifying Billtrick’s donation toward the study of muscular dystrophy.
And that was pretty much Friday.
Saturday started off with breakfast at the Shack with Sean and Tonya, and John and Jamie. Tonya and Alisia seemed to hit it off (I base this on Tonya’s later appraisal that Alisia was nice)…frankly I’m a little weirded out by her getting along with people in my life. Usually this doesn’t happen. The women in my life often hate my friends, or at the very least don’t think of them in friendly terms. But Alisia seems to get along with everyone…I’ll investigate this further and report back on why this is happening…
Saturday night Sean, John and I went bowling for a little bit. Now, while my game two didn’t go very well, I must say that I beat John in the first game with a stunning end of three straight strikes and a spare:
(Note: John won game two...but to be fair, I'd been drinking, and I'm taller. Holla)
Alisia felt slightly under the weather on Friday, and worse on Saturday night, so she didn’t go out bowling. After taking out Cribb I went over to her house, where she seemed sort of destroyed. Particularly in the early morning when she, erm…vacated her stomach repeatedly. I gotta be honest, when you’re first dating someone and they start the morning vomit, a bit of you fills with fear – huge amounts of fear actually. But, luckily she just has the flu…which isn’t lucky at all.
All day I’ve been sitting by trying to get Alisia’s fever to subside (she been over 100º all day). But alas, she’s not doing much better. I’m heading over to her house to make her drink Gatorade and see if she’s improved. I’ll see you kids tomorrow.
One bad thing from the game was a woman who may or may not have bathed in perfume. She smelled like honey mustard and fart. Everyone nearby began to complain in code. “There’s…something that’s bad…” and, “[Whispering] This woman smells like…bad.”
There was also a guy with a toothpick stuck in the brim of his hat for convenience. I only bring this up because he winked at Alisia in that special asshat kind of way that says, “Yeah, I’m money.” What an ass. And it's not like I'm insecure about other guys looking at her, I just hate idiotic men who make every other guy look bad. I mean, winking? A toothpick hat? I bet he'll vote for McCain too.
Somewhere around the end of the second period Bill and I invented a fictional robot named “Billtrick – the justice robot who runs on pure Patiam Fuel.” Yes, that is a combination of our names. And yes, at the Albertson’s next to Paul’s Pancakes you can find a shamrock signifying Billtrick’s donation toward the study of muscular dystrophy.
And that was pretty much Friday.
Saturday started off with breakfast at the Shack with Sean and Tonya, and John and Jamie. Tonya and Alisia seemed to hit it off (I base this on Tonya’s later appraisal that Alisia was nice)…frankly I’m a little weirded out by her getting along with people in my life. Usually this doesn’t happen. The women in my life often hate my friends, or at the very least don’t think of them in friendly terms. But Alisia seems to get along with everyone…I’ll investigate this further and report back on why this is happening…
Saturday night Sean, John and I went bowling for a little bit. Now, while my game two didn’t go very well, I must say that I beat John in the first game with a stunning end of three straight strikes and a spare:
Take that Cribb! Your ass is now officially owned by PatCo., a Duganzacrom Corporation. Bitch.
(Note: John won game two...but to be fair, I'd been drinking, and I'm taller. Holla)
Alisia felt slightly under the weather on Friday, and worse on Saturday night, so she didn’t go out bowling. After taking out Cribb I went over to her house, where she seemed sort of destroyed. Particularly in the early morning when she, erm…vacated her stomach repeatedly. I gotta be honest, when you’re first dating someone and they start the morning vomit, a bit of you fills with fear – huge amounts of fear actually. But, luckily she just has the flu…which isn’t lucky at all.
All day I’ve been sitting by trying to get Alisia’s fever to subside (she been over 100º all day). But alas, she’s not doing much better. I’m heading over to her house to make her drink Gatorade and see if she’s improved. I’ll see you kids tomorrow.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Day 53: Recap of the PBR thing, and previewing the weekend
Last night's PBR Band of the Year deal at the Otherside renewed my faith in mankind, and then shot it all to hell.
First off, as frequent readers know, I have a special place in my Irish heart for Alt-country/indie-folk act the Good Neighbor Policy, but last night I also found room to add in a few other local bands that I had foolishly not shown love to previously.
GNP started off the night, and had a good set, though the place hadn't filled up as much as it would later in the night so only about 40 people got to see them go all out (though I wished they'd ended the night with "Cruel World" as per usual *sigh*).
Next up came Black Velvet Elvises with their own unique brand of rock. I've seen these kids before and wasn't exactly floored, but last night I really enjoyed their set (even though they failed to play their cover of "Last Caress" by the Misfits). They really showed up and got the walls shaking. Olivia, their singer, did her very best Deborah Harry impression and made the entire set worth watching. Much fun.
Frequent Duganz at 23 comment-maker Chris LaTray (and fellow blogger) next took the stage with his band Lazerwolfs. I must admit that I'm not a huge metal fan. I kind of find it to be mostly noise with very little musicality. But with its Hüsker Dü meets Motörhead kind of sound Lazerwolfs may make me a believer – especially with Chris introducing a song as follows:
After Lazerwolfs exited the stage things turned bad, I mean really bad. Walking Corpse Syndrome "played," and somewhere inside I lost my will to breath, think, or exist. I had never seen this band before since I have an aversion to any band with a convoluted name referencing zombies. I'd describe this WCS' sound as noise, but the band Crass is noise and doesn't suck as much as this band. That's right. I said Crass, Crass for goddsake, doesn't suck as much as WCS. The poster for the PBR gig listed them as "Industrial/metal," but that doesn't really do it justice. It should have said "bad/worse." I should have seen the writing on the wall when they brought out two drum kits (groan), but I just thought they were being creative...
Okay, I'm honestly being a dick on this one. If I were actually into their style of music I probably would have been down with them more than a stay-at-home-mom during an Oprah marathon. But as it is I just felt like I was watching Hot Topic vomit out a band. However, one cool addition they brought to the night was a group of "zombie dancers." It was shameless gimmicky crap I normally hate, but given the rest of what was going on with this band I'll say it came off as the least "hey, we're a really cool band!!!!LOL!1!" bit of their whole shtick.
Reverend Slanky played after, and as always got people moving and shaking, which is a lot better than having them just stand against the wall looking. Biggest surprise in the set: a cover of Prince's "Musicology." After this ended I went home because John was leaving, and Alisia wanted to head out as well, plus I was tired. So I missed performances from The Hermans, iNHUMANS and Blessidoom, and the announcement that Slanky won the whole competition.
Oh well. It was a good night out.
I'm getting ready to do some serious writing today, and maybe play some guitar (along with more applications and job searching). For the weekend I'm not planning on much outside of a Maulers game tonight, and some movie watching on the weekend...which brings me to this point...
The other day I was watching TV at John, Sean, and Bill's when I caught a new commercial from Showcase Video that had some slightly veiled digs at Netflix. It shows a guy going to his mailbox a few times, becoming frustrated and then going to Showcase for whatever generic, unnamed film he wants to see. The guy then says, "This is a lot better than waiting on my mailbox!"
LOLOLOLOL!...wait...It's a terrible commercial.
Admittedly at some level I feel bad about no longer frequenting local movie shops for my viewing needs, but Netflix is really nice. I don't ever worry about late fees, or something being out of stock. The only downside is the wait to get movies. I hate that, but the films do eventually come so I can't complain too much.
But after watching the commercial I have decided that when I want a movie NOW, and cannot wait two days to watch one, I will go down to Showcase or Crystal to grab hold of something. Maybe The Missoula Riots, something tells me that'll be a good primer for the summer...
Take care kids, I'll see you soon.
*Update: After posting this I headed over to 4&20 where Rebecca said the same thing. Great minds think alike I guess. Either that or Lazerwolfs actually did kick ass.
**Second Update: Originally I had this as "Thirteen," but Chris corrected me, and so I've changed it.
First off, as frequent readers know, I have a special place in my Irish heart for Alt-country/indie-folk act the Good Neighbor Policy, but last night I also found room to add in a few other local bands that I had foolishly not shown love to previously.
GNP started off the night, and had a good set, though the place hadn't filled up as much as it would later in the night so only about 40 people got to see them go all out (though I wished they'd ended the night with "Cruel World" as per usual *sigh*).
Next up came Black Velvet Elvises with their own unique brand of rock. I've seen these kids before and wasn't exactly floored, but last night I really enjoyed their set (even though they failed to play their cover of "Last Caress" by the Misfits). They really showed up and got the walls shaking. Olivia, their singer, did her very best Deborah Harry impression and made the entire set worth watching. Much fun.
Frequent Duganz at 23 comment-maker Chris LaTray (and fellow blogger) next took the stage with his band Lazerwolfs. I must admit that I'm not a huge metal fan. I kind of find it to be mostly noise with very little musicality. But with its Hüsker Dü meets Motörhead kind of sound Lazerwolfs may make me a believer – especially with Chris introducing a song as follows:
"All right. This next one's called 'The Deed**.' It's a song about...um...fucking."Holla. I laughed at that intro a lot, as did my buddy John, who was equally swayed to, if not entirely liking metal, at least liking Lazerwolfs. Rock on.*
After Lazerwolfs exited the stage things turned bad, I mean really bad. Walking Corpse Syndrome "played," and somewhere inside I lost my will to breath, think, or exist. I had never seen this band before since I have an aversion to any band with a convoluted name referencing zombies. I'd describe this WCS' sound as noise, but the band Crass is noise and doesn't suck as much as this band. That's right. I said Crass, Crass for goddsake, doesn't suck as much as WCS. The poster for the PBR gig listed them as "Industrial/metal," but that doesn't really do it justice. It should have said "bad/worse." I should have seen the writing on the wall when they brought out two drum kits (groan), but I just thought they were being creative...
Okay, I'm honestly being a dick on this one. If I were actually into their style of music I probably would have been down with them more than a stay-at-home-mom during an Oprah marathon. But as it is I just felt like I was watching Hot Topic vomit out a band. However, one cool addition they brought to the night was a group of "zombie dancers." It was shameless gimmicky crap I normally hate, but given the rest of what was going on with this band I'll say it came off as the least "hey, we're a really cool band!!!!LOL!1!" bit of their whole shtick.
Reverend Slanky played after, and as always got people moving and shaking, which is a lot better than having them just stand against the wall looking. Biggest surprise in the set: a cover of Prince's "Musicology." After this ended I went home because John was leaving, and Alisia wanted to head out as well, plus I was tired. So I missed performances from The Hermans, iNHUMANS and Blessidoom, and the announcement that Slanky won the whole competition.
Oh well. It was a good night out.
I'm getting ready to do some serious writing today, and maybe play some guitar (along with more applications and job searching). For the weekend I'm not planning on much outside of a Maulers game tonight, and some movie watching on the weekend...which brings me to this point...
The other day I was watching TV at John, Sean, and Bill's when I caught a new commercial from Showcase Video that had some slightly veiled digs at Netflix. It shows a guy going to his mailbox a few times, becoming frustrated and then going to Showcase for whatever generic, unnamed film he wants to see. The guy then says, "This is a lot better than waiting on my mailbox!"
LOLOLOLOL!...wait...It's a terrible commercial.
Admittedly at some level I feel bad about no longer frequenting local movie shops for my viewing needs, but Netflix is really nice. I don't ever worry about late fees, or something being out of stock. The only downside is the wait to get movies. I hate that, but the films do eventually come so I can't complain too much.
But after watching the commercial I have decided that when I want a movie NOW, and cannot wait two days to watch one, I will go down to Showcase or Crystal to grab hold of something. Maybe The Missoula Riots, something tells me that'll be a good primer for the summer...
Take care kids, I'll see you soon.
*Update: After posting this I headed over to 4&20 where Rebecca said the same thing. Great minds think alike I guess. Either that or Lazerwolfs actually did kick ass.
**Second Update: Originally I had this as "Thirteen," but Chris corrected me, and so I've changed it.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Day 52: A sequel
About ten days back I posted about Bill getting drunk in Helena and telling everyone that when he dressed in drag his senior year in high school he “looked like a fat girl, but...could totally pull it off.”
I put the whole thing behind me until today when I got this item in my e-mail:
Wow. Am I right? He's so...well, he's right. That's all I can say. (I love you Bill!)
Outside of this I accomplished a lot today. I returned some Netflix movies, did my laundry, bought some CD-Rs, hung out with Karf for a bit, and I saved the galaxy in a video game. Yep, a very busy day indeed.
Tonight the Good Neighbor Policy and plenty of other good bands are playing, so I'm off to that. I'll post in the morning, maybe. Until then...think of Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill...coming out of that tank top....and think of me vomiting.
I put the whole thing behind me until today when I got this item in my e-mail:
Wow. Am I right? He's so...well, he's right. That's all I can say. (I love you Bill!)
Outside of this I accomplished a lot today. I returned some Netflix movies, did my laundry, bought some CD-Rs, hung out with Karf for a bit, and I saved the galaxy in a video game. Yep, a very busy day indeed.
Tonight the Good Neighbor Policy and plenty of other good bands are playing, so I'm off to that. I'll post in the morning, maybe. Until then...think of Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill...coming out of that tank top....and think of me vomiting.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Day 51: Still unemployed, but I feel better
Though I spent all day bored and refused to leave my house, I feel like I accomplished something, if only because I wrote up a storm of copy, reworking the entire scene I blogged about the other day so that it could work as more than a scene. I have no idea where the story will go, but accomplishing some actual creative work made me feel better.
I celebrated with a shower beer. Then I ran out of things to do.
After some bad jokes over a beer at Kettlehouse with Kyle and Zane I'm now getting ready to watch more Monk with Alisia (though truthfully I'm looking for a way to convince her to watch the Chipmunk Adventure). While at the Kettlehouse I noticed Al Pils changed his facial hair to a stand-alone mustache...yes, I frequent the joint enough to notice these things.
I'm still debating the piercing that many people left comments against, but given the universal hatred I don't know if I'll follow through with it. Or maybe I will just for spite.
I'll see what I can do tomorrow to make this more entertaining. Until then...Holla.
I celebrated with a shower beer. Then I ran out of things to do.
After some bad jokes over a beer at Kettlehouse with Kyle and Zane I'm now getting ready to watch more Monk with Alisia (though truthfully I'm looking for a way to convince her to watch the Chipmunk Adventure). While at the Kettlehouse I noticed Al Pils changed his facial hair to a stand-alone mustache...yes, I frequent the joint enough to notice these things.
I'm still debating the piercing that many people left comments against, but given the universal hatred I don't know if I'll follow through with it. Or maybe I will just for spite.
I'll see what I can do tomorrow to make this more entertaining. Until then...Holla.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Day 50: Bored, bored...so bored
Alisia seems worried about my state of mind now two weeks into my unemployment. I concur. This complete boredom business has me somewhat depressed and feeling the malaise a bit. All I did today was watch Mr. Show and play Mass Effect. Until later that is.
My friend Jordan dragged me out to Sean Kelly's Pub Trivia tonight to get our faces stomped in by those bastards "Work in Progress." Anyone who has ever joined the fray at Pub Trivia has heard this name, and knows what it means: victory. They always win and everyone always groans and feels bad afterward. And remember, I'm a guy who loves Pub Trivia and even recommended it to newbies in Missoula. Regardless of that, however, I hate Work in Progress.
Take this "Work in Progress"!
I also debated piercing my lip today, just out of boredom. I think it'd work if I did that, though maybe not. Any thoughts from you readers?
Outside of the trivia time I accomplished very little today and sank lower into this feeling of endless boredom and annoyance. Tomorrow I think I'll attempt to do something, even if it's just ride the bus around Missoula all day. See you then.
My friend Jordan dragged me out to Sean Kelly's Pub Trivia tonight to get our faces stomped in by those bastards "Work in Progress." Anyone who has ever joined the fray at Pub Trivia has heard this name, and knows what it means: victory. They always win and everyone always groans and feels bad afterward. And remember, I'm a guy who loves Pub Trivia and even recommended it to newbies in Missoula. Regardless of that, however, I hate Work in Progress.
Take this "Work in Progress"!I also debated piercing my lip today, just out of boredom. I think it'd work if I did that, though maybe not. Any thoughts from you readers?
Outside of the trivia time I accomplished very little today and sank lower into this feeling of endless boredom and annoyance. Tomorrow I think I'll attempt to do something, even if it's just ride the bus around Missoula all day. See you then.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Day 49: The rest of the day...
...I accomplished very little aside form attempting to put some polish on a scene I'm writing tha tmay turn into a larger project. That's right, like all unemployed people I'm trying to do something creative (but long time readers already knew this was coming). After the depressing morning I sort of just sat around playing guitar and looking at classifieds. So, in a word, boring. In two words, extremely monotonous.
An old chum from my J-School days (in that far off land of 2007) put this quote up on my morning post that I thought more people should read:
She was referring to the bombing today in Somalia that I linked to this morning. I added the explanation of who "they" refers to.
Kind of puts the whole war machine in perspective, doesn't it?
Anyway, I'm watching episodes of Monk tonight and probably drinking a Rolling Rock or two. I'll be back tomorrow with something better I hope.
An old chum from my J-School days (in that far off land of 2007) put this quote up on my morning post that I thought more people should read:
Oh they [the military] love using that word -precision- Truth is its a GPS guidance kit attached to a friggin bomb. Doesn't matter how precise it is if the areas populated. That thing hits and it sends out a shock wave that'll shatter concrete, kill anyone within 120 meter radius and send metal fragments and other debris as far as 1000 meters....and that's hoping the GPS doesn't malfunction and go way off target.
She was referring to the bombing today in Somalia that I linked to this morning. I added the explanation of who "they" refers to.
Kind of puts the whole war machine in perspective, doesn't it?
Anyway, I'm watching episodes of Monk tonight and probably drinking a Rolling Rock or two. I'll be back tomorrow with something better I hope.
Day 49: Morning update
Wow... I'm just shocked at this, especially the part that says:
The United States attacked a "known terrorist target" with precision missiles in southern Somalia on Monday, a U.S. military official said.The strike near Dhoobley, which is close to the Kenyan border, was aimed at a "facility where there were known terrorists" affiliated with East African al Qaeda operations, according to the official.
The strike destroyed two houses -- killing three women and three children, and wounding another 20 people -- Dhoobley's District Commissioner Ali Nur Ali Dherre told CNN. Dherre said the remains of the missiles were marked "US K."
I added in the italics. I'm just depressed about this.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Days 46, 47, and 48
I neglected to update on Friday, again, sorry. I got busy messing around my house and then before I knew it, it was time to head to the Union to catch Reverend Slanky and dance the night away. So I didn’t update.
Friday was actually an extremely good time, for John and I at least. I don’t know what happened for others out that night, but for us the night was filled with – and I’m not lying here – a dance off.
Many people don’t know this about me, but I got moves. I’m not talking extremely good moves, but moves nonetheless. I can somewhat dance…okay, I suck but I let myself go when given a chance and have been known to at the very least provide some people with entertainment. Friday it was Alisia, and John and his friend Jamie.
The thing about John is that he’s a bit cocky, and so am I. Get us together and we could compete on just about any dumbass thing from who can sneak in the best Blues Brothers joke, to who’s got the better ass (me). Friday it was dancing. Coupled up he and I attempted a competition on a floor so cramped up our elbows kept hitting other dancer, but we were not detoured in the slightest (possibly annoying some people). If anything the cramped quarters made the competition better since it attracted attention in a cliché movie way, which I personally feel all dance-offs need.
John thinks he won because he picked Jamie up in some half-assed swing-style maneuver, but Alisia and I declared victory because we feel we looked better doing it. We’re both taller than John after all. (Holla.)
Outside of that I got to drink an Irish Carbomb, which always makes me a little happy. Plus, Alisia and I danced past* the competition time, which was weird. Usually girls I hang out with don’t dance, which means we go to a bar like the Union and…do nothing. We sit and bullshit over pitchers. Lame. But Friday I got to groove.
Saturday was possibly the laziest day I’ve ever had. I mostly watched movies all day and accomplished very little passed learning that Ratatouille is a pretty funny movie and that after all these years So I Married an Ax Murderer holds up (though admittedly the beat poetry scenes are awful, and so is the ending...I like it though. I don't know why). That was it. Wait, there was more: Jiffy Pop popcorn sucks. It sucks bad. How that stuff ever sells is beyond me. It tastes like a baseball covered in butter and dipped in old underwear. Just awful. I cannot recommend it to anyone.
As for today: not much to say. I’ve accomplished very little outside of a shower and having breakfast with friends over at Paul’s.
*Bite me Fihkman.
Friday was actually an extremely good time, for John and I at least. I don’t know what happened for others out that night, but for us the night was filled with – and I’m not lying here – a dance off.
Many people don’t know this about me, but I got moves. I’m not talking extremely good moves, but moves nonetheless. I can somewhat dance…okay, I suck but I let myself go when given a chance and have been known to at the very least provide some people with entertainment. Friday it was Alisia, and John and his friend Jamie.
The thing about John is that he’s a bit cocky, and so am I. Get us together and we could compete on just about any dumbass thing from who can sneak in the best Blues Brothers joke, to who’s got the better ass (me). Friday it was dancing. Coupled up he and I attempted a competition on a floor so cramped up our elbows kept hitting other dancer, but we were not detoured in the slightest (possibly annoying some people). If anything the cramped quarters made the competition better since it attracted attention in a cliché movie way, which I personally feel all dance-offs need.
John thinks he won because he picked Jamie up in some half-assed swing-style maneuver, but Alisia and I declared victory because we feel we looked better doing it. We’re both taller than John after all. (Holla.)
Outside of that I got to drink an Irish Carbomb, which always makes me a little happy. Plus, Alisia and I danced past* the competition time, which was weird. Usually girls I hang out with don’t dance, which means we go to a bar like the Union and…do nothing. We sit and bullshit over pitchers. Lame. But Friday I got to groove.
Saturday was possibly the laziest day I’ve ever had. I mostly watched movies all day and accomplished very little passed learning that Ratatouille is a pretty funny movie and that after all these years So I Married an Ax Murderer holds up (though admittedly the beat poetry scenes are awful, and so is the ending...I like it though. I don't know why). That was it. Wait, there was more: Jiffy Pop popcorn sucks. It sucks bad. How that stuff ever sells is beyond me. It tastes like a baseball covered in butter and dipped in old underwear. Just awful. I cannot recommend it to anyone.
As for today: not much to say. I’ve accomplished very little outside of a shower and having breakfast with friends over at Paul’s.
*Bite me Fihkman.
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