7.31.2005
You can go your own way (go your own waaay!)
Heeeeeyyyyy....guess what I found? Well, nothing....just another website link that's going to lead me into detailing some of my distorted perceptions as a child...sadly, some of these perceptions haven't changed over the years...
When I was wee child, my family and I went of LOTS of road trips...and did LOTS of camping...My dad insisted it was just, plain and simple, more convenient than flying and staying in motels...well, duh! Of course it was! It had nothing to do with his thriftiness...it's all about the convenience of packing up four people and two dogs (it was also a lot more convenient to bring the family pets rather than boarding them...) into a minivan with shoddy air-conditioning and driving 2500 miles...stopping every 15 hours or so to unload the tents, stoves, sleeping bags, lanterns, toilet paper, etc....Ahhhhh, modern convenience!
Huh...well, golly...I'm going camping in New Hampshire tomorrow...ya know, it's just the darndest thing...
Anyway, there's a small point to this story...a lot of my childhood misperceptions have to do with driving, traveling, and deciphering song lyric meanings while listening to my Walkman (I won't even go into this...there are SO many imaginary scenarios in my brain log...my strange obsessions with Fleetwood Mac and Blondie had to come from somewhere)...but, here are a few:
Confusing Road Signs
1. Lights On For Safety: I used to think that this sign was some sort of pep-rally message for all the drivers that were really into safety...I mean, there was a whole song called the Safety Dance, so I figured there was some sort of cult following for safety...Like, "Hey guys! Let's hear it for safety! That's right...S...A....F...E...T...Y....Lights on for safety! Wooooo! Yeah!"
I'd always ask my dad why he wasn't turning his lights on for Safety....he'd just kind of grumble and reply with "I just don't think it's necessary..." This is also the man who holds out to the very last possible nanosecond before switching his windshield wipers from "intermittence" to "high" (I think he believes he's conserving something...)...and has no problem confidently reassuring 10 year-olds that tents will hold up in severe weather...so, when it came down to it, it wasn't hard for me to believe that my dad was NOT on the team rooting for Safety...therefore, I never questioned it.
2. Slow Children At Play: This one's just asking for it...I always thought that if the kids would just pick up the pace a bit, there would be no need for this sign in the first place! Logically, if the children could run out of the way of cars, the cars wouldn't hit them, and, hence, no need for a warning...why don't the adults in town just tell the slow kids this? Do I have to do everything around here?
3. Stop Here At Red (with one of those arrows pointing to the line on the ground): Never made any sense. Those lines were always white...not one of them was ever painted red.
And lastly...completely unrelated to driving....when I was 5 years old (or possibly younger, because this is a very fuzzy memory) I spent a little bit of time visiting my grandparents up here in Massachusetts...during that time, I went to summer camp and slept in the basement....I hated summer camp, as I hated school, as I hated ANY activity that forced me to interact and be judged by other children (I have no idea how I turned out even slightly normal....wait...normal...yes). So, I decided that if I just didn't wake up from sleeping that nobody could make me go to camp...that there was some way to stay in a perpetual dream state and nobody would know it...not even me...and if I could just obtain this state, I would never have to worry about other kids...or camp...because everything would just be a dream.
So, one morning, I woke up after one of those really vivid dreams that felt all-to-real and I couldn't figure out if I was still dreaming or not...I spent the rest of the day in a haze trying to unravel the mysteries of consciousness (ok...not really...I think I probably spent most of that day thinking about Slip n' Slides and ever-fascinating Horseshoe crab)...but, the idea that I was actually dreaming the entire day and that, eventually, I'd wake up, stayed with me...it stayed with me for about 3 days...even through other rounds of sleep...I thought that the sleep was also just another stage of the dream...then, I think I eventually just let it go...a pretty rock caught my attention or something.
This is one of the perceptions that hasn't changed...I think about this a few times a year and the smell of the basement and the mixed feeling of dread and freedom comes back...and then I think that I'm going to wake up soon...and I'll find myself on a cot in my grandparent's basement...I'd be 5 years old, but I'd actually privy to all my life experiences, wisdom, and visions of the future that this intense dream has bestowed on me...
Then I'd rule the world...nothing could intimidate me, because, well, I'd be a five year old with the knowledge of a 26 year old....top that, bitch! I'd also be a indie rockstar...filling up clubs across the world with countless numbers of tight-pant wearing boys and semi-torn shirt clad girls who all drink blue-collar beer in my honor...
Oh. Hi...I think I'm waking up now...just long enough for me to realize that I need to sleep...
When I was wee child, my family and I went of LOTS of road trips...and did LOTS of camping...My dad insisted it was just, plain and simple, more convenient than flying and staying in motels...well, duh! Of course it was! It had nothing to do with his thriftiness...it's all about the convenience of packing up four people and two dogs (it was also a lot more convenient to bring the family pets rather than boarding them...) into a minivan with shoddy air-conditioning and driving 2500 miles...stopping every 15 hours or so to unload the tents, stoves, sleeping bags, lanterns, toilet paper, etc....Ahhhhh, modern convenience!
Huh...well, golly...I'm going camping in New Hampshire tomorrow...ya know, it's just the darndest thing...
Anyway, there's a small point to this story...a lot of my childhood misperceptions have to do with driving, traveling, and deciphering song lyric meanings while listening to my Walkman (I won't even go into this...there are SO many imaginary scenarios in my brain log...my strange obsessions with Fleetwood Mac and Blondie had to come from somewhere)...but, here are a few:
Confusing Road Signs
1. Lights On For Safety: I used to think that this sign was some sort of pep-rally message for all the drivers that were really into safety...I mean, there was a whole song called the Safety Dance, so I figured there was some sort of cult following for safety...Like, "Hey guys! Let's hear it for safety! That's right...S...A....F...E...T...Y....Lights on for safety! Wooooo! Yeah!"
I'd always ask my dad why he wasn't turning his lights on for Safety....he'd just kind of grumble and reply with "I just don't think it's necessary..." This is also the man who holds out to the very last possible nanosecond before switching his windshield wipers from "intermittence" to "high" (I think he believes he's conserving something...)...and has no problem confidently reassuring 10 year-olds that tents will hold up in severe weather...so, when it came down to it, it wasn't hard for me to believe that my dad was NOT on the team rooting for Safety...therefore, I never questioned it.
2. Slow Children At Play: This one's just asking for it...I always thought that if the kids would just pick up the pace a bit, there would be no need for this sign in the first place! Logically, if the children could run out of the way of cars, the cars wouldn't hit them, and, hence, no need for a warning...why don't the adults in town just tell the slow kids this? Do I have to do everything around here?
3. Stop Here At Red (with one of those arrows pointing to the line on the ground): Never made any sense. Those lines were always white...not one of them was ever painted red.
And lastly...completely unrelated to driving....when I was 5 years old (or possibly younger, because this is a very fuzzy memory) I spent a little bit of time visiting my grandparents up here in Massachusetts...during that time, I went to summer camp and slept in the basement....I hated summer camp, as I hated school, as I hated ANY activity that forced me to interact and be judged by other children (I have no idea how I turned out even slightly normal....wait...normal...yes). So, I decided that if I just didn't wake up from sleeping that nobody could make me go to camp...that there was some way to stay in a perpetual dream state and nobody would know it...not even me...and if I could just obtain this state, I would never have to worry about other kids...or camp...because everything would just be a dream.
So, one morning, I woke up after one of those really vivid dreams that felt all-to-real and I couldn't figure out if I was still dreaming or not...I spent the rest of the day in a haze trying to unravel the mysteries of consciousness (ok...not really...I think I probably spent most of that day thinking about Slip n' Slides and ever-fascinating Horseshoe crab)...but, the idea that I was actually dreaming the entire day and that, eventually, I'd wake up, stayed with me...it stayed with me for about 3 days...even through other rounds of sleep...I thought that the sleep was also just another stage of the dream...then, I think I eventually just let it go...a pretty rock caught my attention or something.
This is one of the perceptions that hasn't changed...I think about this a few times a year and the smell of the basement and the mixed feeling of dread and freedom comes back...and then I think that I'm going to wake up soon...and I'll find myself on a cot in my grandparent's basement...I'd be 5 years old, but I'd actually privy to all my life experiences, wisdom, and visions of the future that this intense dream has bestowed on me...
Then I'd rule the world...nothing could intimidate me, because, well, I'd be a five year old with the knowledge of a 26 year old....top that, bitch! I'd also be a indie rockstar...filling up clubs across the world with countless numbers of tight-pant wearing boys and semi-torn shirt clad girls who all drink blue-collar beer in my honor...
Oh. Hi...I think I'm waking up now...just long enough for me to realize that I need to sleep...
USATODAY.com - NASA studies hanging material on Discovery's belly
USATODAY.com - NASA studies hanging material on Discovery's belly
Umm...this may be the beer talking, but this news article made me chuckle...it just sounds so scientific and ticklish all at the same time!
Umm...this may be the beer talking, but this news article made me chuckle...it just sounds so scientific and ticklish all at the same time!
7.29.2005
Walt didn't realize the potential of black-rimmed glasses....
Damn. Adventures...I don't know where to start...
I just returned home yesterday from three and a half days of lots-o-fun...
On Monday morning, I took a bus from New Bedford out to Connecticut to get ready to roadtrip to NYC with my friend the Connecticuteer....although, I like to call her The Connecticuteer, it's a bit long AND she's asked to be referred to as Queen Pontiffa...which is also long and, possibly, confusing...but if she wants to be the fantastical head of a major religion, so be it...
SO...After I spent 3 hours or so at shady bus stations (another story, all together) I finally got to my destination...and, after my arrival, QP and I tooled around the ever-booming college town, surrounded by cows, for a bit...then we drove about an hour out to the waterfalls at the Devil's Somethingorother State Park and did some wading and hiking...and in the evening, I experienced one of the most amazing events of my young life....a double feature at a drive-in theater. Who's idea was it to get rid of these things anyway? I would see movies all the time if it didn't mean going into a dark, sensory-deprivation tank filled with strangers...
Oh...it's true. I watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Bewitched from the opened trunk of an SUV while the the audio played over a low-end radio frequency...and stars...and snacks...and mandarin vodka...pure bliss.
So, while I highly recommend seeing Charlie at just about any theater, I will suggest that you save your money on Bewitched...wait til it comes on Sunday afternoon TBS in about 4 years...then it'd might be worth your time. Ok...actually, I'm being harsh...it had it's funny moments, but in the end, it left you with thinking "Who the hell came up with that plot? And what about that affair that that character had with....oh, fuck it...nevermind."
Then, in the early afternoon on Tuesday, we packed up and headed out on the 3 hour trip to NYC...I had ABBA's "Knowing Me, Knowing You" stuck in my head from the very beginning...I have no fucking idea why. It's not even my favorite ABBA song, for god's sake...It could've at least been "S.O.S."...but, the drive was good...and we ended up in Brooklyn by 5 o'clock...
QP's cousin was nice enough to put us up for a night...in a room with A/C which, as I've learned in the past month, is a commodity on the east coast that only royalty and old people get to enjoy...as for the rest of us, we have to endure the "heat wave" and live with open windows and fans...and, truly, it was hot in this city.
So, on Tuesday evening, I actually managed to get a hold of some of my friends who were visiting NYC all the way from sunny Europe...and folks, if I could only begin to explain how strangely the events of my life have conveniently fallen into place in the past 3 months...I'd be a better story-teller...but really, I never thought I'd be able to make it down to the city to see the Luxembourgers when they were passing through....then....next thing I know, I was on my way to NYC...it's like the cosmos portioned out individual servings of kismet and I was mistakenly graced with the helping meant for the karmic-fat kid...
Anyway...Tuesday....plans were made to meet up for dinner at Planet Thailand (while wandering the next day, I also saw a Planet Sushi...and I was on the look-out for a Planet Mechanically Separated Food Product...but, no such luck...). Dinner was great...we got all the surly service one could expect and I was personally blazed with an awesome glare of disgust from QP while I enjoyed a meal of raw fish...well, some of it was raw, but most was at least somewhat prepared...and it was good, damnit...
After dinner, we embarked on what proved to be an endless quest for the perfect place to hang out...while I was happy at the first bar...where the bartender didn't know how to make a fancy-smanchy Cape Cod, but was quite familiar with a common drink that mixes vodka and cranberry, my other companions thought we should move on to the hipper places in town...I was impartial...no place around has the beer that I want to drink, so I don't care.
We ended up getting into a cab embarking on our quest for the elusive club called "Bembe(i)"...I didn't know anything about Bembi...except for that one of our leaders said it was a "Reggae dance club" and...well, that pretty much sums it up.
Yay. Reggae.
You there!...Enter my world of secrets and mysteries...please...step inside...I'll fill you in on one of the details that make my personality so enigmatic...I fucking HATE reggae music! There's always exceptions....such as, if I were of Caribbean decent...then I may appreciate Reggae music...or if I still enjoyed rollin' and tokin' blunts...then I may dig the hypnotic beats, yo.
And since I don't really fit into any of these categories, I can stick with my persistence to HATE Reggae music...but, this doesn't really matter...because I wanted to hang out with my friends, and I was up for going wherever....
So, we entered the cab...and told the cabbie that we were trying to get to south 6th street...Bembi...the club...you know? No? Well...we'll call information to get an exact address then....what follows is the BEST conversation I've EVER overheard...
Friend (talking to Information): Hi. Ya...I'm looking for... a Bembi...ya...it should be in Brooklyn.
Friend: Ya...south 6th somewhere...it's a club...I just don't have an address....
Friend (as and aside to us in the cab): This is ridiculous...New York information is going to think I'm hunting Disney characters somewhere in Brooklyn....
...and just as this conversation was completed...we were there....a good time was had, Reggae and all...
The next day, I was privileged to receive the best driving tour of Manhattan and Beyond that anyone could possibly ask for....in fact, I'd consider myself a damn good city driver and I don't think I could do the job the the QP was doing...stupid amazing...
So, I'd like to re-cap...let's start with things I DIDN'T see while in New York City....
1. Muppets...in any form...especially, taking Manhattan...
2. Donald Trump
3. Sesame Street characters...this includes, people in "my neighborhood"
4. Billy Joel
5. excessive amount of homeless people
6. Liza
7. Cats. Rent. The West Side...or it's Story...
8. Tough Italians
9. TRL
10. Shysters
...and after all of this...I still have one question...why do all the hipsters from Austin move to New York? It's like the chain of moves goes California-->Austin-->New York. There's people from Austin all over New York! It's as if they didn't even move...
So, as a side note, my pledge to quit smoking after 10 years of lighting up has been brought to a not-so-sudden demise, however intoxicating it may be...the demise, that is...
I can't tell if I'm craving the poisonous chemicals of the cigarettes that I've been fed or if it's something else all together...
Oh...by the way...the sun begins to rise at 5:13 a.m. during the summertime in Buzzard's Bay...that's my cue to sleep now....
I just returned home yesterday from three and a half days of lots-o-fun...
On Monday morning, I took a bus from New Bedford out to Connecticut to get ready to roadtrip to NYC with my friend the Connecticuteer....although, I like to call her The Connecticuteer, it's a bit long AND she's asked to be referred to as Queen Pontiffa...which is also long and, possibly, confusing...but if she wants to be the fantastical head of a major religion, so be it...
SO...After I spent 3 hours or so at shady bus stations (another story, all together) I finally got to my destination...and, after my arrival, QP and I tooled around the ever-booming college town, surrounded by cows, for a bit...then we drove about an hour out to the waterfalls at the Devil's Somethingorother State Park and did some wading and hiking...and in the evening, I experienced one of the most amazing events of my young life....a double feature at a drive-in theater. Who's idea was it to get rid of these things anyway? I would see movies all the time if it didn't mean going into a dark, sensory-deprivation tank filled with strangers...
Oh...it's true. I watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Bewitched from the opened trunk of an SUV while the the audio played over a low-end radio frequency...and stars...and snacks...and mandarin vodka...pure bliss.
So, while I highly recommend seeing Charlie at just about any theater, I will suggest that you save your money on Bewitched...wait til it comes on Sunday afternoon TBS in about 4 years...then it'd might be worth your time. Ok...actually, I'm being harsh...it had it's funny moments, but in the end, it left you with thinking "Who the hell came up with that plot? And what about that affair that that character had with....oh, fuck it...nevermind."
Then, in the early afternoon on Tuesday, we packed up and headed out on the 3 hour trip to NYC...I had ABBA's "Knowing Me, Knowing You" stuck in my head from the very beginning...I have no fucking idea why. It's not even my favorite ABBA song, for god's sake...It could've at least been "S.O.S."...but, the drive was good...and we ended up in Brooklyn by 5 o'clock...
QP's cousin was nice enough to put us up for a night...in a room with A/C which, as I've learned in the past month, is a commodity on the east coast that only royalty and old people get to enjoy...as for the rest of us, we have to endure the "heat wave" and live with open windows and fans...and, truly, it was hot in this city.
So, on Tuesday evening, I actually managed to get a hold of some of my friends who were visiting NYC all the way from sunny Europe...and folks, if I could only begin to explain how strangely the events of my life have conveniently fallen into place in the past 3 months...I'd be a better story-teller...but really, I never thought I'd be able to make it down to the city to see the Luxembourgers when they were passing through....then....next thing I know, I was on my way to NYC...it's like the cosmos portioned out individual servings of kismet and I was mistakenly graced with the helping meant for the karmic-fat kid...
Anyway...Tuesday....plans were made to meet up for dinner at Planet Thailand (while wandering the next day, I also saw a Planet Sushi...and I was on the look-out for a Planet Mechanically Separated Food Product...but, no such luck...). Dinner was great...we got all the surly service one could expect and I was personally blazed with an awesome glare of disgust from QP while I enjoyed a meal of raw fish...well, some of it was raw, but most was at least somewhat prepared...and it was good, damnit...
After dinner, we embarked on what proved to be an endless quest for the perfect place to hang out...while I was happy at the first bar...where the bartender didn't know how to make a fancy-smanchy Cape Cod, but was quite familiar with a common drink that mixes vodka and cranberry, my other companions thought we should move on to the hipper places in town...I was impartial...no place around has the beer that I want to drink, so I don't care.
We ended up getting into a cab embarking on our quest for the elusive club called "Bembe(i)"...I didn't know anything about Bembi...except for that one of our leaders said it was a "Reggae dance club" and...well, that pretty much sums it up.
Yay. Reggae.
You there!...Enter my world of secrets and mysteries...please...step inside...I'll fill you in on one of the details that make my personality so enigmatic...I fucking HATE reggae music! There's always exceptions....such as, if I were of Caribbean decent...then I may appreciate Reggae music...or if I still enjoyed rollin' and tokin' blunts...then I may dig the hypnotic beats, yo.
And since I don't really fit into any of these categories, I can stick with my persistence to HATE Reggae music...but, this doesn't really matter...because I wanted to hang out with my friends, and I was up for going wherever....
So, we entered the cab...and told the cabbie that we were trying to get to south 6th street...Bembi...the club...you know? No? Well...we'll call information to get an exact address then....what follows is the BEST conversation I've EVER overheard...
Friend (talking to Information): Hi. Ya...I'm looking for... a Bembi...ya...it should be in Brooklyn.
Friend: Ya...south 6th somewhere...it's a club...I just don't have an address....
Friend (as and aside to us in the cab): This is ridiculous...New York information is going to think I'm hunting Disney characters somewhere in Brooklyn....
...and just as this conversation was completed...we were there....a good time was had, Reggae and all...
The next day, I was privileged to receive the best driving tour of Manhattan and Beyond that anyone could possibly ask for....in fact, I'd consider myself a damn good city driver and I don't think I could do the job the the QP was doing...stupid amazing...
So, I'd like to re-cap...let's start with things I DIDN'T see while in New York City....
1. Muppets...in any form...especially, taking Manhattan...
2. Donald Trump
3. Sesame Street characters...this includes, people in "my neighborhood"
4. Billy Joel
5. excessive amount of homeless people
6. Liza
7. Cats. Rent. The West Side...or it's Story...
8. Tough Italians
9. TRL
10. Shysters
...and after all of this...I still have one question...why do all the hipsters from Austin move to New York? It's like the chain of moves goes California-->Austin-->New York. There's people from Austin all over New York! It's as if they didn't even move...
So, as a side note, my pledge to quit smoking after 10 years of lighting up has been brought to a not-so-sudden demise, however intoxicating it may be...the demise, that is...
I can't tell if I'm craving the poisonous chemicals of the cigarettes that I've been fed or if it's something else all together...
Oh...by the way...the sun begins to rise at 5:13 a.m. during the summertime in Buzzard's Bay...that's my cue to sleep now....
7.25.2005
How do you say Cher in Quebecois?
So, as I stated in the previous post...I adventured this week. I made a new friend through the connections of our very own commentator, tiny robot. Thanks t.r...
I had two days off of work this week...in a row! That's pretty nice and I hope it keeps up...so, plans were made to take a two day jaunt up the Cape to Provincetown...thanks to new friend....she has a car (ooooh...car ride! I feel like an overjoyed Labrador when anyone mentions a ride in a car...) and also a desire to check out the Queer Mecca of the northeast....
We left town late in the afternoon on Tuesday...it's a 90 mile drive from the town I'm staying in all the way up to the last town on the tip of the Cape...not too bad, even though it was rainy on Tuesday....We decided that camping was the way to go...mostly because a night in a P-town motel is quite costly this time a year, and pretty much out of reach for the likes of under-employed slackers and students. But, camping! I'm good at that...usually.
We got to the campground around 7 p.m....after I was badgered by the office lady over the phone as I tried to reserve a spot,
Lady: "Well, when are you going to get here?" At this point, it's about 5 p.m.
Me: "We should be there by 7:30...we're just getting on the Cape."
Lady: "Why is it going to take you so long if you're just NOW getting on the Cape?"
Me: "Well, we have a few stops to make...but, we'll be there by 7:30."
Lady: "Ok. We'll hold the spot for you...as long as you'll BE HERE by 7:30"
Me: "We will...I'll call you if our plans change, ok?"
Um...yeah. Did I miss the part where this woman morphed into my mother over the phone? I was afraid of being given a curfew when we checked in...
So...we got there...and were privelleged to deal with another, in what will prove to be a series, of P-town characters. This man looked like a part David Cross would play if he were 30 years older....and stuck at a campground in New England...and had all black hair except for his sideburns which were starkly grey....
P-town seemed to be teaming with oddly-dressed foreginers...and the accents suggested mostly Eastern Europeans and, of course, French Canadians.
Most of our time was spent drinking and tent watching...as you can see here in this picture. The chairs were set up strategically to make sure the tent didn't do ANYTHING that we might miss...
The next day was spent at the beach with a bit of seal watching...and naked French Canadians in the beach changing room...
We finished off the trip with a visit to Highland Points lighthouse...
I hate to leave out the descriptive details, but my posts are starting to back up with my adventures soooo...I must move on.
One of these days, I'll catch up
I had two days off of work this week...in a row! That's pretty nice and I hope it keeps up...so, plans were made to take a two day jaunt up the Cape to Provincetown...thanks to new friend....she has a car (ooooh...car ride! I feel like an overjoyed Labrador when anyone mentions a ride in a car...) and also a desire to check out the Queer Mecca of the northeast....
We left town late in the afternoon on Tuesday...it's a 90 mile drive from the town I'm staying in all the way up to the last town on the tip of the Cape...not too bad, even though it was rainy on Tuesday....We decided that camping was the way to go...mostly because a night in a P-town motel is quite costly this time a year, and pretty much out of reach for the likes of under-employed slackers and students. But, camping! I'm good at that...usually.
We got to the campground around 7 p.m....after I was badgered by the office lady over the phone as I tried to reserve a spot,
Lady: "Well, when are you going to get here?" At this point, it's about 5 p.m.
Me: "We should be there by 7:30...we're just getting on the Cape."
Lady: "Why is it going to take you so long if you're just NOW getting on the Cape?"
Me: "Well, we have a few stops to make...but, we'll be there by 7:30."
Lady: "Ok. We'll hold the spot for you...as long as you'll BE HERE by 7:30"
Me: "We will...I'll call you if our plans change, ok?"
Um...yeah. Did I miss the part where this woman morphed into my mother over the phone? I was afraid of being given a curfew when we checked in...
So...we got there...and were privelleged to deal with another, in what will prove to be a series, of P-town characters. This man looked like a part David Cross would play if he were 30 years older....and stuck at a campground in New England...and had all black hair except for his sideburns which were starkly grey....
P-town seemed to be teaming with oddly-dressed foreginers...and the accents suggested mostly Eastern Europeans and, of course, French Canadians.
Most of our time was spent drinking and tent watching...as you can see here in this picture. The chairs were set up strategically to make sure the tent didn't do ANYTHING that we might miss...
The next day was spent at the beach with a bit of seal watching...and naked French Canadians in the beach changing room...
We finished off the trip with a visit to Highland Points lighthouse...
I hate to leave out the descriptive details, but my posts are starting to back up with my adventures soooo...I must move on.
One of these days, I'll catch up
7.22.2005
I like to Listen....and Learn...and occasionally, Do.
So, how's everyone been? Good...good...I've been doing ok myself, thanks for asking! In general, not much has been going on here.
I wake up. I water the flowers...which takes a tedious 30 minutes...I never should have told my aunt that I enjoyed this task...that's what I get for lying. The phone rings once at about 8:30 am...and then again at about 10:45 am...and then again around 12:30 pm...at which time I finally decide that I'll answer it. Then my aunt asks me if I remembered to water the flowers...I say "Yes."...then she tells me a story about how much the flowers enjoy getting water early in the morning. Gee how they love that! Don't you agree? Flowers love that early early morning watering....
I wonder what she's trying to tell me? Hmmm...who knows.
I've already explained to her that I'm usually awake earlier in the morning, it's just that I don't like to answer the phone...or I have my headset on as soon as I leave my bed...so I don't hear the phone.
The rest of my days have been spent out on the front porch with my computer. Then, around 4 o'clock, I go to work.
Work. Four days ago, I thought I could confidently claim that I knew what I was doing. After four shifts, I got a massive (massive in the restaurant world, that is) raise and I felt like I could probably handle things without too many problems. But, when I worked yesterday, I lost all that confidence...nothing has been sent back yet, but I'm also pretty sure I'm not bringing in the repeat customers...I also felt that I could politely listen to my co-workers comments without questioning them about their childhood tendencies of eating lead paint chips...
This brings me to....my two favorite work quotes in the past week.
1. Dishwasher boy: "I don't know how you do that shit."
Me: "What shit?"
DB: "Stand in front of that stove...with all those flames and shit"
Me: "I don't know. I guess it's not that bad."
DB: "Yeah. I used to cook, but all they had for me here was dishes. I don't like the fire anyway. I think it's because when I was 16, I poured a bunch of butane down my throat and lit it on fire. It was pretty cool, but it left my throat pretty nasty."
Me (after a slight pause and a blank look): "Yeah. That doesn't sound like such a good thing...maybe you should stay away from fire."
I'm pretty sure that I've said similar things in my past...and hopefully nobody wrote them down.
2. Apparently, we're all culinary experts at this place...
Ozzy: Ok. When you serve the blackened swordfish, you put some chutney and some of this shit on the plate...(reaching into a bucket of spring mix)...Ugh...this shit is nasty.
Me: Ok. What's nasty? The spring mix? (I figured he was referring to the chutney...that stuff really IS nasty....)
Ozzy: Yeah. Have you ever had this stuff? You know it's made with weeds, right?
Me: No...I didn't know that. What part of it is weeds?
Ozzy: This shit...it's made with those plants you pull out of your garden. You know...the ones with the fuzzy tops and yellow flowers?
Me: Dandelions?
Ozzy: Yeah! That's it! See this leaf here? That's dandelion...it's so gross.
Me: Hmmm...really? I always thought that was arugula. But, maybe...I guess it could be dandelions...
I don't expect everyone to know the ingredients to spring mix...fuck, I don't even really know the greens used in spring mix...but, really....dandelions? Is it garnished with those mushrooms that I find growing under my toilet?
Now I'm really tempted to try dandelion leaves just to see if they have a taste similar to arugula...I bet you could make a killing just by adulterating spring mix bags with garden weeds...think of the mad profits that could be made in the underground produce supply market!
SO...that's pretty much how things have been going. I did make a new friend though...and on Tuesday and Wednesday, we took an adventure up the Cape...but, I think that deserves it's own entry...
I wake up. I water the flowers...which takes a tedious 30 minutes...I never should have told my aunt that I enjoyed this task...that's what I get for lying. The phone rings once at about 8:30 am...and then again at about 10:45 am...and then again around 12:30 pm...at which time I finally decide that I'll answer it. Then my aunt asks me if I remembered to water the flowers...I say "Yes."...then she tells me a story about how much the flowers enjoy getting water early in the morning. Gee how they love that! Don't you agree? Flowers love that early early morning watering....
I wonder what she's trying to tell me? Hmmm...who knows.
I've already explained to her that I'm usually awake earlier in the morning, it's just that I don't like to answer the phone...or I have my headset on as soon as I leave my bed...so I don't hear the phone.
The rest of my days have been spent out on the front porch with my computer. Then, around 4 o'clock, I go to work.
Work. Four days ago, I thought I could confidently claim that I knew what I was doing. After four shifts, I got a massive (massive in the restaurant world, that is) raise and I felt like I could probably handle things without too many problems. But, when I worked yesterday, I lost all that confidence...nothing has been sent back yet, but I'm also pretty sure I'm not bringing in the repeat customers...I also felt that I could politely listen to my co-workers comments without questioning them about their childhood tendencies of eating lead paint chips...
This brings me to....my two favorite work quotes in the past week.
1. Dishwasher boy: "I don't know how you do that shit."
Me: "What shit?"
DB: "Stand in front of that stove...with all those flames and shit"
Me: "I don't know. I guess it's not that bad."
DB: "Yeah. I used to cook, but all they had for me here was dishes. I don't like the fire anyway. I think it's because when I was 16, I poured a bunch of butane down my throat and lit it on fire. It was pretty cool, but it left my throat pretty nasty."
Me (after a slight pause and a blank look): "Yeah. That doesn't sound like such a good thing...maybe you should stay away from fire."
I'm pretty sure that I've said similar things in my past...and hopefully nobody wrote them down.
2. Apparently, we're all culinary experts at this place...
Ozzy: Ok. When you serve the blackened swordfish, you put some chutney and some of this shit on the plate...(reaching into a bucket of spring mix)...Ugh...this shit is nasty.
Me: Ok. What's nasty? The spring mix? (I figured he was referring to the chutney...that stuff really IS nasty....)
Ozzy: Yeah. Have you ever had this stuff? You know it's made with weeds, right?
Me: No...I didn't know that. What part of it is weeds?
Ozzy: This shit...it's made with those plants you pull out of your garden. You know...the ones with the fuzzy tops and yellow flowers?
Me: Dandelions?
Ozzy: Yeah! That's it! See this leaf here? That's dandelion...it's so gross.
Me: Hmmm...really? I always thought that was arugula. But, maybe...I guess it could be dandelions...
I don't expect everyone to know the ingredients to spring mix...fuck, I don't even really know the greens used in spring mix...but, really....dandelions? Is it garnished with those mushrooms that I find growing under my toilet?
Now I'm really tempted to try dandelion leaves just to see if they have a taste similar to arugula...I bet you could make a killing just by adulterating spring mix bags with garden weeds...think of the mad profits that could be made in the underground produce supply market!
SO...that's pretty much how things have been going. I did make a new friend though...and on Tuesday and Wednesday, we took an adventure up the Cape...but, I think that deserves it's own entry...
7.15.2005
Help! I have nothing to give you but this link!
Ok. We all know The Onion is funny....and I don't know if it's my giddy mood today or if the mercury in all the fish that I've been eating has finally soaked into my brain, but I couldn't stop laughing at this Point/Counterpoint.
I think it's gotta be the pictures that do it...plus, my sense of humor is getting more absurd the more time I spend with myself...I really should get out...
I think it's gotta be the pictures that do it...plus, my sense of humor is getting more absurd the more time I spend with myself...I really should get out...
7.14.2005
I'm sitting outside on a nice summer day trying to get a bit of studying done...but, the next door neighbors have what appears to be some sort of farm...a horse...goats....vegetables...you know the like. Included in this mix is a rooster that likes to crow ALL day at, what I've timed to be, 45 second intervals.
If it's not one thing, it's a chicken, damnit. And there goes that blue tractor again! I'm so confused...
Give me ANYTHING...I'll find away to let it distract me.
If it's not one thing, it's a chicken, damnit. And there goes that blue tractor again! I'm so confused...
Give me ANYTHING...I'll find away to let it distract me.
7.11.2005
You'd never catch me doing that in pvblic...
These posts are going to start getting boring. I'm not doing anything, so I don't really have too much to talk about.
No wait...I do.
Someone in this house has a habit of leaving cabinet doors open...I'm starting to feel like I have an obsessive-compulsive disorder because I constantly find myself in the kitchen (to get a grape or something) closing each and every one of these doors left open. It's driving me crazy. Even when I'm sitting in my room, I get a strong desire to get up and go check the kitchen to make sure all the cabinet doors are closed. It's like I'm in the movie The Sixth Sense...every time I turn my back, all of those damn cabinet doors are open again!
Maybe I'm not going crazy...I think I just lack some of my common comfort objects up here. For example: my beer...they don't sell my beer up here. I'm learning to survive, but the adjustment has been hard. I did remember to bring along my life-long stuffed animal companion, so he's helped by consoling me...but if I had to put him and my beer on a platform and decide who would live and who would die...it'd be a tough call. I'd pick him, of course, but only after several hours of consideration.
And that, my friends, are the events of my life.
Although, I did take a bike ride today. One of my aunts was nice enough to lend me a working bicycle for the summer...and it may be the single accessory I need to get around town and also to guarantee myself a high-ranking place in the social circles of Pollyanna and Pippy Longstocking.
Now, I wouldn't really consider myself someone who cares too much about looking "cool", but this bike is straight up queer. I don't think I've ever felt so dainty in my entire life....I mean, if I were a homosexual man, I could declare my intentions with other men to the whole town simply by riding this bicycle...but really...putting these thoughts aside, I went about with my plans to gallivant about town and eventually end up at the Pvblic Library.
This town that I'm staying in is nothing short of beautiful...the trees, the river, the ocean, farms and animals....all so quaint. It was nearly impossible for me to be in a bad mood today...sunshine and happiness abound. Even when I rode past the lady who was tending to the trees in her front lawn, I smiled at her...she just glared at me and I think it was because she forgot to put on pants before leaving the house. It didn't bother me so much...I guess an over-sized t-shirt will do. I hope that someday I can get to a point where I don't give a shit if people see me in my front yard sans pants....life goals!
Moving on, I found my way to town center...passed a little girl selling lemonade on the corner...town hall...the wharf....but, I couldn't seem to locate the library...and the quaintness was starting to make me nauseous. So, I went to the soda shop (yes. the soda shop. yes. they have a soda fountain and it's pretty much all this shop does. no. it's not owned by Disney) and I had myself a raspberry-lime rickey and asked the lady where the library was. She was ever so helpful...even including the information about the library being closed on Mondays!
My trip was made in vain....and, by the way...what's with libraries having randomly bizarre operating hours? Open at 12 on a Tuesday...close at 6. Open at 10 on a Thursday...close at 5. Seriously.
So I rode my spaz-bike home and that was pretty much it for the day....
No wait...I do.
Someone in this house has a habit of leaving cabinet doors open...I'm starting to feel like I have an obsessive-compulsive disorder because I constantly find myself in the kitchen (to get a grape or something) closing each and every one of these doors left open. It's driving me crazy. Even when I'm sitting in my room, I get a strong desire to get up and go check the kitchen to make sure all the cabinet doors are closed. It's like I'm in the movie The Sixth Sense...every time I turn my back, all of those damn cabinet doors are open again!
Maybe I'm not going crazy...I think I just lack some of my common comfort objects up here. For example: my beer...they don't sell my beer up here. I'm learning to survive, but the adjustment has been hard. I did remember to bring along my life-long stuffed animal companion, so he's helped by consoling me...but if I had to put him and my beer on a platform and decide who would live and who would die...it'd be a tough call. I'd pick him, of course, but only after several hours of consideration.
And that, my friends, are the events of my life.
Although, I did take a bike ride today. One of my aunts was nice enough to lend me a working bicycle for the summer...and it may be the single accessory I need to get around town and also to guarantee myself a high-ranking place in the social circles of Pollyanna and Pippy Longstocking.
Now, I wouldn't really consider myself someone who cares too much about looking "cool", but this bike is straight up queer. I don't think I've ever felt so dainty in my entire life....I mean, if I were a homosexual man, I could declare my intentions with other men to the whole town simply by riding this bicycle...but really...putting these thoughts aside, I went about with my plans to gallivant about town and eventually end up at the Pvblic Library.
This town that I'm staying in is nothing short of beautiful...the trees, the river, the ocean, farms and animals....all so quaint. It was nearly impossible for me to be in a bad mood today...sunshine and happiness abound. Even when I rode past the lady who was tending to the trees in her front lawn, I smiled at her...she just glared at me and I think it was because she forgot to put on pants before leaving the house. It didn't bother me so much...I guess an over-sized t-shirt will do. I hope that someday I can get to a point where I don't give a shit if people see me in my front yard sans pants....life goals!
Moving on, I found my way to town center...passed a little girl selling lemonade on the corner...town hall...the wharf....but, I couldn't seem to locate the library...and the quaintness was starting to make me nauseous. So, I went to the soda shop (yes. the soda shop. yes. they have a soda fountain and it's pretty much all this shop does. no. it's not owned by Disney) and I had myself a raspberry-lime rickey and asked the lady where the library was. She was ever so helpful...even including the information about the library being closed on Mondays!
My trip was made in vain....and, by the way...what's with libraries having randomly bizarre operating hours? Open at 12 on a Tuesday...close at 6. Open at 10 on a Thursday...close at 5. Seriously.
So I rode my spaz-bike home and that was pretty much it for the day....
7.10.2005
Let's go down to the water's edge and we can cast away those doubts....
I had my first shift at the restaurant this evening...training anyway. The entire time I had Louis XIV stuck in my head...not a complete song, of course, but just that distinguishing guitar riff and the lyrics, "Hey chocolate girl, well, you're looking like somethin' I want...and your little Asian friend, well, she can come if she wants..."....because I figured I'd better start learning how to objectify women...since I'll be working in a kitchen and all.
It really wasn't half bad...it would be better if I were working my ass off for tips instead of a hourly wage, but I'll take whatever I can get. I'm actually kinda interested in finding out how long it'll take me to learn to work this kind of job. Hopefully I won't have too many profanities screamed at me in the process...and, as of right now, my brain is mush from all the intense concentration I put into learning...stupid learning...and the following is about all I can get out....
So....now I present to you, a combination of my complaints and self-doubts:
1. My feet hurt. 2. I have no idea how they expect me to be a sauté "chef" when I have absolutely NO experience doing this kind of shit...especially not with seafood! 3. I smoked a cigarette and it felt great...and now I feel like a failure. 4. I'm going to kill someone by serving undercooked shellfish.
Oh, and there's plenty more...believe me. But I also want to give a break down of a conversation that I had while training this evening...and this blog entry needs to end sometime...so here it is:
Ozzy* (you really have to read this with the accent in mind...just think of Good Will Hunting and the "whicked smaat" kinda talk): So, here's an order for Drunken Clams...just pour some Guniess on them and cover em' up.
Me: Ok. About how long does it take for them to cook?
Ozzy: Oh, I don't know...a while. Til' they're done.
Me: Ok...how do you know when they're done?
Ozzy: When the shells are opened up...that's when they're done. You've never cooked clams before?
Me: Um, no...I'm not even sure that I've eaten clams like this before.
Ozzy: Really...what nationality are you?
Me: Polish....I guess. Why? Did you see my last name or something?
Ozzy: No...I was just trying to figure out where your accent was from.
So, apparently I'm not only a complete retard for not knowing how to cook clams, but I also sound so bizarre to him that I might not even be from this country. I mean, I know it's pretty obvious from the way I speak that I'm not from around these parts, but I don't even think I have a Texas accent...I come from such a mongreled American culture background that I wouldn't even be able to guess what I sound like...or what I should sound like. But, I'm pretty sure that I sound American...and I'm also pretty sure that there's lot's of people out there that don't know how to cook clams! I guess just not in this town....
He's a nice guy though...I have nothing against him and he did a good job training me. And, I'm going to do my best to get Annie Lennox's "No More 'I love you's'" stuck in my head for tomorrow's shift. That way when the flames from the gas burners engulf the scallops, I'll have a more dramatic mental soundtrack to follow the ACTION! Maybe I'll even sing it out loud...
It really wasn't half bad...it would be better if I were working my ass off for tips instead of a hourly wage, but I'll take whatever I can get. I'm actually kinda interested in finding out how long it'll take me to learn to work this kind of job. Hopefully I won't have too many profanities screamed at me in the process...and, as of right now, my brain is mush from all the intense concentration I put into learning...stupid learning...and the following is about all I can get out....
So....now I present to you, a combination of my complaints and self-doubts:
1. My feet hurt. 2. I have no idea how they expect me to be a sauté "chef" when I have absolutely NO experience doing this kind of shit...especially not with seafood! 3. I smoked a cigarette and it felt great...and now I feel like a failure. 4. I'm going to kill someone by serving undercooked shellfish.
Oh, and there's plenty more...believe me. But I also want to give a break down of a conversation that I had while training this evening...and this blog entry needs to end sometime...so here it is:
Ozzy* (you really have to read this with the accent in mind...just think of Good Will Hunting and the "whicked smaat" kinda talk): So, here's an order for Drunken Clams...just pour some Guniess on them and cover em' up.
Me: Ok. About how long does it take for them to cook?
Ozzy: Oh, I don't know...a while. Til' they're done.
Me: Ok...how do you know when they're done?
Ozzy: When the shells are opened up...that's when they're done. You've never cooked clams before?
Me: Um, no...I'm not even sure that I've eaten clams like this before.
Ozzy: Really...what nationality are you?
Me: Polish....I guess. Why? Did you see my last name or something?
Ozzy: No...I was just trying to figure out where your accent was from.
So, apparently I'm not only a complete retard for not knowing how to cook clams, but I also sound so bizarre to him that I might not even be from this country. I mean, I know it's pretty obvious from the way I speak that I'm not from around these parts, but I don't even think I have a Texas accent...I come from such a mongreled American culture background that I wouldn't even be able to guess what I sound like...or what I should sound like. But, I'm pretty sure that I sound American...and I'm also pretty sure that there's lot's of people out there that don't know how to cook clams! I guess just not in this town....
He's a nice guy though...I have nothing against him and he did a good job training me. And, I'm going to do my best to get Annie Lennox's "No More 'I love you's'" stuck in my head for tomorrow's shift. That way when the flames from the gas burners engulf the scallops, I'll have a more dramatic mental soundtrack to follow the ACTION! Maybe I'll even sing it out loud...
7.08.2005
New is the new old.
So, here I am. On the east coast...and it's cold here. I'm talking 60 degrees in the daytime! I'm from Texas, people. It's July. That's fucking cold...and it won't stop raining. Blah.
I've been here for just about five days now and it feels more like 72 days. I'm not sure why...I'm not having a bad time, it's just that so much newness has been jammed into my brain in a short amount of time.
And I'm not use to newness.
Take yesterday for example. Yesterday, I secured a job at the local "Chowder House" as a line cook. I sat with my boss-to-be at a back table and confidently bullshitted my way into some sort of employment.
Bullshit? Yeah...pretty much. I've never really worked in a restaurant's full-service kitchen...and I don't have any real experience with expediting, fry/line cooking, and full on prep work...But, I know what they are...does that count for something? All I know is that, when needed, I can work fast...and I have a feeling that is going to come in handy, because I have yet to see less than 20 cars at this restaurant at any point in time.
So basically, I start work Saturday afternoon and I'm going to get my ass kicked. I'm preparing myself to take any amount of verbal assault that can be thrown my way..."Look bitch! We need chowda NOW...chowda! Did you hear me? CHOWDA NOW!"
Bring it on.
And there are a number of other new/old things that I'm getting used to...
1. Going by my real name. My full name is STUPID long and I haven't actually been regularly referred to by my REAL first name in...oh I don't know, 10 or more years? Sure, my parents call me by it, but I'm never around them for more than a day or two...it's just weird. But, I guess I'll just get used to it...I mean, it is my name.
2. Eating 3 full meals a day. It's a strange new feeling to be constantly full, and to tell you the truth, I don't really like it. Not that I'm complaining or anything...freeloading isn't exactly the hardest task in the entire world...
3. No cigarettes. For how long, you ask? Exactly one week today...and there hasn't been an hour that's gone by that I haven't thought about sucking on those life-affirming death sticks.
4. And...if I could only BEGIN to describe the gossip that comes out everyone's mouth here...it's really starting to make me self-conscious. I mean, if they're talking about every other person that they know this way, I highly doubt that I'm exempt from the gossip. I've already heard stories about my family would be suitable themes for British comedies...as my aunt says, "Well, you know...fruitcakes run in this family like diarrhea." and my new favorite, "They're about as different as cheese and chalk!" I'll do my best to remember them from day to day.
Overall, it's been kinda nice. I've had some time to think about stuff that I normally procrastinate even THINKING about...usually due to hangovers or just general melancholy or the fact that all my brain power is devoted to thinking about things I can't control or my cats need to be pet...you know how it goes.
So, hopefully I can get something done in the next few months...something that may even be worthwhile and maybe even give my life a kick in the ass. We'll see.
Oh...I've also become obsessed in thinking about the design of this stupid blog...so you may see it morph slowly over time...
I've been here for just about five days now and it feels more like 72 days. I'm not sure why...I'm not having a bad time, it's just that so much newness has been jammed into my brain in a short amount of time.
And I'm not use to newness.
Take yesterday for example. Yesterday, I secured a job at the local "Chowder House" as a line cook. I sat with my boss-to-be at a back table and confidently bullshitted my way into some sort of employment.
Bullshit? Yeah...pretty much. I've never really worked in a restaurant's full-service kitchen...and I don't have any real experience with expediting, fry/line cooking, and full on prep work...But, I know what they are...does that count for something? All I know is that, when needed, I can work fast...and I have a feeling that is going to come in handy, because I have yet to see less than 20 cars at this restaurant at any point in time.
So basically, I start work Saturday afternoon and I'm going to get my ass kicked. I'm preparing myself to take any amount of verbal assault that can be thrown my way..."Look bitch! We need chowda NOW...chowda! Did you hear me? CHOWDA NOW!"
Bring it on.
And there are a number of other new/old things that I'm getting used to...
1. Going by my real name. My full name is STUPID long and I haven't actually been regularly referred to by my REAL first name in...oh I don't know, 10 or more years? Sure, my parents call me by it, but I'm never around them for more than a day or two...it's just weird. But, I guess I'll just get used to it...I mean, it is my name.
2. Eating 3 full meals a day. It's a strange new feeling to be constantly full, and to tell you the truth, I don't really like it. Not that I'm complaining or anything...freeloading isn't exactly the hardest task in the entire world...
3. No cigarettes. For how long, you ask? Exactly one week today...and there hasn't been an hour that's gone by that I haven't thought about sucking on those life-affirming death sticks.
4. And...if I could only BEGIN to describe the gossip that comes out everyone's mouth here...it's really starting to make me self-conscious. I mean, if they're talking about every other person that they know this way, I highly doubt that I'm exempt from the gossip. I've already heard stories about my family would be suitable themes for British comedies...as my aunt says, "Well, you know...fruitcakes run in this family like diarrhea." and my new favorite, "They're about as different as cheese and chalk!" I'll do my best to remember them from day to day.
Overall, it's been kinda nice. I've had some time to think about stuff that I normally procrastinate even THINKING about...usually due to hangovers or just general melancholy or the fact that all my brain power is devoted to thinking about things I can't control or my cats need to be pet...you know how it goes.
So, hopefully I can get something done in the next few months...something that may even be worthwhile and maybe even give my life a kick in the ass. We'll see.
Oh...I've also become obsessed in thinking about the design of this stupid blog...so you may see it morph slowly over time...
7.07.2005
It's finally here.
Well, I guess it hasn't been that long for all of you, but here is my new and, most likely temporary, home.
I'm not really in the mood to talk right now, but feel free to look around...get comfortable...crack open a beer...watch that final episode of Everybody Loves Raymond you TiVOed and been bitting your nails in anticipation for...do it...you deserve it!
I'm not really in the mood to talk right now, but feel free to look around...get comfortable...crack open a beer...watch that final episode of Everybody Loves Raymond you TiVOed and been bitting your nails in anticipation for...do it...you deserve it!
