Sunday, October 31, 2004

Sunday, 10:30 p.m. untitled

Friday night was pretty cool. Zelienople played a good set. They pulled a pretty decent crowd this time and a few people (strangers included!) nodded their head along with the tunes. I hung in the back of the floor with D.H. and R. talking smack and joking around, hands in pockets for most of Zelienople's set because I wasn't sure I wanted to mix the Paxil with booze (and I'm broke); however, about two songs from the end I broke down and bought an Old Style. I ended up having two since Mike offered to buy me another (Zelienople's drummer)...that's right, rock stars buying me beer...I am a Cewebrity (HAHAHAHA--yeah! Right!--HAHAHHAHAH).

Then home.

Saturday the 30th. Happy Halloween. Boo. I semi-planned to go to a party at the bands guitarist's house, but ended up blowing it off to stay home (who am I kidding, I boycott Halloween every year; I do not like Halloween). Watched Monster's, Inc on TV, surfed the net, and basically zoned/moped. I think the Paxil wears off or runs out late in the day, so come around 9:00 p.m. I get emotionally down again. Then again, for all I know, I haven't been on it long enough for it to even work and all this is psycho-somatic (spelling?), tricks of my own mind. In any event Monster's Inc, was cute and funny. I'm glad I watched it.

Meeting tomorrow with my Primary at C4 at 2:00 p.m. Then I'm planning to drop off my new month-to-month lease/Rent at O'Flahirety Builders office. Maybe find out their time table on the destruction of my apartment. See how soon I really need to move. Half of me wants to move now, the other half would love to forego the need to move until spring. We shall see.

Co-worker today, asked if I wanted to move into his place. Turns out he is getting a divorce. Nice guy, but:
  • I don't want to live in Evanston.
  • I don't really want a roommate.
  • I am not a great roommate.
  • His apartment is weirdly shaped and the bedroom is small.
  • If I move out of Chicago, I don't think I'd qualify for the C4 program.

On the other hand, it would only be $450 a month and close drive to work. Still.....

At least tomorrow one Monday Night Football, I'll get to watch The New York Jets play. I rarely ever get to watch them play. Yay!

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Don't forget your Friday plans!

You know, you're going to The Empty Bottle to see Zelienople at their Record Release Party! Check them out.

(Optional, but appreciated actions: dancing to their set, buying them a beer, or purchasing one of their two albums.)

Only Highlight of the Day

Co-worker telling about some friend of her that goes to University of Georgia. His name is Jim. Jim is kind of a hippie. Last year, Jim decided to grow out his beard really long. His new nickname: Osama Jim Laden.

Ha ha ha, a Redneck Terrorist.

"Nobody told me there'd be days like these,"

but we've all had them.
Greg the Boyfriend: ramblings again.

A sweet read.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

I (heart) punk chicks

I don't really follow the runways or what the kids are wearing these days, but: Thank God for this fashion (back to the) future! Get all these fucking pink and orange shirts off, retch! (I need to get a job outside of the North Shore).

Growing up in a smallish town, there weren't too many of the black-clad youths running around. A few, but mostly cool skater boys, and only a couple of grrrls (but this was pre-grrrl era). Ah, but there were two cuties: Jennifer P. and Jenni F. Mostly, though, I had to live out my Punk Rock Girlfriend fantasies through Sid and Nancy and The Slaves of New York-type novels.

Um, oh, I guess I still live them out that way, you know, being slightly agoraphobic and all.

I want to eat them up like french vanilla ice cream

They're sweet, smart, hott, and in the Voice: The Gilmore Girls. I can't believe five years have gone by and they haven't fallen in love with me. One of the best shows on TV in a long time, since Felicity.

(So I like some chick shows, off me! Shut up!)

The Village Voice: Machine Age: TV: The Sunshine Girls by Joy Press

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Looking for a "release" this weekend?

Go see these nice guys at this cool place.

It's their Record Release party!

I got drugs!

That's right, ladies and gentleman, The ol' Three Sided Cube got a handful of drugs today. Whoo-hoo. What? Oh, I'm sorry, not fun drugs you want me to share with you. I got a little Paxil and a little Clonazepam.

I went to C4 this morning and met with the Psychiatrist, who seems pretty cool. The meeting was only supposed to be 30 minutes long (damn fund cutting!), but I think ours went for like an hour or so. I think the fellow-nutter scheduled behind me did show or something. I'm glad because 30 minutes is WAY too short of a time for an initial meeting with a Dr. in order to figure out how far gone one is and what type/amount of medication to start off on. But, hey, when I'm suckling off the teat of a free-ish clinic, I ain't complaining.

"Luckily" my condition is actually a touch, smidgen, dollop of a few different things (depression, agoraphobia, social phobia, general anxiety disorder, panic attacks) rather than one big pile of mental crappola; she thought maybe the treatment of the Depression and Anxiety would clear up a lot of the other problems.

That is, if I understand all this correctly.

One thing that sucks is the scheduling nightmare this is turning into. My work schedule is random, and the C4 Crew is only on a couple of days each. So, I have to a) hope work schedule coordinates naturally or b) hope to catch the new Assistant Store Manager in a good and giving mood to work some scheduling compromise because I'd rather rather they continue to think I am weird, not mental and seeking help. (okay, not sure where I am going with this paragraph, so we'll move on)

The other thing that has potential Suckage: the side effects. This medication, the stuff that is supposed to help with my anxiety, stomach sickness, panic attacks etc. can cause anxiety, stomach sickness, sweats, dizzyness, yawning and about thirty other unpleasantries. Like rubbing sand on your arm to get off the dirt (okay, not the best analogy, I told you my writing skills either have rigor mortise or have decomposed entirely).

I foresee much Pepto Bismol in my future. Isn't Pink the current Black anyway; my stomach shall be in fashion, I'll just need to swallow a Neighborhoodie and an 80's heavy metal T-shirt= total hipness.

I've been home about three hours now, and I haven't taken anything. For some unknown reason, I am hesitant/nervous about starting down this "road to recovery." Maybe for one thing, the Dr. so was so adamant about telling me NO BEER with meds. This bothers me only for the fact that I got a 30 pack for cheap on clearance at Jewel last night, and I hate to waste.

Gotta call momma, then get ready for work. Later.

The next step to recovery

(Sometimes I wish I had a definite number of steps, like 12 or something).

Tomorrow morning I meet a shrink to discuss what (if any) medications my benefit me. I kind of look forward to this. Maybe a little pill will eventually snap me out of this unending sadness and hopelessness. I think the "upswing" I've been on is starting to falter. I keep (again) having these bleak thoughts, I seriously can't see an end to this confusion, depression, and current bad situation. Everything spins and circles around each other and I can't seem to focus enough to fix one.

I wonder should I tell the Dr. I think my primary counselor is attractive? Is this really going to be a problem?

Then off to work for the night shift. Got to remember to tape Gilmore Girls!

Ugg, off to bed.

The Mantra is a lie (but you knew that)

So, as any of you who work in Retail Hell know, the mantra drummed into your head (your Being, your soul) is "the customer is always right." I have noticed many times in the past (phhft! most times) that when the manager du jour refers to this, myself and my fellow associates usually either laugh or begin protesting in earnest, depending on the context/situation. Because as we know, my service comrades, the customer is not always right; sometimes they are not only wrong, but downright absurd ("you're right, lady, that seven year old hand-blown glass should have survived a five foot fall; therefore, we'll replace it for free immediately").

On the way to work today, I realized the mantra's meaning can be construed as insulting to associates. It implies that the customer is always right, and the associate is always wrong. Thanks, oh ruling management, thanks. You really stroke my bruised and bloody self-esteem.

To add further "dignity" to my life I spent fifteen minutes today at work using masking tape to gather red lint off a black comforter today. And it was my idea to do it.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

You're so vain. I bet you think this post is about you.

Successful Google Vanity Search!

Someone linked to a few of my posts (at least, their Bot did). But whatevers cool. Here's the link to my listing. The site seems pretty cool, I'll give a good perusing later. I realize I only got picked up because those posts included links to Amazon book pages, but still kind of a thrill to get picked up.

Oh meoooow, Lilly is working up into an amazing fit of the Night Frenzies. It is time for bed.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

Still looking for the end after all these years

I still like The Cure. Maybe I'm still full of teen angst, or high school sorrow, or college artsy yearning, or, like, whatever. Here is a link (via Realplayer) to their latest video Alt.end; a creepy, dreamy, surreal little thing. Just the way I like it.

Woody, Round Table (Or, The Round Table and a Woody)

The New York Times > Books > Sunday Book Review > Woody Allen: I Appreciate George S. Kaufman.

Just a link to an fun article by Woody Allen talking about his early influence by George Kaufman, a member of The Algonquin Round Table.

(Hi, Dorothy!)

Friday, October 22, 2004

(Ignore this Post)

For it has nothing to do with Britney Spears licking Cheerios off the bare breasts of Salma Hayek naked while drinking sexy pints of Guinness. For this post won't make you sit erect thinking about the potential risks of a four hour boner after O-D-ing on Viagra or Rogaine (thicker pubes? Stiffer Afro?).

Nay, fair and just reader. This post is a note for myself.


My first Google search hit

I am (sadly) excited. Early this morning, while I slept, not one, but TWO people clicked into my little niche of The Web via their Google search. The keywords (for both): "Lunar Park" and "Ellis."

My first appearance in Google, as far as I know. Oh no. Does this mean I just shot-the-wad and used up my entire "15 minutes of fame"?

In any event, it's nice to know others are searching for information about Mr. Bret Easton Ellis' upcoming possible autobigraphical/fiction novel. If the rumors turn true, it should prove a fun read (as usual).

If life situation doesn't come about, I'm already planning on skipping a couple of meals to buy it the week it's released.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

The end (apparently) is nigh

My neighbor left a voicemail informing me that the building has indeed been sold. The new owners are O'Flaughrty (spelling sooo wrong) something O'Other. And that they are "writing up the letters." The future is dark for this building and the apartment house to the west of it. The owners are, of course, planning on razing both lots and rebuild. Gee, maybe condos? Because, you know, Chicago could sure use more condos! They go well with the other five that are going/have gone up in the few blocks between me and Western Ave. alone, much less the rest of Andersonville area.

Man, I hate not having money. And floundering, flopping in worthless, meaningless jobs. I need to pull it together, man. I'm 33: This drama should've been figured out and resolved--what?-- seven or eight years ago? In some respects, I am better of now compared to then; but the majority of my current life situation seems comparable to someone way younger than me. I seem to have missed or not yet hit some important milestones. I focus too heavily on the failing aspects of my life, true, but not too much is moving along in the positive.

Hell, I can't even focus and bear down to write a coherent and interesting Blog post. Just more shotgun splatter thoughts.

In summary: I am broke, unsatisfied with my job, mentally unstable, filled with regret, probably suffering from some form of arrested development, hate on condos because I'll never afford one, am lonely yet alienate myself from friends, am horny, and am disgusted with how far my writing skills have decomposed.

Any questions?

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Okay, we'll just put this here for now

Keeping my eye on the Prize Posted by Hello

[Ed. Note--oops, this pic was supposed to be edited into here.]

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

Just to let you know

You are Rare and Beautiful like a Rainbow at Night.

Monday's accomplishments:

My eyelids are drooping heavily as I type (delete-mistype-delete-retype) this post. Long day, but no too bad of a day. Feels good when planned events unfold just as planned for the most part.

I didn't make my 7:00 a.m. wake up call. The snooze button seduced me twenty times or so, begged me to spank it over and over again until around 10:00. Woke up with a headache, but struggled out of bed, pet Lilly a bit, and reheated the coffee that brewing then stewing since 7:25 a.m. (mmm. tasty Chock Full o' Nuts--New York Classic, SOHO Morning Blend*).

But I did check out The Reader for apartments and made a list. Then realized it was Monday, and they upload on Tuesdays. Doh!

Trash still towering in can. Leaning, leaning, leaning.

Blew through my daily blogs ("give us, this day, our daily blog. Forgive their not posting as they forgive us for our not posting...").

And made it to C4 way the hell early. I spent the next twenty minutes or so reading the latest Details magazine and listening to one guy snore LOUDLY and another guy just breath HEAVY. What is up with that? A large proportion of the men there breath loud and heavily, real phlegmy stuff, wheezy. Side effects? 3 pack-a-day smokers? My lungs are quiet as a church mouse in comparison.

My turn finally came. And I met my Primary counselor, J.F. And the worst thing happened: she's kind of HOT. Well tanned or olive skinned, brunette hair she plays with, my height, full lips. Great!*enthusiasm* and Great! *sarcasm* I get ultra-shy and nervous in the outside world much less when attempting to unload fears or speak about personal things. Being surprised by the prettiness of this Grad Student on top of the Fear-of-the-Unknown of starting counseling plus not knowing what I am supposed to say or do resulted in a rather disjointed, erratic, shotgunlike splatter talk from me. I couldn't stay focused on what I was saying. I'm supposed to lead this meeting and ended up at one point asking her to "please ask a question" because I kept ending up babbling and repeating myself, or exaggerating (then apologizing for exaggerating), or completely losing my train of thought and fading out.

I definitely need time to get a handle on this. Or switch Primaries and ask her out ha ha ha.

So I leave there and head up to Evanston, and I apply for that part time job. The same guy worked the Reader's Services Desk who was there last time I applied for a job (um, never got called, Screwheads!). He didn't recognize me.

Then on to McDonald's. Yay, I ate a meal before a nightshift, woo-hoo! Let's hear it for a non-anorexic day!

And work: the more fun group of ladies worked tonight. Barely any customers= no cash. Boo.

Then home where I turned on, but ignored the Tampa Bay/St. Louis Monday Night Football game. And: no beer, just tea.

[*Ed. note--that's right, put New York on about anything, and I'll be inclined to like it or try it or want to like it. (I knew I should have taken a right at Cleveland, not that left. Damn)]

Eurotrash Caught on Video!

Anal is the new Black?

Not for Eurotrash. Her "Bugger me" reading at WYSIWYG.

Hee hee...bums.

Yeah, yeah, it's from May, butt I just found it.

Monday, October 18, 2004

What I'm (slowly) reading update.

I used to cruise through books. I loved to read as a kid, losing myself in some cool adventure from a wide range of genres: The Hobbit, The Hardy Boys, etc. I mean I still do, but never seem to find the time or concentration. Plus, I've noticed over the past few years, I don't retain my reading too well. In through the eyes and out my ass, apparently. No sticking around. I often wonder if this is due to my increasing hermit-ization. And the fact that it is near impossible to finish any sort of conversation in retail. You have to speak in 45 second blurts before the next customer pops up. After work, you suggest? I don't really hang with friends very well, much less co-workers. In any event, I think those two factors and depression and anxiety have eaten away at my retention ability. Or maybe I'm full of crap.

Anyway, even if it's one of my magazines (The New Yorker, New York, Details, or Andy Warhol's Interview Magazine), it takes me along time to read a book. But here is the latest one:Shopping in Space: Essays on America's Blank Generation Fiction by Elizabeth Young and Graham Caveney. I'm about three chapters in, and that's taken me about a month, no lie.

So far, it's a fun and informative in-depth look at Bret Easton Ellis' Less Than Zero. Check it out if you like 80's "brat pack" writers. I'd go into it more, but I'm sleepy and wouldn't do the book the justice it deserves.

Sunday, October 17, 2004

Maybe I'll get out of the Bell Jar yet

So, tomorrow might be a busy day (for me, that is; normal people would find this working this schedule, well, normal).
  1. I'm shooting for a 7:30 a.m. wake up (to try get into and maintain the habit).
  2. Enjoy a cup of coffee.
  3. Take out the trash (before it starts spilling over this time).
  4. Scan my favorite Blogs (I live life through them!).
  5. Look for and make some sort of lists of currently available apartments that look "promising" for my price range.
  6. Actually eat a real lunch.
  7. Go C4 for my first meeting with a psych intern for evaluation. I'm a little nervous about this one. I have to come in with goals and "lead the meeting." Not only am I not 100% about what this means, but I don't really like "leading" much of any type of meetings. One of the reasons I'm a part time associate now. I guess just sitting down and saying, "make me normal and stop being sad all the time" doesn't qualify as leading the meeting. Maybe leading off discussion, but not really a clear-cut itinerary. Cripes, I'm a little worried about showing up unprepared and getting "fired" from this program. Will it never end?!?!?
  8. Okay, then. After the meeting, I would like to apply for a part time gig at the Evanston Public Library. What's that you ask? Didn't I do that yesterday? Nah, of course not because I'm an idiot. Somehow I rationalized not leaving the apartment (again) and did laundry instead. Idiot! (but with clean, new sheets on the bed...mmmm *snuggle*).
  9. Then, drive to work area, where I'll grab a bite at McDonald's (so cheap! so yummy! So healt--what a minute) before sludging into work at 5:00 p.m.
  10. Home to catch the last bit of Monday Night Football and a Guinness (But I'll probably fall asleep on my too-short loveseat halfway through the pint).

Let's see what we, in fact, accomplish tomorrow, shall we?

Oh, yeah, the Boss handed me an envelope on Friday on her way out. Full of dread, I opened it. Dated October 14, it merely informed me that some mucky-muck in Corporate received my Request for Transfer Form and Resume, that it was passed to the direct hiring mucky-muck of the Mailroom, and they would be in contact with me (me=schmucky-schmuck). I gave the Boss my application on September 26. Did it really take this long for them to get it? Did the beeyatch delay sending it in? Furthermore, Boss"lady" never mentioned or showed me what her "recommendation" said. She write one? She said she planned on writing one, but when 7/8 of everything she says is a lie...*sigh* this doesn't look good.

Errrrrr, okay, fingers crossed. It's all good, right? (<-----my attempt at optimism).


(Ed note--we find it funny that Blogger's Spell Check device doesn't recognize the word, or variations of the word, "Blog").

Saturday, October 16, 2004

I (freaking) Heart New York!

The Big Apple

Historical trivia and places and phrases about my favorite city.

Informative and fun, fahgeddaboudit!

Good stinky morning (noon) again

Ever since the Sun Rises Cafe moved into Taste Of Heaven's former location, my apartment often reeks of Asian food. I think when they first moved in, they only doled out sushi or cold food, but then, about a month ago, they started cooking stuff. Our spaces are connected by the basement/laundry room and the smell must filter through there. Or seep through the very walls or floor. Don't get me wrong, I like Asian food, just not morning, noon, and evening in my own place of Sanctuary.

I haven't eaten there yet as I am broke and my neighbor told me they were "a bit pricey."

Wish me luck (please), I am going to apply (again) for a part-time position here! I'd love to work in a library. My application/resume has been floating around (rotting) in the files of Skokie Public Library, Lincolnwood Public Library, Evanston Public Library and the Chicago Public Library for years. Checking their sites is a near daily habit. Damnit, people! Hire me already and put me out of my misery. I like people, media, and keeping shit in order! I'm a calm, calming, fun person to work with--AAAAAARRRGH.

Okay, all cool now. Ranting/minor freak-out temporarily suspended. Here's my inspiration for wanting to be a Librarian (tee hee). Seriously, if you can hook me up, please let me know (envision me on knees, hands held together, pleading).

Time to Re-tweak the old Resume.

Random, spontaneous numbered list of things I like (random, incomplete)

  1. Alone time.
  2. Sex Pistols.
  3. Wearing sweaters.
  4. Sleeping late in a cool room under warm sheets.
  5. Staring into the fire.
  6. A pint of Guinness.
  7. The third kiss.
  8. Compact cars.
  9. My Chuck Taylors.
  10. Lilly (when she's not screaming at me).
  11. My parents (still married, yay! A rarity today)
  12. Gilmore Girls.
  13. Felicity.
  14. Friends (and Friends).
  15. Pearl Jam.
  16. Soundgarden.
  17. Sinead O'Connor.
  18. Ani DiFranco.
  19. The Dead Kennedys.
  20. The White Stripes.
  21. The Walkmen.
  22. The Rapture.
  23. Monster Magnet.
  24. A clean windshield.
  25. French Vanilla yogurt and ice cream.
  26. Mountain Dew and Coke.
  27. Little Debbie's Oatmeal Cream Pies.
  28. Big screen TVs.
  29. Orange and Tomato juice (separately).
  30. FEAR.
  31. Bret Easton Ellis novels.
  32. Donna Tartt novels.
  33. New York City.
  34. Days off.
  35. Pay Days.
  36. Coffee all ready in the morning (God bless the timer).
  37. No traffic.
  38. Making someone else and yourself laugh at the same time.
  39. Laughing so hard nothing comes out.
  40. Saying "awesome" in the most ironic way.
  41. When my plants don't die.
  42. Lilly's Ray Charles impersonation with a string in her mouth.
  43. Flirting and being flirted with.
  44. Wearing wool socks on a cold night, on the couch, reading.
  45. Beck's.
  46. Paying the bills early.
  47. Microwave popcorn.
  48. Coupling.
  49. Coping.
  50. Cuddling.
  51. Chilling.
  52. Playstation2 football games.
  53. Observation deck of the Empire State Building.
  54. The Spring Lounge.
  55. The New Yorker.
  56. Andy Warhol's Interview Magazine.
  57. Latina Porn.
  58. Scarves.
  59. Cheap frozen pizza.
  60. Looooooong warm showers (solo or with a partner!).
  61. A good sexy cologne.
  62. The natural good looks of a woman.
  63. The ol' WWW.
  64. People watching.
  65. Ohio University/Athens, Ohio.
  66. Making a sale over $500.
  67. Bright, sunny days around 77 degrees with just a hint of a breeze.
  68. Tina Fey
  69. Seeing a great band live and losing myself in the moment.
  70. reconnecting with my former self (if only but for a minute).
  71. A tasty ham or roast beef sandwich.
  72. Browsing for hours in a book or record store.

Friday, October 15, 2004

Wish I was Pluperfect

Voice Literary Supplement: Eyes Wide Shut (Village Voice)

This book, Hip: The History sounds like a fun read. Probably be one of the next books I pick up when I eventually get to the point affording stuff like rent, food, gasoline, etc. Ah, Poverty, how you keep me down and illiterate. Any Hot Sugar Mommas wanna take care of me before my mind turns to zombie poo? No?

Okay, actually getting ready for work now. The night shift on a Friday night. Slow, slow, slow and full of needy, whiny Chicago North Shore eccentrics.

Good times. Good times.

I fully back this new trend, if it really is the new trend.

New York Post Online Edition: business.
I am so sick of reality TV. I used to watch Fear Factor, but then it suddenly jumped the shark. Or maybe I just got bored with it. I mean, how many times can watching pretty people jump for pennants and gag/dry heave while eating goat balls or squid puke or fresh skunk asshole soup.

I watched The Apprentice season one. It was entertaining, and cool that Bill was a Chicagoan. But season two so did not catch my attention. Trumpy is so arrogant, and enough with the "this is the best, these are the biggest, the world finest" speeches; they are worn-out and only make me think you are a sad and lonely individual. Rich as a muthafucka, but sad; it just get old listening to him after a (short) while.

Big Brother I watched because the people were at least likeable for the most part. I guess I just don't like the Suits and Yuppies that seem to populate the first two mentioned shows. The games on Big Brother are funny (Let's make a giant margarita!) and you get to know the people as people a bit better. I like the winner Drew, he seemed cool (actually, he reminded me ALOT of my cousin C.A. who also went to Miami University of Ohio--Booooo! Go Bobcats!). And the fact the ladies wear bikini tops and shorty-shorts often totally helps out (Diana--Hottness!).

Yeah. Give me C.S.I.: New York or Lost anyday. I like the darkness and cold colors used in the New York series. Kicks Las Vegas and Miami anyday (David Caruso: please, either leave your sunglasses on or off! Sheesh, irritating!).

Aiiight, enough ranting about something so inconsequential in life. I gotta get ready for work *sigh.*

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Love and Cheeseburgers

Though only about 52% sure, I think one of the servers at the McDonald's I eat at nearly every day (a meal for under $4! Yay!) has a crush on me; or, maybe she gets a little giggly and smiles with her eyes to all the customers.

Either way, it's usually one of the only highlights of my day at work.

Clever idea

take a peek:
Here's how to catch those jackasses decapitating people in Iraq

(and keep your ass off Death Row, yo!)

A brief list of the mornings Ups and Downs

This emotional roller coaster took place roughly between the hours of 9:00 and 10:30 a.m. Buckle up for safety!
  1. 9:00. Wake up, look to alarm, realize I have twenty minutes to get ready for work. Panic=down.
  2. Lilly is really loud and REALLY wants attention this morning. "Got no time, baby."=down.
  3. As I sit to make the turn onto Lincoln Ave. from Foster, I see a CTA bus driver waiting at the stop across the street. Dancing. Dancing well. Like to Scat/jazz or something on his Ipod. And snapping his fingers. Smile=up.
  4. Remember dream last night which starred my last two girl friends. The overwhelming feeling recalled is regret and yearning. Dreams that leave crummy feeling residue=bad. Dreams with ex-girlfriends that keep all their clothes on= double down.
  5. Hit stretch of Lincoln Ave. that is lined with trees. Notice leaves are changing. Pretty colors=up.
  6. Remember that fall is my favorite season (and spring). Love the crisp smell, cool temps (sweaters!). Fall=up.
  7. Changing of seasons always brings nostalgic feelings and memories of school. Missing school (still? wtf?!?)= down.
  8. Get to work two minutes early= up.
  9. Both the Store Manager and Assistant Store Manager are at corporate meetings= Double Ups!
  10. J.S.'s hair is down with snug pants= up.
  11. Find out J.S. has a boyfriend= down.
  12. But they broke up last week= hmmm. up and down.
  13. I have to work in the slowest department= even.
  14. First customer of the day's breath smells like rotting salami= down.

Okay, the ride is over, please exit the car on your right. Make sure all your belongings are on you.

[Ed note-if this had been an actual amusement park ride, your money would have been refunded. Sorry.]

Monday, October 11, 2004

I found my old editor!

While at Ohio University, I worked for the Post's entertainment section. The paper's Editor-in-Chief (Derrick?) dated one of the other editors (red hair?). Red-head and Andy were co-editors for the entertainment section.

Everything moved along peachey. I wrote album reviews (No Doubt, Ziggy Marley and the Wailers, Blues Traveler), local club previews (first ever comedy night at the Nickelodeon) and band interviews (Stuart Hall?, bassist for Shudder to Think). Until. One late night, while editing copy Andy and Red-head screamingly disagreed over something. End result being Derrick fired Andy, or maybe he just treated him like a dick until he quit. I don't remember exactly.

So, Andy started his own independent tabloid size newspaper: InsideOut Magazine (now defunct as far as I can tell). And asked me to join him as a writer, then editor, then I got demoted for my lack of management skills (holy premonition, Batman!!!). Covered regional bands, music scene, art happenings, human interest features, my personal narratives, etc. I think we distrubuted to more than a few colleges/coffeehouses around the state. Pretty good start-up magazine, looking back: "edgy" writing, graphics similar to Raygun Magazine, and excellent keg parties.

I Googled him and found this old interview. I liked him and he impressed me with his knowledge, ambition, confidence and deadly wit. Big jovial laugh. Happy to see he's doing something cool, I knew he would. Enjoy:

Critic Doctor (Herb Kane) interviews Anderson Jones, a columnist and critic from E! Online

Like I don't spend enough time online

ManiaTV! - Live Internet Television

It's like AtomFilms and MTV2 all mixed up and stuff. Good streaming quality, too. None of that rebuffer, skippy sound, blocky visual like other streaming media.

That's right, punks, I don't have cable. I am a slave to the Networks. The only music videos I view are what get played at un-godly hours on the shared Channel 28. Korean, Polish, Chinese, Spanish, Bollywood, and MTV2. Channel 28 is an ethnic stew. It's cool, some of those Korean game shows crack me up!

T-minus 9 hours

Okay, (again) I must get to bed. Now. Dammit.

In roughly nine hours, I am meeting a Doc for my first C4 meetings with possible drug prescribing going on. The ol'' nerves haven't kicked in as of yet. Typically, my nervous body sets in right about the time I need to leave the apartment. So I predict panic attack around 9:00 a.m. today.


The strange thing is: except for Thursday, I have been in a relatively "good" mood. Almost normal. Making jokes with co-workers, goofing around, chatting up customers in a overall cheerful way, etc. Of course, I didn't respond to any of my friends email or phone calls, look for an apartment, look for a job, or otherwise leave the apartment either, so maybe we'll call this a wash.

In any event, let's hope the doc shows up, so don't have a repeat of the last appointment.

Bloody Hell, this blog even bores me!


Saturday, October 09, 2004

You may not give me the time of day,

but I've got the time of day for you!

Dadgumit! Another slept through, wasted day.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Next it'll throw ironic keg parties, host blog readings, and not return my calls after sex

Okay. I. Know.

My writing has gone flat and empty. A rubbery balloon with only a whisper of air left in it *poof*. But, really, I am working on it. Getting those old muscles warmed up, stretched and back in shape. That is one of the main reasons My Cube Has Three Sides came into existence: to return to the writing I used to love. The act of writing, the results, the effects (chicks, man, chicks dig writers*) of writing. That little ego boost when someone not only reads your piece, but actually comes around and tells you they liked your piece (um, I mean article).

I realize it's going to be a long, long road ahead to even get back to where I started; therefore, this feels like a slap in the face! It's similar to the phrase "a monkey could do this job" (I've always hated that line--fuck you, then hire one!). Not only telling me a robot/monkey could write a Blog better than me, but going on ahead and proving it. Ouch :-)

It's pretty funny, though, reads like a snarky teenager. It should prove interesting to pop in every few weeks or so to see how well it's Learning. (link found on Cewebrity)

Okay, off to bed. Working the day shift tomorrow, then drinks after to celebrate a co-worker's (E.M.) promotion to Design Helper/Trainee/Indentured Servant and transfer to another store. I not a big fan of this co-worker (she's a bit bossy and moody, a deadly combination), but could use a couple of drinky-poos after all this shit that's been going down the past few months. We meeting at Champ's (whoo-hoo, suburban mall resturant/bar where the waiters are like used-car salesman: "are you sure you don't want to upgrade to the cheesy fries for a mere $1.50 extra?!?!?). Oh, I'm sorry Champps (two "p"s. WTF?. Lame-os).

Aiight, goodnight.

[*Ed note--I think only one, maybe two chicks dug D.M. "back in the day" of his writing period.]

Thursday, October 07, 2004

"Can't you hear me?" I'm typing on the board!

Wasted another day at Crap&Blahblah. Luckily, F spent the whole day downstairs in her office. Only had to physically be in presence for about three seconds when I handed in some poor fool's application; if they only knew. That occurred around 4:00-ish, only had two hours left, and felt relatively better at that point.

Unluckily: I felt fine going into work and the first half hour or so, and then suddenly !bam! Panic attack/anxiety attack. Hot sweaty palms, sweaty legs, tight-tight chest, short breathes only, need to lay down in fetal position, urge to release bowels, foggy thinking with A.D.D., and the yearning to rush out the front door and never return.

I think this went on for about two hours, maybe more. There weren't too many customers today at all, so I didn't have to deal with that madness: keeping it together is hard enough without the added test of smiling and "going out of your way" to help some Rich-helpless-needy North Shore-ian. It took me forever to go through the Receiver (list of shit that came on the truck today), especially, since my demotion, this isn't my freaking job anymore! But, because I like the manager (S.R.) of the department I covered today, I did this job willingly (and I needed the distraction from previously mentioned Panic Attack) and even put out missing merchandise (Popcorn!) and stocked some selves (Canisters!) and barrels that were low (Frothers!). Finally, it ended enough (just a slight roiling of the guts) that I could make conversation and/or chat up the customers.

I even tried a small attempt to flirt with J.S., who looked pretty today. She wore her hair almost all the way out, instead of tied back like usual. If therapy works (if it ever freaking starts), I may ask J.S. out for a drink or something. If/when this happens, and if she says yes, this will be the first date in a VERY long time. I have been too fucked up to get fucked. (And that's fucked up in the un-fun mental way, not the fun way.) And I'm not even saying I think it'd come to that (sex), just that I've been too out of my head to even think about starting any type of relationship. And I don't even know to just what extent I like J.S. I mean she's cool at work in the sense that we share some of the same attitudes, she's seems real not a"phony." She's Italian, got the Roman nose, longish blondish hair (that I like when she wears it out, especially when she straightens it), an easy laugh, deepish voice, a kickin' bod, and reminds me (looks-wise) of my friend L.C. who moved to Seattle three years ago and miss.

Oh yeah, my flirt attempt? She laughed at whatever I said and then told me I was "a riot." *sigh* always the Jerry Lewis, never the Brad Pitt. *groan* now that I cut my hair shorter, I even look like Lewis' picture on his IMDB listing. "Hey Layyyydies!" Maybe I should move to France. He's considered le hott-ness there, no?

But anyway.

Thank God for The Walkmen's Bows&Arrows. The song "The Rat:" best. song. ever.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

"Around the world in a day"

I am obsessed with checking my sitemeter account graphs and charts. I know you're out there and peeking in on My Cube Has Three Sides. You're shy, you're quiet: that's cool. Me, too.

Apparently, I am viewed often in Middle USA, Westside USA, and Singapore area (I'm sure this is coming across like Matt Dillion's "we're huge in Belgium" but, anyway). Hello to whomever you are.

My sleep cycle is suddenly completely messed up. As you can see, it is around 2:00 a.m. now. This would be fine if, say, I had a social life or had something productive going on. But, no, I am just zoning out on the TV, getting annoyed at Lilly (whine-meow, whine-meow), and clicking around on the 'net. The results of which will be me sleeping in way too late tomorrow and repeating the same old pattern (am off again, only got 30 hours this week, please send money). I need to spend my days getting a new job, but I can't think anymore. I don't even know what I'm looking for anymore. I don't want to get another job that's just another job. I need to figure out what actually interests me. This "I don't know what I want to be when I grow up" is fine when you're 18 or 25 or so, but 33?

Damn, dude, get it together!

I sent in my October Rent check on September 30th. I haven't heard back from my landlord either way, so I am assuming the month-to-month agreement he mentioned to myself and my neighbor is holding true.

To briefly explain: building is being sold, current landlord "doesn't know who the new owners are," building sale keeps getting delayed (supposed to close mid-July, then September 28th), current landlord says month-to-month okay--then, tells me to hold rent. (Screw that! No rent means new or current landlord can kick me out with 15 days notice or some crap.) Neighbor and I just went ahead and sent in October Rent and hoped for the best.

Wanted: new apartment, new job, a girlfriend.

At the very least, I need to hold on to this Part time Sales Associate position at Coffin&Betrayal long enough to get/not get the Mailroom Assistant position at Corporate I applied for a week ago. And guess what? I have no idea if my Transfer/application for the job even got faxed up to HQ because F is to do it; and, we know how dependable she is. She said she would recommend me, inform the higher-ups that I can start immediately, and fax the application that day (September 30th?). Um-hmm. Okay, sure, I totally believe you, right? In the 4 minutes this conversation took place, she hiked up her pants and tucked in her shirt like six times. What the Hell does that body language supposed to tell me? Luckily, she didn't have That Look on her face. When she's lying or really uncomfortable with the bad news she has to tell you, she gets this weird look on her face: slight flushing of cheeks near the nose, and this wide-eyed stare straight in your eyes look.

The fact I have to depend on this women for a recommendation frustrates and saddens me.

Okay, must go to bed--Tony Danza's late night talk show is on (He has a late night talk show?!!?!?), a good sign that it's time to go to bed. Good night.

Monday, October 04, 2004

Testing--frickin' one, two, three

trying to tweak my template and nothing is saving. this is just a test to see if everything is down.

Sunday, October 03, 2004

"...even a loser gets lucky sometimes."

Spent the morning/afternoon at M.C.'s playing Spider-Man 2

Ended the day playing Madden NFL 2003 against D.H. It was a grueling defensive battle on the Gridiron with many a turnover and barely-made-it First Downs, punctuated with numerous "Oh shits." End result: His Steelers 6 at my Raiders 7.

Good game. Good times.

Of course, in reality, this is the best team in the nation. (Just to let you know.)

Saturday, October 02, 2004

Nothing on TV but MTV2

Why am I still awake? I'm not doing anything productive, watching anything cool, reading something, or playing with the cat. I'm just zoning out at my computer desk staring across the room at the TV.

Oh, wow, that My Chemical Romance song "I'm not okay (I promise)" was pretty freaking intense, whoa!

Alright, I'm going to bed. I want to get up early to drink some coffee, do the dishes and otherwise be normal for a bit before I head over to M.C.'s place for some Playstation2 and Xbox action. Das right, punk, I'm in my thirties and still playing the video games. I like the Splinter Cell. And the NCAA Football and the Madden Football Never said I play well, but me like-y dem.

I think M.C. and D.H. like to play some SSX Snowboarding game, which not only do I suck at, but I get a little bored playing after like twenty minutes. Bonus points for tricky-styley this and thats with the wacky psychedelic colors in the background and all, sorry--yawn.

Okay, off to bed, some lame Rap song just came on MTV2. Signing off, yo! Keepitreal, yo! (hoo-boy, I am whiter than Elmer's Glue).

Friday, October 01, 2004

When, oh Lord, when?

With quick breath, I am awaiting this site to open up: Welcome to Bret Easton Ellis Online. I can't even remember how long I've been checking in on this site (two years, maybe three, maybe since 1989; it's all a blur), only to have my hopes dashed by inactivity. And then, they tease me with the "opening July/August 2004" line. Aaaargh. When one has no life, one lives through the eyes of Clay, Sean, Paul, and Lauren.

I am going to have to depend on Google and this guy for all my Ellis information. And, so far, Notanexit is a great place to check out. I am impressed with the layout, consistency of new information, the fact a "mole" sends him emails about Ellis' new book (possibly/probably entitled Lunar Park), and the newly installed discussion board. It's always nice to find people with a similar interest.

"The better you look, the more you'll see."--Victor Ward.

Yeah, yeah, lame pic, but I'm learning over here!

So artsy, yet crafty. Enigmatic, geeky, sultry, pouty and weary. Singing: "Keep your eye on the prize..."