Sitting at the bus stop, minding my own business, I found myself caught between a rock and a hard place. Looking back on it after the fact, I can laugh about it easily, but that was sadly not the case while in the moment. Let me explain.
While babbling at a bar about my passion for the Boston Red Sox organization, I realized that there was a fellow baseball enthusiast in the house. Her name is Megan and she has been a faithful Giants fan since the creation of their present ball park, AT&T Park. We talked and talked about petty statistics and former players, which eventually lead to an invitation to see a game with her and her family. I obviously accepted this invitation and am very glad that I did. I had a great time, aside from the fact that my brain was mush, I acted like a zombie during the entire game, and had a canker visible on my lip. The latter effected me to an absurd degree, forcing me to avoid direct, close eye contact. Self consciousness runs wildly throughout the majority of my family and close friends, sadly, but I have plenty of experience in dealing with it.
While taking public transportation, I got a call from Megan telling me to get off immediately and she would pick me up. I did so and waited at a bus stop where she said she told me to go. While waiting, and while being the nosy person that I am, not looking over at the group of Mexican gangsters was impossible. It was as clear as day that they were dealing drugs and I couldn't help but watch. There were about five very hard looking thugs conducting their business freely and openly until one of them noticed me staring. Knowing very little Spanish, I heard something that may have been in reference to me. That frightened me. I postponed my nosiness for a moment. In that moment, I noticed one of the hoodlums walking toward me. He was walking in a fast, aggressive manner, but that didn't change my approach at all, surprisingly. He got to an uncomfortably close area in relation to my personal space and said, "Are you a cop?"
Almost flattered by this interaction, I gasped with relief and replied, "Am I a cop? Nope. Not a cop."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, positive."
He walked backwards, back toward his group of fellow gangsters. All things considered, he was very a lot more cordial than I imagine he should be, given the exact context of our conversation. As I waited to be picked up, I pulled a book out from my bag and made it look as if I were reading it. Time passed, and a bus came and went. While the Mexican thugs were watching me, I realized that the bus that had just left is the only one that stops at that specific stop. Adopting the persona of a cop, still sticking around the bus stop after it had just left must have looked suspicious in the mind of my thug counterpart. And I realized that quickly. It was then deemed necessary to flee.
I briskly left the scene and walked in the direction that Megan and I would intersect the soonest. Glorifying the situation in my mind, I felt like Jack Bauer/Indiana Jones/Bruce Willis-in-just-about-any-of-his-roles. It was fun to think that way, knowing that these petty drug dealers had probably since forgotten about the situation entirely.
This is where I'd like to say that I narrowly evaded gun fire coming from every possible angle. Minutes later, Megan drove by and I safely left the scene.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Shapes or Shades
After blogging about non-poker related topics for the past two months, I've come to the conclusion that I should incorporate it a tiny bit more. After all, this blog was created to track my poker stats and stories.
If you play online, you are given a username to log in and to be identified as. Mine is Talue Vown. Value Town, but with some trickery. There is a player that I follow on a regular basis under the handle Quiet Lion. His name is Richard Brodie and you can find his blog here.
When you play online, you have the ability to chat with other players. After watching for a few short minutes, I come across this:
After taking some time off, I thought I'd need to shake off some rust. I feel that I'm playing as well as ever, and am in a far more clear state of mine than ever before.
Charts and graphs to follow.
If you play online, you are given a username to log in and to be identified as. Mine is Talue Vown. Value Town, but with some trickery. There is a player that I follow on a regular basis under the handle Quiet Lion. His name is Richard Brodie and you can find his blog here.
When you play online, you have the ability to chat with other players. After watching for a few short minutes, I come across this:
Yanksfan362: you aren't as quiet as your name implies.
Quiet Lion: I was lion about that.
After taking some time off, I thought I'd need to shake off some rust. I feel that I'm playing as well as ever, and am in a far more clear state of mine than ever before.
Charts and graphs to follow.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
No Good to Anyone Now
The idea of love is undoubtedly warped and fuzzy in my twenty-two year old brain, but who's isn't? From what I know of most relationships between friends of mine, people decide to label relationships as love far too quickly, forcing an unhealthy layer of comfort usually constructed from a fear of being alone. This type of thing, from an objective perspective, seems naive and dumb in a grand sense, but it is rarely simple enough to be viewed as that. I was in love and it was a perfect fit, and I am unfortunately unable to push it aside as false or unhealthy.
Wanting what you can't have is natural. Somewhere within the inner workings of my body, my arms and legs move about in a sometimes dishonest, sometimes primitive way. Years back, I came across someone that was alone, uninteresting, passive and dull. At the time, I took the love that I had for granted and shifted my energy from what was right toward what was distinctly wrong and nothing else. Writing about it in this fashion makes it seem as if this were a quick and heartless decision on my end, and I guess that isn't too far from the truth. Tension built between this sad, sad person and I over a very long and relatively uneventful time directly effected my relationship with Lee. My relationship with the love of my life was fading fast and it was completely my doing. I was aware of it, and viewed this "friend" as a plan-b, although she was the main reason why my relationship of almost four years was dissipating to begin with. For a long time, I felt indifferent in regard to Lee's (my actual relationship) view of time spent between June (my unconscious band-aid to fill the void left behind with Lee) and I. Looking back on it, I can't believe that I was incapable of understanding her perspective on the situation. Maybe I'm stubborn because she was right about it all. Maybe it's that I'm not completely over any of this yet. I can't pinpoint exactly what I feel, and whenever I feel as if I'm closing in on it, it changes drastically because od the fact that conditions are constantly changing all around me.
Attraction is obviously relative and I know that I'm not reinventing the wheel by mentioning it, but it's important to recognize. I spent six months in a relationship with someone completely uninteresting, unintelligent, manic, and unmotivated. I was fixed on the idea of a relationship only because I was a member of such a healthy one for so long, irrelevant to the one forming at the time. Being attracted to the fact that someone is attracted to you is a poor and shallow quality, and I wish that I was aware of it at the time. Having been oblivious toward the situation from the very beginning leaves me feeling embarrassed with all of those that know of my problems in greater detail. But can I really blame myself? When so many complicated layers of intricacy (sex, money, dependency, mutual friendships, feelings about others, etc) are poured onto an already frail and untrue foundation, what can you expect other than destruction? I'm left with that empty lot where a beautiful thing once stood, and am still cleaning up the mess from previous attempts to replicate it. And I'm not unhappy about that.
I was pursued while in a relationship, too. That is something that I find to be pathetic, especially if you are the pursuer. Especially if you are an admitted psychopath without enough respect for yourself to seek medical attention. I mention this because I see June doing exactly what was done to me to someone else. That someone happens to be in the midst of what I presume to be a healthy eight year relationship. Our relationship is pretty much non-existent, and I've only spoken to him once. Maybe he knows of my situation well enough to gain something from it. I hope so. Her intentions are so clear, and the temptation of infidelity is impossible to ignore for some. He seems like a decent guy, and I hope he doesn't make the same mistake I did. It's no coincidence that her only friend in this entire world is someone equally as pathetic as herself. I don't use the word pathetic too often or loosely, but I can't imagine a more fitting home for it. She's malicious in her intent and too dumb to realize it. Pathetic.
With that said, it'd be fun to see someone react under the same circumstances that I had to, in order to give myself a point to measure from. One hundred percent of people in the same situation would have done better than me. I originally intended to end this post with something to the effect of, "Despite all of this nonsense, I actually mean well." or, "Well, that's all folks!" but both come across as equally humurous.
Wanting what you can't have is natural. Somewhere within the inner workings of my body, my arms and legs move about in a sometimes dishonest, sometimes primitive way. Years back, I came across someone that was alone, uninteresting, passive and dull. At the time, I took the love that I had for granted and shifted my energy from what was right toward what was distinctly wrong and nothing else. Writing about it in this fashion makes it seem as if this were a quick and heartless decision on my end, and I guess that isn't too far from the truth. Tension built between this sad, sad person and I over a very long and relatively uneventful time directly effected my relationship with Lee. My relationship with the love of my life was fading fast and it was completely my doing. I was aware of it, and viewed this "friend" as a plan-b, although she was the main reason why my relationship of almost four years was dissipating to begin with. For a long time, I felt indifferent in regard to Lee's (my actual relationship) view of time spent between June (my unconscious band-aid to fill the void left behind with Lee) and I. Looking back on it, I can't believe that I was incapable of understanding her perspective on the situation. Maybe I'm stubborn because she was right about it all. Maybe it's that I'm not completely over any of this yet. I can't pinpoint exactly what I feel, and whenever I feel as if I'm closing in on it, it changes drastically because od the fact that conditions are constantly changing all around me.
Attraction is obviously relative and I know that I'm not reinventing the wheel by mentioning it, but it's important to recognize. I spent six months in a relationship with someone completely uninteresting, unintelligent, manic, and unmotivated. I was fixed on the idea of a relationship only because I was a member of such a healthy one for so long, irrelevant to the one forming at the time. Being attracted to the fact that someone is attracted to you is a poor and shallow quality, and I wish that I was aware of it at the time. Having been oblivious toward the situation from the very beginning leaves me feeling embarrassed with all of those that know of my problems in greater detail. But can I really blame myself? When so many complicated layers of intricacy (sex, money, dependency, mutual friendships, feelings about others, etc) are poured onto an already frail and untrue foundation, what can you expect other than destruction? I'm left with that empty lot where a beautiful thing once stood, and am still cleaning up the mess from previous attempts to replicate it. And I'm not unhappy about that.
I was pursued while in a relationship, too. That is something that I find to be pathetic, especially if you are the pursuer. Especially if you are an admitted psychopath without enough respect for yourself to seek medical attention. I mention this because I see June doing exactly what was done to me to someone else. That someone happens to be in the midst of what I presume to be a healthy eight year relationship. Our relationship is pretty much non-existent, and I've only spoken to him once. Maybe he knows of my situation well enough to gain something from it. I hope so. Her intentions are so clear, and the temptation of infidelity is impossible to ignore for some. He seems like a decent guy, and I hope he doesn't make the same mistake I did. It's no coincidence that her only friend in this entire world is someone equally as pathetic as herself. I don't use the word pathetic too often or loosely, but I can't imagine a more fitting home for it. She's malicious in her intent and too dumb to realize it. Pathetic.
With that said, it'd be fun to see someone react under the same circumstances that I had to, in order to give myself a point to measure from. One hundred percent of people in the same situation would have done better than me. I originally intended to end this post with something to the effect of, "Despite all of this nonsense, I actually mean well." or, "Well, that's all folks!" but both come across as equally humurous.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Super Market Sweep, Pharmacy Edition
Waves of dizziness and nausea are preventing me from enjoying this beautiful day. Not being able to pinpoint the root of my illness is frustrating me far more than it should. So I've decided to take action against my new sickness by doing what most consider as "the lazy approach." And that approach comes in the form of a pill knwn as ibuprofen. Most of you know me as a non-believer in Advil or Tylenol and both brands have not relieved or cured me well enough to change that opinion. However, I find comfort in knowing that they are designed to relieve my pain, which ultimately leads to relieving my stress derivative of my nausea and dizziness. It comes full circle in a deceitful way. Completely eliminating my illness is hardly ever the case with the consumption of ibuprofen, in my experience. I find comfort in knowing that there is something inside my body allegedly working diligently to enter me back into the world of wellness. Whether it is actually working or not is irrelevant.
Cliffnotes: Don't buy ibuprofen. Save your money.
The store/pharmacy down the street from my house is running a pretty +EV promotion. If you make a purchase of $25 or more, you get $5 off. That obviously sucked me directly into the store, leaving me to search for items that are even the least bit useful. As I leisurely waltzed from aisle to aisle, I crossed paths with a guy doing the exact same thing. He was juggling bug spray, sponges, a bag of elastics, and other some items of similar importance. I feel that I did a much more cost-effective/better job by buying floss, a fathers day card, an expensive paste to treat the canker on my lip, Advil, and a package of tennis balls. Of course, he didn't have a canker on his lip, leaving the numbers to be slightly askew (and bias, not prejudice.) If we were to break down the profit margin of each item, I would win and it would not be close. This was meant to be a joke, but I'm noticing that things just got out of hand. I have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about right now, nor do I intend on reading this to see if it actually makes some sense. Deal with it.
The cashier didn't scan the coupon until I mentioned it, and I expected that. I took the $5 I saved and bought a beer. Beer always does taste better when it's free. Or stolen.*
*-The past few sentences were a collaborative effort to joke about a recent situation. It's meant for a select crowd only.
Cheers.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Proof
My social life is a lively one, and I am happy about that. Shortly before leaving Boston, a lingering feeling of worry lurked about my brain. After having been a part of what I once thought was an intricate and healthy social web, leaving that forced a sudden feeling of anxiety onto me. Granted, my bonds with specific people have faded with time and I identify that as natural and sometimes irreversible, I still feel close with the true friends I have had, mainly because of our significant and beautiful memories that bind us together forever. Without those, we are an empty slate. Viewing this period of my life as an empty slate is dismissive of my past and I resent that I'm capable of doing things like this.
I have recently been turned onto The Rumpus by two friends. I could explain what they offer, but it'd be good for you to check it out. From what I understand, it is run by an author named Stephen Elliott and he happens to be a prominent figure in the bustling art community here in San Francisco. I have yet to read any of his work, but plan to after I finish with Kurt Vonnegut's Welcome To The Monkey House.
The Rumpus organizes an event called The Monthly Rumpus at a bar called The Makeout Room in the Mission area of town. The show exhibits artists not limited to fiction writers, musicians, poets, actors, actresses, etc. After hearing about this event in a sarcastic, chore-like tone, I wasn't too excited to check it out. The entire show was stunning, and I'm still talking with my friends back home about it.
I have an unhealthy crush on Thao Nguyen. Check her out.
Right now, I'm meeting up with new friends at a Salvadorean restaurant in the Mission. When I return, I plan to give a detailed report on The Monthly Rumpus. Checking out the website in the meantime is strongly encouraged.
Cheers.
I have recently been turned onto The Rumpus by two friends. I could explain what they offer, but it'd be good for you to check it out. From what I understand, it is run by an author named Stephen Elliott and he happens to be a prominent figure in the bustling art community here in San Francisco. I have yet to read any of his work, but plan to after I finish with Kurt Vonnegut's Welcome To The Monkey House.
The Rumpus organizes an event called The Monthly Rumpus at a bar called The Makeout Room in the Mission area of town. The show exhibits artists not limited to fiction writers, musicians, poets, actors, actresses, etc. After hearing about this event in a sarcastic, chore-like tone, I wasn't too excited to check it out. The entire show was stunning, and I'm still talking with my friends back home about it.
I have an unhealthy crush on Thao Nguyen. Check her out.
Right now, I'm meeting up with new friends at a Salvadorean restaurant in the Mission. When I return, I plan to give a detailed report on The Monthly Rumpus. Checking out the website in the meantime is strongly encouraged.
Cheers.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Haiku
I'm considering writing a haiku for each important person that I've met thus far. I was inspired to do so by a haiku posted on my new fridge:
I have some rough ideas for pretty much everyone. This one is for Jimmy MacCarthy, a fellow Bostonian sporting many different articles of Sox attire. We met as I exited the bathroom at a bar called The Broken Record.
Jose is a beer vendor from the Mission that knows ridiculous amounts about every topic I mentioned. We talked about Mo Vaughn, Phillip Seymour Hoffman's early works, Six Point Brewing Company, Mormonism, earthquakes, etc. He was cutting up newspaper clippings at an Irish bar in a largely Hispanic neighborhood.
Rory was born and raised in Dublin and is living here illegally. He works as a mason and for a moving company in San Francisco and has been miserably doing so for 4 years. His friend wanted to buy coke off of me, and was let down by the fact that I didn't have any. I guess being Irish in San Francisco means that you have access to coke. We obviously met at a bar.
I took a random sequence of buses yesterday, and it took me to the most expensive area of the city. It's called The Marina, and there was a bumpin' festival going on. This area of town is incomparable to any area of Boston, but sort of reminds me of a Newbury St/Beacon Hill fusion on the beach. Twenty-something year old snotty rich kids were running rampant with their Ferragamo shoes and Prada sunglasses. By the time I got there, it was 2pm and the healthy majority of people were drunk. In my travels, a drunk Asian kid (of a similar build to mine) lightly tapped me in the face with his digital camera and snapped a picture. I slapped it out of his hands and walked away.
I have 4 more, but after revisiting them, I noticed that they could come across as mildly offensive. I need to re-work them for a PG audience.
Also: I was rocked by the sun yesterday and have a nasty sunburn on my face and neck, leaving to me resemble a tomato.
Lady on the bus.
You fuck all your friends when drunk,
Now the whole bus knows.
I have some rough ideas for pretty much everyone. This one is for Jimmy MacCarthy, a fellow Bostonian sporting many different articles of Sox attire. We met as I exited the bathroom at a bar called The Broken Record.
You lived in D-town.
We drunkenly shook hands thrice.
"You rep Boston good."
Jose is a beer vendor from the Mission that knows ridiculous amounts about every topic I mentioned. We talked about Mo Vaughn, Phillip Seymour Hoffman's early works, Six Point Brewing Company, Mormonism, earthquakes, etc. He was cutting up newspaper clippings at an Irish bar in a largely Hispanic neighborhood.
Something in your teeth,
Is pink and looks like putty.
So irritating.
Rory was born and raised in Dublin and is living here illegally. He works as a mason and for a moving company in San Francisco and has been miserably doing so for 4 years. His friend wanted to buy coke off of me, and was let down by the fact that I didn't have any. I guess being Irish in San Francisco means that you have access to coke. We obviously met at a bar.
You wrote your number,
On a paper I threw out.
Your girlfriend was cute.
I took a random sequence of buses yesterday, and it took me to the most expensive area of the city. It's called The Marina, and there was a bumpin' festival going on. This area of town is incomparable to any area of Boston, but sort of reminds me of a Newbury St/Beacon Hill fusion on the beach. Twenty-something year old snotty rich kids were running rampant with their Ferragamo shoes and Prada sunglasses. By the time I got there, it was 2pm and the healthy majority of people were drunk. In my travels, a drunk Asian kid (of a similar build to mine) lightly tapped me in the face with his digital camera and snapped a picture. I slapped it out of his hands and walked away.
Wanted to punch you.
Very satisfied with my choice,
To break your camera.
I have 4 more, but after revisiting them, I noticed that they could come across as mildly offensive. I need to re-work them for a PG audience.
Also: I was rocked by the sun yesterday and have a nasty sunburn on my face and neck, leaving to me resemble a tomato.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Explosive West Coast Shit!
My pre-moving anxiety has finally subsided, and I'm really glad that I love it out here. Looking back on it, the idea of moving to a city that I had never been to is absurd. As it turns out, luck is on my side (pun intended), for sure. There is not one thing that I dislike about this city. Not one thing. The people out here (for the most part) are a complete 180 in relation to New England residents. People are friendly and helpful.
My first interaction with someone other than a familiar person was this: As I walked down the main street of the Haight area (a fun part of town), a man walked up to me as I was checking out a coffee shop. He said, "Boston, huh? Fuck you." referring to my hat. I wasn't sure how to respond, and in that time that I took to figure out a fitting response he said, "Hahaha I'm fucking with you. What's up man?" I have since come across some similar interactions, but not to that same degree.
Last night, I voyaged out to a few bars with Danni and her friend Kristina. We walked around the Mission area of town and were patrons of a bar called Zeitgeist and The Elbow Room. Zeitgeist was a pretty sweet bar, for the most part. The bartender on that particular night was silly. She would overwhelm herself with orders and forget the majority of them while making drinks, thus creating more work for herself. In the two experiences I had with her, she broke a glass and yelled at a customer. She got 50% of what I normally tip bartenders.
The Elbow Room registers as one of the worst bars I have ever been to. As a self proclaimed drink-slightly-too-much-er-but-not-quite-an-alocholic, this is a lousy category to be placed into. The drinks sucked. The bartender was a dick. The environment was tacky. They could be giving out hundred dollar bills at the door, and I still wouldn't go back.
Speaking of hundred dollar bills, I plan to end my month long hiatus from poker within the next day or two. After giving a lesson today, I feel that my conscious is finally clear enough to get back to the grind. My roommates are unfamiliar with the idea of "gambling" for a living and that was expected. I have an article pending approval from BLUFF magazine, and I intend to use that to corroborate my means of income to them. Not too-too worried about it, but it'd be nice for them to understand my method of thought regarding poker, and convince them that I don't flip a coin for a living.
As of right now, I'm going to attempt to make my bedroom a comfortable and livable one. Knick knacks, posters, and comfy looking things are to be acquired in the trip from this coffee/beer shop (Maxwell's) to my apartment.
To anyone that reads this blog: If any of you suddenly get the desire to come out to San Fran to chill or whatever, I am completely down with letting you stay at my place for a few days. I'm serious. Do it, especially if you've never been out here. Chances are that you'll love it!
My first interaction with someone other than a familiar person was this: As I walked down the main street of the Haight area (a fun part of town), a man walked up to me as I was checking out a coffee shop. He said, "Boston, huh? Fuck you." referring to my hat. I wasn't sure how to respond, and in that time that I took to figure out a fitting response he said, "Hahaha I'm fucking with you. What's up man?" I have since come across some similar interactions, but not to that same degree.
Last night, I voyaged out to a few bars with Danni and her friend Kristina. We walked around the Mission area of town and were patrons of a bar called Zeitgeist and The Elbow Room. Zeitgeist was a pretty sweet bar, for the most part. The bartender on that particular night was silly. She would overwhelm herself with orders and forget the majority of them while making drinks, thus creating more work for herself. In the two experiences I had with her, she broke a glass and yelled at a customer. She got 50% of what I normally tip bartenders.
The Elbow Room registers as one of the worst bars I have ever been to. As a self proclaimed drink-slightly-too-much-er-but-not-quite-an-alocholic, this is a lousy category to be placed into. The drinks sucked. The bartender was a dick. The environment was tacky. They could be giving out hundred dollar bills at the door, and I still wouldn't go back.
Speaking of hundred dollar bills, I plan to end my month long hiatus from poker within the next day or two. After giving a lesson today, I feel that my conscious is finally clear enough to get back to the grind. My roommates are unfamiliar with the idea of "gambling" for a living and that was expected. I have an article pending approval from BLUFF magazine, and I intend to use that to corroborate my means of income to them. Not too-too worried about it, but it'd be nice for them to understand my method of thought regarding poker, and convince them that I don't flip a coin for a living.
As of right now, I'm going to attempt to make my bedroom a comfortable and livable one. Knick knacks, posters, and comfy looking things are to be acquired in the trip from this coffee/beer shop (Maxwell's) to my apartment.
To anyone that reads this blog: If any of you suddenly get the desire to come out to San Fran to chill or whatever, I am completely down with letting you stay at my place for a few days. I'm serious. Do it, especially if you've never been out here. Chances are that you'll love it!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Being in Salem
Tomorrow, I will be a resident of California. As a result, I'm forced to run crazy amounts of errands up to the very hour that I depart (i.e. taking my car off the road, canceling my bills at my previous apartment, packing, meeting up with people, etc). I can't wait for this anxious/frantic period of time to be over and I can finally relax.
I'm listening to a mix that I made for a friend that I never shipped out. I don't really plan to anymore, mainly because it won't appeal to her as much as I had originally thought. It's sick sick sick though. I wrote Chop Suey on the disc, having nothing to do with System of a Down. Track list:
1. "Children's Story" by Slick Rick
2. "Fireworks" by The Whitest Boy Alive
3. "Fake Palindromes" by Andrew Bird
4. "A New Chance" by The Tough Alliance
5. "All Falls Down" by Kanye West featuring Sylena Johnson
6. "Down the Line" by Jose Gonzalez
7. "The Go in the Go-For-It" by Grandaddy
8. "Weed Demon" by Wavves (I listen to unhealthy amounts of this band.)
9. "Chicago (Adult Contemporary, Easy Listening Version)" by Sufjan Stevens
10. "Agoraphobia" by Deerhunter
11. "We Have Mice (Boombox Version) by Casiotone for the Painfully Alone
12. "Fear and Loathing on Cape Cod" by Piebald
13. "Baby" by J Dilla featuring Madlib and Guilty Simpson
14. "Pistol Dreams" by The Tallest Man on Earth
I love the way that it plays through because it is so choppy sounding and each song sets a distinctly different mood. If you want it, it's yours.
I'm listening to a mix that I made for a friend that I never shipped out. I don't really plan to anymore, mainly because it won't appeal to her as much as I had originally thought. It's sick sick sick though. I wrote Chop Suey on the disc, having nothing to do with System of a Down. Track list:
1. "Children's Story" by Slick Rick
2. "Fireworks" by The Whitest Boy Alive
3. "Fake Palindromes" by Andrew Bird
4. "A New Chance" by The Tough Alliance
5. "All Falls Down" by Kanye West featuring Sylena Johnson
6. "Down the Line" by Jose Gonzalez
7. "The Go in the Go-For-It" by Grandaddy
8. "Weed Demon" by Wavves (I listen to unhealthy amounts of this band.)
9. "Chicago (Adult Contemporary, Easy Listening Version)" by Sufjan Stevens
10. "Agoraphobia" by Deerhunter
11. "We Have Mice (Boombox Version) by Casiotone for the Painfully Alone
12. "Fear and Loathing on Cape Cod" by Piebald
13. "Baby" by J Dilla featuring Madlib and Guilty Simpson
14. "Pistol Dreams" by The Tallest Man on Earth
I love the way that it plays through because it is so choppy sounding and each song sets a distinctly different mood. If you want it, it's yours.
Monday, June 1, 2009
All Systems Go
"This is the same ocean where blue whales dive.
This is the same ocean that fell on white mountains.
This is the same ocean as tomorrow's good coffee."
I've been keeping it pretty lax and low-key in the days leading up to my departure. Some pretty solid time was spent up in Salem, MA last night. A good friend of mine invited me to drink some beers and listen to some records. That we did. I recall listening to Mount Eerie, Jib Kidder, theUSAISAMONSTER, and Black Elf Speaks.
While drinking a fair amount of intensely potent beer, I found myself knee deep into a passionate conversation/argument regarding astrology and horoscopes. I, of course arguing in the favor of the rational man, picked up on some fairly interesting points on the opposite side of the debate. For me, when it's dissected completely, the mystery and aura surrounding it becomes coincidence and patternless. Anyone that bases serious decisions on alignment of the stars is lazy. And gullible. Probably even dumb. I digress.
The entity defending the opposite side of the spectrum was a woman named Elizabeth. It got to a point where we were arguing for the sake of arguing, which was enjoyable. I found her to be really interesting for that reason, among many others. From what I gather, she's a touring musician originally from northern California, now residing in Berlin. She shared a story about her idea to move to a country where she doesn't know a single person or the language. Without any money, she found under-the-table employment as a dish washer as she spent time writing music. I found it to be overly inspiring and "gutsy" to pull that off. After explaining my situation (which is a watered down version of her story... moving to an area where I know one person AND the language,) she said that I'm going to really enjoy my time out there. Given her past experiences, the comment felt really comforting. You can check out her music here. Good stuff.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Wo(men)
After lurking across the sometimes hypnotizing interwebmosphere, I came across a wonderful article. This was found on a former friend's blog that I continually read, leaving me to feel an unusual form of guilty, as if it's a personal journal that I've found the key to.
The article left me feeling refreshingly thrilled. I identify the feeling with this:
Corroborating a shamefully honest opinion of yours to a friend/partner/parent in an artfully tactful way.
OR
Proving yourself right, already knowing it, now armed with a perfect summary of embarrassingly recent understandings. Sadly, I was not born with a complete understanding this article, as that is rarely the case. One thing I am told that I was born with is the unrivaled ability to successfully whine. This is exhibit A. Let's not kid ourselves, the blog era is directly effecting one industry far more than any other. Therapists.
The article left me feeling refreshingly thrilled. I identify the feeling with this:
Corroborating a shamefully honest opinion of yours to a friend/partner/parent in an artfully tactful way.
OR
Proving yourself right, already knowing it, now armed with a perfect summary of embarrassingly recent understandings. Sadly, I was not born with a complete understanding this article, as that is rarely the case. One thing I am told that I was born with is the unrivaled ability to successfully whine. This is exhibit A. Let's not kid ourselves, the blog era is directly effecting one industry far more than any other. Therapists.
IHop is Wack
In the early 90's, a band existed consisting of 9 year old boys singing about pizza, killing eagles and homeless people. They went by the name "Old Skull" and it is the filthiest, most raw form of music I have ever heard. They have a video for their song "Homeless" but their sickest song is called "Pizza Man."
It is believed that a parental figure is responsible for writing the music and lyrics. I choose not to believe that.
Oh pizza man,
If you are late,
You will give it to me for free.
OK, pizza man, here's your tip:
A bullet to the head.
It is believed that a parental figure is responsible for writing the music and lyrics. I choose not to believe that.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Jones' Orange Matches
It's 4:00AM here in Boston and I am packing up my belongings at a snail's pace. After some quick math and research, I have realized that it makes pretty close to no sense for me to rent a storage facility as I relocate to San Francisco. I have a bunch of furniture that I am never going to want in any future apartment of mine, a giant TV, and a game console that I hardly use. To pay $30 a month to store a bunch of useless shit annoys me. Ideally, I'd like to rent out a storage space for 3-4 months, to have a fallout plan, in case things don't work out over there ( <-- ).
I just watched MIA's interview with slithery political comedian, Bill Maher. My thoughts on him can be positive or negative on any given topic, but I enjoy what he does. Anyhow, it seems as if MIA gives the American public way too much credit, as far as knowledge-of-foreign-affairs is concerned. Over a significant sample, I would be SHOCKED if 15% of the American public knows where Sri Lanka is located. Shocked.
Since the early 80's, the Sri Lankan had been fighting off a separatist military organization named the LTTE. In a nutshell, LTTE fought for an independent state in the northeast area of Sri Lanka. Fast forward 26 years later, and 80,000 people are killed as a result, along with a failing economy, and warped population rates.
Check out the Bill Maher interview, if it's of interest to you. Pretty wild stuff.
I just watched MIA's interview with slithery political comedian, Bill Maher. My thoughts on him can be positive or negative on any given topic, but I enjoy what he does. Anyhow, it seems as if MIA gives the American public way too much credit, as far as knowledge-of-foreign-affairs is concerned. Over a significant sample, I would be SHOCKED if 15% of the American public knows where Sri Lanka is located. Shocked.
Since the early 80's, the Sri Lankan had been fighting off a separatist military organization named the LTTE. In a nutshell, LTTE fought for an independent state in the northeast area of Sri Lanka. Fast forward 26 years later, and 80,000 people are killed as a result, along with a failing economy, and warped population rates.
Check out the Bill Maher interview, if it's of interest to you. Pretty wild stuff.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Queens
My brain has been introduced to new information that hasn't been given the proper time to mentally digest. My view on certain people has changed dramatically.
I have spent the past few days roaming around New York City with Lee. Our spontaneous trip had no actual goals or agendas, and I enjoyed it that way. We drank at many bars (Beauty Bar, Duplex, Dallas BBQ, Sharlene's, Down the Hatch, among more) and stopped at some pretty strange places. An infinitely better trip that my last.
I found a note in a piece of furniture while I was cleaning out my apartment. It said "I'm sorry," and it must have been written by June before she moved out. Nine times out of ten, when finding something as "symbolic" and cliche as this (when referencing a past relationship), I find it upsetting. Being completely turned off of her, I felt irritated and almost found it humorous. We should both feel shitty about how we dealt with our situation from beginning to end, but I don't regret it as much as I should. I constantly view the negative times far more than the good.
While wondering the streets of East Village, I met a street poet named Donald Green. Lee bought some of his hand written work for $2 and I talked with him for over an hour. I love one of his poems. This is called "Blue Joy."
Out of gray
sky
came a bright blue
bird.
He sat upon my window sill
and for an instant-no
more than a ray of sun
in the whirl of time-we
stared at one another.
He then lifted his blue wings
and gently returned to the gray.
I combed my hair.
I brushed my teeth.
I dressed.
I then had my morning lemon
and went off to work.
And when the gray had
gone to yellow and from
yellow to a soft mellow
brown, I gathered my
things and rushed home.
I wanted to see if he had
come again with evening time.
Why?
I could not really say.
Perhaps, this is what
loneliness can come to.
Monday, May 25, 2009
OTL
Last night, I visited a studio called Outside the Lines for a show. This studio embraces and adheres to the needs of the mentally disabled. All of the artwork created is for sale, with 85% of the profits going to the artist. There was a fantastic gallery, among many carts with greeting cards, t-shirts, bracelets and prints. There was an original piece that I wanted to buy for $50, but it was already sold.
I went with two friends to check out a band called Child Abuse. They are tough to define as grindcore, but they are a 3 piece with keyboards, drums, and bass. The vocals were perfect for what they were doing, and the bassist held their infusion of noise together and in synch, keeping it from complete unstructured blasts of sound. Very enjoyable set, and I may even head to see them again today.
The closing band, Black Elf Speaks, is a project of theUSAISAMONSTER's drummer. They have a distinctly unique pop sound, with a wildly intense stage presence. Being a 7 member band dressed as elves, the sounds they make are unexpected and catchy. The band uses Native American folklore to create and explore untraveled lyrical worlds. Needless to say, I bought their newest album that they self released.
Also, I'm super excited to report that I finally have solved the puzzle of opening a beer bottle with a lighter.
Also, I am sporting a mustache and loving it.
I went with two friends to check out a band called Child Abuse. They are tough to define as grindcore, but they are a 3 piece with keyboards, drums, and bass. The vocals were perfect for what they were doing, and the bassist held their infusion of noise together and in synch, keeping it from complete unstructured blasts of sound. Very enjoyable set, and I may even head to see them again today.
The closing band, Black Elf Speaks, is a project of theUSAISAMONSTER's drummer. They have a distinctly unique pop sound, with a wildly intense stage presence. Being a 7 member band dressed as elves, the sounds they make are unexpected and catchy. The band uses Native American folklore to create and explore untraveled lyrical worlds. Needless to say, I bought their newest album that they self released.
Also, I'm super excited to report that I finally have solved the puzzle of opening a beer bottle with a lighter.
Also, I am sporting a mustache and loving it.
Likes
When the last living thing
Has died on account of us,
How poetical it would be
If Earth could say,
In a voice floating up
Perhaps
From the floor
Of the Grand Canyon,
"It is done.
People did not like it here."
-Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
I'm reading "Cat's Cradle."
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Accessing the Inacessible
I have an insatiable desire to know a person's true intention. To know motives and reasons behind a person's words and actions interests me greatly. Rarely is the truth entirely evident on the surface of a conversation or interaction. As a result, I often find myself poking and jerking social situations toward irregular (and sometimes uncomfortable) paths. Especially when forming new relationships, honestly in this respect is mightily powerful. When such a strong foundation is built, what is built upon it is limitless. Lies will lead to lying about lies and lying about lying about lies, creating an intricate and unnecessary web of deceit.
I consumed 3 caplets of Tylenol PMs and am now feeling the effects. I will come back to this later.
I consumed 3 caplets of Tylenol PMs and am now feeling the effects. I will come back to this later.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
79%
It seems as if I'm telling everyone a different story. I want to move to the bay area of California. I want to be unfamiliar with places and people. I want to write in a comfortable and clear environment. I want to take classes and learn Spanish.
Being the naive and hopeful person that I am, staying in Boston creates the opportunity for me to correct any relationships that went sour. I am in no way bitter toward any of my former friendships or girlfriends, but am eager to shed some positive light on them before they completely vanish. I sincerely miss the random, meaningless moments in a day:
- Driving around Hyde Park in my Volvo Stationwagon with Lee in the front seat babbling about something ridiculous and June laughing in the back seat. Fuck, I miss that.
- Sitting, drinking at Razzy's with John, June, Lee, Darrick, and whoever else we come across that night. Watching everyone make a drunken fool of themselves at karaoke.
The idea of sticking around is becoming increasingly stale. I'm too comfortable here. If I do stay, I envision myself giving biased advice to friends and girlfriends past. I see myself wasting time, and getting nothing accomplished.
To those dissatisfied with their lives thus far, I know that a spontaneous leap into the unknown is not always the answer. For some, it's working 50 hour weeks, drinking and smoking yourself retarded, having meaningless sex, and filling space. Not me. To me, what it all comes down to is this. When it's all said and done, I want to look back on my life here with a big fucking smile on my face.
Being the naive and hopeful person that I am, staying in Boston creates the opportunity for me to correct any relationships that went sour. I am in no way bitter toward any of my former friendships or girlfriends, but am eager to shed some positive light on them before they completely vanish. I sincerely miss the random, meaningless moments in a day:
- Driving around Hyde Park in my Volvo Stationwagon with Lee in the front seat babbling about something ridiculous and June laughing in the back seat. Fuck, I miss that.
- Sitting, drinking at Razzy's with John, June, Lee, Darrick, and whoever else we come across that night. Watching everyone make a drunken fool of themselves at karaoke.
The idea of sticking around is becoming increasingly stale. I'm too comfortable here. If I do stay, I envision myself giving biased advice to friends and girlfriends past. I see myself wasting time, and getting nothing accomplished.
To those dissatisfied with their lives thus far, I know that a spontaneous leap into the unknown is not always the answer. For some, it's working 50 hour weeks, drinking and smoking yourself retarded, having meaningless sex, and filling space. Not me. To me, what it all comes down to is this. When it's all said and done, I want to look back on my life here with a big fucking smile on my face.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
OOT
I plan to write a fair amount during my stint at my next place of residence, and may even get a part-time job at a bar or restaurant.
Playing poker on a "professional" level sometimes leads me down paths that I wouldn't normally travel. I'm forced to lend money to irresponsible people, and chase people around for it. (The following sentence has been removed.)
I checked out a bar called Penguin Pizza over in Brigham Circle yesterday. The beer list is deceiving because they run out of product on a regular basis. I had a Dogfish 120, a Magic Hat Summer Whacko, and a Brooklyn Lager. Enjoyable.
After, I went with a friend to check out my buddy Mark's set down the street at a bar called Curtins. I disliked everything about the bar, but had a good time nonetheless. I hung out at a house in Roxbury after the show and did nothing.
Cheers
Playing poker on a "professional" level sometimes leads me down paths that I wouldn't normally travel. I'm forced to lend money to irresponsible people, and chase people around for it. (The following sentence has been removed.)
I checked out a bar called Penguin Pizza over in Brigham Circle yesterday. The beer list is deceiving because they run out of product on a regular basis. I had a Dogfish 120, a Magic Hat Summer Whacko, and a Brooklyn Lager. Enjoyable.
After, I went with a friend to check out my buddy Mark's set down the street at a bar called Curtins. I disliked everything about the bar, but had a good time nonetheless. I hung out at a house in Roxbury after the show and did nothing.
Cheers
Friday, May 15, 2009
With All Due Respect
My words lead me toward undesirable attention. If I'm placed in a sudden, gloomy relationship, I am going to know how to handle the shit out of it.
I have been told by 3 women in my life that I am an easy person to love. I was so quick to take it as a compliment.
I have been told by 3 women in my life that I am an easy person to love. I was so quick to take it as a compliment.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Today and In February
I sent out countless drunken text messages to those fortunate enough to receive them. Some were ugly. Some were beautiful. Apologies regardless.
Last night, I joined some friends for a karaoke night over by Symphony Hall. The bar is called Our House East.
HIGHLIGHTS:
Chief sings"Thong Song"
John confesses that Soundgarden songs covered by women make him weak in the knees.
I hate Soundgarden.
The drop dead gorgeous bartender who took shots with us and charged us for about 1/3rd of our drinks.
I ended up making it home in one piece, only to leave for the downtown area around 3AM. I hung out there and hit up a diner on my home. (South Street Diner)
I'm finally taking initiative toward finding a new home for next month (June). Ideally, I want to stick around the Boston area until I collect all the money that is owed to me, but it may not work out that way. I have an application pending for a studio in Brooklyn and am keeping my fingers crossed.
The idea of hooking up with random girls does not appeal to me very much. For such an emotion-filled action to be done without emotion freaks me out, and seems vaguely ironic. A few months back (February), a girl who I had never been close with, but knew, kissed me. At the time, I was in a relationship and it was speculated that we were breaking up. She was a mutual friend that I met through my then girlfriend. I know this topic seems bland, but I felt that her reason for kissing me was to hurry along the process of separating by telling her what I did. Partially, I feel guilty for it, although I'm told that I shouldn't. It's interesting to dissect a person's true intentions after the fact. Amen.
Last night, I joined some friends for a karaoke night over by Symphony Hall. The bar is called Our House East.
HIGHLIGHTS:
Chief sings"Thong Song"
John confesses that Soundgarden songs covered by women make him weak in the knees.
I hate Soundgarden.
The drop dead gorgeous bartender who took shots with us and charged us for about 1/3rd of our drinks.
I ended up making it home in one piece, only to leave for the downtown area around 3AM. I hung out there and hit up a diner on my home. (South Street Diner)
I'm finally taking initiative toward finding a new home for next month (June). Ideally, I want to stick around the Boston area until I collect all the money that is owed to me, but it may not work out that way. I have an application pending for a studio in Brooklyn and am keeping my fingers crossed.
The idea of hooking up with random girls does not appeal to me very much. For such an emotion-filled action to be done without emotion freaks me out, and seems vaguely ironic. A few months back (February), a girl who I had never been close with, but knew, kissed me. At the time, I was in a relationship and it was speculated that we were breaking up. She was a mutual friend that I met through my then girlfriend. I know this topic seems bland, but I felt that her reason for kissing me was to hurry along the process of separating by telling her what I did. Partially, I feel guilty for it, although I'm told that I shouldn't. It's interesting to dissect a person's true intentions after the fact. Amen.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Exclamation Points Come Off As Tacky.
In high school, I was terrified and intimidated by girls. Although I'm not entirely sure why, I can honestly say that I was scared of taking part in a serious relationship. Being aware that high school relationships are almost always heart-breakers, I was overly cautious. Now, I feel very differently.
Toward the end of my high school career, I met a girl from two towns away. Her name was Lee and I spent almost every night talking with her for three months. I was infinitely attracted to her on so many levels, and loved to listen to her talk about her art work. During school, art was never an interest of mine, but I enjoyed listening to her talk because she did so in such a unique way. The idea of love was so new and boundless to me at this point, and it was ironic how naive I was. Years later, I was 99.99999% that this was the girl I wanted to marry and grow old with. To this day, I owe so much of my growth to her and am infinitely thankful to have been part of her life for so long.
As my relationship abruptly ended with Lee, I felt as if my legs were pulled out from under me. I hadn't been single since high school, and felt down and alone. To postpone my raw emotion, I spent a lot of time with someone that I considered to be a good friend. Her name was Caitlin and we had known each other for a long time. To my knowledge, we had been attracted to one another for a while, but never really discussed it. Partially, I wanted female companionship and someone to spend time with. Anything done beyond that was beyond cool with me, but wasn't expected. Our minds operated very differently and we didn't truly relate on very many levels. I am exceedingly analytical to absurd and unhealthy degrees and she is more of a free-spirited, don't-read-too-into-things type.
While spending 3 days hanging out with Caitlin and wasting time being 21 and attracted to each other (?), I noticed a drastic change in attitude with my roommate and important friend, June. At this point, she had been an extremely close friend of mine. I fantasized about her in such a way that I felt guilty. Very guilty for a long time. Our relationship was eerily platonic, and we were both comfortable with that. To this day, I feel that we were both conscious of being attracted to one another. Fast forward two weeks, and our relationship becomes extremely physical as we corner ourselves into dating. It was really cool for a while. We spun ourselves into an oblivion, and alienated almost all of our friends by being together. Although we weren't sharing a similar outlook on the future, we shared a lot of similar interests.
The relationship was fucking destructive, among many other things. We were up each other's asses permanently. For reasons that I deemed plausible, I did not trust her and it ultimately ended the relationship. Also, we are both crazy. I miss her company pre-dating and she misses mine, too. I also miss bowling and staying in at night. A lot.
I have had extremely unique situations as of late, and have learned to take it all with a grain of salt. Being a single adult is hilarious.
I wrote an unabridged, full story. Decided on posting the cliffnotes.
Also, none of the people mentioned in this post are on speaking terms with me. Obviously!
Toward the end of my high school career, I met a girl from two towns away. Her name was Lee and I spent almost every night talking with her for three months. I was infinitely attracted to her on so many levels, and loved to listen to her talk about her art work. During school, art was never an interest of mine, but I enjoyed listening to her talk because she did so in such a unique way. The idea of love was so new and boundless to me at this point, and it was ironic how naive I was. Years later, I was 99.99999% that this was the girl I wanted to marry and grow old with. To this day, I owe so much of my growth to her and am infinitely thankful to have been part of her life for so long.
As my relationship abruptly ended with Lee, I felt as if my legs were pulled out from under me. I hadn't been single since high school, and felt down and alone. To postpone my raw emotion, I spent a lot of time with someone that I considered to be a good friend. Her name was Caitlin and we had known each other for a long time. To my knowledge, we had been attracted to one another for a while, but never really discussed it. Partially, I wanted female companionship and someone to spend time with. Anything done beyond that was beyond cool with me, but wasn't expected. Our minds operated very differently and we didn't truly relate on very many levels. I am exceedingly analytical to absurd and unhealthy degrees and she is more of a free-spirited, don't-read-too-into-things type.
While spending 3 days hanging out with Caitlin and wasting time being 21 and attracted to each other (?), I noticed a drastic change in attitude with my roommate and important friend, June. At this point, she had been an extremely close friend of mine. I fantasized about her in such a way that I felt guilty. Very guilty for a long time. Our relationship was eerily platonic, and we were both comfortable with that. To this day, I feel that we were both conscious of being attracted to one another. Fast forward two weeks, and our relationship becomes extremely physical as we corner ourselves into dating. It was really cool for a while. We spun ourselves into an oblivion, and alienated almost all of our friends by being together. Although we weren't sharing a similar outlook on the future, we shared a lot of similar interests.
The relationship was fucking destructive, among many other things. We were up each other's asses permanently. For reasons that I deemed plausible, I did not trust her and it ultimately ended the relationship. Also, we are both crazy. I miss her company pre-dating and she misses mine, too. I also miss bowling and staying in at night. A lot.
I have had extremely unique situations as of late, and have learned to take it all with a grain of salt. Being a single adult is hilarious.
I wrote an unabridged, full story. Decided on posting the cliffnotes.
Also, none of the people mentioned in this post are on speaking terms with me. Obviously!
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Truth is Exactly This
Whatever it is you think you are, you aren't. A good friend, unique, well-read, good-looking, or smart. Well now you know. I hate to be the one to bear such bad news. I know it hurts to hear, but it's true. You don't mean anything to anyone but me. And even I think that you're blinded by conceit. So now you know. Free beer and basement shows don't mean you've made it. It's what you do, not who you were, or what you wear, or where you've been. So do something. Whoever you think is watching you dance from across the room, they aren't. If anything, they feel sorry for you because you try so hard. I know it hurts to hear, but it's the truth, so you might as well hear it from a friend. You're a has-been that never was. And I know it's mean to say but it's something I've been meaning to say to you for a while. You're a has-been that never was or will be.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
17?
Sometimes, when I dig my heels too deep into the ground, I find it a lot easier to adapt to my surroundings, when the choice with less potential consequences (lifting my feet and moving) is clearly the better of the two. Not necessarily a "right" or "wrong" decision, but the one with rational consequences. Defining each decision as right or wrong is rarely possible. I find comfort in having control and being the most aware, and at the same time, become dependent on people that also make decisions with significantly negative consequences. Not always the easiest type to trust.
A friend made a joke that I am capable of falling in love with a lamp. Not true. Also, it is a rip off of an Anchorman quote. Do not like. Within the same day, a joke broke questioning whether I'm going to stay single for longer than 48 hours or not.
I shaved my head today.
I'm listening to a lot of Verse, Deerhunter, and Broken Social Scene.
Girl: I'm the type of girl that wants to know if my ass looks big in jeans, or something.
Guy: Okay, well I am the type of guy that's not an idiot, and will always lie.
A friend made a joke that I am capable of falling in love with a lamp. Not true. Also, it is a rip off of an Anchorman quote. Do not like. Within the same day, a joke broke questioning whether I'm going to stay single for longer than 48 hours or not.
I shaved my head today.
I'm listening to a lot of Verse, Deerhunter, and Broken Social Scene.
Girl: I'm the type of girl that wants to know if my ass looks big in jeans, or something.
Guy: Okay, well I am the type of guy that's not an idiot, and will always lie.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
+more
Dear Self,
Life is too short to deal with superficial depressive robots. Que lastima!
Cheers,
Richard
Life is too short to deal with superficial depressive robots. Que lastima!
Cheers,
Richard
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