slapnose.com

Oh the volleyball carnage! We got our asses stomped very nicely last night, I think the other team was a bit confused.
"Who are these people? They seem to be enjoying this far too much for how much they suck."
But screw them, we suck good.

Two, three days for minimal sleep is catching up with me hard. My lids are droopy, the quiet hum of all these computers is so soothing. So soothing.

Okay, let this serve as my 915th resolution (this year) to write something and work on it for more than one sitting. You know, write like regular people, not like a hyperactive 8 year old. I've been slacking even on the topic project, which is purposely spontaneous and off-the-cuff. I've never counted, but I think it's about a 3 week timeline that I work on. Get all excited, start putting things out, good or bad, but working working. Then hit that mark and start losing confidence, feeling dumb, and then eventually I give up. Well not this time, baby! This time I'm going straight to the top!

Sudden, but expected (unfortunately expected to the point of already being spent) windfall, and my gadgety, silly toy itch is almost unbearable. Gotta do some calculating and make sure I can still afford to eat.

Hey look at me, I'm going back to edit something! Bet you couldn't even tell... See, now I've ruined it.

Frustration. I anticipate frustration because I know there were a hundred, maybe ten thousand, things I wanted to remember to write down this weekend but I'll never get even a tiny fraction of them. Of course, many of the thoughts I have when "the spirit moves" during a show fade quickly when I leave. It makes me sometimes doubt the experience's validity, but I guess I know better. It's all one thing, one part of it doesn't support itself, I need all the elements. But I like to think, anyway, that traces of it linger, inform, teach and expand. They do, I'm sure of it. It's been almost 9 years, and I'm not tired, not bored, and still learning.

Amazing experiences both. Merriweather was very powerful, beautiful. Great to be there with Denyse, Dave and Cass. Dave and I can share this thing in a way that's very rare and beautiful. Trey's dad in the audience, and I was thinking about what an unbelievable pride that must be. A swelling pride that I would think would be almost unbearable. To watch your son on a stage, leading not just a band, not just a popular band, but practically a movement. And one with few bad aspects. I'm sure most famous people's parents are proud of them, but he's done it on his own terms, he's not a sell out, and he inspires devotion that no "mainstream" artist could touch. It made me want to have kids.

The release. Getting out of here, out of the city, and into that environment. Not just thousands of people there for a party, to get fucked up, but really there to be shaken up. They know they're going to hear something new, something full of passion and soul. And they're rarely disappointed. I know I wasn't.

Then PNC was very good too. It's a shame the way a lot of these venuse are run these days, becoming less and less friendly and more and more profit driven. Of course they were always profit driven, and of course they have their rules and some would say (have said) that if you choose to break the rules, you can't complain when you're caught. But this is wrong. If the rules are unreasonable, it doesn't follow. You know.. Thomas Paine. One hassle is forgiveable, you always run into one or two staff people who have a chip on their shoulder. Sometimes I can see it from their perspective and understand their frustration, if not their behavior. But sometimes, quite often actaully, I don't understand the behavior of some of my "fellow" music lovers either. So it goes both ways. But when one, two, three incidents, you start to feel there's something wrong. The pre-show briefing for the staff must have warned of the "dangerous mob of hippies" likely packing granola bars (contraband!) and possibly water. We're not checking carefully for drugs, we just want to make sure they feel thoroughly violated before they enjoy the show. They made me throw away 3 granola bars. I guess they had a point.. If I had been able to keep them, I wouldn't have bought a $5 slice of doughy, undercooked pizza.

Speaking of.. beer.. the employee who decided that their also irritating wristband policy wasn't enough, he had to check my ID again. Sorta defeats the whole purpose of the wristband, don't it?

Anyway, I argued my piece, won handily, and got what I had every right to have. I'm sorry if you don't like your job, but it's really not my fault.

Today I'm crazy tired and have a volleyball game tonight. Might have to go home for a nap. And shoes.

I lost my train of thought (train of rant), and thus have ended this post lazily.. like this..

and it just kept getting stranger and stranger...

what with the bob call and all..

was it a full moon yesterday?

off to see trey! yay!

What a strange evening.

Volleyball was sure fun, though. I'll repeat, at the risk of sounding repetitive, taht I'm having a great time playing. Can't wait to play again. Really, it's super keen.

Gotta get some sleep, big weekend coming up. I'm very excited to see these Trey shows, not to mention Dave, and to spend some time with Denyse away from the city, on our own. I think it's really been good for me, for us, this past week to have some time apart. I've gotten some work done that I'd been meaning to do, felt good about it, and Imiss her. I really do. And that's important. It's just also important that I keep in mind the things I want to accomplish, and keep at them. It doesn't mean we have to not see each other often, but we have to encourage each other, allow each other to do other things. Other other other.

Anyway, I feel a lot better, and I'm looking forward to the weekend. What more do you want from a Friday?

Lord a mercy, it's almost 1 am. I've been doing this a lot lately.

Poor Denyse.. It's so hard to know how to deal with these kinds of things.. so hard. It's like the abortions, so disconnected, surreal. I mean, I know what the pain is like, but those kinds of pains aren't something you can conjure up. Sympathy is easy, empathy is hard. It's self-preservation I guess. Anyway, I hope Michael gets better, and I'm hoping that he will. As Dave would say, I'm sending good thoughts for him.

Things I wanted to get down: Subway, the harumphy lady who bumped everyone around and yelled even though the train was completely packed. "watch the baby". the big lady in spandex pants and a low cut shirt that said "Hustler" across the front in baseball jersey script. she and the mean lady were having a "who can wear the most ugly, fake jewelry" contest. She was dripping with cubic zirconia. Tits like a shelf. You could serve dinner up there.

She put her headphones on and started squirming. Like a worm, starting undulating and bobbing her head. It was really offputting. She had one hand on the center poll, and it was impossible to keep from imagining her as a stripper dancing around a poll. I thinnk she was thinking it too. "I could be a stripper. I'm sexy.. ba da ba da da". She gave the other lady, who was really short and stared too long at the front of my t-shirt, these really nasty looks. The otehr lady shot them right back. I don't care who would have won, I just wanted to see them go at it.

I think that's it. I wish I could have gone over to Denyse's tonight, I'm sure she's really sad and all alone over there. It was so late.. I'll try to get over there during the day tomorrow to see her. +

I'm in the mood to be impressed by technology. This computer is doing so many things right now, it's pretty cool. And I bet i look funny sitting here with headphones on, sipping water out of a blue tube. I make no apologies for hands-free water supply, though. It's the greatest thing ever.

Just to get it out of the way, I'm listening to music, burning a CD, downloading a show, and displaying several web pages, typing in one. Not to mention running a web server, ftp server, and several other random little system tray jobbies. But I'm really most impressed by the water tube.

Okay, there, now the CD burning software crashed. I had to open my big mouth. Windows stuck it's cock right in there, as if to say, "excuse me, you are using a microsoft product. get used to it." So now it looks like I'm in for a restart. Weeeeeeeeeeeeee. Gonads.

It was fun to steal tonight. Very exciting. When it comes down to it, I'm a wuss about that kind of thing, always have. Maybe it's true. Maybe I am a pushover. It's another flavor of the "You're too nice" routine. Maybe it's the "grown up" version. Gotta be that bad boy. I'm bad, I'm really bad. A bad influence. I don't give a shit for nobody. Least of all you. I could give a fuck about you.

Howzat?

Doesn't work. I'm still that guy. I'll pay half the bill and not say a word. It helps with my whole "holier than thou" patina. Maybe rust is the right word. Anyway, it must help with something, because I keep doing it.

Moesha me left, Moesha me right, Moesha me day, Moesha me night, Moesha me wrong, Moesha me right, Moesha me read, Moesha me write.

This morning I was sitting next to a girl on the subway. She seemed nice enough, pleasantly reading a thick book. At Delancy Street, the guy on the other side of me rose to leave, stepping on her foot as he passed. She cried out, "OW!" and looked at him like death. He tried to get out an apology, while still heading for the door, even stopping and risking missing the BING BONG. Her response was "YEAH, YOU STEPPED ON MY FOOT AND THAT'S WHY I'M OWING!". He looked perplexed, and mumbled some more "excuse me"s and "i'm sorry"s, at which she scoffed.
Two seconds later, she leaned across the aisle to offer her seat to a mildly pregnant woman. It was as if she was suddenly a very nice person, but we all knew better, and the pregnant woman wisely refused, preferring to stand than sit in the butt sweat of such a New York stereotype. I shouldn't have said butt sweat.

It was hot though.

Interesting talks on music and life with Alec Berlin tonight at the Red Light. Rich was doing well, as it was his birthday. Alec recommended a guitarist who plays every Thursday night at a bar in the West Village that sounded well worth checking out. I think I had heeard his name before and now I'm going to try to remember it.. Krantz? Wayne Krantz? That could be miles off. Let's consult the old internet.

Well, Wayne Krantz is a person, a guitarist ta boot, who plays in New York. So that must be him. I wonder where I heard of him before..

It's almost 1 am, and I should really be sleeping. I had intentions of working on many things tonight, but did few. I'm more pleased with my topic project posting than usual, though, so I go to bed smiling...

It's hot. It must be about 10 degrees hotter in my room than it is anywhere else. And the subway car I picked out on the way home had no air-conditioning at all. It was like riding in a shakey, noisy tomb for half an hour. A lot of people got off as soon as they stepped inside. I decided to brave it, "sweat it out", so to speak. And I did. Right through my shirt, but I enjoyed it. It's good to get in a good sweat now and then, though some oxygen would have made it a bit nicer.

I'm disappointed in my writing, as mentioned yesterday. I'm trying to be determined to fight through it, because that's what I've been missing. Fight. Maybe I should start a fight club of the mind. Did I write that before? Despite my sinking self-seteem at times like there, I'm trying to be better. Keep it up, work the muscle, maybe it'll get strong. I want to come up with some other exercises that I can do on my own. The topic project is good because it's.. what is it.. because it's enforced I guess. Not with any actual authority, but with good natured, mostly self-inflicted guilt. Some private exercise will allow me to be a moron though. Let the idiot that's in there struggling to get out roam free.

Getting some good work done on slapnose in the past few days feels good. Even though I have no clear vision for it, at least I'm trying to keep it coherent, keep the clutter to a minimum. It's growing though, and soon the main navigation will have to be redesigned. I keep making little mini-sites behind the main pages with their own navigation, instead of a coherent whole. I could probably draw a nice parallel between that and my real life, but I won't. I'm not good at those, waddayacallem.. metaphors.

Had a good talk with Denyse today on the email and on the phone in the stairway. If we can keep that kind of dialogue going, keep the bullshit at bay..

I miss funny. Gonads in the lightning, in the rain.

Wakka wakka wakka.

Coney Island. What a creepy, weird, strange, fun place. I loved it. Going out to a festival with a big group of people, varying personalities. Endless entertainment. Got to ride the Cyclone, definitely going back for the batting cages, ride the Cyclone again, and see what the place is like when it's not teeming with thousands of people. It's like a cheap, dirty, state fair, but it's there all the time. I'm interested to see what it looks like in the winter. Perfect setting for a Scooby Doo episode. pssasbbbbytttt...

I'm hitting the point where I get frustrated. Every time I take up the writing regularly thing again, I do it and enjoy it for a few weeks, and then I hit a wall. Feel like I've got nothing to say, no insight. Just dumping. Brain vomit. Core Dump. Maybe I should start a new journal called Core Dump Refined. Or something. As always, my problem is my need for instant gratification. Also time. Never enough time. Then when there is time, I can't say I'm exactly using it exactly how I'd like.

Saturday night Trivial Pursuit is right up my alley. Cheap fun, good people. Beer and pizza.

Worked on the Portugal site for all of the afternoon and evening. It's good to do that, but it's not as good as some other things I'm avoiding. Writing, reading, cleaning my room. Clearing out the detritus. It's not spring, but this shit's got to go anyway.

It's time to stop fucking around.

I think the Friday party would have done well to have started a bit earlier. I also shouldn't have had 2 beers at the GasLight before going over there. But, hell, great movie. I know Rich and I enjoyed it.

I left feeling far more intoxicated than I had thought I was. Hit the train, and I was right asleep. It must have taken me and hour and a half to get home. Someone must have been holding the doors for a loong time...

There was a couple on the train with a baby, out way past its bedtime. They looked so tired, so unhappy. It was pretty sad. It was good to see that they were together, taking care of the kid, but they both looked so much like it was the last thing they wanted to be doing right then. A look on their faces like they were seeing the whole arc of their lives laid outbefore them, and it was almost a tragedy. There was no joy there. Just a recognition that they were in for a lot of work, a lot of fights, a lot of sacrifices that they never wanted to make. Maybe they did want to make the sacrifices at some point, but they weren't ready. I couldn't stop staring at them.

There are some decisions that you can't walk away from. Some of them are very deliberate, big decisions, others are sort of a combination of a bunch of small decisions that we don't think are that important at the time. With every compromise, every sacrifice of something we know we shouldn't, we're piling on. At some point, you get that look.

And then on the other hand, there's volleyball.

My problem is my memory. I can't remember anything. Not the things I want to remember anyway. Images, things people said, things I thought; they slip away from me. Constantly. Since I woke up this morning I've had oodles of ideas.. Things I was going to write, insights into my life, your life, their lives. But now I sit and stare at the white and it's all gone. Blank. Nothing. Bah.

I seem to have an unlimited memory for song lyrics, ridiculous trivia, phone numbers and other useless mumbo jumbo, but a memory like a net with big holes in it (couldn't remember the word I wanted) for most of the stuff I'd rather remember. Maybe it just takes practice. Or one of those little tape recorders.

Hard times for Denyse, and it's awful. So hard to understand these things. There's really nothing to understand. "What can you say at a time like this?" I remain optimistic though, I think people can beat things if they try hard enough. Of course some things get the best of us, but we gotta fight. Positive, hopeful energy (lay your hands upon me, child!!) certainly does no one any harm.

I have a backpack full of water, and I can't stop thinking about it. Walking around, on the subway, I'm wondering if anyone realizes how much water I'm toting around. It makes the backpack stand up on it's own, like a sandbag. Or a waterbag, more precisely.

Certain tattoos you just know came from prison. Or at least that's what they want you to think.

I'm feeling a loss because I have no packages on the way. I like packages. Consume consume consume. Track my package on the UPS site. Ooh, ooh, it's in Jersey! Scheduled delivery 7/19/01!! But now, nothing's coming. Nothing on the way. Nobody loves me. No e-tailers, anyway.

Guess what today is?? Yeah, good for me. Ain't I great.

Other than that, it's not such a great day. I did find out what those nitrogen tanks that you see on street corners with tubes going underground are, though. So I got that going for me.

Bored at work. I hate being bored at work. When I had my own little cubicle in Seattle, I could at least work on other stuff with relative impunity. Here, I'm always paranoid that I'll get busted. Of course it's not like I'm doing anything bad, I just may not be exactly working, per se.

So, do I get a celebration tonight for my specious accomplishment? I doubt it. It's not feeling like a celebratory kind of time right now. What with all this disease, not to mention difficulties.

Volleyball was terrific fun last night though. It's been so long since I've had that kind of fun. We got our asses kicked, but we improved with each game, so that bodes well. Always need all the boding we can get. I had a string of good serves, one block, and a couple decent plays. It was over too fast.

Tuesday felt like Saturday, but I had to work. So drunk from the night before, well, not actually drunk, but that pickled feeling. Queezy, I think they call it. It seemed that everyone on the F train had an evening and morning like mine. Surprisingly quiet and empty. I try to read, but I'm hearing the words in my head instead of reading them. Like reading to an audience and having no idea what you just said, except the audience is me.

I'm having trouble getting into Lie Down in Darkness, but I persevere. Today was better than yesterday. Maybe it's because it's third person omniscient. Oh look at me with my literary terms. I think most of his other books are first person and I like that better. I think.

Today is Volleyball Day. I'm excited but hungry.

A sad thing about Aunt Anne. I can't remember the last time I saw her, I suppose it was a Christmas. Maga (is that how you spell that? Magga? Weird.) Anyway, her last surviving sister, and a face that keeps her alive. I expect that Dad's having a hard time with this because they were so much alike. I don't really know if they were alike in personality, but they looked alike, and I always thought of them as similar. Maga gone when I was so young. It's hard to think of what to do... And Michael too, it's so sad. And yet, both of them, and others, shit, it just keeps happening and it will just keep on happening. We say it's not fair, but really, it's entirely fair. No body here gets out alive. We can't pick the end, most of us, we can't do anything about yesterday, but we can pick now, choose to live.

Slipping. The habit, already. Not upset about it, but you know. Get in there, do it, quit yer bellyachin'.

Up early, but I'll still be late. A talent I have. Feeling pretty pickled, blood still 10% Budweiser.

A nice day, boating, walking, eating at strange Brazilian places, bits of steak (broiled), silly movies and lots of beer.

Missed my first topic project posting! Glad to get that out of the way, now I can miss more.

No time for this! Bed time! Run for the bed!

It is in fact way past my bedtime, and Fear Factor really wasn't worth it. But at least now I know. These reality shows, it's best to watch an episode, see for yourself how ridiculous they are, and then you never have to watch that particular one again. This will work for me with Fear Factor. Slightly interesting, only very slightly.

Volleyball was terrific fun. I can't think of the last time I played a sport on a team, against another team, in anything even remotely like an organized way. It's great. I've been wanting it for years, in the back of my mind. I'm excited about this.

Moved some stuff over to Denyse's new pad. That place is sweet. I almost wish it was to be mine, or ours. Not now, though, and that's fine. The place will be there, it seems like the kind of place we could pass along to friends. And mama mia! That Thai restaurant down the street was fantastic! A real neighborhood, it'll be fun to hang out there. Play dominos on the stoop, complain about the government, paint things.

I have no idea how to play dominos.

Okay, we've made a pact. And by god, we're going to stick to it! Come Monday, it'll be alright. I hate to quote Jimmy Buffet, but that's the lug you're looking at. Er, reading of. Er..

Parties can be so hit or miss, and this one was a hit, I'd say. Good crowd, not too big, some nice new faces, and the mid-party entertainment of.. what the hell were they? The Debutantes. They arrived and swooped in, greeting everybody and thoughtlessly remembering everyone's names. Biggest smile I've ever seen. "You'd make a great nurse!"

Good for us too making a clean exit. One can always stay, straggle out at 5:30, hammered or sobering up and tired as hell, but as Phish and Seinfeld have shown, it's always better to leave on top of your game. Leave 'em wondering.

And now for pot-cookie. Saturday morning and I feel like I have my own apartment again. Ah, but 'tis not to be.

Back from the moe. show. Too many periods. They were good. I can be hard to please when it comes to a jam band show, but I liked them. They've got what it take, baby! Nice to be outside, have a few beers, nice cool evening, good music. I've missed it this summer, I'm excited for the Trey shows with Dave & Co.

Million dollar idea #253
Porn Chips - Potato Chips with edible ink printed porn pictures on them.

Work can be satisfying, in its way, when I have something to do. When there isn't much going on, it's spirit crushing. Must keep busy.

Just made it to pay day, about as close as I've cut it in a loong time. Vacation's will do that, but there's no end in sight. Gotta buckle down a bit, prioritize. Did well these past two weeks out of necessity. I need to make necessity. Fashion it.

Or a home theater.

And thus it begins again.

Or so I'd like to believe.

Nothing to say right now.