the best word to describe life of late is bleh. but I think I know what could fix it. a party. I don't want to give one, nor do I want one given for me. just to be there. here's approximately how it should go:

9:30. I arrive with several others. Just a few have showed up so far, ten tops. Pleasantries had, drinks made.

10:00. I start to worry that the evening may be a dud, but someone interesting shows up with liquor and the news that more people are on the way. Within the hour, the stereo’s blasting and 30+ folks are milling around. A circle of pot smokers forms—I don’t partake of course, but take comfort in knowing that it’s there. Someone shows up that I don’t particularly like, but everyone else is friendly to him/her so I assume that I’m missing something.

11:00. Feeling buzzy, I get involved in a conversation with several people that I barely know in which philosophical and intellectual topics are bandied about. We discuss that we don’t see each other enough. Hugs are given and empty social promises are made—at some point within the next week pictures of said embraces will be developed and sent my way. Sidenote: historically at this point in the evening, I would have picked out a guy at the party as a potential make-out/hook-up partner and would increase my liquor intake to lower my inhibitions. As I’m very much spoken for these days, I decide who it would have been and hit the booze harder anyway.

11:30. A good friend of mine is tipsy and bitter about a negative interaction with someone else there, whom he/she is avoiding. For half an hour we retreat to a corner. I sympathetically listen to his/her ranting until he/she begins to feel better, after which we chuckle and quietly ridicule the offending party while watching him/her across the room. Again in a good humor, we rejoin the fracas. The undesirable who arrived around 10:00 leaves and everyone proceeds to discuss their hatred for said person. I feel vindicated.

12:00. Power hour. At least one indie rock song prompts a drunken chorus that makes me think, “Damn! I’m glad I know these people.”

1:00-2:00. Two people get partially or completely naked, two mysteriously disappear and reappear, and word makes the rounds that there are at least two people there that no one knows at all. I make good natured sexual overtures to my straight guy friends who won’t be offended by it. Someone says something hilarious that I write down on scrap paper. The next day I’m still sure that it was funny, but have no idea what the scrawl on the paper says.

2:00. I see someone that I’d rather not, and drag the 11:30-12:00 friend on a drunken walk to the nearest convenience store/supermarket for something as an excuse to hide. When we get back in half an hour, said person is gone. Close call. During the interim, a crafty drunken partygoer has been cooking—some surprisingly good snacks, probably involving fresh baked goods.

2:30. Just as the evening seems on the verge of winding down, someone shows up that everyone knows and loves—he/she lives out of town now, but is visiting. The party gets a second wind. An hour of reminiscing and gossip during which one or two ninety-pound weaklings finally throw up, lie down, and trudge home.

3:30. People begin to trickle out.

4:00. Six or seven of us remain; we sit on the porch quietly talking—the stereo has been silenced—until the residents of the house have all gone to bed.

4:45. Three or four of us are hungry, and the most sober of the lot drives us all to a 24 hour eatery for breakfast.

6:00. Stumble into own apartment, unsure of how I got there. Fall into bed and asleep around dawn.

This doesn't have to be followed exactly; it's a flexible guideline. If anyone is willing to attempt to reproduce such an evening, let me know and I'll bring the hooch.

all of justin's hard work on children of eden really paid off; his performance was stellar. the show itself was marvelous, of course. I know it sounds selfish, but I'm glad that justin isn't involved in any more theater projects for the time being--seeing each other so little was getting stressful.

I'm a big fan of the new hot hot heat album, elevator. critics be damned, I say it's a stronger record than make up the breakdown--they've proven that there's more to the band than being just "catchy." although it's still a hell of a lot of fun.

the whip's really cracking at the office. replacements for poor performers are being trained at the moment. a meeting was had last week, the gist of which was basically, "brace yourselves, because a lot of you are on borrowed time." thankfully my quarterly review was solid and I shouldn't have any reason to worry, knock on wood.

I'm discovering that terry pratchett's a lot of fun. huzzah for audiobooks!

time for some snackage.

rants.

I'm getting really tired of people who think that their life experiences give them carte blanche to be bitchy to all humanity. you think the world's given you a raw deal? boo fucking hoo. grow up, get over it, and start showing a little decency and consideration for other people.

I'm also tired of being the one to go to for all the favors, the one who can rearrange his life for other people, the one who won't expect anything in return. news flash: I expect plenty in return. I don't begrudge any of my friends anything that I can give, but fair is fair. if that makes me selfish, selfish I am.

too many people have this image of me as a doormat. maybe ten years ago, but not now. try to walk all over me and you'll find me standing on your back wearing cleats.

(author's note: oddly enough, no events have prompted all this tonight. no one specific has made me angry, and nothing has happened today to tick me off. I guess I'm just hormonally pissy. that doesn't make me any less sincere.)

I know the whole point of the game is to come up with the best answer yourself, but just in case you ever need to resolve a dispute this is phenomenal.

by the way, did y'all know that pam grier is from winston-salem? just what I need, more evidence against the home team in the ongoing gso v. w-s coolness debate.

update: have just learned that jackée harry is too! but--sorry to disrespect the dead one and his loyal fans--the annoyingness that was howard cosell was also. which just about cancels both out.

ha! I've always wanted to be a rake. next stop: cad!

Your Seduction Style: Siren / Rake

You possess an unbridled sensuality that appeals to many. The minute you meet anyone, you can make the crave you almost immediately. You give others the chance to lose control with you... spiraling into carnal bliss. A dangerous lover, you both fascinate and scare those you attract.

What Is Your Seduction Style?

randomness.

note to self: cut back on cryptic, whiny, one/two line pleas for attention when posting in blog.

I ask again, why do I never have any money?

I could never be a vampire. giving up garlic would be a fate worse than undeath.

you don't hear nearly enough about leona helmsley these days.

go here. donate money. get bracelets.

I drove home from work the other night with ophelia's top down. in the rain. it was totally sweet.

it's funny how a significant other really starts to become "your other half" after a while--the same comments, the same jokes, feeling incomplete when apart, etcetera. "better half?" well...maybe.

I must diet. if I start looking much more like an eggplant, I'll try to eat myself. which, I suppose, would take some of the weight off.

googling the phrase "miserable failure" ought to link to this blog.

sorry about the negativity. guess it's been one of those lives.

one of my favorite things is stopping for a railroad crossing at night, when I'm one of the few cars on the road. I turn off the engine and roll the windows down. I love listening to the sounds that the signals make. they hum and squeak as the barriers rise up and clatter into place in the wake of the train. I don't think many people think about that; they focus on the whistle and roar of the train and the ding of the warning bells.

I stopped for one tonight--in the middle of all this incredible fog to boot--and just wanted to share.

in an alternate universe, it's mid day in new york. there's a breeze blowing--the collar of my corduroy coat is turned up against it, brushing the back of my shaggy hair. in my left hand is a coffee from the hungarian pastry shop; in the right, a super 8 camera. I'm walking past the cathedral of st. john the divine and wondering if I'll get any good footage today. I'm trying to remember what's playing at the quad tonight, and who might be free to go. I'm wishing that I'd brought my gloves. I stop for traffic at amsterdam and 109th and for a few seconds turn my face up to the sky, thinking about how fantastic it all is.

yep. life is getting dull around here.

How evil are you?

I have just about had it with shoddy filmmaking.

a guy in the military is NOT going to have a thong tanline.

jeez. I could make such superior porn. it's all in the details.

I want to take a moment to talk about a very special man in my life.

he knows how important kind words and a smile are to me, and never fails to come through.

when the rest of the world closes their eyes and turns away, he's there.

so many people are unable to understand my lifestyle, my comings and goings at odd hours. he never complains about that, accepting it as part of the way my life works.

whenever I see him, he acts like I'm the only person on earth that matters--but for the two of us, the world could be empty.

and he knows exactly what it takes to make me happy.

he's the late shift pharmacist at walgreens. thanks for the zoloft refill, m'man. you rock my world.

speaking of pics, the new miatas are coming soon. I'm not sure how I feel about 'em. thoughts?

new nor'easter pic.

I watched vanishing point for the umpteenth time tonight.

I'm thinking of changing my name to "kowalski." just the one name, first and last.

but maybe I should sleep on it.

I have to find out what's going on with my finances. last week I got the biggest paycheck I've ever had, thanks to working that sunday. guess how much of is left?

zip. or thereabouts.

I don't feel like I spend that much money. yet twice recently my account's been overdrawn. I'm just going to have to put myself on a strict budget and stop using my check card. too easy to lose track of everything.

however, extravagance aside, I'm going to try and put some money back each week toward a new dyson vacuum cleaner. for some reason I'm fixated on getting one, especially since the old 'lectrolux has become nearly impossible to maintain.

enough excitement for one day.

do you ever wake up, think about your life, and say, "no thanks. I don't want any of that today." yeah. it's one of those days.

You Know You're From West Virginia When...

You only knew one or two Republicans as you were growing up. You actually know someone who has sold their vote for a bottle of liquor. You've never seen a local ballot with anything but Democratic candidates. You think Senator Byrd should be nominated for Sainthood. You've seen Senator Byrd's name on a sign in front of a bridge or highway construction project. You know what commodity cheese is. You've been asked to give someone a ride to the post office on "check day." You know what "check day" is. You have avoided the post office on "check day." You've seen a picture of John L. Lewis hanging on someone's wall right between the picture of Jesus and JFK. You know who John L. Lewis is. You know what a Tipple is. You know what a slate dump is. You played on a slate dump as a kid. You know someone who actually did go to Pruntytown. She same guy got his head shaved and "fell down the steps" at the court house a couple of times before being sent off. Everyone who works at the court house is related to someone else who works there. You sometimes call a paved road "the hard road." You know someone who has driven to a neighboring state to get "real beer" instead of the 3.2 stuff. You've bought fireworks from the same guy with the real beer. The state where this guy went might be called "O-hi." "Vacation" means driving through Wyatt on the way to Morgantown. Down south to you means Kentucky. Stores don't have bags; they have pokes. You cook green beans for hours. You know what a real tomato is, and have a recipe for candy ones. Your parents have threatened to have you sent to Pruntytown. You can watch someone order a hotdog and know in what part of the state they live. You know that Serpent Mound was not made by snakes. You know at least one couple who went to Virginia or Maryland to get married. You can change the oil in your truck without ducking your head. You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from West Virginia.

Get Your Own "You Know You're From" Meme Here



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I need to get away, and I'm taking suggestions on where to go. I want to visit a city that I've never been to. I'm willing to fly, but I'd still prefer one east of the mississippi since I'll have a limited amount of time and don't want to spend all of it traveling. major destinations I've already done: d.c., new orleans, savannah, chicago, and new york. doesn't have to be a big city, just somewhere interesting. feel free to give me idears.

I'm afraid the windsor crew is building much faster than I can keep up with their work. a few nights ago I drove by and saw that the first floor was framed--bare bones, but exciting stuff--and went back to take a picture today. yeah. check out the nor'easter gallery to see what has transpired.