Heartland Transplant

don't call it a comeback

2006-03-30T08:54:00.000-05:00

It's been Donkey's Ears since I last wrote something here, and I realized that I've had that bloody stileproject image sitting proudly atop the blog for months. Not terribly tasteful, but still, I think, funny. Its the look on their faces, and the fact that they all have matching underwear... you look at it and think, what kind of crazy shit is going to happen next after they took the picture?

anyway, to sum up my long absence: I had moved to ohio to get a job and hopefully set up residency. I hadn't gotten a job after a month and a half, and while I was searching I got a phone call from an old employer who was in desperate need of someone, due to their exponentially expanding workload. They're a Landscape Architecture firm, so it sorta fit what I was looking for, in that they were going to have me learn AutoCAD and various 3D render programs, all things that would be extremely useful to me later in my pursuit of a masters of Architecture degree. So I came back to baltimore and have been working at Floura Teeter Landscape Architects. Its been basically pretty good. I like my job and my coworkers (all two of them) and I've learned alot. I recently got into the masters programs I applied to, and I will be attending University of Cincinnati starting June. I'm going 'upstate' for four years, with only 3 month periods off for good behavior. should be great fun. I've been dating someone lately, and that's been going well, but I'm not sure what will happen once I go to grad school and sell my car (alas, my poor element!). such is life.

Anyhow, I await june with bated breath, and in the mean time fret over how to pay for it all. I am sure I will figure that out, however. The tuition is pretty expensive, but I also have to buy a 3,000 dollar laptop (its fucking sweet, trust me) and probably 1,000 dollars worth of software. so student loans, here I come! huzzah.

but beyond that, theres not much to report, I mean the last couple months have had periods of intense excitement, but mostly have been pretty mundane. I am loving not working construction, I am still struggling with the lack of stuff to do after the workday is over. I am looking forward to the nonstop work crush of school weirdly, although I'm sure I'll change my tune after a couple months of it.

see how long this lasts

2005-11-21T23:13:00.000-05:00

Have an early, and expensive, xmas

2005-11-21T13:46:00.000-05:00

One more thing that I forgot to get angry about in my previous post. I realize this is hardly original but, jesus, the holiaday ads are being run early and often this year! I saw one two weeks ago. I mean two weeks before thanksgiving! And they are all exhorting me to buy ipods and laptops and plasma screen TVs for my loved ones. Where in the world would I come up with the money for this stuff? Apple sends me emails almost daily telling me what I should get my little sister and father, and their suggestions add up to thousands of dollars. If they did their research right they'd know I have only ever bought ipods from them, and that both ipods I bought I got replaced after malfunctions, so theorectcally I've purchased 4 ipods at half price! well they wouldn't know that my credit card is 25 bucks short of maxxed and that I'm decideing bewtween paying my car payment or my health insurance for the month, but thats ok apple you can keep stuffing emails into my inbox exhorting your uber-expensive products. Ok a lot of that was an exxageration, and I probably sound like Adam Waldman's blog now, but thats ok.

Im not over here now, because adam is over there.

Rockin' the Suburbs: Baltimore Edition

2005-11-21T11:45:00.000-05:00

My travels are never ending. Yes, once again, I am a denizen of the fair city of Baltimore, nestled uncomfortably on top of the Mason-Dixon Line, and unable to make up its tiny mind as to which part of the US it really wants to belong to (ok, it's not really on the Mason-Dixon Line, it's south of it, but it still suffers from an identiy crisis). I'm in a new job, and Lo! it is a good one. Instead of using a 20" carbide blade to cut through concrete, I now use a 20" flat panel to move tree symbols around theoretical concrete, and the difference is remarkable. I am trying to shed the 10-15 pounds I gained while under the grandmotherly cooking regime, and that seems to be progressing well, even if it never goes as fast as you want it to.

I went to a Ben Folds concert last week that was really pretty fun. It was Ben Folds with the Baltimore Symphony, so it was at the Meyerhoff and it wasn't too weird for me to be there by myself. The concert was good, and I was happy to see that while he didn't play Rockin' the Suburbs or Song for the Dumped, he didn't sensor himself and turned out some old goodies like 'Army' or 'one angry dwarf...' which actually really rocked with a 90 person symphony to back them up. It was a good experience, and almost worth the 50 bucks I shelled out to see it.

I finally gave in last night, after months of swearing my undying hatred of Conor Oberst, that wuss who has taken my name and made silly music with it, and listend to a Bright Eyes album. I really really hate to say this, but for some fucked up reason, I like it now, whereas 5 months ago it made me and my brother gag, despite the ridiculous critical acclaim it was getting. My how we change. So Conor, you can keep your name, for now. Just remember you're still On Notice.

I'm kinda curious as to how the Colbert Report will go. I'm back to watching Comedy Central, now that I'm back in a house with cable, and I was pretty skeptical about how they'd pull off a daily show like show with ex daily show alums right after daily show with tie in right from daily show. I'm not totally convinced yet, but so far the format seems different enough, and they have established distinct features that lend the show it's own sense of self, so I am mostly pleasantly surprised. I still like john better anyway though.

I'm in the middle of trying to complete applications for grad school, and I'm getting strong nostalgic whiffs of early senior year in high school. Each school has it's own little special form for reccomendations, their own little way of getting materials, their own little due dates and policies. It's terribly annoying, and one thing that I really liked about the way people in Ontario apply to school--one bland app with stats and requisite information. I suppose that doesn't fit the grad school model so well, but I wish it did. Still though it's all very exciting I have to admit. The idea of being back in school, and being in grad school no less, thrills me.

I saw Ben and Mike a week ago in DC, and had a really good time. I was only down for the evening, and left really early the next morning so I could make it to a Western Maryland Antiquing trip (I know, I know, why would I do that, right?), but I got enough time to catch up and drink a lot of beer. BEn and I hung around the international student house courtyard with a couple six packs for about two hours and managed to have conversations with a french girl about the riots and the problems of islam, a polish guy who was impressed with our czech beer selection and educated us about the precarious position of poland in the EU and a funny british chick from bristol who seemed ignorant of Massive Attack (I could have sworn they were bristol based). All in all a varied evening. We ended up at a house party of a student house alum who works for the IMF or World Bank or something, and it as fun smoking in his apartment to eurotrash dance music while representives of most of the major european countries got smashed around us. Once again, trips to DC always seem to be pretty fun, even if theres no Dance Cave or matador.

oh well can't think of much else. oh, CHARLES UPDATE MORE! LESS BASEBALL! MORE MUSIC POSTS!

Fingers in the Factories

2005-10-27T23:55:00.000-04:00

Watched the movie Layercake tonight. I was sorta surprised... I had though that my general reaction to it would be the same as my reaction the brit thug caper ritchie movies that so many people like; cool, flashy, good music and nice threads and gun battles but ultimately kinda corny and trite. I didn't feel that way about this movie though. It certainly wasn't earth shattering or full of great messages, but I felt it was more understated than the ritchie movies, despsite the somewhat over done music montages, as sk pointed out to me earlier. Very slick like the others, lots of garbled accent bullshit, and the plot wasn't fantastic, but it was pretty decent. I liked how, unlike the ritchie movies which feel like extended music videos for old brit music that 90 percent of the world doesn't know, the end ties up well, but not perfectly. and I the ultimate end of the movie is kinda cool. I mean it sorta makes the movie a little self conscious doesn't it? oh well I've seen plenty of more respectable movies, so I won't chat about this one any more.

Some times certain songs come on itunes, or a part of a movie happens, or fuck I don't know, something happens and brings up all these nostalgic feelings for when I was college and tiny piece of the cosmopolitan pie that I glimpsed and perhaps partook of when I lived in Toronto. I think of all the chic bars I went to, and how towards the end my friends and I had started going to more underground events, trendier and harder to find night spots (and of course more expensive, which is why I graduated with a maxxed credit card). We weren't high rollers or anything, or really super trendy people, but our weird mix had a good nose for finding good stuff, and so I found myself at an art show on Queen West getting hit on by a very hot transexxual, and watching a guy suspend himself from the rafters of the gallery on hooks through his skin, surrounded by modern art about primates. Or the various after hours clubs we found through others that made us feel special... I was introduced to the matador, and in turn my group of friends introduced a score of other people to it. I can actually say that 'I remember when that place was good' although it may have been good and bad for decades before I went there. This isn't terribly original, but we were at the Dance cave all the time, and before it blew up, and we weren't even hipsters, my friends just always got dates from there and the beer was cheap and hte music was good. When I was last there, we couldn't even get into the place at 11:30 because it was 'at capacity.' Sheesh. There were countless other things, scrambling around drunk and tired on the railroad tracks at spadina dupont at 8AM after a long night abd breakfast at the Vesta Lunch. Jesus it's weird, we even cultivated relationships with bouncers and night people... it actually paid off.

But after all of this has become memory for me--I haven't done anything in the last year that even remotly aproximates that stuff--I have to wonder if my longing for that stuff is for real, or just for an image that I think is real. I have many times throughout the last year wished I was in a more cosmo place doing more cosmo things, but I have to wonder, if it was really so damned important to me, wouldn't I be doing it somehow right now? Maybe not, I don't know, because I don't have many friends nearby here, and I certainly wouldn't have done any of that stuff in TO without my friends dragging me around... but still I try and take solace in the fact that most of that behavior was silly and empty, fun but ultimately devoid of satisfaction. I mean for every one of those steller, eye opening nights, there were three nights spent at O' Gradys playing pool and drinking lots of bad beer, or nights where we tried to do something, but nothing happened. Most of that was in first and second year, but still, it was a balance in the end. But sometimes I really worry that thats it. I'll never do crazy fun shit like that again. I mean I hold out hope for grad school wrt a fun social life, but who knows, those four years may be the only fun crazy years. The weirdest part, and it sorta dissapoints me, is that I don't have quite the taste for it. For instance last I was in Toronto, me and a bunch of friends that were all there at the same time tried to kinda relive the previous year in a weekend. We couldn't do it totally since the Dance Cave was closed and the Matador still wasn't serving and not all of us had been drinking much in the intervening year so, for instance, my tolerance sucked and I drank way too much and left the Vesta at 3AM and stumbled back to my buddies house without everyone and I guess sorta passed out in a ball on teh lawn. Because they came back and woke me up. For some reason that stuff wasn't clicking for me. But I suppose its a frequency thing and if I was doing it all the time it wouldn't faze me. That and we were all there to reunite, but the evening plans also had the effect of getting in the way of that to a degree. Oh well. All I can say is that I hope if and when I get to grad school, I'll be able to construct a social life for myself that if different from the one before, might be just as satisfying. Because truth be told, this on my own all the time shit sucks.

ok whinings done for the night.

consider joining the something awful forums, they rock

bush administration on hard times?

2005-10-25T23:40:00.000-04:00

I am a regular reader of www.drudgereport.com. In fact, out of all of the websites that I check regularly, I would have to say that drudgereport is the second most visited site in my history, after my web mail client, as I check it at least once, if not twice, a day. I don't really like Matt Drudge, he's certainly skewed, wrt his own political views, towards the conservative side of the court. What keeps me reading his website is that he simply has an amazing eye. Every time I read the page, I get all the breaking news, period, plus odd news that you'd never find on another web outlet. He has personally broken many important news cases, including the monica lewinsky scandal that so marred clinton's otherwise mostly laudatory presidency, and all with a computer an modem. In anycase, I tend to trust the site to have breaking news, though you have to read carefully as Drudge tends to post rumors, and 'developing' stories that may never ultimately become actual stories because they do not have enouth truth to them. Nonetheless, the string of drudge headlines regarding the bush administration has been very interesting indeed in the last few days. It started with one day having the flagging interest in the iraq war, the Plame scandal, the sinking miers campaign and an article about bush's wild mood swings and his tension filled white house.

today, here are few links to new stories, mostly dealing with the same topics as above, but from different media outlets:

a whole slew of Plame investigation stories, headlines by a collage of the major players and the headline: DC Guessing Game Reaches Fever Pitch

then: 'Bush tries to Revive Support for Iraq War' dealing with the growing discontent, both public and private with the Iraq Wars origins, and current events.

then: 'NYT WEDS: GROWING NUMBER OF REPUBLICANS IN SENATE OPENLY DOUBT MIERS CHANCES FOR COURT...' which is self explanatory

this coupled with the public discontent over the handling of Katrina (although I suspect in general Bush has recovered from most of the bad effects of Katrina) and general unhappiness about gas prices and the economy points to a possible 'no good, very bad day' for the bush white house. and judging from the plethora of articles coming to light about Bush's personal reactions to negative critisicm (he gets bitter, angry, petulant, righteous, to name a few reactions catalogues in various articles, most recently in the NYPOST--I know I know, it's barely better than a tabloid, but I'm going for critical mass over actual reporting veracity here) Bush may act very badly.

I don't think very specifically about each of these issues' specific and complex impact, but when I see a greater frequency of articles essenstially forcasting a dark couple months, or perhaps years, for the bush white house, originating from a generally conservative slant website, my ears perk up. It seems entirely likely that Libby and Rove will be indicted. Delay already was, we all saw his smiling picture that seems to suggest that DeLay read Frum's plea that conservatives stop posing for pictures with frowns and arms crossed.. I completely forgot to mention the 2000th death, which in un subjective reality is just another death in iraq, but for the political reality is a to-be-feared milestone which will fuel people's anger and anxiety over the war. It also seems, now, that Miers may very well not be confirmed, and this time it won't be the democrats leading the charge. The republicans, and more specifically the conservative pundits have been haranguing this choice from the start, but now that they have had a chance to question Ms. Miers, it seems that more people are unhappy with her bland and unsatisfying answers to their questions. SO think of this... what happens when you have a president who is starting the second year of his second term with record low job approval ratings, get hit with indicitements that remove two top aides, and maybe even affect his VP, have his second golden SC choice defeated loudly by his own party (all the more damaging because Bush has time and time again personally vouched for her, refered to her as the most qualified, etc... mostly because he was totally unwilling to say anything else) and continue to loose support for a war that has essentially been the entire core of his presidency so far, outside of the greater war on terror, which has largely been eclipsed both in commitment and atteniton of the public by iraq. I don't know how it all shakes out, but Bush could become a lame duck. There are major congressional elections coming up in 06' and if major groups of constituents have lost faith in the president, we may see a shift either in party seats, or positions of the incumbent republicans. I have to say that while I find each blow to the smirking Bush vindicating, I'm not sure I really want to wish a bad Lame duck presidency on all of us americans, seeing as how we have 3 years left of this guy. But then again, if we have a really bad time for the next three years, things will change next election, which would make me happy, so I guess I'm kinda pulled both ways.

in anycase, I am eagerly awaiting the results of all of these issues, and curious as to what will happen to Bush's ability to govern or pursue his second term agenda, after his administration takes embarrasing hit after hit.

The miers nomination, which seems like the only choice Bush has ever made all on his own--his advisors advised against it strongly--has turned out to be a ridiculous bungle, laughable because of the inappropriateness of Miers for the Supreme Court. She's a nice person, blah blah blah liek they all say, but at the end of it all it is absurd to say with a straigh face that she is the most qualified person for the job. I don't want a conservative wacko, but I can recognize that alot of those conservative pundits' favorite picks are vastly more qualified for the position than Ms. Miers.

ah well. thats enough incoherent political rambling. Lets just say I await Bushie's downfall with bated breath, and I only hope that he doesn't fall so hard that he takes the rest of the country with him.

I think I might have inhaled you, I can feel you behind my eyes

2005-10-25T09:50:00.000-04:00

it's funny how things tend to work. After all that self-pity in the last couple posts, after all my desperation in the last couple days over whether I'd find a job soon enough to make my next car payment, I get a job. Even more interesting, it's back in baltimore, so I'll be moving back to maryland, from ohio. And I might even be able to keep the residency intact, provided I do the right thin vis-a-vis tax returns. It's the ideal job for me at the moment; it's working for an architecture firm, I'll be learning autoCAD, helping with graphics, taking photos, measuring sites, doing all kinds of things really, and the pay's better than what I had last year, plus a stipend to purchase healthcare. And my employers, who I have known for quite some time, have no problem with me going to school in june. I still feel like it might all dissapear if I say to much about it or rely on it too much right now, so thats all I'm gonna say.

but I am over the hump. It took me about a year or so to get over college, to turn my focus from each day to the future, but I feel so much more focused and cohoerent now. I'm not scattered all the time like I was last year. So after all the mediocre melodrama that I post, things seem to be going well this time.

cheers.

none of it went way

2005-10-23T23:17:00.000-04:00

it's posting goodness today at heartland expres--I mean translplant, as I didn't loose my two previous posts, they just got swallowed into the nether of teh internets for an unspecified amount of time and then they appeared! so two for the price of one, I like that sound!

Well, We Built Another World (I had a bad bad time tonight) pt. I

2005-10-23T22:25:00.001-04:00

I've been switing the tracks of my job search once again the last couple weeks, focusing it and refining it, pointing it towards what I'd like to be doing. Problem is, I'm becoming more convinced that at this juncture, I simply won't be able to get that, what I want. But this puts me back in a bad spot. I'm going to wake up tomorrow, face the job search once again. But I'm lost again. The elation I had this last couple weeks, after that good meeting I had two weeks ago has evaporated. I don't feel collected or focused anymore, I've been focusing on something that is mostly an impossibility, and so I have to go back and redefine. I don't have much to redefine on though. Go after a construction job? I desperately do not want to work construction again, I don't have much time to offer, and I haven't developed good contacts for the industry out here. I feel like I'm waking up in a place I don't know, where I don't know any people, and I'm supposed to walk off and pull off this caper, except I don't know where, or how, or when. I keep thinking that I really should just try and get part time jobs, maybe working at a local coffee shop and video store, or the book store. They won't pay well, and that'll make it a tight fit with my stupid car and it's stupid car payments, but I feel so aimless calling up random executives, to whom I have nothing directly to offer and trying to wangle myself a middle road job at a mediocre middle road place just so I can get half a 30 grand salary and maybe health benefits.

Why did I move here again? For the chance at 8 grand? Is that 8 grand even worth this? I could have made 4 grand in the two months I've been unemployed, instead of going 2 grand more into debt, so so far this choice has cost me a net amount of 6 grand. Another month of no work and car payments, and the uncertain 8 grand will no longer be a savings, just a breaking even. I shouldn't think of it this way. The best part: if I end up working construction, and I just might, although honestly I'm not even sure who would hire me out here, it will be just like took a two month, boring ass vacation from my old job, except now I'll be new again, making equal or less money, and working on less prestigious projects in a place that is colder than baltimore in the winter. What the fuck is the gain in that? really. on the other hand, if I got a job in a coffee shop or a video store: I'd make dick all money, I'd be jittery all the time from the free coffee, I'd have to deal with annoying customers from this whitebread town, but I'd meet people that were sorta nearish my age, I'd get free coffee, free video rentals, and there wouldn't be an expectation that I'd be around too long. There would be little responsibility, and little need to agonize. It'd be boring, but construction would be boring, sitting in an office park at a computer trying to clean a virus off a coworkers computer would be boring. Maybe it wouldn't be that boring. you'd see different people all day, and you wouldn't have to wear a shirt and tie. it'd be two minutes from where you live. YOU MIGHT EVEN MEET GIRL

Well, We Built Another World (I had a bad bad time tonight) pt. II

2005-10-23T22:25:00.000-04:00

goddamn. I just wrote this long ass post in the blog window, and by accident hit some hotkey and it tried to post it and then didn't and deleted the whole goddamned thing. I'm not even going to try and replicate the whole thing, it was mostly stream of consious. but that totally takes the steam outta me for the next half hour.

it was mostly just complaining anyway, so maybe the arbitrary computer demons that just fucked me were doing me a favor.

I still need a job, and am sorta having to redefine my search. it's going to be two months soon, with nothing but 3 grand in the hole to show for it. It's so galling to borrow money, just so you can have a bad time with it. I mean if I was borrowing it so I could booze it up at the matador or buy nice dinners or something that'd be one thing. but to use it to pay my car loan while my car sits unused in the driveway and to buy starbucks to keep me awake while I sit around and do nothing but make useless phone calls, it's sorta galling. so far, this move is not proving to have been a good idea. I'm really starting to think that I should have just stuck it out in my old shitty job and just hung all my hopes on getting into arch school. I made it through a tough winter and summer, so I coulda hacked another winter and spring of it. It would have sucked, but this sucks too, and I'm not making any money. and I'm in a place where I know no one, so whereas before I saw friends too infrequently, not I just don't see them at all. oh and another thing about before and after, my job sucked, but it kept me in shape, and now I'm just getting all loose and weak again. I feel like I am lower in the world than I was in August, and I honestly didn't think that was possible.

oops I ended up just complaining again. oh well that's what a stupid blog is for anyway.

hope things are going better for my friends than they are for me. I know they are for some, but others are doing worse, so I guess I'm in the middle again. that whole, there's always somone stupider/smarter than you adage.

this rocks

Dynamic Calories

2005-10-18T09:29:00.000-04:00

I actually got some comments last time, one from chas, who is ever the dutiful reader, and a nice anonymos one, followed by this one:

Anonymous said...
Great Blog! Ilike it.But here you can find woman looking for sexTake a look if you have a minute. Thanks and have a good one!

8:25 PM

wow! cool! Cheating Housewives. As an english major I have to say that really the website should be called 'women looking for sex' since the site loudly proclaims the following:

Here are 120,000 cheating wives yearning for a sex affair

Fuck love, these bangin ass coochies just want sex! That is definitely enough cheating wives to justify the use of the plural, women.

things are chuggin along in ohioland, maybe I'll be employed soon, and maybe in the proper field, but since I just wrote that, I'm sure I will be forced to eat my words and work as a male stripper, which is going to be progressively harder since my grandmother's cooking plus my sedentary lifestyle is doing unthinkable things to my once-svuelte waistline (ha I kid, it was never svuelte.)

I have to say on the case of Caught in the Traps v. Im over here now (sic), I easily find for the defendant. The offending post should be removed, and if the plaintiff was intelligent, he might consider biting his tongue, cancelling his useless harangue against a nice woman who has nothing to do with him, and abandoning his silly interest in offending people. it may have had a place in high school, maybe even in parts of college, but it is not a behavior that will endear him to many as he continues to age. Hell, I know this ain't gonna happen, but if he was really smart, he might consider an apology. sorry, it was a silly inside college joke that has nothing to do with you, etc. oh well enought about that. (on a side note it does appear the post was edited to have the nasty stuff removed. what remains is just critisism of how the star organizes it's business section, and while it's not a topic that matters much to me, it doesn't have to, and isn't gross offending for the sake of offending.)

k done with the moralizing. LOLZ!!!!11

Talked to a friend who's traversing the distance between Irkutsk and Moscow by train, and WHAT A RIDE SHE's HAD! sounds like lots of 'fines' to keep the policia happy, and good scenery. maybe a samovar or two in the dining car. maybe not.

Also, The contents of Karl Rove's Garage (pronounced GAIR-AIGE)
dudes, of course he doesn't have time to organize his garage! he's busy outing CIA operatives and fighting indictments... I think if, somehow miraculously, these guys all got indictied and had to resign, they should make a reality TV show of all of them. It can just be them drinking Jim Bean and playing Poker. Rove, Cheney, DeLay, Frist, maybe throw a bush daughter in for some skin and Harriet Miers as the chiding schoolmarm... I don't know, could be good! along these lines, Leave It TO BUSH! (good indie music, weird dialogue. first and third are best,although theyu do a good cosby impersonation in the middle)

rediscovered Naughty By Nature's Hip Hop Hooray after seeing Ellen Degeneres dancing to it the other day on public access (don't ask why I was watching that. I don't know) Great song. brings back memories of being a pretend wigger kid in 4th grade, listening to the Hip Hop/R&B station and making shitty mixtapes. It does me as kinda funny that good ol gay as all get out Ellen would be dancing around to this song, full of nice lyrics like 'my names grafitti written on your kitten' 'I did your partner cuz she's hot as a baker, not cuz I hate ya' etc. etc. what does all that mean, eh?

Got halfway through Ian McEwan's Atonement until I realized that the conflict revolves around a nice guy getting improperly accused of raping a 12yo little girl ( I was going to just put LG, after reading a really scary weekend web at SA that details the goings on on a pedo board, but I can't take the chance that someone would misconstrue my usage of the term as something other than a saracastic in joke that only my brother would get, and he doesn' teven read htis thing, so what am I rambling on for anyway!), at which point I sidelined it and picked up Mailer's The Naked and The Dead, which promises much violence, foul language and good ol brotherly WWII camaraderie. mmmm much better.

My poor laptop is entering it's 'twilight years' the screen ain't as bright as it used to be, the soundcard buzzes sometimes, my version of windows keeps loosing features and I can't replace them, and of course, my favorite symptom: when it has to think hard, it eventually pops the cd-rom tray out, as if it's just metaphorically lost control of it's bladder. this was kinda funny for a while, but now it happens about ever thirty minutes, and it's getting to be a tiresome little game.

updated my website, www.titusdesigns.us, to include recent projects and new resumes.

also an article in the Baltimore Sun that describes some paintings that I had a part in uncovering, (I literally uncovered them with a circ saw and a hammer, but I can't claim it was my idea. I was just the, uhh, muscle.)

that's it for now. need to discover topics to write about instead of this lazy recounting of the mundane features of my life.

take care.

I know no one reads this anymore, but what the hell.

2005-09-19T16:18:00.000-04:00

yeah I haven't written shit here for ages. Not going to make excuses, didn't have anything interesting to say, and I'm not sure that I do now, either, except that now I'm even more bored than I was before, so I'm hopeing that this might be useful for those times, once I am employed again, when you need to goof at your computer, or something like that anyway.

so anyway, I quite my job as a construction laborer and moved to Hudson Ohio to live with my grandparents. Yes, I know, HOW EXCITING. it's a really whitebread affluent community of protestant ex-CEOs of Fortune 500 Companies. In anycase, my grandparents are actually quite cool, if one can use that word to describe one's grandparents; they look and act about twenty years younger than they are, and they have a nice house on a nice property. They're keeping in line.

The rationale here was to move to ohio in advance of going to the University of Cincinnati for a four year co-op masters in architecture. I would move here in advance in order to get in state status, so that when I went to school, I would get my tuition halved, so unlike toronto, where I paid twice as much as everyone else, I'd be paying half as much. I figured since this degree is going to be on my shoulders to finance, might as well make it as cheap as possible--sorry mom and pops that I didn't work at that angle before, I guess I really am a selfish person... haha. in anycase, all of this is a bit in the clouds at the moment, I'm not sure I'll qualify for the instate status, I don't have a job yet, I haven't even taken my GREs, let alone applied to bloody schools, so you could say that i'm trying to act confident in order to make it happen, or whatever.

I remember when I was complaining about how something wasn't fun to my mom when I was little, she responded by saying, well wait until you're an adult, being an adult is about doing stuff you don't want to do all the time. I'm starting to think there might be more truth than sarcasm to that... but thats being melodramatic I suppose.

listening to sufjan stevens, rogue wave, bloc party. good stuff. miss the dance cave and the occaisonal house club, but that stuff is starting to feel old as well. last trip I made to toronto was expensive, exhausting and weird and I decided that I wasn't going to go back for a while. I think I'm going to hold to that, despite the fact that I live only 6 hours away now, instead of 9.

I've started to play world of warcraft to kill time in the evenings, although thats going to have to share time with GRE books now, which will be kinda lame but perhaps necsarry.

I'm reading smilla's sense of snow for the second time. it's by peter hoeg (e with umlaut) and it's very good.

I had a nightmarish two days of AV instalation with my grandfather, perhaps I'll expand on that in a nother post, because it's rather comical.

I got offered a job today: If I accepted I would get to sit in a garage behind a strip mall by myself, for 8-9 bucks an hour, and use a nail gun to put old shipping pallets back together. for eight hours. there would be no boss, and I could play music if I wanted to. but eight hours of wooden shipping pallets. and if productivity was good, he might give me a raise. I declined. Thanks, but no thanks. I might have to take something like that, but not yet, not just yet. I think of it as a House of Mirth situation. Lily Bart can't make herself marry for conveinince in the beginning, but she gets more and more desperate as she ages and becomes less attractive. So I figure when I hit the Lily Bart late twenties of my job search I'll start seriously thinking about working in coffee shops and jiffy lubes, but until then I'm going to pretend like there was a reason I went to University beyond having a checkmark on paper. HA!!!

this is a hilarious personal essay I found on Date.com or lavalife or something, it's gotta be a russian chick. she's pretty hot, but boy to deal with this grammar:

"I the young and nice woman. I love an active image of life. I like sports and rest on a nature. I want amicable and large family. I love children. I am able to prepare. The present men."

you could really read a lot into that. 'rest on a nature'? wow. at least she's honest, unilke all of the other phonies out there: she just likes the image of an active life, doesn't matter if it's really active.

To end on a light note: I saved a boatload on my car insurance! No really, and it wasn't with Gieco, just by moving 800 bucks dropped off my policy. I guess people drive like shit in MD or something. who knew!

I spent the next five years playing hide and go suck as her vampire cabana boy

2005-05-27T09:40:00.000-04:00

aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhgurgle. I stayed home from work today. Every since I picked my brother up from his school in michigan, oh, about a month ago, I have been sick. Mostly cold kind of symptoms that fade out like they're going away and then rear their ugly little heads a few days later, crushing my relief. The most pernicious of the symptoms, and the most worrying, is the sore throat, the very symptom that convinced to call my boss at 6AM in his car and let him know that I would not be present today to wear a respirator and impact hammer masonry shit out of walls all day. He was fine with the whole thing, I mean after all, this is memorial day weekend (this means that I'm off work for the next 4 days) . So now I'm at home, writing shit in this blog thing and waiting on my appt. time at the doctors.

This desicion of mine has likely complicated a few things for my brother; his college girlfriend is here, and the family is supposed to all be safely at work, wink wink. Of course, of the family members to be home, I'm a good one, because I don't care if they screw their brains out, I just don't want to be privvy to it, whereas my mother and father both care very much whether or not they're screwing and also do not want to be privvy to it. 1-1 vs. 0-2 I win. in anycase, I have to be careful as I stalk around the house sniffling in my boxers, lest I disturb something that should be left undisturbed.

I am trying to decide whether to go biking today. About two weeks I purchased a nice mountain bike on ebay so that I could tag along with my brother when he goes off xc riding. I've gone once so far, and excepting the part where I ended up throwing up because i couldn't breathe, it was really awsome. My bike didn't fit real well at first, but after about 150 USD of part upgrades, I have finally have the handlebars and stem high enough and long enough to fit my rather unorthadox frame (body, not bike). Heres a pic of what it looked like when I reveived it. it's purrrrdy.

It is fantastic excersize, as while you are riding you feel ok, and excited, but the minute you stop and get off the biike, it's like a ten pount maul is slammed on your chest and you collapse. My case is worsened by the fact that I have been smoking, regularly, for about two+ years now. The good news is that after my fun breating experience on monday biking, I've decided to show cigarettes the door, and have started to quit. Now I'm only four days in, so I'm not going to make any blustery statements like 'I'm totally off those fags now!' butI went from smoking about half a pack a day, with the help of my mother, down to no more than one or two. I made it through the entire construction work day yesterday without nic fitting or bumming a cigarette from anyone, which for me is an acheivement, because without smokes, the jobsite is a much much harder thing to endure. I have a semi-developed theory about what cigarettes are to me that I thought up over the last couple days. I have always operated on a sort or incentive/reward system. Which means that I balance hardship or things that make me unhappy by looking forward to good things, or treating myself. So for instance when I'm not very happy, I buy a lot of stupid materialistic shit, because it gives me momentary jolts of small happiness, etc. thats nothing new, shopping therapy. but for the same reason that when I get a coffee it's a treat, but a soda is mundane, smoking a cigarette is a treat to me. It feels good, it allows you to set aside whatever it is you are doing and relax, calm down just sort of step outside of the normal world. I started smoking when I was in a pretty bad place back in school, and have kinda used it in the same way ever since. In the construction stuff, it was a way to break up the day into little pieces and sorta refresh myself every so often. I've noticed this week, while I've been trying to be commited to quitting, that my stupid boring tasks are so much harder to deal with now. Part of it is probably being on edge from wanting nicotine, but as well, now there is this sense when I'm doing some task that I don't like of there being nothing to break it up, nothing to look forward to. Middle of a wednesday afternoon, on a ladder covered in dust and pounding into a wall with a too-heavy tool, sucking dust, knowing that you're going to be doing this for the next three hours, and the next two days, and that theres nothing to break that up, or make it better. It's been a challenge. I should find employment where I don't have to mentally wrestle with myself all day not to quit. the question 'what the fuck are you doing here, doing this for?' scrolls across the inside of my skull like a marquee board. I don't have an answer to it either, the closest I've come is laziness, or apathy or fear of the next or the unknown, but thats all kind of vague. how can you hate something so much during the day that when you are at home you don't do anything to change it? I'm glad I stayed home today, even if it does cost me 96 dollars.

p.s. a music recommendation to pass on for El Fongarino. when i was in toronto last, he played me this badass underground rap album from MF Doom and Madlib. And it is certainly badass.

hot or cold, hot or cold?

2005-05-24T20:57:00.000-04:00

hot music vids:

First one: satisfaction by benny somone. I've used all the construction equipment in this video, except the tamper. but the girls are so so so hot.

second one: call on me by some other dude. catchy club tune, hot hot hot. who says the eighties were all bad?

third: hear my name by armand van helden. waspy chicks spanking everyone and breathing heavy! sign me up!

thats all for now. you can tell I don't get out much, eh?

and what can I get for ten dollah, anyting you want!

2005-05-16T17:48:00.000-04:00

wow, I haven't put anything on here in like three months. I won't make excuses, I was bored of it a bit, and I was being to whiney and melodamatic, and whenever I actually notice myself being that way, I cut my self off.

still rocking the carhartts and doing construction. I've been working six day weeks actually because for better or worse I purchased a nine hudred USD mountain bike on ebay a week or two ago, and I need to figure out how to pay for it. it's a 2k4 Klein Attitude XV, which as it turns out is a totally sweet bike. I'm excited.

check out the artist M.I.A. If you like the idea of a really good looking sri lankan girl beating sean paul and his cronies at their own game on the dancehall floor, all while adding lyrics about terrorism and gold diggers in a dizzie-rascal-esque british brogue, than this may be for you. As the pitchfork guy, or the guy pretending to be a pitchfork guy said, Roll over and die Britney, this is the new pop, and IT ROCKS. yeah.

Read the moviegoer, at Rory's behest, and it was very good. I can see why he likes it, the main character liteally is talking to a person named rory, so his name is all over that book. but it's a good image of like middleclass suburban malaise, the kind of life full of money but nothing else, and the search, as the character calls it, which I read as something philosohpical or metaphysical. I'm starting into In Cold Blood, and it's really good so far, though I'm only about 20 pages in.

I got very angry at my boss a couple weeks ago and told him to fuck off, to let me finish what I was doing and called him a condscending prick. well luckily the guy had a sense of humor about it. and he really was being a condescending prick, which I think he realized, so I didn't get in any trouble, but I noticed today that there is a new bit of art on the bathroom wall. it's a picture of my boss with a dictionary in his lap, looking up condescending, and instead of condescending it's conner-sending. I finally made the wall! and not in a bad context! whoever made that is a clever dude. I think it must be an electrician.

I worked over the weekend with this 50ish carpenter dude down on his luck, and he started out his introductory speech when he met me about how bad his day had been. He hd seen his neice, who looked like a runway model, in his brother's stolen truck. she was strung out on heroin and this guy called the cops and got her locked up but he felt kinda bad because she was his neice and stuff, but since she was pregnant it was probably better that she was off the heroin in jail, because when it was just the one year old, that was ok, but pregnant isn't so good, and you know what man? she is so hot, damn, and I mean theres nothing she wouldn't do for me for some heroin, [wink]. [shudder on my part.] scumbag. and that was just the beginning, he went on to describe his numerous drug expereinces and at one point he's talking about smoking hash in europe, so I lamely ask 'were you in amsterdam?' and he goes 'heh, no, but surpsrisingly I was with this amsterdam whore once and I was going down on her and I stopped and asked about how much I should pay and she said John, you don't have to pay me anything I feel so good, just keep doing that and I did!' [shudder, again]. I mean wow. I'm not a prude or anything, and I'm really really fucking wide open compared to the conservative dudes I work with, but this was kinda too much. I mean to tell me about how he fucks his neice in exhange for heroin and then his story about giving head to a amsterdam whore, who was really 'perty' by the way, just seemed a little too open. Who knows, maybe I'm really gullible and this guys likes to spin tales. But he did this shit all day, and did it in front of everyone, and he got fired from his last two jobs for drugs, which is why he is now a temp carpenter, so I'm inclined to believe him.

in quick summary of my life ordinaire in baltimore, nothign much has changed. I picked my brother up in mich from school, saw wolf eyes (sucked) and animal collective (partially sucked due to loud noises) and have been uhh, doing not much else in my spare time. I still go to my guitar lessons, I still clean my room most sundays, I still smoke and I have switched from the winter scotch to spring and summer vodka tonics and gin and tonics. breezy times. the weather is awsome, my house looks like a botanical garden, thanks to my wacky parents, and I'm starting to make some mild headway against my terrible fincancial habits. Alex Orwin will be in DC at the end of may, and Rory will be back in TO in late June early July.

on a happy note, I am off friday to go to ohio to see my great-great-aunt who is turning 100 on saturday. fantastic. I saw her a month ago at a funeral and she's sharp as a tack. knows exactly what my brother and I are doing, even though we are not close relations, and creepily has a picture of me and my ex girlfriend from like three years ago. I have no idea how she got it. it was in one of those grandma rooms that are nothing but wall to wall pictures. It kinda made me feel bad, but not for long. It's weird, I mostly don't think about that girl at all anymore, but everyonce and a while she'll just be there in my head and it will be like that song that you can't get out of your head. can be kinda annoying at work where it sucks. oh well, TO THE FUTURE EVERYONE!

also heard a new bit of slang for a homosexual on the jobsite; they call 'em Swordfighters (ex. Conor: Bill is so gay it hurts. Chad: Yep, he's definitely a swordfigher. he just doesn't know it yet.)

which reminds me of some hilarious stories from teh salon that go to here, in the gayborhood, but I'll save that for later...

shit is funny yo

2005-02-28T20:45:00.000-05:00

no, not actually. I was going to write a post or something, but I'm kinda fucking tired and out of steam, and I really just wanted the blog to republish itself so I could see if it added a picture.

was in new haven visiting with mike, adrienne, ben and morrie. good times. went out for a job and didn't get it. I imagine that in the next couple months I'll go out for some more and not get them, meanwhile my current employment is sucking the marrow from my bones, and any ounce of good humours from my pancreas. it's a beautiful world out there tonight, but I'm not in it.

erratacism

2005-02-08T17:36:00.000-05:00

"Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me." --moby dick, by melville.

I often want to knock the hats off passersby, in a metaphorical sense.

'Is this superbowl weeekend?' 'yeah.' 'Good, the traffic will be down.'

2005-02-05T10:58:00.000-05:00

I tend to have involved daydreams. I often daydream about sucess amidst the banality of regular life; becoming incredibly efficient and inspired and learned and making incredible sums of money, living in fabulous places, having incredible romances. Like anyone's daydreams, they probably all function as sort of problem-solving salves to facets of my life that my subconcious feels is lacking. When I say they are 'involved', I mean it in the sense that I don't daydream being rich, or powerful or in a fantastic relationship, I daydream my way to that point, because as far as entertainment goes, it's the part where you get to the happy ending, not the happy ending, that is interesting.

For instance, two days ago, I was given a truly unfortunate task at work. That task was to climb up the six storey scaffold, enter the east attic with a large rubbermaid brute trashcan, and effect the removal of all the detritus that has been created thus far by roof-raising projects, wall demolition, and various other debris making activities. It doesn't seem that bad at first, when you look at it that way, but the process is incredibly complicated by the fact that there is a team of framers (wooden structure roofer guys from pennsyltuckey) who are enthusiasticly 'encapsulating' all of the debris under a new roof about two feet off of the floor, and the fact that each load of debris, be it granite chunks, bricks or spent marlboro boxes, must be loaded into another bucket on the scaffold landing, lowered down to ground level on a well wheel, and then loaded into yet antother bucket to be hauled to the dumpster. Since I am the only one in my particular company on this particular jobsite who is classified as a labourer, the entire process is up to me to complete. So I have to crawl under the new roof on my stomach, in the dust and in the dark, avoid perferating my skull on the huge nails that are sticking through the new tongue-and-groove boards above, grab as many pieces of brick as I can carry with one arm, slither my way out, put it in the bucket, lower it by hand, tramp down the scaffold stairs, load the new bucket into another new bucket, sling it over my shoulder, and slog through the muddy snow to the dumpster at the front of the site. Then I repeat the whole process about fifty times. In order to keep sane, I spend a good part of the beginning having intense fantasies about murdering my superiors, or gaining super powers that will allow me to pulverize all of the debris into dust, and then throw it to the wind.

These fantasies aren't very detailed though, and both are higly improbable, so I end up going back to my standard kind of daydreams. The one that took shape in my head that day was strange, and made me think about the nature of popular romance a bit, so I'll jot it down briefly. There is another job, one that I have applied for, that among other things, involves acting as a liason between the company and a construction company that is building their new building (a construction company, that ironically, is the same company I work for now, but that is of no moment for my daydream). The new building's wooden structure is being built by a Amish Barn-raiser named Aeiff (this part is completely true, and based in fact.). My daydream starts with me being hired for that job. This is my brain answering my brain's constant complaining about my current activity; I escape to greener pastures and am incredibly good in a new job. right. Part of my job is dealing with the construction of this new building, and in that process, I get to know Aeiff. Now Aeiff doesn't drive, being amish, and so at the end of every workweek, he needs someone to drive him back to his quaint farm in Lancaster, PA. I, being interested in the Amish, and ever the good-samaritian (remember, I'm making all this shit up in my head, so of course, I'd be a perfect citizen) offer to give Aieff a ride back to Lancaster every week. In the process I get to know him, and after many conversations with him over his corncob pipe, once He is sufficiently satisfied that I am a good person, albeit a gentile (this may be incorrect, I know that mormons refer to all non-believers christian, jewish and islamic alike as gentiles, but I don't know if the amish do, but you know what I mean) he invites me for dinner. He lives in a perfect movie version of amish life, and the dinner is amazing. His daughter is also amazing. I think you see where I am going with this. I borrows images from that Harrison Ford movie The Witness for this part of my daydream, mostly for what his daughter looks like and how the family is. What ensues is some kind of romance, fraught with cultural difficulties and tough descions. The dream gets hazy at this point, because I'm almost at the completion of it, entertainment wise, and so I stop manufacturing it at a through pace. I don't really know how it ends up, since I didn't end it; I tend to leave all of my daydreams open at the end, with a suggestion about what wil l happen but not a concrete resolution.

But the daydream got me thinking, once again, about the nature of popular romance, or popular romantics. When I run romances in my head, they are often like formulaic romance movies, or stories, because again, I'm doing it for my own entertainment. You couldn't sell a romance movie where each partner treats each other really well, and the entire movie they communicate properly and buy each other ties and flowers and nice dinners. No one would watch it, it'd be boring. Those little old Jewish Ladies who come to the pikesville library every week with a cardboar box of romance novels to return and refill would run screaming back to park heights if in those books the Scottish Lord courted the fiesty and independent, yet trapped by the strictures of her times heroine, took her home to his castle on the moors, and impregnated her happily, creating a lot of noble scottish children, and taking part in a few hunting parties. There has to be kidnappings, conflicts. The characters have to hate each other at one point, in order for their love to be trully realized and shining amid the contrast. At the same time, the characters cannot trully be terrible people for it to be the most satisfying romance. They have to both be people who deserve romance, and so it is necesarry for every conflict to be created by misunderstanding, sometimes un-aided, but also sometimes created by a nefarious lesser character who for reasons of their own does not wish love to prevail.

It makes me think then, if people nowadays (in the general sense) who will not read or watch something about love that works normally, can possibly enjoy relationships in their own lives without noncommunication, or misunderstanding. If all they find interesting is conflict that better illuminates how real a couple's love is for each other, how can they be interested in a relationship that isn't filled with the cinematic ups and downs that are so common as to be cliche in a movie or a book? If their girlfriend wakes them up everymorning with breakfast in bed or a blow-job, or their husband comes home everynight with different flowers, or chocolates, what does any of it mean, if there is no bad to compare it to? Where is the incredibly frantic last minute chase scene in the airport, or the quasi-embarrising protestation of their love in front of a crowd of callow and snide New Yorkers? How often does a person feel strongly enough about a relationship they're in to actually sacrifice something, or on a lesser scale, to do something socially embarrasing for their love? Lotta questions and no answers, but I'm just thinking here.

Back to cinema examples, take The Bridget Jones books and movies. I've not read the books, so I'm just going to talk on the movies, and in fact, I haven't seen the second movie, and only watched the first one beause of some girl, much the same reason that I've seen most seasons of Sex in the City, but I think the movies will still illustrate my point. In the first movie, Bridget, who is supposed to be a regular girl, and so the actress who plays her, renee zellweger, had to gain 20 or 50 pounds so that women would identify with her more, needs a man. As the movie plays out, she has a choice of two: Her asshole boss, hugh grant, is one choice, and he's zany, fun, rich but also unreliable and will probably hurt her, and a uptight lawyer, colin firth, who is a nice, upstanding citizen but has about as much charisma as al gore. She ends up making the responsible choice, and what seems like the right choice at the end of the movie and goes for the subdued but really nice lawyer with the reindeer sweater. Fine. The second one comes out, and I haven't seen it mind you, but I read the tagline and synopsis. Her relationship with the lawyer isn't going so well. He's a conservative voter, and he probably likes to read the newspaper all day saturday, instead of taking her for romantic boat rides in thames. The old boss shows up a bit on teh scene, and the choice is back on! Boring and reliable, or fantasticly handsome and debonair with a air of uncertainty. I don't know how she chooses, I imagine that stays with the lawyer, because people can't really stomach a main character who is a bad person, but here we have an example of all the stupid conflict shit that is necesarry to cement a regular relationship for the bridget jones character.

For more on this subject see those two remy arcand movies, the decline of the american empire, and the barbarian invasions. They are by no means an indepth look into the relationships of men and women, but they do hit on some real interesting points. that and they're funny and sexy and french, or quebecois rather.

Mine's Not a High Horse

2005-02-02T16:44:00.000-05:00

so to update from my last post on the Lee Chavez Incident:

The newest epithet posted on the latrine wall:

"On Weekends, Lee enjoys filling in as stunt double for Michael Jackson in Gay Porn."

The author has started to incorprate more complex sentence structure, and references to pop culture, his taste evolves.

Lee, obstensibly, has written the following below this new comment, which is situated directly above the plastic urinal bucket thing:

"Reggie, Instead of writing nasty comments on the wall, why don't you be a man and talk to my face about this."

I'm assuming it's Lee, since he is the object of all the nasty comments, but no one signed it, so it could have been put there by an imposter.

The only other people who receive a nasty time of it in the Latrines are the Mexicanos. There have not been, as of yet, any comments directly maligning our latino brethren, but there will be poems on the wall like the following:

"Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Here is a Mexican Dish Served up for YOU!" with an arrow pointind down into the absolutely disgusting bowl (As a sidenote, I have to say that I think I can probably handle any awful bathroom situation as I have become accustomed to the terribleness that is our work outhouses, and I can't imagine much that would top them in terms of absolute filth). Other comments, such as "Mexican Soda Straw" are listed with arrows pointing to the exhaust stack that comes out of the toilet's tank, "Mexican Breath Mint" pointing to the Urinal Cakes, and so on and so forth.

I have been thinking lately, that if all else fails, I'll hit the road, maybe Route 66 for six months and write and photograph a coffee table book about the inscriptions that one can find on bathroom walls. You know, stop at truck stops, gas stations and public toilets and chronical a little slice of the gutter level of societys creative impulse. Sure there'd be a lot of "If you want a good time call..." and "Mary is a filthy whore" but hidden between this detritus, you might find little bits of hidden profundity, and perhaps, GASP, original thought. But then again this project would involve frequenting gas station restrooms for six months, and I'm not sure I'm up to that. I'll leave the road to kerowhaCK! I know, it's not spelled correctly, I'm not gonna look it up.

Cryptonomicon, by Neal Stephenson, is an absolutely fantastic book. I've read it before, but it's just as good this time, and I honestly can't remember enough details about the plot to ruin the story for me a second time.

Also, a messege for Charles: I think that due to the overwhelming Dr. Patrick content of your blog, you should rightly change the name from Caught in the Traps, to The Julian Files. Your prose is solid gold, and you have to understand that writing must be a part of your working future, else you will not be happy, but if you don't start spenting brainpower on a subject other than Julian Patrick soon, you too, will one day admit to being the mother of a child.

That's all.

oh, how I Love you, in the evening, when you are sleeping.

2005-02-01T17:14:00.000-05:00

rush rush rush rush. no, I like to take things slow, sometimes. slow hands, if you will.

I've begun to learn how to play Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect on my classical guitar, which is satisfying a little. I keep rereading books I've already read, which while a safe bet, is also kind of moving backwards. I try and reread books that reward further readings, and hope that at least in that, I can say that, you know, I'm getting more stuff out of them or something. I mean isn't that what aeriodite people do, reread books hundreds of times?

I broke my wooden hammer last week, and replaced it at Sears, as they have a hammer for a hammer policy. So I handed over my worn wooden hammer, with Thor branded on the side, and picked up a metal hammer with a rubber grip. I liked my old hammer better, but this new one is heavier, so it's basically more useful to me, because honestly, a big guy like me can't be seen plinking away at shit with a dinky little 16 ouncer.

As always nothing really changes around here, things are mostly the same. I'm working on something that may change all that, but I'm not going to talk about that just yet, as I don't want to jinx myself too much, and I don't want it in the public memory yet. ha! what public. The area I live in is populated with only jewish people, and around here, that means I'm outside the circle. It's either hot jappy girls, or frumpy regular girls, and I'm totally outside their gene pool, so I don't register. I know that's not really true or anything, but I'm going to pretend it is, for now.

I cleaned my room really well this weekend, as I do most weekends, as my sunday cleansing ritual. coupled with a shower and lots of laundry, it adds up to a lot of cleansing.

Now for something construction related. there was an InTouch in the booth at lunch, leftover from the female security guards at night. I looked like a fag (please pardong me, any people of the gay persuasion, I simply use the term to explain what they'd call me for reading a celeb magazine.) for reading it, but I'll be damned if I'm going to read carroll county times again. and they had huge sections on debunking or confirming celebrity rumors. mostly stuff like is so and so fucking so and so, and how. but they had really weird shit too like "Does Mariah Carey think Maryiln Monroe is Haunting her Piano?" the verdict? NO. it's so terrible the stuff in that magazine, or the hundreds of others like it. It's like a really base form of human existence. How is Jennifer Coping, does she need 'alone' time, did Brad cheat? How is she going to fill her giagantic room/shower in their Mansion?

Also, the company we use for plumbing and ductwork has been having trouble finding plumbing work recently, so they have a bunch of plumber dudes who don't really have work. Well Lee, the 'Lead Plumber' had them all sent down to the basilica to help the ductmen, which in the eyes of the plumbers is only slightly better than being laid off.

So anyway, these plumbers are mighty pissed at having to work with the scum-sucking, fuckbrains that are the ductment. So one of them starts to write nasty epithets in the port-o-johns or whatever to the effect of "Lee is a no good mother fucker." "Fuck Lee and his mother" "Lee likes to blow men" etc. The guy comes and exchanges the spot-a-pots for new ones, well no sooner than he leaves there are new things up on the walls. The first reads:" It's a new pot, but Lee is still a no good gay ass motherfucker." Lee has a Mrs. Chavez somewhere, but we never hear about her, so his sexuality is still mostly in the air to me, but unlike another guy on the site, who lives with a "roomate" named Jim, and is nearing 50, who comes in the morning complaining about how much is ass hurts, Lee has never given any sign of being either homosexual, or as the rest of the comments say, a no good motherfucker. well maybe he's a bit of a no good motherfucker, but thats besides the point, almost everyone that works there is a no good motherfucker, except me of course, obviously.

Anyway, my real bone to pick here (uhh really I didn't intend any puns or anything) is with the second, new, comment. It reads something like this: "Lee likes to Lick manly Giant Cock and rub hairy balls on his gum." Now there is a slight problem with this statment, if you assume two things: a.) it was written out of malice, and not stating a happy fact, and b.) the author was a contruction worker. This is because, if it is meant as an insult, it very neatly insults every macho motherfucker on the job, which pretty much includes everyone, again, except for me. obviously.

Lee likes to suck 'manly' cock, but doesn't that imply that they guy getting his cock sucked is both manly and gay? I suppose not, because as in John Water's movie, Pecker, where a strip-club dancer is caught by his parents tea-bagging a gay man and defends himself by saying "Mom, I'm not Gay, I'm Trade; Queers blow me!" one may get a blowjob from a man and not technically want to fuck them or whatever, but it's one of those grey areas I've never really figured out, or wanted to figure out, for that matter. That aside, the author of the comment is associating the quality of being manly with being homosexual, not exlcusively, but he is at least admitting to the idea that men may be manly and homosexual, a concept that is really outside of the average construction worker's mental capacity. Manly men enjoy blowjobs from the lead plumber. Am I stretching this too far? I don't know.

oh that professor patrick

2005-01-15T20:05:00.000-05:00

in keeping with charle's recording of professor patrick quotes, I have something to add. not quotes, but my own notes from a session of his fourth year english seminar on renaissance lit; mimesis and representation. I found it in a notebook I am using for my career coaching:

holy shit. Nurmeen Lives! that goth girl just made a sad clown face, she looks so sad. why? I suppose I look like that but moreso of a harried, tired look. exasperated, rundown. For no really good reason. This girl is two people. Dr. Patrick. I wonder if he uses that honorific... somehow, I doubt it.
I wish I could videotape this shit. It would be funny to watch later, high, or something.

so much theory in this class, so little meat and potatoes. Holy Shit. active and inactive. HOORAY!!!!
LIFE ON EARTH IS JUST A DEATH SENTENCE!
this is so ridiculous (scratched out stuff) BUZZWORDS
full of sound and fury , but signifying nothing fucking drama students. Nicely done though.

then I tallied how many times patrick used the following three words:
Subjectivity: 7
Division: 6
Representation: 7

Later I find a list of words, presumably used in class, that I find somewhat overused for no purpose. I think I added some of my own to the end:

divisions, doublness, tropes, pastiche, authorship, representation, subjectivity, mimesis, exegisis, tautology, doctrinaire, platitude, ideology, idyllic, prosaic, banality, provincial (with the funny french c thing), gastronomic, dyspeptic, charry, to aver, defenstration, high society, the "good" life, practicing to die, wanting to die, a little bit.

I don't really know what that was, but that is what I did in college, instead of learn. jesus. HAHAHA.

we spies, we slow hands

2005-01-15T16:40:00.000-05:00

I almost killed myself the other day. by accident, mind you. I was tasked with getting power to a capstan winch installed on the scaffolding outside. The nearest power source to this was across the building in the basement, since the electricians had killed all of the existing power and replaced it with temporary power stations. umm yeah. so I was working on this, threading an 100 ft. extension cord through the various arches of the undercroft. I had decided to use an old metal conduit rack to help string the extension cord up with, since it was already there and way off the floor. The temporary light strings were also using this rack, and as I was tugging my cord through the whole business, a connection in the temporary line came apart (they plug together with standard male/female connectors). Since it looked like a regular mail end plug, and stupidly assumed that it wasn't live, and as I reached to grab it to replace it in its proper place, the "female slot," it fell and struck the metal conduit. The conduit kinda exploded in my face, there was a big zap crash sound, and a huge hole was burned into the metal. I was kinda stunned, although I hadn't been hit with anything, but the funny part is that at the other end of the conduit, there were two junior electricians fucking around with some temp breakers, and they didn't really know what they were doing, so they were worried the whole time. Then theres this huge spark/explosion/sound thing and the one guy goes "Rossy! SHIT! I knew we shouldn't have fucked with that, you said it wasn't hot man!" "Hey, it wasn't, I'm sure, I don't know what happened" I looked down at them, and sheepishly let them know that, no, they hadn't fucked up, I had. Everything else plugged back in properly, and a few breaker switches later, the capstan winch was running again.

Went to a cool bar downtown the other night called Brewer's Art and then an ethiopean restaurant. The bar was pretty swank, and they had really good beer, called Resurrection Lager, for two bucks a pint, which was a really nice price for beer that was that good. I was in the upstairs, but they have a cool cave like bar below where all the messenger bikers apparently hang out. Will have to check it out at some point. The ethiopean was good, although I'm not sure I really like eating with my hands all that much. As well, I had to sit through about three cliche jokes about ethiopean food, things like "haha look! theres nothing on the plates." yes, that oldie but goodie. Spent all day crusing around with my parents and our older friend from the Annex in Toronto, who is in town for her great nephew's bris or something. We ended up in Hamden, antique shopping, which was fine, and I got cruised by some chainsmoking antique dealer, I think.

I spent all of friday at work hauling really old dusty trash out of the building in a trash bucket, and placing it in a dumpster. really captivating. I need a life [sigh].

oh girl, you have no faith in medicine

2005-01-11T17:36:00.000-05:00

funny tidbit about where I live:
http://www.baltimoresun.com/business/realestate/bal-re.sudbrook02jan02,1,2182539.story?ctrack=1&cset=true

nothing really changes much, except I'm becoming more austere with myself and have tried/decided to make the following changes:

*I've stopped smoking at the job. (this was going well for a week, until today, which sucked, and I broke and bought smokes)
*I'm taking the metro into work everyday. this will save gas for two reasons; one, I won't be driving very far during the week, and two, they parking attendant downtown who has been siphoning my gas daily will no longer be able to do so.
*I take a thermos, and some boring morning snack with me from the house, as well as pack my lunch, so as to save more money. oh yes. While this greatly decreases the excitement and quality of my day, it will save me upwards of 100USD a month, or more.

we'll see if this frees up any more money, because i owe like a bunch of people and places a bazillion dollars and shit, and shit's getting me down, yo.

my mom jokingly bought me a duct tape wallet that is a canadian flag, which of course is so fucking funny, but I thought, it's just so crazy it might work... and I mean it's ridicuolous garishness doesn't hurt. It is also a conversation starter, with a cute arts-student-cashier asking me if I am a canadian , and the gas-siphoning parking attendent wacko thinking that I had a pretty swank british flag on my wallet. I was going to correct him, but then I thought, well they do have the damed queen on their money, and they say things all funny, and there are parking signs in halifax that say by order of her royal highness on them, so fuck it, they can be british too. yay commonwealth!

I've been reading "Under the Banner of Heaven," which is the most recent krakauher book (I know I speel badly, fuck you). It's fantastic. Mormons are so incredibly weird. if you know any, please point and make pod people noises when you see them, as they belong to a fast growing spiritual cancer. oh that was perhaps too harsh, sure there are nice mormons too, and the book is mostly about morman fundamentalists, who take as 'spiritual lives' 13 years old nieces because they think they're cute and 'god sent them a revalation' but as a faith, they believe in some really weird shit. but then again, if you think about it in that way, so does every other religion, they've just crawled out of some ancient darkness, so they trick us into thinking they make more sense. I mean excuse me, why, when I am born, am I bad, sinning person. Fuck that original sin shit.

new bands/albums that have been keeping me alive:
Interpol's newest; Antics. Wilco;Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, A Ghost is Born. Spoon. The New Pornographers. Both Weakerthans albums, though I really like Left and Leaving better. Decemberists. Anything by the Wrens. As always, Alpha. The new Franz Ferdinand, or should I say the only, is good, although I guess I'm way way behind the curve on that one. Death Cab for Cutie is fantastic, as is the splinterfaction Postal Service. Elliot Smith for when I want to feel really miserable. The Get Up Kids keep keeping me smiling (thanks for that one Reta). Starting to get into Nick Drake, not that I wasn't before, but I hadn't really heard his music. Guided by Voices (thanks Brent, and really, Brent's responsible for the Decemberists). trying out a band called British Sea Power, who seem pretty good, but I have to get used to the lead singer, theres kinda an unfortunate nick cave thing going on with him. Dismemberment Plan. My brother hooked me up with a bunch of these bands, so heres to you kid.

thats all for now. the muse has left me.

as my friend alan used to say; sleep tight.

I'm a loner dottie, a rebel.

2005-01-02T11:33:00.000-05:00

I went out with some friends from high school and their girlfriends on New Years. It was fine, although I couldn't shake the fifth wheel feeling all night. We went to Outback Steakhouse, which in the suburbs seems to take the place of a real restuarant in people's minds. Since there are no real restaurants, or real places in the suburbs--all has been artificially created within the last ten years to resemble a whitewashed, drywall version of a real place in a nice part of a city somewhere, except with much wider roads to accomadate all of the gigantic cars--people have happily accepted places like The Outback Steakhouse, or The Macaroni Grill, or any one of the fifteen or so other non-fast-food restuarant chains that are ubiquitous here as a 'good' place to go on a special occaision. They charge more than normal, and they are very busy, which gives people the impression that what they supply is necesarrily in high demand, and since it is in high demand, it must, of course, be good. We went there on New Years Eve, so we had to wait, which is no surprise, but what is a surprise, is that after calling an three hours before we wanted dinner, we still had to wait for an hour and a half outside for a table. Once we had a table, the waiter plyed us with his greasy smile and we ordered course upon course of fried foods. I think by the end we had all, the five of us, eaten about half of what we'd ordered. To further enhance the dining experience, we had patrons on either side of us who were dressed in sweatpants and shirts that had things like "I heart Grumpy Men" and "Sean Jean Sweat Shirt Co." When I finally got out of that place, I felt like I had been carefully stuffed with cotton by little cotton-dwarves. The rest of the evening was more or less uneventful--train rides, fireworks, more train rides, and my bed.

also, I watched Gigli the other night, and boy are my wings tired. All I can say is: Turkeytime. what? Gobble Gobble.
truly on of the most terrible movies I've ever seen.

swords to plowshares (this title signifies nothing)

2004-12-09T21:16:00.000-05:00

Arrrrr says:
thats the problem with gift certificates
Arrrrr says:
they are a naked gift
make it rain says:
yeah they are a money amount
make it rain says:
I hate getting gift certificates
Arrrrr says:
the value behind a present is more abstract
make it rain says:
or giving them
Arrrrr says:
because regardless of how much it costs if it works it works
make it rain says:
or like, when you graduate, and someone gives you a personal check for like 20 bucks
Arrrrr says:
yea
make it rain says:
they're like go buy yourself a couple value meals and celebrate!
Arrrrr says:
haha
make it rain says:
like I'd almost like it better if they just got me a nice card
Arrrrr says:
yea
make it rain says:
because to get a piddly amount like 20 is just kinda a statement
make it rain says:
we had to give you something, but we don't know you that well, so we can't give you that much
make it rain says:
whatever, what does it really matter anyway, right?
Arrrrr says:
money is such a delicate subject
make it rain says:
people like blood sausage
Arrrrr says:
weird...
Arrrrr says:
people are dumb
make it rain says:
indeed.
make it rain says:
they are cretins.
make it rain says:
CLOSE TO HEAVEN, I"M CRUSHED IN THE GATE
make it rain says:
something about apple makes me want to puke
make it rain says:
they are so smug now
Arrrrr says:
haha
Arrrrr says:
i know what that something is
make it rain says:
their fucking apple store with their apple geeks and their 'genius bar'
Arrrrr says:
they practically say "you love us" and the worst part is its true
make it rain says:
yeah
make it rain says:
have you seen the genius bar though?
Arrrrr says:
no
make it rain says:
the whole store is like this ridiculous celebration of total geekdom, and the genius bar is the main party
make it rain says:
it's a counter, with this neat blue genius bar logo over it, and when you come in with a tech problem, say an ipod that is being a bitch, they usher you over to this counter saying, come over to the genius bar and we'll troubleshoot there
make it rain says:
and then some pimply faced teenager with a tag that reads Resident Genius: Ted on it attempts to solve your probloem
Arrrrr says:
lol
make it rain says:
I'm sorry, but since when was being computer savvy on a macintosh something that classified you as a genius
Arrrrr says:
haha itd be funny if they wouldnt help you until you addressed them as genius
Arrrrr says:
its all about making your employess feel better about what they are
Arrrrr says:
apple has their geniuses
make it rain says:
I mean isn't the whole damn point that apples are so much simpler and more user friendly than PCs
Arrrrr says:
home depot has their certified house hardware technicians...
make it rain says:
so why would you have to be a genius to troubleshoot them?
Arrrrr says:
also knows as, plumbing isle guy
make it rain says:
yeah that's a whole other gripe...
make it rain says:
fucking home depot.
Arrrrr says:
hehe
make it rain says:
now that I'm a construction worker, I'm obliged to look down on the 'specialists' of home depot as weekend warriors.
make it rain says:
home depot is usually pretty decent though, I guess
Arrrrr says:
im not a construction worker and i look down on them
Arrrrr says:
not for what they are
make it rain says:
they don't rub me the wrong way like the apple store does.
Arrrrr says:
but for their made up names
Arrrrr says:
wtf is wrong with being a salesman, or floor guy
Arrrrr says:
its their fucking job
Arrrrr says:
its like company encouraged shame
make it rain says:
theres something about the apple store where it's llike a hot car model, they don't have to care because this shit sells it self, and aren't we so proud of this cool shit, and let's price it to the moon, because, HEY THIS SHIT SELLS IT SELF
Arrrrr says:
haha
Arrrrr says:
and you hate them because its true
make it rain says:
heh I bet on their timesheets thei're still refered to as floorstaff
Arrrrr says:
its all about that really smart kid who knows hes smart and flaunts it
Arrrrr says:
you could hate them less if there was something fundamentally untrue
make it rain says:
'no sir, I'm not floorstaff per se, I mean I work in carpeting, which technically goes ont he floor, but I'm a carpeting and floor covering home renovation specialist, with a minor in flossing'
Arrrrr says:
hehe
make it rain says:
except that's just it, there is something fundamentally untrue
Arrrrr says:
well technically there isnt though, not with apple anyway
make it rain says:
those total geekazoids are caressing g4s at home instead of girlfriends.
Arrrrr says:
well thats untrue
make it rain says:
and I realize I shouldnt' talk at this point in time
Arrrrr says:
but they dont even care about that
make it rain says:
are you so sure
Arrrrr says:
what im saying is that, their product is just that solid
make it rain says:
they all have big geek chips on their shoulders, and they probably all hate popular kids and kids with backwards baseball caps
make it rain says:
and I do to , but for different reasons
Arrrrr says:
yea yea i agree with that
make it rain says:
just that solid, eh?
Arrrrr says:
you know it is
Arrrrr says:
just like i hate that smug bastard at the hotcake store
Arrrrr says:
he's just always selling out...
make it rain says:
I don't want a fucking mac man, so as far as I'm concerned, it's not just that solid
Arrrrr says:
ok back it up, im just really talking about the ipod here
make it rain says:
and they're so cash hungry, they used to be a like careing company or something, haha that's kinda dumb, but anyway
Arrrrr says:
i dont want to get into macs themselves
Arrrrr says:
i know dick about macs
Arrrrr says:
they were never caring
Arrrrr says:
they just had to look like it since they didnt win
make it rain says:
yeah they were all like neat and nice dudes
make it rain says:
hahaha
Arrrrr says:
it was the second place
Arrrrr says:
1st place went to microsoft
Arrrrr says:
consollation you get to be the nice loser
make it rain says:
yeah, but still they used to be really nice on customer support, and I shouldn't be saying this since they just replaced my ipod no questions asked, but they completely blew me off the first time around, and I tried them like 10 times
Arrrrr says:
microsoft had to live with being cutthroat and evil.. but them trillions of dollars are their own reward
make it rain says:
yes but even with 37 millions dollars bill gates still has to wake up and deal with the fact that he's bill gates, and that he will always be the ultra rich super dork in the eyes of the world, no matter how much money he and his father funnel into philantropy.
make it rain says:
eh getting diffuse here
Arrrrr says:
whatever you know he was going to be a dork
Arrrrr says:
it was just a choice between being a dork that noone new, or a super dork with more money than some countries
Arrrrr says:
i mean i doubt there was ever a true juncture at which he had to make such a clear choice
Arrrrr says:
but it amounts to that anyway
Arrrrr says:
that is unless of course he signed some kind of satanist pact
Arrrrr says:
in which case there was a very real defined juncture
Arrrrr says:
i dont think it would be a bad analogy to think of corporations as cats
Arrrrr says:
some are more affectionate and seem nicer, but in the end all cats are doing it for themselves
Arrrrr says:
fuckin fatcats...
make it rain says:
word
Arrrrr says:
FIGHT THE MAN

at an emotional end, but not a wit's end

2004-12-05T01:53:00.000-05:00

Wow. Holy shit. To my right is a book on a book stand. The pages open are pages 86 and 87. they are entitled, at the top of the page, where books list their chapter titles, ‘Questions; Living a life you love.’ On the page are various bullet points in the form or questions, ‘designed’ to help you narrow your career futures. ‘Predictability’. ‘Variety’, ‘Time Management’, ‘Security’, ‘Preparation for Retirement’, ‘Portability’, ‘Degree of Continuing Challenge’. Those are the Headings on the page. Jesus. And I’m not even religious. This is from a book, which is from a program that cost about three thousand dollars in the ever-flagging American currency. And I mean, this program hasn’t even sent my bullshit detectors off, dectors who I have always egotistically assumed to be fairly competent.

I don’t even know anymore really. I’m not depressed. I was for a time before, but I’ve not been since I’ve been back. I’m restless, I’m disappointed, terribly disappointed. Misappointed. I can’t stand the endless the box stores, the endless bric-a-brac of suburban life. But I can’t stand other life either, the rigors of any other life. What is this? I drive to run an errand., buy some stuff for work, and I am hopelessly demoralized. It’s the traffic, the congestion. The endless proliferation of SUV’s. And not even so much the SUVs, but rather the state of the people driving them that the SUVs suggest. Where the fuck do I fit into this silly world? Where the fuck will I ever be comfortable? I am a gifted, and fortunate person. I was blessed with a good intelligence at birth, given a suite of unassailable opportunities by my parents. And while I have not squandered those opportunities per se, I have nonetheless, not found a place, as in mind, as in locale, in which to reside and contribute. I am a resource sucker. I give nothing back to this world, right now. I am selfish. I know this. I am also helpful and selfless. How does this compute? How do I reconcile this. Why am I not happy? I have had good times, I have had a good education, good friends, even sometimes, good girlfriends. What am I doing wrong. I have kept everything in perspective by thinking of a calvin and hobbes cartoon. Calvin is assigned a undesirable task by his father and asks why, his father responds ‘it builds character’. I have been using that as a mainstay; no matter what, this is adding to your compsite character. But I have to come to grips with this question: What if I’m not building character, but bitterness? I mean, yes, lifting stones endlessly may in once sense make you a stronger person, but if that is what you always do. Wouldn’t that also make you bitter?

I am a most fault. I let myself fall into this, I didn’t stop it either. I will probably fester in this for a while, until I either make myself become something different, or I don’t. Either way I am disappointed. I’ve seen what we have to look forward to. I went to a neighbors party tonight. It was all older people than I. They had their ugly sweaters on, and their receding hair, and they all looked uncomfortable, even though in reality they were having a good time. The only people who seemed to be having a true good time were the black women, and blacks always seem to be more alive, despite whatever fucked adversity they are forced to deal with for being black. I spilled some red wine on the carpet, ruining a conversation I was having with the host about rap music. I was alone in that party. They were older. It’s always that way now. I don’t mean to whine. My social life, at the moment, is my parents’. What a sad state of affairs. I Imagined something different, but what?

Why can’t I just accept things, why can’t I just shrink back? I told rory this one time, that once you open yourself to things greater—this was in response to a conversation about the general unhappieness of philosophers—you often find yourselves distressed with life in general. And this is not to say that I am conversing with something greater, but I guess I’ll throw my modesty to the side. Nothing satisfies my taste here; things are too gutter, too working class, or too bland middle class. People see money as the end, and we will die for it.

I can’t find women to love. I’ve loved women, seriously and terribly, but now, I am stricken alone. And I know some day, some where, something will just click. But I’m so sick of being a romantic, and such a cynic at heart for years running.

I’m sick of feeling helpless, literally sick. I hate feeling a huge number of things, but when I feel utterly helpless faced with some adversity, I honestly want to cease to exist, to become unconscious. I wish I knew some answers so that I could proceed, I wish I could believe in a God with my whole heart, or have some spirituality so that I could explain everything else away.

I’m so self indulgent, so egoist, and yet modest, and the three feed into each other to create a vicious circle. I’m a ‘good guy’ because it makes me sleep better, not because I believe a god wants it so.

No dinner, just booze all night long. Stay away from it kids, really I’m crying.

Living in Oblivion

2004-11-25T10:08:00.000-05:00

In Hudson Ohio for Thanksgiving. It took us close to 10 hours to make a 6 hour trip. it was fun.

another day, another half dollar

2004-11-21T17:41:00.000-05:00

things were boring last week, and I managed to lock a set of important keys inside a decaying apartment building, and they were the only keys that would fit that building, and the archdioscese didn't have any spares. This must have seemed like it was an action perpetrated in revenge, because prior to my losing the keys, I had been struggling with the shopvac--filled to brim with insulation, but I didn't know that yet--and was lamenting the fact, in my head, that I had become a construction worker only to vacuume offices. At least the office was in the middle of being demolished. But so I had gotten this shop vac out of the east attic, which can only be accessed from the roof, I had wrapped and twirled up the various cords and hoses as best I could and dragged it around the roof, almost falling to my death a few times (that's an exaggeration, OSHA, I swear!). Dennis was on the scaffold, and the idea of trying to move that vac down the stairs was impssoble, and there was a well wheel, so , you know i used it. The entire time I lowered the vac, I was plagued with the everpresent mental images of throwing myself from these great heights, these images that always appear to me. I've thought about it, and it's not a suicidal urge or something, but rather some kind of bizarre phobia that has been with me my entire life; I used to be terrifically scared of heights, to the point where when I went with my family to prettyboy resevoir dam I would run around bent over, so as not to see over the edge. I was able to surmount my fear of hights, because what it was I experienced was not vertigo, but rather as I would near and edge, see the bottom of the canyon, river, whatever, my mind would flood with looping images of me free falling through space, me running and launching my self, me flying. Problem was, all of this great flying imagery was seconded by lots of hard hitting, splat stuff, and that was what my fear of heights derived from. I don't know, perhaps this happens to lots of people, but it still happens to me, I just sorta ignore it, and avoide spending too much time looking down. but so I got the shop-vac down, and hauled it around two city blocks to that office in the condemed apartment office building that the archdioscese desperately wants to explode so that they can have a better view of the mount vernon park center, but can't quite justify destroying since it would cost them close to 2 million dollars in tax credits from the historic registry or something. I got that damned vac into the office, with the sole key to the building, and in a move that foreshadows how horrible my old age will be, I placed the keys on the table, instead of thinking to put them into my pants pocket. well teh duct cowboys, who have been looking at everything that is not chained down on teh jobsite with great hunger, borrowed the vac previously, and now it most certainly could not suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, not like it's little 6 horse power engine used to. well that kind pisses me off, so I leave to find some kind of authority figure to complain to--as a new guy, you aren't expected to be competent or intelligent, though I am generally both, and so if you desire to waste time, you can look for various bosses to solve a problem that you could easily solve yourself, and in the process waste 15 minutes walking around and not thinking abotu stuff and etc. Except in this case, my little time wasting maneuver was in fact a bad idea, since I left the keys. I was crowned noodlehead king by george, and chad told me to stand on teh corner and think about what I'd done wrong. He was joking, but then again, I ended up standing on the corner waiting for them later to find tools to BandE the building with. I somewhat redeemd myself by pointing how with and adjustable wrence and a big screwdriver we could break in through the front door without breaking windows or calling locksmiths, but they still made me feel that the the latter half of last week.

Since I am in american now, thanksgiving is next week. That is a good thing, mostly, and I am greatly pleased that I only have to work 3 days to get paid for 5 this week. very good. too bad it involves a long car drive to suburban ohio, i'd much rather spend my time off boozing in toronto at einsteins and the dance cave, but it's not a choice for me to make.

listen to the wrens, they are good. they are also from new jersey.

suicide pt. one

2004-11-21T17:37:00.000-05:00

**I dug up some stuff on my Hard Drive from a bunch of years ago. This is one part of a High School assignment where we were to tell the same story in three different writing styles. This one was supposed to be a rough copy of David Foster Wallace (Infinite Jest, Supposedly Fun Things We'll Never Do Again) and Thomas Pynchon (The Crying of Lot 49, Gravity's Rainbow). I'm not sure how sucessful I was, but this was certainly the best of the three pieces, and it was the most fun to write. I wish they'd had us do this kind of shit in college, maybe I would have been proud of the fact that I was an english major, but then again... Probably not. So, the first suicide thing. and yes, it's supposed to be really badly puncuated and stuff.

David Benson had never thought of himself as suicidal, but then he had also never bargained on loosing his expensive job, his partner / wife and his N.Y., N.Y. pound-extracted mutt of a dog. And from up here, none of that mattered was what he would have been thinking, had a single coherent thought really been occupying space in his head. Instead, 50 stories up, peering onto the Hudson and the N.J. crackling towers by the turnpike that seemed as much a landmark in The City as the Statue of, well, Liberty, Dave, or Mr. D. Benson, as his x-employer at the firm had called him, was finally ready to end it, end his troubled life and go that route that so many had gone before him. The Cables of the bridge were humming in a malignant, nightmarish way, and David B. thought that he could perhaps maybe possibly see vague goatish figures capering (or more likely running, as nothing in this city truly capers) around one of the parks partially hidden by the immense city eating shadows that the skyscrapers created.
And but so the point is that Dave’s probably going to jump and hit the water at an extremely high speed, turning him from the highly invested in and educated piece of flesh that he is to just another mashed thing in the N.Y.C. morgue, chilling and waiting for his Westchester-residing family to I.D. the vaguely Dave Benson-like pieces that would sit coldly on the plastic. Dave thought about his reasons, remembering the old vacations to The Camp in Maine, N.E., U.S.A., and remembering how much more gratifying it was to pull crabs out of the low-tide seaweed than it was to close deals and SELL THAT STOCK, as all his training classes and mentors had urged. At this point, to be perfectly honest, he doesn’t, like, even care frankly about his fucking wife and her issues. Goddamn dog was never really any good anyway, its previous owner would beat it methodically and keep it tied up for days, and that kind of aftermath was something that D. Benson and his posh but shallow 20th floor apartment wouldn’t mix with, and well come to think of it, that apartment would have been pretty good to jump from. Hell, to tell the truth, it wasn’t even a choice, really, though. Thinking things incredibly fast, Dave just tilted, tilted towards the edge and it was done, he was away. Dave, like most human beings wasn’t meant to fly and his descent was almost spectacular to say something because the wall-street shirt bought at a nice store that he can’t remember is like flowing out behind him like some kind of white expensive fucking flag, and the sound is just down right strange as the usual bustling metro-rush-hour bridge honkings and screeches fade into a dull roar that fills his ears and he notices that his eyelids won’t stay shut and there is a queer sensation, not to use the word queer in any homosexual sense because that would go against the polite distrust that Dave B. had for gays, as he feels his body sort of peel and fold inward on it self and the colors and his boss’s office and the apartment and the fragile porcelain / plastic mix of his wife’s face and everything else about the damn City blur into blue and white streaks and Dave B.’s Body’s motions look oddly choreographed as he fades towards the water and finally as if to say enough already, he just hits the water with this hideous and horrendous and fucking huge slapping sound, sending practically Surfing waves away from him as he brokenly descends to mingle with the oysters, aborted babies and muck that inhabits the bottom of the Hudson, earning himself a notch on the Old Suicide rate and fading politely from everyone’s memory.

heh.

2004-11-16T17:15:00.000-05:00

Conor, I find your blog to be a refreshing mix of on the job hazards, Death Cab for Cutie lyrics, and pictures that I can't seem to download. It's the next best thing to being there!

that is more than I EVER COULD HAVE HOPED. IF I BECOME HOMOSEXUAL AND GAY MARRIAGE IS ALLOWED I WOULD MARRY YOU.

this is a song that is long and prolific

2004-11-15T21:49:00.000-05:00

hmm. I just recalled that my buddy charles has started a blog. He is way funnier than I, so I suggest you check him out at his blog. He's incredbily prolific and he makes me fell silly, but then again, I have a suspicion that he has a thousand word a second monolgue constantly running in his head at all times, so this is probably a theraputic activity for him.

I should have known...

2004-11-15T21:21:00.000-05:00

well it happened, and so fast! I haven't updated this silly thing. chalk it up to a combination of being tired all the time, a perpetual lazy streak, and a terribly uneventful last couple weeks made up of carrying granite a lot and sleeping a lot. I haven't even been able to use my car much since my dad's saab died once again and my job just so happens to be near a metro stop... ah well.

one interesting thing did happen at work a little while ago. I was taking out one of the infinite wheelbarrow loads of granite that I've moved in the last couple weeks, and I had to haul it from the basement of the basilica, completely around the jobsite and through the street to this alley, where I was supposed to stack it. I pulled into the fenced in alley, and noticed that something weird was going on at the bottom of the alley. Charles Street, which if it were in Toronto would be kinda podunk, but since it's in baltimore is a fairly big deal street is at the bottom of the alley, and a portion of the alley is unfenced so that the parking garage can still use its alley exit sometimes. But right beyond that is our fence, topped by barbed wire, and backed up by my boss's 7 ton F-350 extended cab behemouth darth vader truck. so in anycase, I'm trying to move this wheelbarrow into place when I notice that theres a shitty toyota at the bottom of the alley with it's door open and engine running. Then I notice that right behind that there are three cop cars, all pulled hastily in behind it with cops pouring forth like mad hornets. Then I notice that theres a dishelveled dude with long greasy hair sprinting up the alley with a bag cluched in his hand. He kinda attempts to surmount the fence, but isn't too sucessful, and about five cops grap him and subdue him on the concrete--use your imagination, it involved nightsticks because the dude was flailing around. At one point one of the cops laughed out loud and said "boy, you sure picked the wrong alley fella." Turns out the guy robbed a bank downtown and tried to escape, but was pretty much an idiot for a.) robbing a bank in an area with congested traffic, speed limits of 35 MPH, and about as many cops as people on the streets, and b.) the obvious mistake of turning up an alley that is a dead end. It was like a cartoon. We all had a good laugh, until one of the religous reformed ex-cons who works in the basement mentioned that when he robbed a bank, he did so with a clicque of dudes, and they through the money off the bridge. That kinda shut us up. But he loves jesus now, so that means he MUST BE ALLRIGHT! HEY BIG GUY!.

His partner in crime--ahem I mean partner in the LORD-- came up to me the other day and asked me point blank, "Hey Big guy, Who is the Redeemer?" I looked at him funny, knowing the answer he wanted to hear, and instead responded "For who? You?" and he shook his head and said "For all of us Man!." I said, "Well let me guess.... ... .. I know! JEsus!" "You See!" he said "I just did you a great service" and he walked away. My boss walked up to me, looked at me kinda funny and said, "You just been thumped man."

Also--Randy, the asshole dude I mentioned earlier, I have decided is the Baltimore embodiment of Appleton City's very own CLIFF YABLONSKI! (http://www.somethingawful.com/cliff/ihateyou/) He told George, my boss that he used to be a terrible drunk, and one time, after waking up in jail, he decided that he would quit drinking so that his son wouldn't think him a horrible piece of shit. I guess he failed terribly, but the electritian foreman made a salient point--maybe he was a really nice guy when drunk, and now that he's sober all the time, he's a terrible asshole. maybe.

I've noticed that he takes a shit in the port-a-potty everyday smoking a cigar with the door open. Really nice that he does that. Also, he regaled us with a story about how he tortures moonies and hare chrinsnas. When he sees moonies he apparently gets out of his car and stamps on their flowers while spewing curses, and there was this one time, so he says, that he was behind a bunch of hare chrishnas in the supermarket. THey were apparently going "HMMM HMM HMMM" and Cliff, er Randy, started ramming them from behind with his shopping cart. Apparently their HMMMMs simply increased in fervor.

I have tons of carhart apparell, and now, after a trip to visit my brother in Anne Arbor, I'm sporting a Wolverines Hat. Funny how I don't have any real UofT Apparel. oh well, I'm not crying. so I guess I'm kinda construction looking, which is good.

heres my favorite quote from king lear, which seems to have dissapeared from my book collection, along with most of my other shakespeare texts:

What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
Their going hence, even as their coming hither;
Ripeness is all: come on.

I'm taking guitar lessons and progessing. I look forward to the day that I can take the stage at einstiens and actually play a song. that would be fun, I think.

until the next time, sleep tight, as my old friend alan used to say.

Psychotic American

2004-10-30T13:20:00.000-04:00

We Looked Like Giants

2004-10-30T01:08:00.000-04:00

God bless the daylight, the sugary smell of springtime
remembering when you were mine in a still suburban town

When every Thursday, I'd brave those mountain passes
and you'd skip your early classes and we'd learn how our bodies worked

God damn the black night, with all its foul temptations
I've become what I always hated when I was with you then

We looked like giants in the back of my grey subcompact
fumbling to make contact as the others slept inside
and together there in a shroud of frost, the mountain air
began to pass through every pane of weathered glass
and I held you closer than anyone would ever get

Do You Remember the J.A.M.C. and reading aloud from magazines
I don't know about you but I swear on my name they could smell it on me
But I've never been to good with secrets... ohh...

Oh together there in a shroud of frost, the mountain air
began to pass through every pane of weathered glass
and I held you closer...

I like this song. maybe it's because I'm lonely and I miss things. oh well.

tomorrow, I do my laundry, I clean up. today, I just sleep. yeah. right.

too tired really

2004-10-27T21:30:00.000-04:00

I'm too tired really to write much of anything interesting--as if anything I write is interesting, har har--and not too much really exciting happened today. I finished my hole, which while immediately personally gratifying, seems kinda small potatoes now. I think I can stand this job though, since I really hated the last two days and for some reason don't dread going in the morning. I suppose that's good then. yeah. I want to see I heart Huckabees, but that's hardly an original statement. I'm about a week away from leering and shouting stuff at every woman that crosses in front of the job, that's how infective those fucking guys are.

What sounds really really good now, as opposed to watching nip/tuck, is a big glass of water, my trashy sci fi novel, and my warm bed, and god damn it, I'm going to have it. I hope everyone is moderately happy or improving, and I hope to see some of my friends soon.

ZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

my new best friend, and worst enemy

2004-10-26T17:41:00.000-04:00

meet my new arm/nemesis: The Hilti TE 55

I've been chained to this 15 pound bastard for the last two days, and while it awsomely beats the little bosch hammer gun that I had to use before, it also threatens to break my wrists and cover me in concrete and asbestos. but oh well, it's fun to play with these overpowered toys. It somewhat makes up for whatever is bad about a given task, although not terribly. I thought I should also mention that I own a 2004 Honda Element, for which I have not yet paid... but that's ok, I have a 0 percent loan for the next 5 years from the dealer. man, I used to hate this thing, but it's quite possibly my favorite thing in my life right now. I;'ve even forgotten--though not totally--about things like percoset, and sex, and girls. in that order. people either love or hate it, but it's full of so many nice touches and abilities, and drives like a dream while still geting a respectable amount of milage of a tank of gas, that I'd have to say I'm well pleased with the purchase. It's also 4x4 sorta, so I can kinda drive over stuff now, which if fun. Although I'm not sure I want to take it to a construction site, since those dudes all drive F-250, 350s.

oh well nothing really interesting happened to me today, it was much like yesterday, except with heavier tools and harder to crack materials. I made a dusty mess out of the main altar, where the pope and mother teresa have done shit. oh yes.

til another time, this is bloody work

fightin the battle of who could care less.

2004-10-25T16:58:00.000-04:00

day five, second week. I didn't update last week, because I didn't want to. I don't really want to now, but I'm going to do it anyway because I want to try and use this thing a little bit.

first off-- I'm working in the Basilica, and the power tool that I have had most contact with is Bosch Hammer-Drill. Now we also have Hilti and DeWalt Hammer Drills, but they are much more badass and larger, and so up to now, I have only had access to the little guy. I am told that I will be able to use the Hilti tomorrow though, since my current task is becoming increasingly impossible and dangerous with the little bosch hammer thingy. I spent essentially all of today after morning break cuting a hole in the ceiling of the crypt/vault place under the alter. Basically I'm demo-ing a portion of ceiling that the pope has stood on while doing a service and delivering delicious eucharist… mmmm good. The plaster was simple and fell off, but the two layers of vaulted brick took me the entire day to chip through and as I reached what was supposed to be a ‘void’ under the marble, i.e. a big empty pocket space, it turned out that instead of a void, I instead had a foot of two hundred year old concrete and asbestos laden pipes to deal with. So my boss of bosses revived the plan, tomorrow I get to actually sit on the alter, while poor catholic worshipers are trying to pray up front, and drill a shitload of holes down through the marble and into the room below, where I was working. This is a. very cool to be doing this kind of stuff in that kind of place and b. great because none of the stuff will be dropping all over my head, face and body. It was great fun because I needed a mask to combat the hundreds of plaster, concrete and brick particles I was creating, and then also a hard hat to deal with the falling bricks, and then safety classes to protect against the aforesaid dust. That was all well and good, and I was thankful to have that shit. But I could in no way get the dust mask right so that my hot, moist breath would leave through the filter, instead of through the top and into my glasses. The result is that I was effectively blind the whole time, so I’d drop the glasses, decide which brick I was going to chip away at for a half hour, and then put the glasses back on and hammer somewhat blindly at the brick. It was really swell. Oh well enough of that.

<>There was also a time last week where I helped build the decking over the main dome opening, which is suspended 300ft above the sanctuary’s beautiful and incredibly hard green marble floor. The opening that we had to deck in was about 30ft in diameter, and while the materials were already up there, since they had had a deck before and ripped it apart, we still had to screw it all together again. My favorite part was when my immediate boss and working companion, George, decides to sit on the unfastened TGI Joists and plants himself out over open space in order to screw in a base board that is out of reach. He did not have a harness on, and I think about all I might have been able to do if the wobbly pieces of wood had fallen on their side is grab his belt… His comment about that little episode was simply “Huh, that used to be so much more fun when I was younger.”<>Then there’s Randy, the Forman for our Concrete Sub-Contractors. He’s an older guy, looks like he might be a nice old man, but don’t be fooled. I paused for about 30 seconds in between debris hauling to watch his crew pour concrete. In that time he called numerous members of his crew ‘silly fucking cunts’ and ‘dumb fuck coons.’ Then he saw me watching and yelled something more or less indistinguishable but involved lots of ‘you stupid fucker’ and ‘don’t fucking watch me.’ Later, when I was taking a tour of the trenches with George to see the progress on the Concrete, Randy favored us with this lovely joke in front of his crew, who are entirely black: “What do you call a busload of niggers heading to hell with an empty seat? … A Goddamned Shame, that’s what! HAR HAR HAR!” His laborers just shook their heads and George and I looked really uncomfortable. He has been much more cordial to me since he found out that I can shovel, and probably likes me because I am white. I am staying away from that man. <>

As well, in the realm of racial fun, I listened to a Masonry foreman bitch about Mexicans and how useless they are for a full half hour while I was doing ‘housekeeping’ work in the basement. The construction culture, or I should say lack of culture, never ceases to amaze me. But I shouldn’t act so shocked, I mean I knew what these workers would be like, but still found it interesting at how racist they can be on a project that is being run by a black man, my ultimate onsite boss. There are a lot of bosses, or I guess I could just say that since I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, everyone is my boss. Except Randy and thank god for that. <>I’ve never worked this hard before in my life, at least not physically, and I have to admit, I kinda like it. Shout out to my sister in arms Adrianna, who toils to make some drunk Scot moderately happy. Here’s to you banana trashbag.

payday

2004-10-21T22:05:00.000-04:00

hehe. I've worked for three days on the jobsite, but I got paid. Construction workers get paid weekly apparently (sp?). enough to buy a bottle of SCOTCH! it's cheap in the u s of a.

I'm not the only living boy in new york.

mild qualification

2004-10-21T17:38:00.000-04:00

Just wanted to add one more thing. I published without reading the thing over, and when I did read it over I didn't like part of it. Lest you have the impression that I am a construction manager, or anything remotely approaching it, I am most certainly not. I am completely on the bottom, and while I am working for the company managing the overall constrcution, and therefore in charge of all of the many sub-contractors, I have no specific trade, and they could care less how well you can write when all they want you to do is move dirt around with a shovel. I'll blab about how I see construction as a paralell organization structure to the military some other time.

2004-10-21T17:12:00.000-04:00

Hmm. Where do I begin?

Well, to start with, I realize that having one of these things automatically characterizes you as a bit of a wanker, but I never keep a personal journal, so I'm going to do this instead. It won't be as personal perhaps, as a private journal, but I might *actually* update this thing once in a while, and it can hopefully chronical a bunch of stories that I might otherwise forget.

To set the stage: I didn't get a job in Toronto, like I wanted to, so I had to hightail it home to Baltimore, MD. I hadn't expected to be there, and honestly didn't want to be there, so of course I had made no plans for what to do. My meager supply of summer money quickly dwindled, despite the fact that I don't do anything in Baltimore, and it became readily apparent that I should, and more accurately, had to find a job in order to keep my relationship with my parents cordial. There was also the slightly powerful reason of being completely bored out of my mind each day, and needing to be gainfully employed in some capacity.

I'm a college graduate in an english major, but for some reason, have no inclination to try and teach english, or write in a professional sense. I guess you could say that I liked being in a major where I got grades to read good books... IN any case, I wasn't going to look into English careers. I have also worked in the Information Technology world quite a bit for someone my age who doesn't specialize it, and have done a variety of commercial webpage projects to pay for my sometimes expensive habits. You wouldn't have guessed that because I'm using a really basic blogger template, but that's not because I like it, but more because I'm tired and can't be bothered to make my own customized page right now. I liked technology work a bit, but outside of website design, I only really liked it because provided a nice paycheck. Long story short, after having worked in a variety of technology office jobs, I wanted to avoid that like the plague. That left box stores, as far as jobs I could get. I dropped off an app at REI, but somehow missed the hiring deadline--at least that's what I tell myself--by accident and didn't get offered anything. I'm getting tired of exposition though so here's what happened: My mother got me an interview with a prominent local construction company with the view to becoming a construction manager. I met with them, thought about the whole unknown enterprise, and accepted the offer.

Fast forward to today. I’m three days old on the job. They started me on The Basilica. Or, rather, The Basilica of the Assumption of Mary the Blessed Virgin, but that’s a god-awful mouthful, so you see why I want to abbreviate. It is a two hundred year old Catholic Cathedral, and in fact, it is the first Catholic Cathedral in the States. It’s a twenty million dollar project, which is fairly big, and they are redoing everything. I consider myself lucky to have been put on this as my first job, since they could have shunted me off onto some bland jobsite in the suburbs, and this one is so much more historically interesting…

<>I don’t want to have mammoth long posts, and besides, tomorrow is the last work day of the week, so I’ll write about my first week in great detail then. It will feature, hopefully, Randy, the bigoted and once-electrocuted asshole of a concrete sub foreman, my time spent on thin wood joists suspended two hundred and fifty feet above the sanctuary’s green marble floor and much fun with expensive and noisy power tools. Oh yes, also lots of dust, mud, rain and Maryland accents.

<>To be continued…

inaugeral

2004-10-21T17:08:00.000-04:00

I know I probably spelled that wrong. Just wanted to see if something would show up on my page.