In the brain... Becoming completely immersed in a project, considering every aspect of what is and what could be, exploring all the logistical and human aspects, contingency planning, nailing down critical details, being forceful when appropriate, and occasionally doing triage. Looking into the future and controlling everything. This stuff produces reliable, high-quality results. I've applied this brutal method over the years to break parts of myself so that I may grow stronger and more capable. I've honed them and honed them and grown to rely on them. This is my dominant mode. I made a list of all the qualities my ideal mate would have, then forgot about it. All of my satisfactions and successes, all the milestones of self-betterment, and the clarity of existential completeness I've found have led me down the path to not need, expect, or even think possible or advisable that the heart ought to be involved. Everything was tidy. Nothing was missing.
In the heart...
My dream girl fell from the sky.
Nothing is missing now.
A shift has happened.
Before my brain would hunt for tasty and tastier brain food so my core could feast on self-satisfaction. The hunger was often distracting, it's appetite insatiable, and with no end except unto itself. That's its nature.
The heart is quiet, the heart is still, the heart doesn't need to talk-talk-talk. If the brain is a locomotive fed by shoveled coal, blowing off steam and heat and marauding ahead, the heart is a little nuclear reactor perpetually feeding itself.
Now the amazing clockwork dynamo with it's ravenous appetite has been freed to do what it does best - take care of wicked brain business.
Now the heart is freed to do what it does best, tend to itself as a gardener tends a flower, and be dignified in that legitimacy. The heart is its own sunshine, its own water, and its own soil.
<silly> Love is stupid, love is dumb, shut up brain, 'cuz here it comes! </silly>
My body has taken to travelling again. I have found the way to make the time to visit values ones in NY and MA. I have broken out of the Troy bubble enough to love the mountains and windey roads. The wide open roads.
My lower back aches from studio construction, heavy lifting, and bending. My apetite has grown with my soreness, and I sleep soundly with the satisfaction that comes with physical accomplishment.
The scent of love and trust tickle my nostrils, but remain (still) our of reach. This blodhound knows that that it's there. The breeze speaks in fact and promise.
This lead me to re-read a bunch of my old writings on here. I noticed an unmistakable tone of low-key darkness. I consider myself pretty happy-go-lucky and optimistic and determined and non-wallowy and all that, so this caught me as a surprise. Why wasn't I perkier more often? Am I just one of the countless angsty internet blogheads wallowing in exhibitionist self-pity? (I don't think that I am one of these.) Why do I even do this? And yet, my fingers move.
So in the spirit of self-discovery through brutally honest disclosure, I dedicate the rest of this post to dedicated readers who started reading koax.org for this reason.
I moved out of my beautiful victorian apartment January first. It didn't really hit me that I was leaving it until I had finished cleaning, moved every last bit out, and had the keys in my hand to lock it up and slide the keys under the door for the very last time. It was like a near death experience of sorts. A parting. A goodbye. The memories of the past two years came rushing back in rapid succession. The memories were in the form of still-frame images and feelings. Each lingered for just a moment - just enough time for the complex details of each one to fill up my active consciousness, before the next one bumped it out of it's place and did the same. An obnoxiously impatient slide-show.
One of my last actions was to look into my own eyes in the mirror over the mantle. I realized that I hadn't given myself a good soul-searching stare in a while. It was a little uncomfortable. My face reflexively made the movements like it was looking at another person. It's amazing how automatic it has become. I was struck by both the unfamiliarity I was with my own face and the absurdity of my face moving in ways that it would move with a stranger.. feeling them out, genuine curiousity mixed with the instinct to make them feel accepted and comfortable. The face looking back was _my_ face. Too weird, too weird.
Standing there, I did a little emotional inventory of myself. This intrigue with darkness - I wonder if others are the same way. I wonder if others find wisdom in other ways. I wonder if I'll ever be satisfied without living with perpetual dissatisfaction with what is known - without a distrust of things that are accepted. Insistent curiosity is a curse? Am I sowing my oats? Is this some programmed growth mechanism that hasn't yet ebbed? Will it ever ebb? I crave simplicity and comfort, but the only simplicity and comfort I seem to be reliably capable of supplying for myself is the comfort in the self-supplying of unpredictability .. novelty .. and chaos. I wonder if I'll ever be capable of anything else. I wonder how much of this is me, and how much of it is my "path". If fate is real, then I wonder how much of this has been in store for me from the beginning of time. I've been happy in order before. I wonder if a wave of order will sweep me on into the distance. I wonder if I'll have a mate, and if so, what she'll be like. Will she share a similar masochistic curiosity? Will she have a similar darkness inside her? Or will it be more of a complementary-yet-respectfully-understanding type thing?
Re-reading that entry, I was embarassed by the words, just as I'm sure I'll be embarassed by these, looking back at them in 4 years from now.
Writing this was good. I'm glad that I did this. And I realize that it was rather tortured and dark. And I also realize that I found satisfaction in the soul-scraping involved. I do wonder though, whether or not there's another way... I
I wonder whether there's a _better_ way. I wonder how other people get here.
like a needle in a snow bank
I remember working long and hard
I remember playing
I remember babies and puppy dogs
I remember doors closing and people dying
Glad dad wasn't one
I remember trips never taken
I remember friends at the ends of strings
I remember all kinds of things
I don't remember
I remember that they didn't happen
I remember puppy dogs and toothless baby smiles
I remember self induced solitude
convinced that it was virtuous
I remember realizing that it was delusion
I remember what is important to me
..and I must continue to
I was also laid off from the job where I overachieved and overproduced - where I poured my soul into, in fact - in a tragically comic series of managerial blunders. I am once again free to pick up the pieces, and given again the responsibility to re-center and reform myself into something greater. I am 80% of the way there already, after only two months. I revamped my resume, taken to teaching myself C# (one of the hottest modern programming languages), and re-prioritized time for the people most important to me. I will be visiting many of them this holliday season.
The importance of, "having something to look forward to", and "it is not worth working if you're not working _towards_ something", are two lessons that I have been reminding myself of daily.
Also worth noting, it that I have become a c-span junkie.
Along with a buddy of mine, we have taken on a project to breathe new life into the raw industrial space of an old garment factory into art studios. This is part of a grand revitilization project for the city of Troy. There is a tremendous amount of planning involved. My main responsibility so far has been designing the floor plan of the space. It's very exciting. Hallways, lighting, studio dimensions, blueprints, feng shui, and fancy visual design elements. It's been gobbling up much of my time. I am in hog heaven. We will chronicle the progress as we go, and hopefully put together a short documentary of the project once it's completed. I will also be acquiring a large photography studio, in which I will be setting up shop in my own beloved hometown.
I am again in love with the universe.
I met a girl who excites me in the most rare and promissing way. She's got all of those Evan-admirable qualities that send shockwaves up the Rickter Scale like a strongman at one of those whack-o-meter games at a carnival.
Beauty - classic facial structure, brilliant sparkley eyes, healthy - perfectly coherent proportions, soft seductive skin, lucious feminine hair
Temprament - moderate, balanced lifestyle - a mixture of heartful compassion and a mischievous sassy streak that cute through the muddy fog of typical expressivity
Personality - a low-key, feminine version of an Evan-style nexus. A catalyst. A hypnotic, alert, unmistakable presence. She is instantly recognized as the brilliant creature that she is. Her friends are golden, and her expression is powerful and genuine.
Strength - She understands the importance of honesty and forthright communication, and has a consistently proven candor.
The chemistry between us is undeniable and electric. Animal magnetism tempered with unbridled fascination and great personal respect. While some might chalk this up to the newness of a "crush", it honestly seems greater than that. I would describe it more like jigsaw pieces that found each other to be neighbors. Like a coffee drink that it wouldn't occur to you to order, but after taking a sip on a friend's recommendation, discovering a new timelessly delicious favorite.
...but wouldn't you know it, she's taken. Gah! So I find myself with beautifully elevated standards, a necessity to express great restraint, and a compass that's directing me in no direction but one - to find out what's down this one fascinating road...
For weeks I opened the Metroland (Albany's analog to the Chronicle), postponing disbelief that this area is dead to live music. Last week I didn't open it. Resigned, I didn't. This week I did. To see that ten days ago I had missed Dale Watson perform in Troy. The city where I grew up. Troy. And Dale being the condensed essense of Austin. Dale, the swaggardly, Merle Haggardly, shot-in-the-arm infusion of Austin. The vitamin missing from my bloodstream.
There are good people here, like there are good people in Austin. Like there are good people everywhere, I am certain. The effort to draw air into my lungs, is what I question. With admitted contempt. Need it be this effortful?
Faith is a nut-scraping gut-dragging thing to have sometimes. The undercurrent of universal human nature shines though though. Shines through always. Between the universal suffering, the universal disappointment, the universal bliss that puffs us up as full as we've ever felt, the universal anger, the universal loneliness, the universal distraction, the universal confusion, the universal pomp and confidence. We're all the same underneath. This levels the game, geographically. It doesn't matter too much which city I'm in. Some just require more digging. I've got my shovel.
On a lighter note, I played the most righteous game of pool tonight. I ran into my buddy Brian at bombers. He struck up a game of pool with me. The game quickly became a mess - with balls locked up with each other and with the rails. Brian and I used to shoot back in the day before I ever left New York. Brian shot with finesse, and I shot dirty, fucking him with defense at every chance. Like two WWI soldiers digging into each other in a wet trench. Tooth and nail. The balls fell one by one, until finally it came down to one of his and one of mine. Mine was locked in a death embrace with the 8-ball deep within the left corner pocket. I cut it softly and at the only possible angle to squeak it off the side of the pocket, past the 8, and in. After that, the 8 was a dead duck.
Some situations require more of that fighting spirit than others. Albany and the pool game are much the same. I need to remember to stay in it, and keep digging - never stop fightin'.
Also, I love Long Island Iced Teas.
She drove in from Rochester on a well-timed whim and rang my doorbell. We went out for some coffee and talked. Seven years is a whole lot of imaginary jigsaw pieces to glue together about someone. We were awkward and adjusted our postures while sitting on the couch at the cafe. I caught myself smiling uncontrollably. Later on in the day we began to adjust to each other's presense and the conversation blossomed.
I cooked her dinner, I gave her a primer lesson in photography, we took some pictures of each other, and she departed.
Seven years of fascination turned enchantment over the course of one a single afternoon. Saturday was a good day.
I believe that there are many worthwhile relationships that are out there to be had that do not fall neatly into the "girlfriend/boyfriend", "friend", or "lover" category. Every person is unique, and every two-person chemical combination is even more so. There exist varying levels and flavors of compatibility. It seems a shame to evict fundamentally good people from your life because they don't fit your image of an idealized friend or (mercy me!) "soulmate". Function and dysfunction is what any relationship ought to be judged on.
I also believe that actively seeking love is folly. I don't do it. I place myself in the position to meet new people, but I withhold judgement and expectations. Everybody has something to offer. I believe that. Every person - each unique, discrete packet of humanity is wrapped in a differently shaped (or colored) package, expresses themselves differently, embodies a different temprament, and holds an almost limitless matrix of attitudes. Just like with Cracker Jacks after a little digging and lip smacking - every box contains a prize.
Except for the most insecure / compulsively codependant daters and maters, people want to associate with others who are more or less complete on their own. They want to associate with people with something to offer THEM. They want to associate with people who enable them to bring out the best in themselves. They want to associate with people that help them move in a direction that they themselves believe that they want to go.
By my own personal standard, I feel that I do a pretty good job of being that person. Interpersonally I am loyal, generous, emotionally supportive, understanding, forgiving, patient, and encouraging of growth.
When I met her I thought that I had a fairly accurate understanding of chemistry and compatibility. All my well-honed instincts screamed "proceed". No red flag could be seen from horizon to horizon. It turns out that I was wrong, wrong, very dead wrong. In retrospect I can clearly see how completely wrong we were for each other. I don't like being wrong, especially about matters of peoplekind.
And here, my dear readers, are the meat-n-potatoes of Evan's mischievous heart. Firstly, I was too uncharacteristically enthusiastic about committing. I didn't know many people in town at that time, and she was beautiful and intelligent and quirky and warm - she fit the profile of someone who I ought to have be bonkers about. I was excited about the potential to have a thick deep relationship, and that enthusiasm may have served to shoe-horn her into a realm that was both unsustainable and dysfunctional. Next, as compromising needed to be done, I didn't consider the thing being conceded of much value at all, so I compromised readily and without resistance. These accumulated, but still, no red flags sprung up in fluffy bunny's little wonderland of love (which fairly accurately describes the state of my mind for those two months).
To quote "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran, "passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction"
So in an effort to conduct my life with grace, I have redoubled my efforts to not be too hasty with relationship promotions. If things are to grow, they will grow over time, and the best laid plans of mice and sappy-ass men will hold little sway in the matter. I now remind myself to critically ask a few questions. Is there parity in the relationship? Is this person facilitating me becoming a better "me"? Have I been neglecting my friends? Does this person support me emotionally? Do we make a good "team"? I intend on using the answers to these questions to help determine the level of depth and intensity.
I know that when love comes to town -I'm gonna jump that train- (err!) I mean, I know that when my heart moves - it moves in a large way. All this high-minded cautionary thinking will be drowned by my gushing love fountain. (eww.) So I ask you this, dear reader. Please. If you notice me all suited up in big red heart-emblazoned swim trunks, rearin' to jump down the waterslide of love, drop me a line and remind me to re-read this entry. Consider yourself my personal "floaties". Ok kids, the metaphors are getting weird, that must mean it's time to stop writing.
I had lived in Austin TX for the past four glorious years of my life. I completely love Austin. I had planned on only staying in NY a few weeks to see my father through his immediate health problems. The first day there I did some modeling for fast ca$h, and landed a promotional job giving away lighters to smokers at bars. 0 to surviving in 1 day. Vrooom! Vrooom! I quickly made friends, went on dates, and dusted off some old haunts that had been hibernating in my hometown memories. I asked around for good jobs, and soon I landed a job doing quality assurance for one of the profitable dot coms in the "Capital District". (Albany / Troy NY)
I have neglected writing or updating this site for a long time. This is my attempt to make everything right and fresh again. I will touch on all the significant developments that have a clear ending.
I met Kiera on Friendster and had a whirlwind romance. My heart moved more strongly than it had in a very long time. We did cute little domestic things, rocked the bedsheets, ate fancy food together, and dreamed of future plans. The bliss degenerated about a month and a half after going steady. I brought out a monster in her - and I was all too willing to compromise. I accepted what was dealt, and I was amazingly content until the very end. I told myself that I was "riding out a storm", but that storm never subsided. My emotional state was wrecked for a good month afterwards. I kept making friends and working the job and I was able to grow through it. I learned of passion and reason, a truer understanding of strength, and how dangerous clever girls can be to love. The end.
The Fuze Box
The Fuze Box is Albany's answer to Austin's Elysium. Every Saturday night they have an 80's night that makes my life here livable. I get there at 11:30 and dance heavily until 3 or 4, when I am a heaving exhausted dance-beast drenched in sweat and hopped up on endorphins. I met a rad girl there too. That story, however, does not yet have an ending.
I was aghast to find a lack of free wireless internet access in Albany after tasting Austin's complete saturation. I did something that I rarely do. I walked outside, dropped to my knees and pleaded with god almighty to alleviate my plight. And so I pleaded, and so it was done. Professor Javas just got free wireless internet access. Hooray! Now I have no excuse to not neglect you, faithful website-y readers.
When I first drove into town I poked my head in to an old middle-aged dive bar that my childhood buddy Jon used to frequent. To my great surprise there was an electronic music show being set up. I walked up to one of the guys with a stylish haircut setting up a keyboard and zoink! - wouldn't you know it, he was from Austin. The first person I talked to upon pulling into Troy NY was from Austin. It turns out that I had seen him perform with A Roman Scandal three years earlier at Ruta Maya coffee shop.
This homecoming has been incredibly spiritually rewarding in a very short time. Lessons have been being flinging left and right. Love, hard work, family responsibility, rediscovering an environment, making new friends, the stress-relief of being gainfully employed, and withdrawl from the narcotic cultural bliss of Austin that kept me hopped up on fresh and funky art, music, culture, and the best people I have ever known. Sigh. Can you tell I still miss it dearly. Austin, ascii hearts go out to you. <3 <3 <3
In the Loooooooove Shack.
That is, I have decided to build a bedroom. Lay out a living room. Demolish and restore a darkroom where now stands a shack, behind a house, in Hyde Park - Austin TX. It's in hellaciously crappy shape right now. The floors of the living room is dirt. The floor of the darkroom is rotted-out wood, particleboard, and linoleum. The floor of what will be my bedroom is currently a chicken coop. It is pebbles now, and underneath the pebbles is a slab of concrete. When I look at it, I do not see a chicken coop. When I look at it I see my soon-to-be bedroom.
Phase I: Demolition
First I will tear up the rotted wood, particleboard, and linoleum of the darkroom, shovel and level the living room, collect the pebbles in the bedroom, and rend the mouse-chewed and water-damaged insulation from the walls.
Phase II: Ceilings
After the debris of twenty years of neglect is removed, I will waterproof and insulate the ceilings with a heavy plastic tarp and board insulation.
Phase III: Floors
This phase should be the biggest bitch of them all. I will lay and level the cinderblock on the dirt floors. Upon the cinderblock I will construct the frame of the floor out of 2x6s, and lay 3/4" wood on top of them. The darkroom will have black linoleum over the top of that in case of spills.
Phase IV: Walls
Since the shed is in severe disrepair I will first have to critter-proof it with scrap wood. Then comes the laying of the insulation, sealing it up all air-tight with tape, and covering all of that ugliness with some thin wood.
Phase V: Pimpification
This will be my favorite phase of all. This is when I get to paint the walls and adorn my new home with light fixtures, shelves, and assorted tricked-out-ed-ness.
I will build it, then I will live in it.
And it will be glorious.
Since last time I wrote, I had an intensely beautiful night at a house called "The Groove Farm". It's basically a bunch of hippied out folks living communally in East Austin. They chill, talk about "energy", and play really rad electronic music. The majority of the people there, that night, interracted with each other virtually without ego. Very freely and genuinely. It was refreshing to see so many people together, acting that way. It gave me hope in humankind, and reminded me that I don't need $ to survive.
I got to thinking: It's miserable stressing about paying rent and working a job that makes me want to die on a daily basis, whilst leaving no time left over to sufficiently decompress, and basically break even monetarily at the end of the month. There has to be a better way.
Ben let me know that he wanted to live alone. So now I need to find a place to live by the end of the month. Added stress. My body and my soul wants to pitch a tent in a friend's backyard and gnab some part time job. I need time. Free time. Me time.
I was in a fashion show today for my pals at The Escapist Bookstore. I wore a Kimono and tight black jeans and did a little skit with one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, and her 2yo daughter. It was so cute my teeth almost fell out. I wonder if anybody has any photos of it.
I've been balls-to-the-wall with working and apartment hunting and satisfying various hard time constraints. I haven't had enough time left over for myself. I feel like I've been fucking everything up and disappointing everybody. I don't feel like I've been able to do much of anything right lately. I'm breaking under the pressure. I'm going to find a better way to exist. I have to. And quicky.
It could be that I'm losing my mind, but it really feels like the universe has an amplified reactivity to it. Actions causing swift and obvious reactions. Dig?
Hang out with me before they throw me in the looney bin, eh?
let me know.
Let's begin with the girlie drama. I began dating a girl named Debi a while back. She was just getting out of a long relationship at the time, and I was the one there to help her through it. Everything was casual, healthy, and sane for about two weeks. Then all shit broke loose. My friend Bruce was looking for a place to live, so she suggested that he move in with her. At the time, it was mostly unknown to everybody that her intention was to seduce him. There was such little honesty involved, on the part of Debi, that it is a matter of speculation as to what she was honest even with herself about. They moved in together, she was successful in seducing him, causing intense amounts of friction everywhere, and when she realized that she was unsuccessful in winning his good favor, she hooked back up with her ex-bf and out he went. In the thick of things I was questioned my faith in the universe. Honesty and compassion beget good consequences, and dishonesty and selfishness actions beget bad ones. Luckily, the sordid house of lies collapsed upon itself in exact proportion to it's unholy construction with a net sum of 0 karma, plus the experience. So I came out ahead. Phew.
My father is fatally ill with congestive heart failure. For non-medical types, congestive heart failure is the build-up of fluids in the body that shift around and eventually create a little puddle of fluid around the heart until the heart decides it's not very happy thumping away in the middle of a puddle and stops. Proper diet and exercise can halt this process, but my father is too far gone to make the necessary lifestyle changes. A life sans cheeseburgers and cigarettes is not worth living. Apparently. It's sad. My father hasn't been happy. He has diabetes and bad nerve pain in his back. His existence consists of watching TV, sleeping, fighting the pain, taking medication, fending off death, and doing random handyman stuff around the house. I visited him in New York a I few weeks ago. As soon as I got on the plane I got slammed by a 105 degree fever that lasted for 5 days. My appetite came to a screeching halt, I dehydrated, and lost eight pounds in four days. My muscles atrophied from spending 5 days in bed, and I got sore. I went to the doctor and was prescribed antibiotics for two ear infections and a sinus infection. Mentally, I was very very out of it. I felt like I was existing underwater, and my balance was all wonked out. Between the fever and the ear situation, I experienced much confusion and disorientation. I didn't leave the house for the full week that I was in New York. Luckily, I managed to squeeze a little consciousness through so that dad and I could talk. Walking out the door was very emotional. We said what will probably be our last goodbyes. Dad was afraid that he wasn't a avery good dad for hammering on my balls my whole life. I told him that I harbored no resentment and that I was grateful for having him as my dad. I wish we had communicated so freely before. It was great. I don't know what to say when people ask, "how is your dad?" I think when people ask that their intention is a general expression of concern. But how am I supposed to answer it? He's still kickin'. There is no getting better. He'll continue to exist until he doesn't anymore. To my friends who read this, any time you're tempted to ask how my father is, just give me a hug instead. It's better that way.
I thought about leaving Austin today. There is a job fair coming to Austin in February. They're recruiting for Software Development positions in South Carolina. I have no idea what's in South Carolina besides this company. I know that I adore Austin. Lately, the recurring question has been coming more often. "What should I do while working this dead-end office job?" Should I bone up on my computer skills? Promote my photography business? Just exist as happily as possible and not worry about larger aspirations so much? I think I'm the type of person who gets cranky when not working toward a greater goal. I have grown so much as a person here in Austin. I fear that leaving Austin would be like yanking my cultural life line. I'd surely shrivel up. I am a city boy for sure. I get a little taste of that withdrawl every time I leave here, for whatever reason. I have grown so much here, I'm not sure where I stop and Austin starts. It's as if my roots are all intertwined with the soul. I am part of the social fabric here. The coffee shops, art spaces, movie houses, and other locations here accommodate my every mood and need. My friends here are some of the most incredible creatures ever. Leaving would be surgical. And what would justify that surgery? I am not compelled.
I learned to listen to my gut instead of the words that people say.
Life has been particularly obvious and forthcoming with it's lessons lately. So from that perspective, things have been really darn good.
I have all that I need. And I have the feeling that the clouds are primed to rain down sweet surprises.
I await with mouth wide opened to the sky.
The girls, having a much stronger grasp of the language, seized this opportunityto become little Spanglish chatterboxes. They directed the deforestation of my scalp while I sat meekly by with a sheepish grin on my face.
It turned out as well as can be expected. Come summer I may shave it all off. Sexy bald Evan time. Rawr.
I've had this inclination lately to clean up my look. Yesterday I also picked up a slick charcoal-colored Dickies jacket. A random passerby might suspect I was ex-military, if not for my babyface and the rock-star belt looped back around my ass like some rockabilly bondage freak.
Day One of my re-born appreciation of depth was a successful one. I let down some walls and allowed myself to feel vulnerable for the first time in a while. It fell on trusting and patient ears. 'Twas a good, good thing.
I have big plans on revamping Ye Olde Website, but I probably won't get to it for a month due to time constraints with school. I intent on adding a "friends" page with profiles and photos of my friends here in Austin (making Austin even smaller). Also, I will bring more of my portfolio online and lay it out in a more accessible gallery format with thumbnails and everything. I may even add the ability for you to leave comments after each entry. The kids seem to dig that these days. Email any suggestions you have for the site to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Nothing ventured => nothing gained.
And I've realized that I haven't ventured much in a long, long time.
I think this process of calcification probably began during my period of unemployment and temporary homelessness. The severe necessity of holding my emotional state together had this "hardening" effect. I build a shell. It held me together at the time. I learned to be self-sufficient. To not need anything outside of myself. I even stopped eating for a while there.
I realize now that it was really just a heaping assload of distrust. Distrust in the world to provide for me. Distrust in people to act emotionally consistently. Distrust in the way that things have a way of working out.
And I didn't notice when it never stopped....
I used to live so intensely. I heart sung in joy and writhed in pain all the time. It hasn't done either for a while now. And that bothers me.
It's clear that I've swung too far.
The line between crushing with weight and evaporating from disinterest probably isn't a very fine one. It just feels like it right now.
It's amazing. Clobbering down this one aspect of my personality allowed me to survive and function fairly well. I went through all the motions of living a cheerful, happy, normal Evan existence. I got a job, got in school, got my life back on track. But my heart neither sings nor feels pain. Just this odd metallic constraint.
The few times that I've gotten excited lately and went to open up the door to the wrought iron cage that is my heart, that door was almost immediately slammed closed.
Today is "Let's Be Grateful For Non-Bitter Ex-Lover's Day" for helping me realize this tonight.
Coming soon to an Evan near you.
Here is the formula:
As the number of significant people in one's life increases, so increases:
1) One's total capacity to love.
The more people around, the greater the number of opportunities to have meaningful interractions, thus, a greater capacity to love.
2) One's appreciation for each person as a special and unique individual.
In order to appreciate a person for what they are, we have to know what they're not. Knowing a variety of people, all with their own unique strengths, weaknesses, and quirky personality traits, is a good (if not the only) way to gain this perspective.
Here's a question for you that my teachers might call an "active learning exercise". Gah.
If a person was friends with everybody in the world, and out of everybody, he/she chose to spend time with you, would you feel more or less special than if the person had few or no friends?
Ok, enough cerebral analytical math bullshit. Let's get personal. I wrote this entry because I discovered that an ex-lover vilified me to a girl that I had been smooching occasionally at the time. She told her that no girl was ever special to me, and said that she must be just another one in a long line of insignificants. She was successful in her vilification, and I resent her intensely for that. As best as I can figure, she deluded herself with these mis-truths about me as some sort of coping mechanism, all because I didn't want her the way that she wanted me.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
And that's the truth.
It sucks when things go sour, but I prefer to at least be polite. Oh well. This single life sure has it's pitfalls.
-dramatic change of topic-
And now a little something for the occasional hetero-sexual male who reads the site. Check out my adorable friend Karyn!
You may recognize her from the hit-and-run adventure we had BACK IN THE DAY. Yep, this is K-rims in the all-too-cute flesh.
She's 23, single, thin, kindof shortish, and lives here in Austin. She needs a man to keep her warm on these cold Texas winter nights and to treat her like the lady she is. Karyn likes rock music and funky Austin haunts. I've seen her dance, and boys, watch out! She puts J-LO to shame. That's not to imply that Karyn has a ghetto-booty. Oh no, quite the opposite. Her ass is so fine it's like two grapefruits kissing. She dresses like a rockstar. She isn't failing out of college or anything. No readily apparent psychotic disorders. And she has her own wheels, too. Damn, that is one smoooooooove ride.
So boys, write to Karyn at Karyn@koax.org today. Send a photo, age, and telephone #, and if you're not too lame, you just might be the lucky fella who gets to take her out.
The other day I stepped out onto my porch to roll a cigarette and noticed that the fire hydrant on the corner of our street was gushing water. I grabbed my camera, rolled up my pant legs all Huckleberry Finn-style and waded into the onrush for some hopefully rad photos. I'll post em once they're all developed and everything.
Another tenant of the conversation was that what we percieve as evil is usually no more than a human reacting to a percieved fear. This reminder came at just the perfect time. Shanna does not appear to be interested in maintaining any part of the connection that we had. I am. I can understand why she might not want to. We do not share the same temprament when it comes to enduring pain for the sake of virtue. Or maybe her associated pain has bled all over onto the core of what we were, as a means of coping. (by rotting the virtue) I prefer to keep those things sacred, even if it means enduring short-term pain. It just makes me sad, is all.
That brings us to the Really Big Question that's on my mind right now.
What responsibilities do we have to each other, given that we're imperfect human beings, often reacting out of fear instead of love/understanding?
As long as we're following our heart, is it right to be as we like, as long as we are truthful to all involved? In other words, I've been thinking about how to justify my animal nature with my spiritual nature. It's certainly as wrong to deny ourselves of our animal nature as it is to deny others love or truth.
What when our animal/spiritual nature, openly and honestly expressed, causes others pain? What responsibilities do we have to protect others from their own flawed animal selves? This question is also very timely in light of recent events. Do we chalk it up and say, "well, the reason they're in pain is because of their lack of understanding, and I was truthful and open about everything, so I'm exonerated"? Should we consider the pain they're in a divine one? A constructive one? A step along the path to understanding? How careful ought we be with people to make sure that they can handle what is set forth? Is a certain amount of pain acceptable? If so, how much? These are all hard questions.
A hugely important issue that we covered in the intense 20 minutes of conversation was the importance of love. If we focus on love, and strive to see the reality/beauty in people under the fascade of intellect, IT IS SO GOOD. I'd have stuck an exclamation point at the end of that sentence, but I was afraid of overdoing it. Loving a person as much as we possibly can expedites understanding and forgiveness. We end up reacting to people on a much more REAL level too. We tend to be both more truthful, and also more sensitive to them. What a wonderful world it would be if everybody was strong enough to be this way.
Ok, enough hippy-dippy shit, up comes the next topic: (which is inextricably tied into the previous three paragraphs). The major source of fascination that attracts me to people is their capacity to love. I can see it in their eyes. Love for others, and love for themselves. This goes hand in hand with intuition and sensitivity. Some people hide this spark away inside (probably out of fear). These people are harder to get to know. They take more time to trust, to let their spark out of it's well-guarded cage. They have probably had a lot of pain in their lives and seek to avoid it. Others have their spark right out in the open. These people, I believe, are more willing to endure the pain necessary to posess emotional sensitivity. I believe that vulnerability is necessary for a fully functional soul.
I am a lover. I seek to "know" both types of people. One just takes more time and energy.
Laughter is the celebration of human understanding.
Wow, I'm really tired. I haven't felt this compelled to write in quite a while. These be inspirational times we be livin' in, matey.
Expect more real soon.
And so it went. With a gentle puff from rosey warm cheeks, the house of cards crumpled on down. No casualties. Just a few minor bruises. A couple lumps on the head and in the throat.
Sometimes I think I'd rather strap myself to the rocket like a good little space monkey should.
It's really not a failure. More like a non-issue. A false start. A default. Yes, and this is what I will believe. This, it is the truth.
Bouncing back like a twenty-five cent superball is wrong. Valid heights beget valid depths. So into the valley I go.
Goodnight for now.
As fate would have it, I just got canned from Apple that very same day. I scattered my belongings to friends' houses and took turns crashing at a couple of their houses. After a while this seemed silly to her, so we moved in together. After two months I got so anxious from not being able to find a job that I got cold and distant. It was never the same since. After that, we fell into a back-and-forth pattern of expecting affection, and the other person recoiling in a defensive posture. Bad bad bad.
When I found a job and we found a bigger place to move into, we had high hopes that a new place would also mean an escape from the resentment and psychic poison of the old place. This turned out to be true. Unfortunately, it only lasted a week. School had started by then and I was (and still am) committed to not fucking it up. In the past I have had trouble balancing my time and energy between lovers and work and school. This time was no different, but this time I decided that school would not be the one thing that got the shitty end of the stick. In my struggle for balance, she was dissatisfied with the time that we spent together, and thus dissatisfied by me.
Shanna is the first girl I've ever lived with. I'm her third or fourth. I'm afraid I didn't do a very good job of it. Holding my shit together is very important to me. She's looking to settle down. Long term. While I'd love that too, the daily effort spent keeping my priorities on school and my emotional state healthy don't leave much left over to process relationship drama (and heal poison psychic plaque). She says that she isn't even interested in salvaging a friendship. Time will tell.
And so it went, and so it goes.
I feel as if something really big and good is going to happen. The last year has been such a violent downward spiral. Looking back at it now, it seems very necessary. Last year I was riding so high I was blinded to so many of the little truths and values in life that can only really be gouged into a person's soul by calamity after deeper calamity.
I've learned how important it is to listen to my heart. This past year I went through these intense phases of anxiety and stress. Now it's like those scabs that formed are being peeled off, leaving my senses much more sensitive than before. Warms are warmer, colors are brighter and more saturated, and life is beautiful once again.
Love is the answer. Love of self and love of others helps, but the real money is in loving the process of Life. All the little experiences that we plow through daily. Living each experience as if it's your lover's body. Savoring the details, both good and bad. Exalting in the joys and tongueing pain like a masochist does a toothache. But also not feeling particularly shat upon or anything. Incredible peace ensues. I dare you to try.
Go read "The Prophet" by Gibran. It's in your local library. If it rocks your world half as much as it did mine, your world will be thoroughly rocked. It played a big part in this latest epiphany. For real, read it. It's really short. Like 2 hours short.
P.S. more photos coming soon.
Our heart beats on it's own. Our lungs feed us air, in and out. And most of the time, thought isn't required to motivate our large intestine to suck the nutrients out of the food that we eat. It's much the same thing.
Adaptation to our environment. That's what us humans have, more than any other animal. Wherever we choose to go, we go, whatever we choose to do, we do, and in air-conditioned comfort.
It occurred to me today, and yesterday, and last week, that I am happy. And what reason do I have to be? I'm without a steady job, without a place of my own, and damn near broke. Previous metrics of happiness are now apparently defunct. My latest kick is thrilling in knowing I'm evolving and adapting. And growing into something great.
I can feel it.
I've got my computer over at Ben's house. I play with his doggie and get on the internet here during the day. I'm going through severe internet withdrawl. I think it's a good thing though. I'm more like a poor sucker going to a methadone clinic than a broke junkie shivering naked on a curb somewhere. All the extra time I've got now is necessarily used thinking, thinking, seeing friends, reading, thinking, reading, photographing, but mostly thinking.
I'm smack dab in the middle of a drastic transitional phase. I've got almost no earthly obligations at all. I'm up to my neck in future possibilities. It's both exciting and terrifying. I have the feeling that however I grow out of where I'm at now, it's going to be very very good.
I'm structuring which hours in the day I spend looking for jobs, pursuing photography, reading, and socializing with friends, current, new, and previously neglected.
I've got a little money coming in from unemployment, so I'm not starving. No more than usual anyways. Tee hee.
I ran into Amy last night at club DeVille. She was chilling with Travis and her sister, who looks practically identical to her. The similarity is eerie. Later on I got to talking to her sister and the conversation turned to intuition and what's important in life. I slept on my unbedded floor last night and dig some thinking. I thought about unspoken language, what I enjoy about the interpersonal relationships that I currently have and have had in the past, how I want to be, and which kinds of connections I want to nurture in the future.
The economy is raping me like a large black man in prison.
I imagine that I'll bathe at friend's houses for the next couple months and cut back on my prostitute addiction. Ooh, speaking of prostitutes, I saw a really great movie the other night. It's called, "About A Boy" and stars Hugh Grant. It's almost as cute and charming as Amalie. Go see it. Bring a date.
My social life has really blossomed lately. It's a gentle-type growth, compared to the explosive growth that I experienced a month ago. Groovy that.
I'm in the worst economic shape I've ever been in in my life, yet I'm really darn happy and enthusiastic about what tomorrow holds. I've got some really great connections with some really great people in my life. Now to bring in enough money to visit my dying father up in New York. God? Please? Pretty please?
Speaking of God, I ran into this Jew at Spiderhouse the other day. He was very obviously an alcoholic and had been living on the street. He looked me in the eye and told me that I "had no fear" and recited some old testament Zackariah story to me. It was a wild experience. It made me want to read the bible just to figure out what he was talking about. He pronounced, "reticulated python" the same way Hanibal Lecter pronounces, "Clarise". He also had a funny habit of rolling his eyes into the back of his head.
On a lighter note, here is something for your entertainment: The Brick Testament.
Here's a very funny prank call mp3: budonkadonk.
Jaaaaaaaaava java java java java.
I mean, come on... Java!
This event triggered the most surreal chain of events ever. There are too many to recount here and now. I've been a bit numbed by the crumbling of all structure in my life. I've only now been able to write about it. And briefly at that.
The most significant lesson to be learned by said crumbling is the importance of friends and love. They've really come through for me. Both by helping me keep my shit together emotionally, and tangibly. I've got a job interview Monday thanks to Jeremy. And not some shitty survival situation either. An exciting software development position. One where I can put my crazy Java skills to use.
I've been spending a lot of time with Bruce Dye lately. We both got hired and laid off at the same time. He's one of the rare guys that I get along with. Speaking of rare guy friends, Ben took me to a musical, "Sweet Charity", at the Paramount Theatre a couple days ago. Fellini wrote it. T'was really good. It was about a wacky woman's quest for love in the mid 60's. I got dressed up and felt all fancy and cultured and shit.
I'm so lucky to have good friends.
Last week I was about to write this essay about how dumb we are for letting our jobs dictate how we feel about ourselves. That was when I HAD a job. Now I'm in this scary/exciting void of infinite potential. I can be anything now. Now it's a lot harder to answer the question, "Who am I?". You know those Buddhist monks who don't have normal working jobs, who sit up on a mountain and ponder existence and whatnot all day. You know what I bet they say when you ask them who they are? I bet they say, "I'm a Buddhist monk".
And that's unfortunate. They should know better.
As an exercise for the reader, I challenge each of you to really think hard about WHO YOU ARE, outside of any social context. You're not your job, you're not your school, you're not your family either. You're not what you create, who you know, how much money you have, or how many people you have sex with. You're not your gang, you're not your church, you're not your sports team, and you're sure not your website.
So answer the question, when all of the fire-proof doors that protect you from seeing yourself are chained open, when there are no symbols there to hide behind, no groups or vocations to identify with, "WHO AM I?".
Who would you be if you were the sole survivor of nuclear armageddon? And if you say "a cockroach" I'll punch you in the nose.
I think people often torture themselves unnecessarily. Whether they're delving into drama, wallowing in self loathing, putting themselves into bad situations, or simply neglecting their own happiness. I see my friends going through these things and it makes me sad. I'd rather be numb and happy. Not numb in the dispassionate sense, numb in the non-tortured sense. A little more like the buddha, a little less like the Jesus.
How's this for a good band name, "Big on the Buddha"? As in, "he's big on the Buddha, she's big on the buddha, we're all big on the buddha". Like that. And they could write songs about suffering and detachment. It'd be great.
Sorta like Stabbing Westward, just with more Buddha.
Life squirts out through my sucking lips like eating a mango fully ripened. My eyes again see the true vivid beauty of the world and my tongue savors every sweet swallow.
Beauty beauty beauty. It's all that I can see. Beauty and goodness and more beauty.
The world is my oyster, I shall not want. But bathe in the nectar of wanton succulence. Drama falls on fallow ears here like sparrows to a half-inch-thick pane of glass.
I have exploded. And in the Best of ways. Every constriction snapped and shot through like so much tissue paper. Completely unabashed by doubt or insecurities. No forgiveness sought. No guilt wrought. No nothing but pleasure.
My spirit bing bang BANG exploded - slipped into the ether.
I played doubles 8-ball with John Popper of Blues Traveler Thursday night at the Ritz. We won. I got most of the balls in, and he got most of the feminine attentions. Fun night, it was.
I REALLY need to get ahold of a music sequencing program. I drive home and all these wacked lyrics fill up my head. Take a look at some of the tracks I've created under "Evan" -> "Music". Oh, what I could do with the right tools!
Don't be a tool. Stay in school.
When you're drunk off your ass at 4am, who do ya call? Evan! When your car needs a jump, who do ya call? Evan! When ya need a laugh or wanna throw back a few beers, who do ya call? Evan!
Feeling useful and needed and wanted is really important to me. I love that the people that I care about can count on me. I love how my cell phone goes bling-bling-bling with people wanting to chill. I feel necessary. I feel like a big ole cog in the social dynamic. Gears meshing with gears, turning around, making the whole damn thing hum.
It's the opposite of suicide.
When I meet someone new I find myself asking, "do you know so-and-so?", "do you frequent here-or-there?". Austin is such a tightly-knit community that the answer is very often, "yes". And I love it. I get a little rush the moment I realize that the person is part of the fabric of my world already. Even if they're a small pattern way off near the edge. When I was young my mother had these thick cotton blankets. Way up on the top edge of the blanket there was a few inches of ghetto-silk. It was soft and smoothe and I liked rubbing my face on it when I snuggled into bed. It's a lot like that.
When I first moved here (Austin) I had a lot of trouble finding quality people to being into my fold. Also, I made a conscious effort to keep my friends separated. I previously had experiences where, when I introduced friends to friends, they ran off with each other leaving me high and dry. Minus the high. I was a good clean-cut kiddo. I was sore about the whole abandonment thing when I moved here, so I ended up bringing a little piece of New York with me.
Recently I've been relatively balsy, or experimental at least. I've been introducing friends to friends. The results have been alchemic. I see more of my friends more, they see each other more, and I become the speck of proverbial dust that the friendship crystal forms around. I think I should talk to my doctor about metaphor-suppressing drugs. I have health insurance now, you know? ;-)
Thanks, Kelly, for dropping some serious quality-control on koax.org. I'll try not to get so excited about computer-y things ever again.
Imagine that everything I will ever express outwardly can be represented by a plastic bottle of Sprite. The carbonation can be anything that's worthy of attention. Some of the carbonation just diffuses into the air all willy-nilly. Nobody pays much attention to it because it's like static on the radio. There's no rhyme or reason to it. The opposite of this, of course, is the bubbles. The bubbles are of the same stuff as the fizz, except they've deliberately coalesced into something with form and a definite quality. Little perfect round bubbles. For an example of what I consider perfect little round bubbles, click here.
I posted some photos of Natasha last night. And here they are. The new ones are the "sg" series. They're PG-13. Halfway through the shoot I realized that by actually holding the florescent (full spectrum) light in my left hand while working the camera with my right hand, I could compose a shot in record time. Unflattering shadows can be banished by a simple placement of my left hand. Extremely fast and cool technique, methinks.. Natasha gets really pissy when it takes too long to compose a shot. So I discovered it out of necessity. :) That, and I don't have any strobes yet. Soon though, soon.
Never trust a man who tucks his shirt in.
i walked behind the truck
with wrists chained in steel
forearms to chrome bumper
and when i could walk no further
and when i could fall no further
i sang as the rough road removed
layers of clothes and skin
and the rest of the meaty parts
that clung to my distended frame
i sang for all i was worth
My life has begun to settle into something resembling a healthy rhythm. I've got my friends at work, I've got my downtown posse, and of course I've got my online cronies. I miss my parents tons. My father is in the hospital with fluid in his lungs. He's got heart disease. It runs in the family. I feel so helpless being so far away. I want to be there now, and I just can't be. I'll visit NY again in around a month, I think.
Being single again is kindof surreal. Thankfully, Natasha isn't a mean crazy ho. I'm also lucky that I've got a lot of stuff in my life going on right now to keep me occupied. Idle hands are the insane's playground or something. Wouldn't that be a good name for a club, "The Insane's Playground"? I think so too.
Let me know what you think of the new design. I care.
without a weblog to click through
click through - click through
click click through - click through
For the past couple weeks I have abandoned you. My usually nimble mind has been bearing no fruit suitable for human consumption. Work has clearcut my free time and salted my now barren mind. Every time that phone rings, a little piece of me dies.
Just kidding, I actually really enjoy my job. My schedule changed from Monday -> Friday to a Satuday -> Wednesday. As a result, today, Wednesday, I am working my TENTH day in a row.
Kill me now.
Ben organized a little get together at Club Deville the other night. The theme was, "Taking Online Interactivity Offline". Basically, a whole bunch of people from The Austin Index got together to drink a few fancy liquer drinks and do what they do best: yap. We yapped and yapped. It was great finally meeting the folks whose journals I've read for so long.
I lost my virginity to a girl that I met at a computer-type get-together when I was 17. I guess that makes it 1996. Wow, it's only been 6 years that I've been terrorizing women and sheep alike? It seems like more. Anyhow, this get-together at Club Deville was reminiscent of that. The "BBS meet", not like losing my virginity.
I talked to a rare virgin friend of mine the other day about what it's like having sex for the first time. I told him it's like riding a waterslide. You walk up all those steps to get to the mouth of the slide. It can be kindof scary. Then in a moment of determination you decide to "go for it!" "Wheeeeeeeeeeeee". Tons of fun for a very brief time, and it's over before it's practically began. You can't stop grinning, and all you can think of is doing it again and again.
And so you do. :-)
had a photo shoot at Zilker Botanical Gardens.
attended a dog show with my old work pal Tim.
attended an art-critique party at Rachel's house.
shook my booty at Elysium.
stepped foot into my first darkroom.
A good few day's, I'd say.
I was hungry and lonely last night we I went downtown for a slice of pizza and a glass of beer. I sat at Casino El Camino and reminisced about the last two years of my life. I've lived in Austin for two years. Every place that I frequent now has just about two years worth of memories associated with it. I have met people at Casino. I've had little adventures. I've drank many a beer there.
Looking back on it all, I feel like I was a different person in each of those months. People entered and exited my life. Clubs and shops sprang into existence and withered on the vine. The waitress at Casino has worked there the whole time. A lot of things do stay the same.
I'm at the point in life where I'm becoming more aware of time. When I was young it just flew by. My childhood was fast fun and frivolous. Maybe it's just because I'm broke and paying too much attention to everything. I don't know.
I asked myself, "what have I been doing with my life?". I was generally satisfied by my answer. Big ballin' at a big fancy job used to be important to me. That is no longer the case. My friends have made all the difference. They've really pulled through for me in my time of need. Friends, indeed.
I've also cracked open a big can of creativity this last year. Thank you Natasha. My visual and verbal and interpersonal juices have come to a boil. I suddenly have a sense of what's good and what sucks. I appreciate the genuine qualities in people now too. I share company with only those who make my world a little nicer place to be, and I don't chase fruitless pursuits.
Maybe the biggest lesson this past year has taught me is when to keep my mouth shut. That's maturity, methinks.
I want to revamp the site but I don't have any ideas for a new design. I won't leave you beloved readers out in the cold.
It's real and I can touch it and look at it and hold it.
A great little photography site on The Austin Index is Silvershoe.com. She's got a journal and updates every so often too. There is a great photo of a Pyramid burial-type building in New Orleans. Go check it out.
My life has these big wrinkles in it. I'm ironing them out one by one. Getting there, getting there.
I recorded these two darn songs a while ago. They're tucked into a nook of this site, so a lot of you haven't listened to them yet. Consider this the grande untucking. I like the ring of that.
They're kindof creepy, I'm warning you.
adventures in karaoke
I read about a technique called "split filtering". With it, you can get a print's contrast and detail JUST how you want it. This was what was on my mind tonight at 2am as I beep-boop-boop-beeped away the security pad of the ArtPlex. The security code didn't work. 24/7 my ass!
Thanks to Florence, I saw Explosions in the Sky tonight at the Mercury Lounge. Her site is neat and simple. Go check it out.
Here's a nugget of photographic goodness for y'all.
Better safe than sorry.
I have a job interview Monday at Apple Computer. Here's hoping the whiskers and fangs don't decide to come in before then.
I've been dusting off my Java chops too. God I love Java. It does everything SO right. Once I get the little project I'm working on together I'll post it for y'all. It's a swing/xml address book app. So I can keep track of all-o-y'all bitches. Awww yeah.
I have a job interview tomorrow, but I consumed so much caffeine that I can't sleep despite bodily fatigue. Rats.
I'd going to work on the Java project until I can zonk out.
Here's a silly blurry photo of me.
I'll be quiet now.
Today for lunch we all went to the park at Deep Eddy. I took photos of Natasha and Hilary sitting on the dock there with the medium format. I also took photos of the geese that live there. While framing a shot one of them attacked my ankles. It scared the bejeezus out of me. I'll post the photos once I get them developed. It should be a weekish.
None of you poor single readers better hang yourselves today. I'd be mad. If you don't have someone to get your smooch on with, go find one. If you can't find one, then indulge in chocolate and bubblebath and self-love. If all else fails, wallowing in self-pity works in a pinch.
I love you. Every motherfucking last one of you.
I start my four weeks of training next Friday. I just need to sign some papers and pee in a cup before then. No problemo. Deadbeat Evan has a job! Woohoo! Deadbeat no more.
My life is going so well.
I better figure out something to be worried about soon or my life is in danger of being perfect.
I helped Ben move into his swank new house the other day. He spoke of his declining opinion of the state of the web. Literary websites have declined in favor of "update" type sites. The argument is this: Why put time and energy into producing quality content when "got up, took a shit, went to a rock show" websites get a buttload of visitors. Where is the motivation? Everybody can publish now. The overall quality has been diluted.
I see that koax.org is that kind of site. I'd love to pump out delicious lumps of digital goodness to my adoring masses on a daily basis. I don't believe that I have that capacity. Whatever charm this site has, apparently it's significant, judging from my readership. I admit that it feels a little cheap producing a soap opera of one. I suppose I'll keep doing my best to keep your voyeuristic needs satisfied and toss you a juicy tidbit of humor every once in a while. It's not like I could stop anyway.
yesterday i urinated in a clear plastic container. they wanted to know that my body and soul was free of earthly toxins. the test can't possibly show the black rotten apple core that doubles for my spine. they can't possibly discover the stench of sorrow burrowing up through my skin like tenacious maggots. they just can't.
i can't imagine what earthly force dragged me here. i see no-one to finger. my friends and associates are better than ever. my prospects bright, like a shit-smeared rainbow. i gotta wear shades.
I took Natasha out to Zilker for a lunch picnic at Zilker Park. Squirrels mated while we sat on the bottom of a small dried-up stone pond. The sun peeked through the trees to warm us and light the scene with a golden glow. I poured Pepsi from the bottle into styrofoam cups as if it was a wine of the finest vintage. I commented on the aroma and swirled it around the botton of the cup with sophistication. Then she found a long stick and we played "Singapore Bubble Gum Criminal". I won't get into the dirty details of the game. Let's just say that I hope the ass welts heal soon.
Here's a little story about the other night..
We met a transient bandito in the hallway who was muleing drugs across the border in his colon
and since my head got ran over by a delivery truck walking back from the club
we shot up some heroin to kill the pain
then the hot lesbian sex began
Clint was unprepared
He cried, "can't I nurse just a little longer, mommy?!"
The answer was, "no".
My girls were delicious as always. The past few nights out with them have been particularly chock-full-of-fun. I think it's springtime here in Texas. The birds have started a'chirping, the sun has started a'shining, and young girl's thoughts have turned to fancy.
If someone put a gun to my head and made me pick the one thing that I'd miss most about Austin, it'd be the surrealism that's served up daily. The fine women and live music rank in a close second.
I'm going to the Litter Meet CD release party tonight at Emos. Everyone is going. Be there or be [ ].
Here are the wacked-out audio tracks that I promissed you.
Tourettes & ADHD - Necessarily naughty words mocking a debilitating illness.
Bong Hits - Self explanatory
Dementia - Memoirs of an axe murderer.
I Love You - Listen to this one with headphones.
The sudden lack of any free time has been a swift kick to the nuts. I think my brain atrophied during the last ten months too. I've still got the willpower to get myself out of bed and drive 40 minutes to work in the freezing cold, but I haven't yet had a chance to sink my teeth into work. Training is really easy. One manager took an interest in me and hooked me up with a bunch of Mac development tools. Nice guy. There are lots of nice people working there.
I feel bad that my website is rotting on the vine because of my newfound income. I'll really try to write some quality stuff up here. Help me out, would ya? Leave me a note in my guestbook about what you'd like me to write. I need some good ideas.
I resolve to...
- get a GOOD job.
- take good care of my friends.
- have as much fun as I possibly can.
- master photography and java.
- update more often.
- visit my parents.
- eat better/more.
- build some neat websites.
- read these darn books.
- explore more of Texas.
- chill the hell out.
- think of more resolutions.
..and there you have it.
There's twelve of them. If I do one each month, I'll be sittin' pretty.
I miss getting feedback from you folks. I'm beginning to think that nobody actually reads the sweet fruit of my toil. If you're reading this, please take a few moments out of your life to post YOUR new-years-resolutions on my guestbook.
Thanks. That'll be great.
I've been putting job applications in everywhere. Yesterday I got my first response. I went to the interview and made a pretty good impression, I think. One of the interviewing managers shares my love for photography. We talked about that some. I've only got a few hundred dollars left in the bank. Snagging this job would mean that I can pay rent next month. Snagging this job would mean that I can survive.
I haven't heard back from them yet.
Ring, phone, ring.
My phone didn't ring tonight. I instead drove over to Ben's house, fed Goblin (the cat), and watched the rest of the Alien(s) series. Goblin laid on my chest and we shared warmth as we watched parasitic aliens burst from their host's chests.
A good time was had by all.
Lovers and friends. There is this itch in all of us begging to be scratched. Companionship and compassion and affection. We all want it.
Tonight I went to the Velveeta Room (a comedy club), and Oceans 11 (a bar). Not having the horny-single-leering-guy mindset granted me the perspective to witness a few glimmers of truth.
Bars and clubs stay in business by scratching that itch. Bringing people together.
I enjoyed the company of everybody that I talked to tonight. Each person is so different, like there's a whole universe inside of them. A new and beautiful perspective. I've learned to appreciate that.
I used to be a dog. I used to be a predator. Thank god I'm not 19 anymore.
The fascination of the unknown, the peeling away of layer after layer, the exhilaration of discovery, and the genuine appreciation of what's underneath. That's what it's all about for me now. That's where I get my kick.
The secret to making friends is to be _genuinely_ interested in them. Talking and smiling a lot helps too.
This concludes your daily lump of Evan-wisdom.
A decline viewed in disappointing contrast with a previous rise
That's my word of the day.
Last night Adriana, Ellison and I had a little movie night. After making a few sweeps through Blockbuster, I grabbed Amores Perros (a movie none of us recognized, but which looked promissing) and told them that if it sucked they had permission to take me over their knees. (which alternately didn't sound like a bad evening) Luckily, for my silly white ass, the movie turned out to be fantabulous. I won't spoil the plot for you, but there is love, gunplay, brother-hate, hot sex, sexy mexicans, an assassin, dog fighting, and a car chase involved. A little something for everybody.
Go see it. Right now.
Did I mention that I adore Superchunk lyrics? Everybody should own Superchunk's "On The Mouth" album. I love it every time I come back to it. There's an song on there for every flavor of angst you can imagine. It's like the Baskin Robbins of angst.
The job that would...
pay rent this month.
allow me to visit my parents.
get my teeth cleaned.
fund my photography.
grant me dignity again.
The job didn't exist. She sent me off to some random residency in Cedar Park at nine in the morning for nothing.
I thought it was humiliating enough being unemployed. It was nothing compared to the humiliation I felt knocking on random doors at nine in the morning, being met with only confused faces.
I wonder what I did to deserve treatment like that. I've been nothing but good to this person. What would motivate someone to jerk me around so violently?
In all the years that I've been on the internet, this is the sickest shit I have ever experienced.
People's capacity for cruelty astounds me.
Here is what I know of her (if any of it is true):
Melanie L Schmidt
options and commodities broker
Lives in Cedar Park, previously on Lake Travis
40ish years old
recently divorced from a semi-pro golfer
yahoo! IDs: mlsinc2000 mlschmidtinc thehatgoestojail
family in France, lives with one son
sent me to 3002 Birch Drive, Cedar Park.
brown hair(naturally blonde)
at least one dog
You all have been warned. She's a phoney. If she's even a "she". "She" is probably some gay man that I shot down after he e-humped my leg. Or something. People suck. Except for YOU of course, darling reader. Unless YOU are Melanie. Then you still suck.
primus - spaghetti western
Perhaps you've heard: I've sponsored legislation designating today as National Find Evan A Job Day. Today, every American is constitutionally obligated to do just one thing that will bring Evan one step closer to being gainfully employed. The bill is currently working it's way through Congress, but I'm confident that it'll be enacted into Law. It's tacked onto a bill constitutionally obligating senatorial interns to provide fellatio to their assigned senators.
To fulfill your patriotic duty, any of the following actions will suffice. Think to yourself:
1) is your work hiring?
2) is anybody you know's work hiring?
3) is anywhere you know hiring?
4) isn't it about time that I buy Evan some beer/food?
5) I'd love to pay Evan to take photos/give me a massage/dig a hole/open a hard to open jar.
6) jeez, all these fat rolls of 100's.. I ought to let Evan hold onto these for a while.
If these ideas seem rediculous to you on first reading, drink heavily, consume mind altering drugs, and repeat them over and over in your mind until they make perfect sense.
Adolescence was filled with sex and school and jobs and trying out different identities. Different cliques and circles I ran in. I drove myself further and further exploring all the different flavors that the world had to offer. Testosterone had to be the biggest driving forces during this time. The child's mind gave way to theories and science and politics and computers. Complexity.
For all the adventure and money and social agility it brought me, I have come to miss that child-like contentment. I think that part of becoming a complete adult human being is learning how to consciously choose what kind of person you want to be, what things are worth keeping in your life, and settling on some balance between intelligence and contentment.
Those moments this morning were euphoric. I aspire to have more of them.
"Hey, I bet I can get $50 for that lens on ebay. Ooh, and I could hock my real fake red leather recliner for at least $300."
I even considered hocking my medium format camera. Hard times, man.
It's amazing how cheaply one can exist in this town and still have a good time. I'm lucky to have such generous friends.
God DAMN I have good taste in women.
I get mopey sometimes, but I always feel SO GOOD after dancing. My juices are all revved up, everything seems good and right in the world, and I'm going to sleep like a baby. A happy baby. Like a happy baby on horse tranquilizers.
I grew up believing that I had limitless human potential. No obstacle could help but succumb to my sheer force of will. I laid challenges in my path and mastered them one by one. Computer games were one of the first challenges that I picked. Later, my fancy turned to girls, then basketball, marksmanship, meditation, programming, massage, writing, painting, and web design. The latest is photography.
It bothers me to suck at pursuits that I admire. I want to be good at everything.
I don't pretend to be good at what I'm not, and I'm the first to admit when I suck. I think that's an important attitude to have in life, especially for an artist. The willingness to admit that my work is shit is my single strongest motivating force. I think that it's important to believe in god for the same reason. It's healthy to have a force around to be humbled to. It keeps things in check.
I've never ever been defeated. My definition of success is what does the changing. School is a perfect example. I had trouble with a couple of classes a few years ago. Instead of conceding, "oh, I can't do advanced calculus", I realized that advanced calculus wasn't for me. I let it go. Then I was happy again. Living in denial of reality would have been the bigger defeat.
Breakups were made impossibly painful by this mindset. So much emotional power and control over me resting in the reckless hands of a careless girl rocked my world six ways to Sunday. Nothing I could do made a damn of difference. I hurt unstoppably.
Torment like that is the price to be paid for short-circuiting the fuse of normal human limitations.
I wouldn't recommend it.
In a few months I plan on going back to school too. I just have to figure out for what.
I went to the pound today with Ben. We saw some cute doggies. I took photos of some of them. We walked a sweet little bitch with droopy black tits.
Made my day.
And lastly, here is a recent photo. Natasha likes it.
I think I look like a sweet potato with Down Syndrome. You be the judge.
Last night Ryan, his friend Josh, and I met downtown for cheap women and loose drinks. At the Ritz Ryan spotted a table full of seven girls. I took "point" and penetrated the estrogen bubble by asking one of them for a cigarette. I then hammed them up and introduced Josh and Ryan.
They told us that they were going dancing at Elysium later on and that we should meet up with them. So we did.
I ran into Adriana there with a couple other of her friends who promptly split. That was a good surprise. The boys were mixing well with the girls, so after the club closed I organized a Love Caravan over to Ryan's pimp condo. Ten people who we just met followed me there. I felt like Moses.
The scene was pretty mellow and enjoyable. I took turns yapping with whoever decided it was their turn to smoke on the balcony. As the evening wound down I laid on the couch and watched an OLD black and white game show. In front of the host's desk sat an advertisement for Winston cigarettes complete with plastic replicas of opened packs with several butts sticking out of each pack invitingly to the viewer.
The television was muted because the stereo was thumping dope grooves to the tail-waggling delight of the lingering party goers. I laid there watching the contestant's mouths move. They don't have old people on television anymore. It was refreshing to see old and middle-aged normal-looking people on television. They seemed so genuine. They kept me mesmerized for a good half hour.
When I clicked through the channels I landed on MTV. I counted. No video sequence lasted more than three seconds, and some were only a second long. The favorite transition between each sequence was a quick white flash. There were no old people. There were no genuine smiles and gestures. There was only young flair and that familiar epileptic flash. This is what has become of our culture?
I imagine hell will be like that.
People like to jump around a lot more in upstate New York.
I didn't REALLY get into their music until I met Becky at Kazan. While cranking out code at the best company I have ever worked for I'd listen to all the Breeders, Pixies, and Amps albums back-to-back. I fell in musical lust.
When I heard that they (Kim and Kelley Deal) re-united and were playing in Austin I wet myself. Since, as you know, I'm as broke as a very bad joke, an online pal offered to pay my way to the show. While I waited outside for an hour for her to show up, Kim walked by to check out the tattoo / piercing parlor next door. I didn't have anything snappy to say at the time, but in lame retrospect, "let's make a Deal" would have been apt. Doh!
My online pal flaked on me so I paid cash money for a ticket anyway. I was angry at myself for going it, but I'm very glad I got to see the show. I don't have the impression that they're going to be together for much longer.
Before the music came on, two different people recognized me from my website. I felt a little famous. Woohoo. I must be doing _something_ right.
I met up with Denise and Adriana before the music started. I love the fact that anywhere I go in Austin I run into people that I know.
The club was PACKED. Since Denise is like 4 feet tall, I led her up to the front so she could see. It's amazing how co-operative people are when they don't think you're going to stand in front of THEM.
Later Denise introduced me to the entire Book People crowd that she works with. I'm trying to get a job there. I now have five people's names to list as referrals. Score! Nice folks too.
Hearing all my favorite songs of theirs again was great. As they played, I watched Kelley's lips move as she mouthed the lyrics that she didn't sing. She was hypnotic. :swoon: Kim cut the set short because she was too drunk to play, and told the crowd that there would be no encore. "You're not mad at me are you?", she implored the audience, then left the stage. We WERE disappointed. A roadie came out to reinforce the fact that they weren't coming back on. A few people left. After a few minutes of probable chewing out from her sister Kelley (ex-Pixies, ex-Kelley Deal 6000), Kim came back out and conceded that they'd play one more song. Yay!
"No bye, no aloha" it was. That song rocks my socks.
Then they left. I don't think Kelley was too happy with Kim's performance and lack thereof. After the show Kelley said, "our next stop is Alcoholics Anonymous". The Kim-Kelley Deal Drama is still alive and well, apparently.
Natasha has been blowing my mind on a daily basis. Mostly in good ways too. It's pretty amazing how much I trust her. Things get kindof scary sometimes. Every step feels like a step in the right direction though. Sorry for being so vague. I'll keep ya posted.
Through my life so far I've grown to learn what's important and what's not in relationships. Honesty has got to be near the top of the list. I've certainly been a bastard in that department before. There is really no need to lie. To anybody. I think that people in general are insecure with themselves and don't believe that other people are capable of handling the truth. But I think they are. Not only do I believe that people are capable of handling the truth, but also very appreciative of it. It's such a scare commodity these days.
Realizing that we're all human beings and that we all make mistakes, and we all have the same basic drives and motivations is a big step. How can you get upset with something that you also see in yourself? Lord, my writing ability has gone to shit. I'll do my darndest to write more often.
This next week I'll be building a grand and fantastic website. It will shake the earth. It will be good. Very good. I'll give you a hint: it's a community thing.
Also, I am looking to puff my photography portfolio up with models, so if you're in Austin and want some mindblowingly awesome photos of you taken, or know of someone who does, drop little-ole-me a line.
That is all.
I redesigned this here website. That as fun. I'm diggin it.
Because I am tired, I will now sleep.
I redesigned this here website. That as fun. I'm diggin it.
Because I am tired, I will now sleep.
when you're young, time feels like it could go on forever. but it doesn't. our time here is like money in the bank. we spend it until it's all gone.
i'm glad to spend my time with you.
the image - SHIT
frazzle frying spattering
chemicals popping and hissing
like grease in a deep fat fryer
landing on pink skin
FUCCCCCCCCCCCK the howl is heard
the cursing cuss and blistered puss
fingernails dig into scoop the wound
soft and red and pure pain
scabs sear our cussing claws
pull apart like paper, the gentleness betrays
the wound - spites the spayed and neutered
cunt of a cat. inside.
they come without a warning and they stay too long
i don't want to feel
but if i run it'll be just as strong
i've been waiting
waiting for some kind of a sign
i try to seperate
try to seperate my body from my mind
i watch the clock
as the second hand slowly goes strolling bye
i don't want to feel
with a love once time's come to die
i've been waiting
waiting for some kind of a sign
i try to seperate
try to seperate my body from my mind
cold feelings in the night
you know this feeling just ain't right
and though i try i just can't hide
cold feelings in the night
yeah i got faith
but sometimes fear just weighs too much
i want to feel cold winds flowing through me like an empty touch
i've been waiting
waiting for some kind of a sign
i try to seperate
try to seperate my body from my mind
cold feelings in the night
you know this feeling just ain't right
and though i try, i just can't hide
cold feelings in the night
it's pretty crazy. i don't understand how i could be so thoughtless in excluding people from my life. anyhow, tonight was really nice. we drank vodka.
the russian people had to endure a lot of bad things. starvation. vodka is a good way of surviving starvation. those russians had the right idea.
a touch framed
a red sliver of glass
my drugged frame
my limp lame
another piece of ass
and then out of nowhere....
totalcorruption101: hey, who's this??
me: we fucked our brains out
me: you don't remember me?
totalcorruption101: John!!! hey what's up?
totalcorruption101: sorry didn't call; you back, been busy
me: hey hey
me: it's ok
totalcorruption101: not pissed?
me: i'm about to go to bed though
me: how could i stay mad at you?
totalcorruption101: not sure, lol,
totalcorruption101: sweet dreams :p
me: hitting the sack, night :)
totalcorruption101: hey call me soemtime and I'l come tuck you in again
me: this is Evan
me: i'm just fucking with you
me: (Link: http://koax.org)http://koax.org
totalcorruption101: fuck you
totalcorruption101: lol sorry
me: Johnny boy
totalcorruption101: lmao, I am sooo sorrry
me: you wouldn't make a good spy
totalcorruption101: lol, never said I would
me: it's ok, pretty funyn too :)
me: glad to see you've been getting your swerve on
me: the world needs more of that
totalcorruption101: lol, bet you were laughing your ass off over there
me: totalcorruption101: hey call me soemtime and I'l come tuck you in again
me: that's ripe! :)
totalcorruption101: lol, sorry didnt' recognize the name
me: no problem
me: you made me giggle
totalcorruption101: hey dude liked to be tucked k? lol
me: what rhymes with tucked?
totalcorruption101: lol, smart-ass
me: i think i need to break out the rhyming dictionary for that one
me: mind if i post this to my site?
totalcorruption101: lol, just don't put my name
me: night kid :)
At her request, I took my name out. ;)
A lot of misconceptions about equipment and film choice were shattered. It gave me a profound appreciation for lighting, a realistic sense about where I was within the field, a good idea about what the next steps should be, and how to get there. I have a list of books to read, magazines to subscribe to, and techniques to master.
In short, it blew my mind.
you can see it in a clear blue sky
you can see it in a woman's eyes
you can hear it in your baby's cries
you can hear it in your lover's eyes
you can touch it in a grain of sand
yeah hold it right there in the palm of your hand
feal it 'round you every day
and hear what i've got to say
god gave me everything i want
come on - i'll give it all to you
i saw it in the midnight sun
and i felt it in the race i won
and i hear it in the windy storm
and i feel it in the icy dawn
and i smell it in the wine i taste
and i see it in my father's face
and i hear it in the symphony
and i feel it in the love you show for me
god gave me everything i want
come on - i'll give it all to you
i can't stop - can't stop
i'm still looking now
god gave me everything i want
oh come on
i'll give it all to you
"crazy" you said, "it's all in your head"
i'm glad to spend my time with you.
Michaela swaggered in shortly thereafter. She was pretty easy to spot, standing at 5'10". I really need to work on my posture. I'm 6'2", and I found myself at eye-level with her for most of the night. We gabbed and drank and talked and gabbed. It turns out she knows my homie Mark (from Albany NY) from a hacking/drug IRC channel. It blows my mind still now.
"Dahebegebees" came on and I was disappointed. Then they played some groovy jazzy numbers and I shook my tootsie roll on the dance floor. They even covered Run-DMC's "My Adidas". Awww yeah.
We all went over to Ryan's house after the bar closed. On the way over I got nailed from behind by a red late model beamer driven by an inebriated bourgeoise motherfucker who promptly drove off. I didn't get his plate. :grumble: :grumble: If you can afford a BMW, you can afford insurance. That's what I'm saying. I guess he couldn't afford a DWI though, eh? Ahh well. It didn't so much as scratch the paint, but it twisted my NYS-rust-weakened muffler into the shape of one of those french pastries. Grrr. My darling Altima now sounds like a filthy hotrod. While I get an odd satisfaction from the testicular hum of the engine, I will replace the muffler tomorrow.
Ryan's pad was unusually chill. That's OK though because it allowed for scads more conversation. Michaela is 2 months younger than me. We got along marvelously. The world needs more of that.
Sorry I haven't written for a while. I had the idea in my head that if I didn't have anything exceptional to say, I'd best keep my mouth shut. I've had a change of heart. I'd rather satisfy your voyeuristic hunger and my publishing cravings rather than saving it for a rainy day that comes all too infrequently. Ok, I'm starting to use big words. Must be time for bed. I'll be updating daily from now on, so check back often, k?
until the flood-gates are loosed
the shutter gives way to the
pummeling waves of light
chemical bodies in excitation
crystalize into hard lines and smoothe curves
the creamy homogenaity titilated by
the graffiti of light
but beyond nonsense
the image left is real - undeniably real
like a taste in your mouth from the night before
despite our intentions
sometimes forgotten or shoved back into a drawer somewhere
sometimes faded, like a memory that's sat too long on the windowsill
photography is love.
the wedding was really pretty. it was held at the zilker botanical gardens (in the oriental section). i shot around 5 rolls of b&w film through the pentax and 1 roll of medium format b&w through the yashica. when they exchanged vows the heavily-makeupped judge asked ben, "will you take this woman to be your wife, etc etc", to which he responded, "yup!", "sure". she phrased the sentence so that couldn't be answered by an "i do". it was cute. little baby cute.
that was the second wedding that i've ever been to. i really dug the casualness and intimacy of it. mine will be like that.
food poisoning. i think i have food poisoning. at the reception i ate this delicious salmon ravioli from the east side cafe. i think it may not have agreed with me. if i sit still i feel alright, but every time i move around my stomach hurts. not good.
i'm super-excited about getting the photos back from holland phoho. this was the first time that i shot ISO400 Ilford HP5 plus. i should be scanning some of the better ones for y'all. they are set to be printed by wednesday.
i have a fever too. whatever is wrong with me is impeding my ability to compose words, so forgive the scattered-ness of this post. i want to peel open my skull and launder my brain with cool spring water. it feels as if it's bathing in molasses now.
i bit my tongue on the left side of my mouth three times last night, waking me up, each time, in the throes of excruciating pain. i think i may be grinding my teeth in my sleep. i need me one of them kung-fu mouth guards.
the past few days i have been doing some contract programming in php and mysql. for a long time, SQL intimidated me so i steered away from it. this job forced me to learn it. it turns out that it's all very simple, and very powerful. i really should apply for more of those SQL jobs. anyhow, i whipped together a php/mysql script that displays the monthly bandwidth usage of a whole buttload of subnets. it made me realize just how sharp my coding chops are, it gave me the satisfaction of building something useful, and it will pay my rent next month. woohoo!
now i just need to find a steady gig and i'll be all set.
while drinking homemade red wine tonight with my pal jeremy, i got to thinking of how incredible life is. if i declined rob shufelt's birthday party invitation in 8th grade i wouldn't have befriended tim. if i hadn't befriended tim i wouldn't have met brian. if i hadn't met brian then he couldn't have invited me out to shoot pool and dance the fateful night that i met wendi. if i hadn't met wendi, then i sure as hell wouldn't have moved to austin. if i didn't discover the ut-austin chapter of the acm's mailing list, then i wouldn't have known about (and attended) the job fair that landed me my first phat software development job. if i hadn't worked at kazan, then i wouldn't have met becky. if i hadn't met becky, then i wouldn't have known that st edwards existed, let alone sat in on a class, and eventually attended. if i hadn't attended st edwards, then i wouldn't have met dory. if i hadn't met dory then i wouldn't have met jeremy. if i wasn't laid off back in march, then i wouldn't have to be doing contract work now, and i wouldn't be sitting in dory and jeremy's kitchen drinking delicious homemade red wine out of mason jars, waxing nostalgic about life, and watching catahoula hounds licking each other's genitals.
it's really amazing.
life, that is.. ;)
going back even further, when my father and mother were en coitus, back before i was a sparkle in anybody's eye, if he had decided to wiggle a little to the right instead of wiggling a little to the left, i could be a girl now. or a dwarf. or even a republican. jesus, think of that.
every single moment, every single decision is a tremendously critical one. seizing or passing up even the smallest, least obviously significant opportunity sends a tidal wave of fate surging forward, unstoppably, and forever, irrevokably changing everything. everything.
everything. every decision changes EVERYTHING.
don't _make_ me use the blink tag. ;)
the bare white blank canvas of life stretches out before us. our paint is pure will. the capacity to create beauty and pleasure and adventure and life is but a willful stroke away. yet so many are reluctant to lift their brush. fear of marring the empty white serenity paralyzes them into an illusion of blank security.
life is art.
lift that brush.
and now i sleep.
a confused transvestite Akira with poor fashion sense
so which he responded, "seriously that guy is gonna like jump kick your face or something"
funny guy, that ben.
i discovered a secret cache of mp3's on my harddrive. it contains about 1.3G of miscellaneous mp3s from around a year ago. i'm currently listening to sonic youth & cyprus hill's "i love you mary jane". are you a pothead, focker?
i took natasha up to "le fun" arcade tonight. for a few quarters we had "le fun". har har har. those crazy scientologists tried to lure us into their cult again tonight.
crazy scientologist lady: would you like to take a stress test?
me: i already know i'm stressed
csl: but would you like to know where?
..and we kept walking..
natasha and i conjectured that they would do this by inserting their "scientology probe" into an unsuspecting passerby's rectum and then proclaiming, "there it is! the source of your stress appears to be .. your ass!"
and, of course, they would be correct. and then the person would be so impressed that he'd cut them a fat check.
because that's what scientology is all about: anal probes. just ask john travolta.
i've thought of the perfect response for the next time they try to coax me in there.
it was good.
natasha neglected to tell me that her dad was picking her up from school so i waited around for her for about a half hour. doh. i was all "grr". she appologized genuinely. she kissed my face. she rubbed my tummy. i can't compete with that. i just can't bear a grudge against that girl. i try. really, i do. ;)
ooh yeah, and she redesigned. go looky.
and in completely unrelated news: the weblog review is a big steamy pile of horseshit. the numeric scores that they assign to weblogs are completely meaningless because the review staff is so piss-poor (with the exception of a few reviewers). there is no consistency. it all falls on the luck of the draw. the quality of review ya get (as well as the weight of your score) depends entirely upon which reviewer chooses to review your site. and the reviewers there are sooooo bad (with a few exceptions). i have been ejected from my reviewer's position there for extremely weak justifications. i was the second most productive reviewer there last month too, producing around 20 reviews. the only respect for TWR that i have remaining is for the (few) quality reviewers there still churning out quality reviews in good faith. to those very few reviewers, hear this: no matter how good of a reviewer you are, and how many reviews you write, they will fuck you over in a blink of an eye. there is no loyalty and no appreciation. discovering fantastic sites like akacooties amd the mighty geek! have made this bitter pill a little easier to swallow. besides that factor, writing all those reviews was a giant waste of time. unless authors get a 5.0 they're gonna piss and moan and make personally defamatory attacks. yes, because they are fucking nuts.
this rant is over, and it's all pointless, and i'm not taking it so seriously anymore. i just need something else to take pride in.
besides my dashing looks.
it seems really unlikely to me that an airport checkin/pickup would be a target of a terrorist attack. and i doubt that an armed force of terrorists would attempt to attack an airport coming through the front doors. the dropoff/pickup area _is_ the most visible part of the airport. everybody going in or out has to pass through it. i think it's more of a gesture. "look, we're doing _something_"
the wtc and the pentagon were direct strikes against economic and military infrastructure. the anthrax shit seems to be more of a pervasive/disruptive strategy. and look who is targeted: big media. not joe blow your average shmoe. from all of these strategies, those big suspension bridges in san francisco would make great targets. hundreds of people would die on the bridges when they blew and lots of people wouldn't be able to get to work. plus, the third requirement: it's _very_ visible. i'm glad that i'm not living in san francisco right now. by the way, before you send me hate mail, i think it would be a horrible thing to happen and i hope that it doesn't.
hey, why are we bombing afghanistan again? all the suspected terrorists were saudi nationals.
here is a really good article (with not enough verifiable sources) that should get you thinking. when this all happened i reminded my loyal readers to "watch the oil". this article seems to agree.
i keep amassing books faster than i can read them. i've been chewing on "island" by aldous huxley for about three months. i don't read for pleasure very often. much of the time that i spend online is foolishly wasted. i'm gonna try to spend some more of that time doing enriching things. like reading.
i feel so good after i clean my room. i wonder why i do it so infrequently. :) i blame it on genetic predisposition. i've got a 'Y' chromosone, you know.
while waiting for the crew to arrive at dennys tonight, natasha and i vandalized each other's bodies with ink. she drew a couple neat sailor-style tattoos on my arms. one says, "MOM", and one says "NATASHA".
after only a few days the austin index is marvelously popular with 22 members and growing daily. that makes me happy.
sleep also makes me happy, so i think i'll do it.
before the show i picked up a sony tape recorder and an audiotechnica lavalier microphone. this is the first show i ever bootlegged. the tape came out surprisingly well. i didn't expect to be able to hear much of anything.
i got there around 9:30pm thinking they would go on soon thereafter. "schatzi" and "the good life" opened for them, both playing good sets. while waiting for superchunk to come on i spotted jim (their guitarist) at the concession stand. i introduced myself as a "big fanboy", yapped about austin for a while, then rubbed his bald head for no good reason. i felt like a lunatic. oh well, i'm sure he gets that a lot.
i just so happened to be standing next to sven, a guy natasha has been talking to for a few months. he introduced himself, blowing my mind, then watched the show with me in reverent silence of "the chunk".
they played mostly their new album, a few oldies-but-goodies, and one that i was never performed in front of people before. woohoo. and i have it on tape. nyah nyah nyah!
after the show i realized that i had lost most of the hearing in my right ear. we walked out into the parking lot and sven showed me his snazzy new honda motorcycle. and his little (like a spy camera) pentax 110 camera i inspired him to purchase. somebody had stolen the "C" from the marquee, so it read "SUPER HUNK". sven took a picture of that.
i grabbed a blueberry muffin from a very dead ruta maya coffee shop and moseyed on home.
good times, good times.
julie and i then drove downtown for a crash course in photography. she's on a plane en route to chicago as i write this. i taught her about aperture, shutter speed, and her light meter. she's got an old pentax spotmatic. the light meter is a bit wonky on it. we used the light meter in mine to gauge how far off her's was. she took three identical photos of ruta maya, one at 60, 125, and 250. the negatives all came out virtually identical. that really surprised me. i totally expected at least one of the frames to be either under or overexposed.
we had dinner at this fantastic vietnamese restaurant on oltorf just east of congress. i ate the entire bowl of food (which is quite a feat for skinny ole me). vietnamese tastes so much better than chinese. i could eat it all day long. mmmmm good.
we picked up diego and made our way to emos for the mates of state, mars volta, the anniversary, and those peabodies show. mates of state were all that i expected them to be. they put on a good live show. mars volta, which everybody worships because they're ex-members of at the drive in, really sucked. they all played their instruments well but the sound was a big ball of undifferentiated noise. there was nothing to listen to. there was no rhythm, no melodies. they had afros and they jumped around a lot. that's gotta count for something, right? the anniversary played mediocrely. i think they're more of a studio band. the sound was muddled and dirty. those peabodies rocked the house and provided a nice toe-tapping end to a fun evening.
after the show i met up with johnny, ben aqua, cristina, kelly, amd james for coffee at magnolia cafe. the idea was to get johnny hopped up on caffeine enough to pull an all-nighter. he had a five page paper to finish on brave new world. again, every time you get us all together, shenanigans ensue.
by the time my head hit the pillow i was a very, very tired boy.
the night was going great - we ran into people we knew - the music was good - the bands were dressed up in costumes too.
her mom called and a tsunami of negativity dragged our moods into the gutter with the puke, cockroaches, and discarded beer bottles. we left before the band we paid to see came on and headed home immediately. we got into a few completely petty and viscious arguments on the way too.
it's amazing how fragile happiness is - how slow it is to build and how quickly it can vanish - how hours of fun and good times can be dwarfed in significance by a 30-second phone call. amazing. and depressing.
in light of a new job prospect i've been brushing up on database skills. i'm still in awe of the austin webring thing i built. god damn.
months ago i realized that 99% of my friends were girls. i thought it'd be cool to meet some cool austin guys, so i posted a personal on yahoo explicitly stating that i was looking for "friends". i used the word "friends" like 5 times in a small paragraph. i even used exclamation points after one of them. "friends!!!" also, i explicitly stated "no scary gay old men".
well not only did i get exactly ZERO responses to the thing, but someone confused it to mean that i was looking for GAY SEX ACTION. how depressing is that? the internet is such a sleazeball place that everything is assumed to be sexual, no matter how explicitly innocuous it is. jeezus.
the internet is such a festering sore of depravity, and filled with cheaters and people with no morals or soul, "i have a boyfriend/girlfriend" is assumed to mean, "lets gets naked and not tell anybody", instead of, "i'm unavailable". fuck.
fuck the internet.
i am soooo exhausted. the past few days all my computer time has been sucked into THE Austin TX Webring. all other webrings pale before it's majestic beauty. php and css plus a dash of graphics from timmy come together to create a monolith of splendor. it's a graphic-design masterpiece in it's own right. supremely minimalist, functional, and clean. not a pixel is out of place.
now austin webloggers et al can find each other on the web. how snazzy is that? go check it out. it's the new AUSTIN link off to the right there.
i feel like a fucking god! minus the god.
still not a single response from my joke challenge. come on people you have lots of bones. at least one of them must be "funny", right?
i learned that signmyguestbook and diaryland are not in fact down.. but when i go to view them i just get the default diaryland page. i didn't have to recreate my guestbook in the first place. doh! it was fun hacking around in php though. i can view pages only through anonymizer, which leads me to believe that it's a problem with roadrunner's dns servers, or something. who knows?
oh.. another mortal sin of weblogging is "talking about geeky computer shit", which i am obviously guilty of. bad evan.
for guys, being the "first"-anything to a girl feels really special. today i felt real special.
here is a funny conversation i had with cristina today:
stinkyneedsacure: i such a genius
coaxed: the internet jesus
stinkyneedsacure: ben can be moses
coaxed: i dunno if he liked men though
stinkyneedsacure: sure he did
stinkyneedsacure: im sure he coveted his neighbors ass.
god DAMN that girl is funny.
everyone agreed that it was a great time and that we ought to do it again real soon. i'm glad i get along well with natasha's friends. if i didn't that would suck. it's rare that i meet other people that can make me laugh. really rare.
the night's perpetual rolling jokes got me thinking about the nature of jokes. i think that jokes should can be categorized like genus and species in biology. here is a while family of jokes that can be classified as "the negation of a backhanded compliment followed by an insult.
husband: you're so pretty when i'm drunk honey
husband: just kidding
husband: you're ugly all the time
LOYAL READERS: this is a challenge. email email@example.com with a joke that fits this form. the funniest response will get a cookie or something. and public recognition. you can use the guestbook too.
signmyguestbook.com crapped the bed a few days ago with no warning. i have no idea if it's coming back or not. so in the last few hours i rebuilt my guestbook in php from this hideous one. go sign it. now.
Upcoming rock shows:
monday oct 29: the butchies / lord douglas phillips / litter meet @ emos
thursday nov 1: the anniversary / mars volta / mates of state / those peabody's / jenny toomey / carlos @ emos
friday nov 2: superchunk / the good life / schatzi @ la zona rosa
nov 10: death cab for cutie @ emos
dec 2: man or astroman? @ emos
the most direct path home was along the "hike and bike" trail. the weather was beautiful and there were lots of people out walking and jogging around. it was really beautiful. the trail is fairly close to my house but i hadn't taken the time out before to walk and appreciate it.
i took photos of flowers, a drinking fountain, landscapes, and even a trio of turtles that were sunning themselves on a log as i walked by. i used the yashica (medium format) camera. i should have the pictures up on here within a week probably.
the whole experience was perfection. perfection in the afternoon.
i need a job. or to be in school. any kind of structure, really. it's about damn time. i'm goin nuts.
i took a political party quiz and got these results:
1) Green Party 76%
2) Reform Party 62%
3) Libertarian Party 52%
4) Democratic Party 52%
5) Natural Law Party 52%
6) Constitution Party 33%
7) Republican Party 29%
all of diaryland.com and signmyguestbook.com seems to be kaput. i wonder if they will come back. maybe it's time for a new guestbook.
and i've got one in my right eye. ugg. it's like a pimple.. inside my eyelid.
it really sucks. it looks like the corner of my right eyes is rotting. and did i mention that it sucks?
i'm supposed to microwave a moist facecloth and press it to the affected area. so i've been doing that. it's itchy too.
oh yeah, and it sucks.
we played some arcade games up on "the drag" tonight. she cut her toe up on a jagged piece of metal jutting out of the sidewalk. it sucked. we figure the scientologists put it there to wound pedestrians and lure them into their cult compound when they came seeking band-aids. on the way back to the car one of the cult members invited us attempted to coax us into taking a "stress test" that they had set up on the street. i quipped, "naw, that shit is wacky!" i guess ya had to be there.
on the way home we stopped to get some cheeseburgers (see first paragraph) at micky d's. every fast food restaurant has their own word for denoting that you want the largest size. wendy's has "biggie", mcdonalds has "super-size", burger king has their own word too. i can never remember which words go with which "restaurant" and i bumble out all the words i know that are synonymous with "big". so when we pulled up to the drive through tonight i requested that they "extra biggie super jiggy"-size it. so far as we could tell we haven't gotten spit served with our "food" yet.
you all should try it, it's fun.
also, this is really funny.
last night julie brought me to a rock show / party that her friends held down in san marcos, of all places. the town is very conservative. it's full of old christians. history has it that it used to be a "dry" town. pretty scary, huh? and just 20 minutes outside of austin.
her friends turned out to be supercool. the music was good and rockin. there was a campfire too. mmmmm fire. a sheriff showed up about 30 minutes into the rock music. the house is out in the middle of nowhere, but apparently there is a sound ordinance. old christian folk not appreciating the muffled satan music that reached them, no doubt.
tim is redesigning. i'm excited to see his new design. hopefully no more white text on a black background. here's hoping! you all should go over there and encourage him. i'm one of the only people to torment him ala his guestbook. for those that don't know tim, he's my best guy friend. he lives in albany, new york. for now. muhahahhaha.
i really have a lack of good guy friends here in austin. i'm not sure why that is.
i'm about to go meet jules at spiderhouse for copious conversation and a couple of cups of coffee. how's that for alliteration?
for you illiterate motherfuckers, go check out dictionary.com. it's invaluable.
natasha was upset today. her brain chemistry seems way out of whack and she's unhappy with her life right now. it really sucks. it's hard not to take it personally when she's hurting like that. i'm afraid the more i tried to help (by talking to her), the more i aggravated her frustrations.
i'm a fixer. i like to fix thing. ain't no problem my squad can't fix. i felt pretty useless today.
i got my emo pierced today
to see if i still feel
i focused on the pain
of my emo filled with steel
the music tears a hole
that old familiar sting
like jimmy eat world
AND the promise ring
now i am the most emo
of the scenesters at the show
my bag covered in buttons
from all the bands that i know
when i hear the music
my body starts to spasm
my eyes well up - my emo swells
and i have emogasms
my parents call me moody
my shrink calls me depressed
they don't know the emo heart
that beats within my chest
so if you see me out there
in clubs or on the street
wave and say "cheer up emo kid!"
because that's the standard greet
so tonight is friday night. big party night. woohoo. now i've just gotta figure out where.
heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere party party party....
1) carrying heavy objects
2) fixing shit
3) opening pickle jars
so this morning i felt pretty masculine successfully replacing my altima's car battery.
hold the pickle.
tonight i went to yet another rock show. this time it was "winslow". they played really good. julie and i had a mini-debate about what to call their music. it really didn't remind me of "emo". and not really indy. progressive with the guitarist veering off wildly... feedback.. the works. i like.
thought for the day: when they find the bodies and give me "the chair", my last meal will be a big chocolate brownie with chocolate syrup and a dollop of vanilla ice cream on top. mmmmm.
"There's a variety of theaters. So long as anybody's terrorizing established governments, there needs to be a war," he said in the interview, a transcript of which was released by the White House.
good fucking god. he's basically writing a blank check to wage war all over the place. i hope, as he says, people (including the UN) DO get "tired" of the "war on terrorism" and put an end to all of this. jesus.
the last time i posted current events some readers got upset and posted acidic shit in my guestbook. and the wtc/plane thing happened not much more than a month ago. it's startling how quickly apathy sets in. just pass the remote control and the cheeze doodles and let you back to your cozy little bubbles. apathy is disgusting. you should be ashamed of yourselves.
my car fritzing out has prevented me from getting much done today. what a bummer. more to come...
do you think that anybody has ever walked out of the dmv with anything but a sour look on their face? today i stood in line at the municipal court for an hour waiting my turn to pay a $10 "oops i forgot my annual car inspecion" fee. (pretty much a dmv-esque experience) i got up there and the ticket wasn't entered into the computer yet. such a waste of time. gah! so i get to do it all over again.
julie visited on her fancy new motorscooter. she is a big bad biker now, so you best watch out! i took pictures of her on it. i hope they come out good. she let me drive it too. vroom vroom! that was really fun.
natasha came over and we wrestled. i'm happy to say that the bleeding has stopped and the swelling has gone down. (and you think i'm kidding). heh heh heh.
my cell phone is in shambles. the flippy-up part came completely off. the only thing connecting it to the phone is the dangley little wire. i'm sad. that's my first cell phone ever and i don't wanna have to buy a new one. looks that way though. i think i've been missing calls too. i'm such a sentimental fool. it's just like "old yeller" .. except with more plastic and less golden retriever.
and what austin evening is complete without a good old-fashioned rock show? i met julie and kim at the ut ballroom for a free spoon show. (side note: they're on superchunk's label). i ran into david (a guy i know from a furniture store as well as a new-years party) and jaime (a late-night coffee-drinkin internet buddy). austin is so small. it really makes my day randomly seeing people that i know. the show rocked out pretty good. i didn't realize how much i liked em until they played a few of their really popular songs. yummy.
the post-rock-show nite-cap consisted of sipping coffee at spiderhouse with julie and kim. my damn car wouldn't start afterwards. i hope you all never have to endure the supreme embarassment of jumping a car off of a motor-scooter battery. god damn. naughty, naughty altima.
so after girl-talk i swung over to the friendly neighborhood grocery store for the following items:
1) petroleum jelly
2) steel wool
3) distilled water
4) a hagen daas caramel ice cream bar on-a-stick
i'll let you perverts figure out the rest.
i got my car inspected and deposited one of the last checks i'm gonna be getting from the state. i've got a few job prospects in the works. i'm gonna play it safe though and find a temp job through ut tomorrow. i'm gonna apply anyway. all roads lead to ut. i'm waiting to see the yellow bricks and prancing midgets in tights, et al. this is gonna rock.
a whole buttload of people have been visiting this site but not many have been signing the guestbook or writing me mail. i really care about your opinions on the new design, and the site in general. what do ya like? what do you hate? what would you like to see more of?
especially respond if you're in austin and/or have some sort of redeeming qualities.
it's immortality on a little square of film.
time to destroy and rebuild.
thunder is rolling and the rain is pouring down. the wind is buffeting my pimp austin loft. the night air is charged with magic. i wrote a poem.
i took that ricoh slr camera apart and put it back together again. twice. i think that building a camera won't be so hard after all. getting intimate with the guts of these things sure makes me appreciate the technology more. a whole lot happens when ya push those buttons.
i've been jonesing to take more pictures lately. hopefully i'll get a chance this weekend.
they described her technique as capturing the "art of seeing". her best known works had embodied irony, emotion, judgements, and composition. decisions. these photographs didn't posess those qualities. these photographs made no judgements. "the art of seeing"
so that's what i was thinking about at 2am driving to the grocery store to buy some cereal. it's a tough concept to get my feeble mind around. "the art of seeing" being conscious of what your eyes are doing - and what they're feeding your brain. feeling the subject with your eyes.. it's tones, it's textures.. the contours, the visual nature of the thing.
and "seeing" itself, the quality beyond just making sure we don't bump into things. the process. it's about the process, not the subject.
so that got me thinking in analogy as i often do. if there is an art to "seeing", it's probably close to the art of "being". the art of experiencing.... the art of living. where the destination is secondary to the ride. it's all about the ride. it's nothing but the ride, really.
i think a lot of my generation is in a rush to "grow up". a rush to achieve a degree / a job / a spouse / children / material success, and not necessarily in that order either. those are the big black dots on the timeline. "goal-oriented", i believe is the word they use. generation-y. they are more concerned with the destination than the ride. so they work 80 hours a week at internet startups, pump themselves up on all sorts of amphetamines and narcotics, sacrifice their health, their relationships. "goal-oriented". i cringe every time i hear the phrase.
there is an infinite number of little dots in between those big black ones, and i plan on appreciating them all a whole lot more.
so yeah - i'm looking at things a little differently today.
also, today i helped jeremy with some computer problems, and checked the balance in my bank account. i won't be sleeping with the pigeons just yet. yay.
i need to be around friends and i need some food.
i'm just really psyched at the prospect of working again. i'm gonna bust my butt this week brushing up on c++, java, etc. so if you don't hear from me, that's the haps.
oh yeah, i got snazzed up today. a tie and everything.
i was lookin slick. slick.
were you so confused?
was it just a giant leap of logic?
was it the time of year that makes a state of fear?
methods were the motives for the action
and did i hear you say,
"my country right or wrong"?
did you save your face?
did you breach your faith?
women, there were children at the shelter
now who can stop the hail
when human senses fail
there was never any warning - no escape
and did i hear you say,
"my country right or wrong,
my country oh so strong,
my country's going wrong
my country right or wrong"?
i hear you say the truth must take a beating
the flag a camouflage for your deceiving
cuz i know - i know
it's written on your soul
i know - we all make mistakes
midnight oil - my country.mp3
we chilled at julie's tonight. she was sicky sick. we brought her cigarettes and hagen daas coffee ice cream and arm and hammer toothpaste with baking soda. then we had a party and used all said products. i'm still sore.
i've got a new lust object. god help me. it's so darn cute. sigh.
job job, i need a job.
i've got some job prospects. i've been running myself ragged these past few days. between job hunting and friends and everything my sleep rhythm has gone straight to shit.
i added a bunch of offline content back to the site. check it out. oh yeah, and the webcam is new too. woohoo!
here's a trite cartoon re: the wtc.
i hope that my future wife doesn't force me to pretend that she isn't insane.
paid the rent. hit the library. god _damn_ the public library is cool. they letcha check out up to 20 things (books/cds/videos). you don't have to pay a cent for it. and when yer done ya don't need the figure out where to throw them away - which friend to pawn them off on - or which corner of your room they're gonna clutter up. ya just take em back. sha-weet! i checked out a whole bunch of technical books on cameras. i'm building a medium format camera from cheap parts on ebay.
oh no! i just installed ie6 because some chick that signed my guestbook said she couldn't read it under ie6, and i discovered that my site is completely fucked. i checked it under the latest mozilla, and it's fucked there too. greeeeat.
:getting out the mop:
natasha sent me this link. it's called "find your spot", and no, it's not a sexual thing, it's a test that tells you what cities you ought to live in. here are a few of my top ones. i'm not including ones like little rock, arkansas. no test in the world could convince me to live in a bumfuck state like that. here goes:
San Diego, California
New Orleans, Louisiana
Orange County, California
San Jose, California
Las Vegas, Nevada
Albuquerque, New Mexico
downtown doesn't give me the same kick as it used to. i'm not sure why. i don't need it anymore to get all the social satisfaction that i require. i'm quite contented by the quality time that i spend with the people that are close to me. i miss that old scene though. i miss those old friends. i miss the adventures.
but not too much. back then i felt like a wounded beast licking my emptyness with alcohol, companionship, and air hockey. distraction was the word of the day. i don't _need_ that now. i guess that's what i'm getting at. the bar/club scene for me was very much a habit born of social needs. now i get my fix elsewhere.
much cheaper too. my liver agrees.
i feel invincible.
i'm feeling lots better too. all this exercising and eating better really helps. i feel stronger just walking up stairs. my arms and legs feel really powerful. the other night while playing ball with natasha's friends i hopped fences like they were hedges and did insane skateboard tricks (for me).
i think a lot of people on antidepression meds would do good to get off their lumpy white ass and sweat a little.
natasha and i ate at the international house of hop today. we ordered a "rooty tooty fresh and fruity" - with strawberries. it's the most homosexually named meal i have ever passed through my supple pouty lips.
just thought i'd share.
natasha and i went to an art exhibit on 5th street today. it was disappointing. there were only a few pieces there worth looking at. we got all snazzed up beforehand though, so at least that part was fun. i just love dressing up.
after the lame art we grabbed some spring rolls at whole foods (where the cashieres were about to devour me), then swung over to the public library. i checked out a flannery o'conner book of essays and natasha checked out a book full of pictures of retarded people.
i think i'm gonna start boogering up this crispy clean layout with a bunch of links to my old content. that means that the old (green) site is going to bite the dust. so kiss it goodbye. muah!
i submitted reviews of a few sites to the weblog review today. if you're a weblog addict, go check em out for your fix.
natasha and jessi and cristina and I went to play mini-golf tonight, then to Zilker Park to play dodgeball and soccer and run through the sprinklers. it was fun. we skateboarded some too. for living as sedentary as i have been, i'm still amazingly athletic and coordinated.
i just got rated 9.8 on HotOrNot yesterday for this picture:
that made me smile. and gloat.
i'm trying to figure out how to bring up the rest of the content i have to this pretty new format. i'm gonna chew on that tonight.
i'm really digging these cascading style sheets. i was brain damaged not to have implemented them sooner. my e-friend maia put up a photo gallery if any of you are into photography: here. she shoots medium format as well as experimenting with different 35mm stuff. it's worth a look-see.
i went to a poetry slam tonight. i was in too much of a somber/mello mood to fully appreciate the poetry. it was much too theatrical and flamboyant.
the weather was chilly today. nice and brisk. it reminded me of New York on a rare beautiful days. on the way back to the car from the poetry show i sat down on the curb and listened to they might be giants play most of their concert at Stubbs. sitting there on the curb with my pocket full of money listening to a New York band who i saw many times in New York, and also ran into at a gas station, as well as in front of the museum of television and radio in the city, triggered all kinds of memories .. fond ones of home. of shaking my booty at their rock shows when everything was still magical for me. i felt magical again tonight. just sitting there.
about a year ago i realized this imbalance and began correcting it. i started writing every day. i took up painting, photography, and web design. i sucked at all three. i love the satisfaction of diving into a subject, flailing about until i can stay afloat, sucking, not sucking, and finally mastering.
i thought i was hot shit at web design until i met natasha. she showed me some exceptional sites that blew the doors off my then current site. so i flailed for a while, and now i'm back on top again. god bless css.
i figured out what made a good weblog too. nobody cares about the schedule of your bowel movements, or where you ate breakfast today. they come to connect. they come to identify and to be identified. they hunger for personality and hard assertions: the hot knife to cut through the butter of ambiguity, political correctness, and polite company.
..and that's what i did on my summer vacation.
the other day at the store i picked up the new tori amos cd. it's an album full of covers. it's excellent. the inside liner notes contains pictures of her dressed up in all different clothes and hairstyles. as if there was any doubt that she was the sexiest bitch in music. rawr!
i think that as long as i find a job that will let me pay rent, put food in my tummy, and not make me want to kill myself.. i think that's all i really need. for now anyway.
it's monday and the black cloud of unemployment hangs over my head like a gallows.
my new lifestyle (every day)
...and i've been feeling much better. thanks for not asking
natasha thinks this picture is handsome. i think it's scary. judge for yourself:
I got accepted to be a reviewer for The Weblog Review. I get to toss my opinion around like a big sack of potatoes.
I'm learning serverside Java and Perl modules to gear up for a job prospect. That has been keeping me very active lately. Well, as "active" as anyone can be whilst sitting on their boney white backside.
I'm massaging Natasha in lieu of Modest Mouse tonight. She did some cool new things to her website lately. Check it out.
I'm thinking about adding discussion forums to this site. That way all the whiney hypersensitive fucks will have a public outlet besides my guestbook. What do ya think? I realy miss the community-style feedback and input that BBS's had back in the day. Hrmph.
I'm gonna make an attempt to resocialize myself back into the warm inviting folds of society this weekend. Drinky winky dancey wancey, here I come. Oh damn I need to get to HEB to get these pictures developed. I'll finish this later....
Back! The pictures came out great. I was so excited by my acquisition of an Autofocus Pentax F1.4 50mm lens that I got a little crazy with the cheez whiz and opened the sucker up a bit far - resulting in a very short depth of field .. and .. blurryness. Doh! Does it disturb anybody else that "Cheez Whiz" has it's own little place on the internet? Like there are teeming hordes of black-and-white 50's style housewives who taste said product and are so taken by it's deliciousness that they rush to the internet to discover how they can incorporate it into more of their "meals". Yeah.
God, this entry sure took a cheezy turn. Nyuk nyuk nyuk.
I'm gonna so something radical to the look of this site. I'm gonna have what you see here be like the "second level" of the site. The "first level", or "ground zero" if you prefer, will be a weblog-style page with a little link on the bottom to the second level. Fun stuff. That way I can do radical style and layout changes to the front page (and look more like a traditional weblog) while maintaining all of the site's squishy green functionality and personality (aka "flava").
Natasha turned me on (what's new?) to Nesticle the other day. I downloaded a bunch of NES roms and played M.U.L.E. for the first time in years. Gyrus is still as queer as it ever was. :)
At HEB (a texas supermarket) I read a publication put out by the Better Business Bureau. It said that pirating software is unethical. Do any of you have access to Master Of Orion 2? I seem to have lost my copy.
Fuji Superia Reala ISO100 is REALLY goddam smoove print film. I am supremely impressed. If anybody knows how to get color slides and black-and-white negatives enlarged to around 12"x16" in a way that's suitable for framing (and not fading) cheaply, let me know. Like if any of you happen to be photography students (and have access to a darkroom) I'd be much obliged, and would make it worth your while. Bigger (like poster-size) would be awesome too.
I just transcribed the new Superchunk album. Here are the lyrics to Superchunk's "Here's To Shutting Up".
It's really amazing how completely we can adapt to our environment. Not even rats are more contentable than us. Whatever situation we're in - we can accept - and flourish.
I think that we as human beings crave stability most of the time. Something to add a little structure to the oceans of chaos. Change is a necessary and usually positive thing - if one can muster a positive attitude. Some changes can be for the worse, but even then, much can be learned.
Transitions can be uncomfortable. I think the trick to staying young and mentally fertile is to have the courage to trudge through the unknown and uncomfortable.
Instead of asking yourself, "do I like this?" try "CAN I like this?". It's a lot more productive. Of course, I'm one of the most amiable motherfuckers you'll ever meet. So mileage may vary.
To avoid making this one of those thoughtless over-generalized blogs I'll let you know just what I'm talking about: the scary transition from an independant indestructable single ladies man to a devoted and content boyfriend, the lame and inadequate floundering transition from a boring drag website to the present (and still inadequate) incarnation, the transition from being a software developer to just collecting checks from the state to gearing up to be a software developer again.
Also, my style in clothes has changed twice in the last year. It's important not to get too attached (pride-wise) to any one thing. Like a job. Or a style. I didn't think that I could be a good boyfriend. I thought I liked girls too much. But then I gave it a shot and found that I could.
My particular mind is driven as much by dissatisfaction is it is by the prospect of a better tomorrow. It makes it convenient for the purpose of burning the useless bridges of the past. I have an apendix - but I don't use it. It's like that. You might wonder if I suffer from identity dilution. Nope. I'm the same person - albiet a growing one. I love the fact that I appreciate such a wide variety of interests, people, music, attitudes, hobbies, art, etc. I love being a writer, photographer, software developer, artist, pool shark, poet, lover, political activist, dancer, and socialite all at the same time. I think the more things in this world that we can relate to - the more things that CAN make us happy - the better off we are.
I felt ripped off when I listened to the first Superchunk CD that I ever bought. Upon successive listenings, however, they started to grow on me. Now they're probably my favorite band ever.
I see people get so whiney when thy have bumps in their normally smooth upper class male American lives. And no I'm not talking about buildings getting blown up et al. I'm speaking of those aryan fucks who get upset when you let them know that they just parked their BMW in a handicapped spot. Money doesn't buy happiness. It can work just the opposite if you don't have the right attitude. Material happiness is a very real and valid satisfaction. Stuff makes me happy. I like taking lots of pictures and playing with cameras and computers and traveling and driving zoomy zoom shifter cars and going to movies and rock shows and someday wanna own a big ole house and yard and puppy dog and children. All that stuff takes money. If one doesn't have the money for it though, then that's the carrot in front of the donkey. That's the item of lust. It's something to work towards.
People whose means are greater than their apetite for stuff often are just as miserable as those who don't have the means. People like to hunger - people like to lust for just a LITTLE extra. If one doesn't have to worry about how to pay for rent or the new Mercedes, then one's mind may turn to power (political, social, sexual), or conquest (military, economic), or drugs or destruction.
This is how I justify being broke and happy. ;)
You are a human being.
All human beings are imperfect.
We are all imperfect.
The things we do don't make sense.
We are squishy imperfect machines.
Brain chemicals suck.
I drank too much last night and got real emotional.
I puked my guts out, and chicken parmesan.
So, so messy.
I want to wash my brain out.
I don't want cruelty to be a part of me. I'm sorry.
I'm a dumb imperfect human being, and I'm sorry.
The Al Hakam factory, which Hussein said produced animal feed, was found to have produced 50,000 litres of anthrax and botulinum. According to UNSCOM findings, Iraq has produced 19,000 litres of botulinum, 8,400 litres of anthrax, 2,000 litres of aflatoxin (produces liver cancer) and clostridium (gas gangrene). Iraq has admitted to arming ballistic missiles with botulinum, anthrax, and aflatoxin. Saddam said the VX nerve project was a failure. He has now admitted producing four tons of VX nerve agent. Over 600 tons of VX precursors are not accounted for. These could make 200 tons of VX. One drop of VX is enough to kill dozens.
bin Laden big ballin':
Officials from intelligence, military, emergency management and national security agencies say bin Laden is branching out: planning assassinations using �contact poisons,� obtaining �rudimentary� chemical and biological materials, trying to acquire radioactive material.
bin Laden + Saddam 4 ever:
The U.S. alleges that on two different occasions in the early 1990s, a senior religious leader from Iran met with bin Laden's representatives in Khartoum to discuss putting aside religious differences ( bin Laden is a Wahabi Muslim, Iran is Shiite ) and cooperating against western interests.
Saturday morning Biological Weapon tidbits:
"Intelligence reports suggest that some of the Russian samples have made their way into the hands of terrorists, and this lay behind the US Government's announcement last month that it intended to keep its supplies beyond the June deadline."
"terrorists".... wonder who _they_ could be?
starting to see the big picture yet?
Here is a bunch more information. After WWII the US took Palestine from the Palestinians and gave it to the Jews. The nation that they formed is named Israel. The Palestinians' religion is Islam. The Islamic population of the middle east resents the presense of the Jews in their former homeland. The US and Israel are very tight. Many Jews in the US have family there. Over the years there has been a lot of violence over the land occupied by Israel.
During the 80s when the Russians invaded Afghanistan, bin Laden led Arab resistance fighters against them. They were funded (and probably trained and armed) by the Central Intelligence Agency. story here.
Sometime since then, things have changed. We must have pissed them off pretty bad. I haven't figured it out yet. I'll keep digging for you, dear reader.
My previous entry may seem overly unsympathetic to the NYC disaster. I mourn for the loss of my New Yorkers. I'm sad and angry. War is so bad. If we don't use this horrible event to become more aware of the US's presense and actions in the world - and discover the "why?" - Why would eighteen men give their own lives to blow us to smitherines? What did we do to prompt this action? And when we discover the answer to these questions, we will be compelled to act on that knowledge. We will be morally obligated to hold our military accountable for it's actions. We will demand it of our politicians, of our children in the military, and of our business leaders.
The curse of consciousness is responsibility. We can no longer afford to blindly feed the machine that is the US military. We can't afford to step on so many toes indiscriminately. We have felt the sting.
This country is extremely vulnerable to terrorism. All the money and precautions and technology in the world cannot stop a single man who is willing to die. We must become a better neighbor. Our neighbors have teeth and are willing to use them. They have shown us this much. Now is the time to learn that lesson.
Long story short, the Russians and the US have been shitting on Afghanistan (where Bin Laden is) for at least twenty years. The country has more buried landmines than a teenager has pimples. As recently as Clinton, the US dropped lots of bombs on them. We killed hundreds of civilians.
Next time you hear a newsperson describe the act as "senseless", the act of a "lunatic", etc... realize that there is always a reason. That reason is as close as a quick internet search on "afghanistan russia bin laden". While not as expert on the matter by any means, I think it's pretty safe to say that if in fact Bin Laden is indeed responsible for the attacks, he certainly has more than enough justification.
Consider how bloodthirsty we are now: we are angry because we were attacked. we are angry because innocents were killed. we want revenge so badly that we're willing to slaughter innocent Afghans (men, women, and children) to strike at Bin Laden. Is it any surprise then, considering history, that Bin Laden is willing to attack us, and kill our innocents.
Bush is a war-loving pig. I think that we SHOULD "make a distinction". It's called "Justice". It's this concept that maybe innocents shouldn't die for the politics of their government. It's the concept that two wrongs dont make a right. And maybe for once that's what we're getting what we deserve. An eye for an eye.
This was our wake-up call. This was Bin Laden shouting, "hey you imperialistic pigs, how do YOU like how it feels to be bombed?". The day of the attack the Afghan government stated, "we feel your pain". They know exactly how it feels to be shit on from the sky. While you're at it, ask the Vietnamese if they can, "feel our pain" too. I bet they can relate.
Instead of seeking peace we're war-mongering. The military is strong and ready to roll. And roll we will. We want blood - and we will have it. They hate us for good reason. They attacked us and they're not white, so we should blow the shit out of them. Blood, we want blood.
We are angry. That anger unites us as a nation. That anger lets us feel rightious when we murder.
"God bless." - George W. Bush
Wake up. Think. Take an hour out of your sheltered little life and read up on history. Make up your own damn mind.
The story here.
Afghanistan -> USSR = Vietnam -> USA
most of the above facts were derived from the above links. the opinions expressed are mostly mine. i'm angry too.
This is the largest act of terrorism on US soil. Ever.
All flights have been grounded until further notice. As of now there are still planes in the air that may also be hijacked.
Each of these planes originated from the northeast en route to the west coast. That means that they had a full load of fuel. Jet fuel goes boom. Boom boom boom.
There have been terrorist attacks on US stations in the middle east, but nobody pays much attention to those. The world trade center buildings were so huge. Everybody in NYC knows somebody who work(ed) there. These attacks hit us locally, and they hit us hard. And we will have blood for this. The American people will demand it.
Another thing to consider: The world trade center towers are the most obvious comercial/civilian target in the nation. lots and lots of human casualties. The Pentagon is the most obvious military target - not so many casualties, but extremely symbolic. Both civilian and military targets were hit.
A blurb on television suggested that the destruction today will be used as justification for the erosion of civil liberties in the name of increased intelligence capacities. Watch out for that.
Thank fucking god it wasn't Anthrax or Nukes. It easily could have been.
So I'll leave you with these question: Why? The "who?" seems to point to the middle east. I read in a magazine that the largest chunk of the US military's budget... billions of dollars goes to just paying off one of the middle eastern nations so they won't attack the other. Whose toes have we been stepping on over there? Who did we piss off? I wish I was more informed on this topic. Like so many in the US, I haven't cared enough to adequately research it. It's far, far away, after all...
I invented a few games this past month. Check em out.
My sleep schedule is officially back on-track. I wake up at 8am without extreme discomfort. For those of you who know me: no, Evan has not been body-snatched by space aliens and replaced by a bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed double. I've been sleeping really well.
Two nights ago I went to storytelling event at Ruta Maya. It sucked SO MUCH ASS. It was massively overproduced and tremendously undertalented. Natasha and Johnny performed a stunning and pointed performance where Johnny recited a story criticizing the shallowness and homogeneity of the vast bell curve of society while Natasha did interpretive dance in a big poofy pink Barbie princess dress while a small Casio keyboard tapped out the beat to Trio's "Da Da Da". She bawled on stage. It was fasntastic. All the other storys were as boring as shit. A particularly nausea-inducing performance was these two people (a couple) (with bad fake tans) telling the story of how they met and fell in love. They made googley eyes at each other the whole time. It was pathetic and distasteful. I'm glad we had found chairs by then because I couldn't stand to watch it.(sic)
The internet is everywhere! I ran into Jessica (a cool chick I've been meaning to meet up with for the last couple months) and her creepy-ass ex-boyfriend. And everybody knew everybody somehow. Spookyness!
Natasha and I saw Ghost World yesterday. I would recommend it. The lead character has a boomin' body. The cinematography is quality and beautiful. There are lots of funny scenes too. Two thumbs up.
Now where's that jobby job... hmmm
For the last few days I have been escorting Tim (the websiteless) and Karen around Austin. I introduced Tim to Weezer-esque skinny people clothes at Buffalo Exchange. Boys look better in clothes that fit them. I'm gonna recycle my baggy skater-era clothes.
I seem to be getting back on a somewhat regular sleep schedule. I got up at 8am today. It's crazy how long the day is when one gets up this early and doesn't have to work. Whodathunkit?
After critically considering my internet usage for the past few days, I have concluded that email, building websites, reading a few select weblogs, news/humor sites, and researching stuff are the only worthwhile uses. Everything else just sucks time away. Chat has got to be the worst.
I picked up a book on Cascading Style Sheets at Book People today. It seems like the non-retarded way of making pretty websites these days.
God I love photography. Another Natasha shoot has been developed. God what a beauty. I'm gonna save my money for a slide scanner, I think, instead of paying $1 for each 4x6 print. If anybody knows of a free or cheap way to get slides scanned or printed, let me know. If anybody has one, I'll do all the work. Just show me where.
I added a guestbook. Go sign it.
I'm gonna make an arty website.
I'm hungry. This is why I can wear skinny-people clothes. :)
evan go sleep now.
She has made me a surprise gift. I'm practically peeing my pants in anticipation! I love surprises. All her friends at school are jealous apparently. I wonder what it issss. :>
I'm working on shaking my addiction to the internet. I resolved to not let myself become addicted to anything bad, and I feel that I am now. Chat rooms were the first to go. They are generally so degenerate and disrespectful, and so incredibly inhuman. They suck up time and give no sense of real community, friendship, or companionship. "Suck" was a good choice of words, too.
I went through and deleted all of the lame-o sexual weirdos from my instant messager programs. Then I went through and deleted the people that I didn't know and had no intention of meeting. I have discovered that for all the positive social aspects of internet culture, there are also very destructive and dehumanizing aspects as well. Before accepting a technology into their society, the Amish consider if it will have an overall (and longterm) positive or negative affect on their quality of life as a whole. They use cell phones because it encourages closer family connections. That's sortof like the process that I'm going through now. Keeping the good and boiling off the bad.
The personals are particularly addictive. I've met a lot of cool people re: the personals, and for them I am incredibly grateful. I also met a bunch while in "vampire cock" mode. Those are the people that I just deleted, and often regret ever knowing. The personals make it so that the "red light district" is just a few keystrokes away. I'm gonna kick it though. If there is _one_ thing I have, it's willpower.
I am an attention whore. I am glad to have discovered that I can get enough satisfaction from friendships, acquaintences, and companions without actually sticking my dick in them. I have been building better relationships in the last few months, and have been feeling less nasty about the people I talk to on here.
In "As Good As It Gets" starring Jack Nicholson there is a line that goes, "you make me want to be a better man". When I was in single-mode I was damn good at seduction and conquest. I strove to be the most attractive bachelor on the planet. Turning that off was hard to do, but I did it. Deciding to be Natasha's boyfriend was more than just a resolution to date one and only one (incredibly great) girl. It was a resolution to become the best god damned boyfriend on the planet. The energy has been successfully rechanneled. And what a lucky girl.
It is what we humans do in the absence of reward and punishment which seperates us from the animals. Ethics, morals, codes of honor, standards, our conscience. Lacking an activity that converts my raw creative energy into cold hard cash (aka, "job"), I have let loose the lion on my own damn self. Watch me become a better man. Just watch me.
Tonight I took Karen and Tim to see Littermeet. They're awesome. The singer is a female version of Kurt Cobain. Everybody in the band is super cool. Anyhow, there was a guy in the audience dancing like a lunatic. What he was doing looked like a cross between ska-mosh-thrashing and punk-rock-breakdancing. Very wild! At first I thought, "whoa, that guy is nuts". And then I saw how beautiful it was. I love to witness people expressing themselves freely (and outragously) without regard to what anybody else thinks. Beautiful, fucking beautiful.
Julie surprised me by showing up at Emos tonight. She brought along a nice guy named Nick too. I bummed a ciggie from him. Agression is such an obnoxiously toxic personality trait to me, especially for a guy to have. (girls can sometimes get away with it because they're nice to look at) I like guys without "teeth", without that sharp agressive edge. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Nick was one of those good kinda guys.
At the mall today I picked up a deck of square playing cards. It goes along with my whole "fuck rectangles" mantra. Squares are beautiful, rectangles are ugly. It's hip to be square. no, really. Here is concrete proof. Mmmm. Medium format photography.
Tomorrow I get my "surprise" from Natasha as well as her sweet lovin' arms wrapped around me. I can hardly wait.
Lies are so destructive. Lies to ourselves are the worst of all. Fuck, I better stop before this turns into a Henry Rollins song. ;)
My grandparents used to say, "be true to your teeth or they will be false to you". That really doesn't have anything to do with anything, I just thought it fit.
Natasha and I went thrift store shopping the other day and picked up some super sexy "skinny people" clothes for me. We tried different outfits on in the dressing room. I looked like a model. With each outfit I tried on I said a phrase that cooresponded to the character that I resembled. It was real fun. I love playing dress-up. And get this: I left there with 8 articles and sixteen dollars less in the wallet! :) woohoo.
In the evening we met Julie at Ruta Maya. We yacked and yacked and sipped coffee and smoked cigarettes and played chess and yacked a little more. She's really cool. Our first new mutual friend! Best of all, she's not an obese hideous multiple-personalitied internet psychopath. Woohoo!
Natasha is so sweet. She made me a mixed tape so I don't have to listen to christian evangelists, NPR broadcasts, and tejano music while driving around in my Altima. She's got awesome taste in music. The first song on the tape was "the girls just want to be with the girls" by the Talking Heads. I had never heard it before, but it sure did rock. She put a lot of energy into it, I could tell. She even put cool artwork on the cassette case.
I feel special.
and sleepy. nite nite.
It stirred up a lot of anger in me that I didn't know was there. I saw "Scott" tonight. My adrenal gland dumped it's load into my bloodstream. I walked up to him ready to tear his eyeballs out. I introduced myself and told him that I didn't appreciate him making out with my girlfriend. He said "you would do the same thing if a hot 17yo girl who had a boyfriend asked to come over and get naked". And no I wouldn't. I told him that I wouldn't. I told him that "there were plenty of single girls out there, and you don't have to go making out with ones that already have boyfriends". I had "respect, honor.. dignity", SOMETHING! I wanted to look him in the eyes but his gaze shifted left and right as he squirmed in front of me. He did look me in the eyes though when I shook his hand agreeing to "no more problems?".
The critical information that I _learned_ from this conversation was that his take on how it went down was that Natasha PM'd him asking to come over and get naked. Natasha's story is that she expressed her lonelyness and it was _he_ that suggested coming over, with the alcohol and nakedness (in that order) -just sortof happening- afterwards, and that it was -sortof mutual- about who initiated the "coming over" idea. So now I've got a decision about who to believe. This spineless fuck who has a clear and concise story, or my sweet girlfriend who "doesnt remember exactly" how it went down. And does it fucking matter? It's just another fuzzy splinter of distrust. I want to accept her story carte blanch, but my better judgement dictates otherwise.
I'm mad at myself that I didn't make her feel special enough. I'm mad that she didn't think that I really liked her. I'm upset that she "wouldn't put it past me" to mess around while up in New York. Before I left for NY she said, "you better not go kissin strange girls when you're up there". And I said that I wouldn't. And I said the same thing to her and she said that she wouldn't. Whoa, while typing this I realize that it WAS explicitly exclusive. Well what the fuck.
Ok, so there's another lie. She lied to him about me being non-committal. I _had_ committed, at least so far as to not mess around with anybody else. As did she. Well fuck.
I believe in Karma - that what comes around goes around. We're rewarded for good deeds, and punished for bad deeds, all right here on Earth. Good meaning obeying the ethical codes that we place on ourselves, and bad meaning when we disobey them. Our conscience determines black from white.
And what a lucky guy Scott is if his conscience doesn't chew his insides all to shit for the damage that he has perpetuated.
I feel like I had all this coming to me though. I feel like something the cat drug in. I deserve to feel this way because I made Jennifer feel like something the cat drug in about ten months ago. It came back swiftly and in disturbingly exact measure. This reinforces my faith in Karma/divine justice. (incidentally, she didn't forgive me)
So we figured out, dear reader, just now, you and me, that she bold-faced cheated. Now what? A lot of you are probably thinking, "dump the dumb bitch". If you're male (thus obsessed with justice), you might be thinking, "so go get frisky with some other girl". Those are both good answers. And what a PUSSY I am for not choosing one of them. What's this Jesus-like "turning the other cheek" bullshit. It certainly doesn't make me feel any better. Should I opt for going "non-exclusive"? There are certainly enough cute girls around who'd love to get their paws on yours truly.
Trust fucking eats my lunch. I have a hard time trusting myself too. It took much willpower to NOT chase all those girls. I was in "single-mode" and very happy with it. It would have been SO easy (and fun). Gah! I told myself, "i want to do this _right_, i want to keep this _pure_, i don't want to have to lie or hide anything from her". And what a big fucking idiot I was!
Ok, ok, that was then, and this is now. Things have changed. We have grown a lot tighter since then, and I believe her when she looks in my eyes and tells me that it won't happen again. I feel a lot for this girl. A scary lot. She fits me much better (overall) than any girl I have ever dated. We click physically, musically. We both love photography. We compliment each other intellectually- my creativity is most analytical, hers is more aesthetic. It's a left-brain right-brain kindof thing. I'm more dominant, she's more submissive- we don't clash power-wise. I get along splendidly with her mother (who is a superbeing in her own right.). Everything just fits so fuckin' good. I couldn't easily throw that away. And I don't want to.
I feel like a sucker. I feel stupid, and I HATE feeling stupid. I want my self respect back god dammit, and I want to trust again!
Montgomery Wards has closed up shop recently too. Target and Walmart ate their lunch. K-mart is next. When I worked for GEIS, K-mart was their largest client. Boy was that EDI stuff backwards and expensive. My position was a permanent patch over a fundamentally screwed process and technology. I dug through EDI data files by hand eyeballin' for errors. At least I learned vi there. By the time I left I was writing shell scripts to replace me. PG&E was another of our clients. The guys I talked to on the phone always had Texas accents. This was way before I moved to Austin. Ever see Erin Brockovich? They were the bad guys. I drove past an oil well of theirs on the way to Port Aransas. It was pretty neat.
Speaking of neighbors, I used to work with Natasha's neighbor Eric. Not only that, but Eric was at the UT Job Fair where I met the company that I was with for the next 14 months (before the economy went to hell). Eric has crazy Linux skills. I bumped into him tonight coming home from Natasha's. Long story short, I've applied for a QA position at the place he's working. Java, Perl, very exciting! Much gratitude, Eric.
In the meantime I'm hitting up all the temp agencies tomorrow. It's funny, I've been in the computer-track for so long I have no idea what other skills I've got, or what kind of positions I'd be good at. I know that I can do a whole lot of things well, it's just a matter of how happy I am at em. For example, I wouldn't inventory retail stores or work at a rollerskating rink again. Working with people would be pretty fun though. Shrug.
I moved my room around again. It's looking nice. Good feng shui. My roommate drives me nuts. I'm gonna lay down some law when he gets back from South Padre. He's gotta clean after he cooks, and he can't let things rot in the refrigerator. That seems reasonable, doesn't it?
It's been rainy and miserable the last few days.
Natasha has been getting a lot of compliments on her webpage lately. That makes me feel good. (I built it.) In computer-related news, I am closing my accounts at all the matchmaker/personals sites. And then I'm giving her my main mail password. An act-of-good-faith kindof thing. Also, I intend on posting increasingly more personal information on here. You may think it's nuts, but I find it very liberating. The world could use a heaping helping of honesty. Fuck "mystery". I wanna shuck my psyche like so much corn. I can do that.
I like what's underneath.
I'm looking forward to -sleeping- with Natasha. This king size bed needs it's queen.
I'm -frantically- building up my portfolio as the sound of employers NOT howling for me fills the air.
No news is good news.
Update: after writing this entry I walked out to the pool to smoke a clove cigarette and I stepped in a lump of dogshit. I thought that was worth mentioning.
I've been reading Huxley's "Island". It's chock-full of philosophy and extremely useful "cheat-sheet" style life lessons. Consider the following:
"We cannot reason ourselves out of our basic irrationality. All we can do is learn the art of being irrational in a reasonable way."He also does a good job of matching personal temperament to functional spiritual practices. When considering a man in deep trance, intoning the same 7 words over and over again, the main character asked if that was what he would recommend for a young person just being introduced to a spiritual path. The other character replied, "Not unless she were unusually jittery or anxious.", and recommended meditation instead. It's all in chapter eleven.
The book is really fantastic. Everybody should read it. "Island" gives the dominant world philosophies an even-handed working over, and in an easily digestible and non-threatening way. My mom should especially read this book.
An extremely fun game that I bought the other day, that Natasha and I just played for the first time tonight, is Taboo. It's a ton of fun. Everybody who visits me in the next few months will be subjected to hours of it each day. You have been warned.
Earlier in the day at the "503" coffee house we played Chess/Trivial Pursuit. In order to successfully attack a piece, the offending player had to successfully guess one out of the questions on the trivial pursuit card. That was a lot of fun too. I'm really good at Chess and she's really good at Trivial Pursuit, so it worked out. She knows the names of all these obscure silent movie stars. Blows my mind.
Maybe I'll start inventing games. Hmmmm.... If any of you internet weirdos have good game ideas, mail em this-a-way. Fusion games are welcome too. (ex: chess/trivial pursuit) One rule: alcohol can't be a primary aspect of the game. (ie: no drinking games) That would be too easy.
Because if anything, I'm a challenge.
So I got the grande tour, including the gymnasium, Natasha's locker, the cafeteria, the lost garden.... See why I felt the need to embellish? HIGHSCHOOL. woo.
Last night I made a commitment to churning out some good portfolio-building code. Being in Linux makes me want to code my butt off. I got the soundcard working, then I got it sounding GOOD, I got my aol/yahoo/irc clients all set up, and I configured enlightenment all purdy like. Orion Server is still installed from the JSP-platform research I did with Kazan, so Java development here I come. Time to rock!
Those of you not accustomed to geek-mode Evan, please tune out the rest of this paragraph. If you run Linux and your soundcard sounds like ass, try the following: 1) adding "append=no-hlt" to lilo.conf, 2) disabling "PCI Delay Transaction" in the BIOS, and 3) physically moving the card away from the other cards (especially the video card), 4) lower the baseline of the equalizer about 3/4 way to the floor. (i'm using xxms (aka x11amp)). You'll probably have to raise the mixer settings for master volume most of the way up to compensate for this. 5) mute all inputs that aren't being used in the mixer. It sounds darn good now. :-)
Now I just have to get the USB scanner and webcam working and I'll never need to enter Windows ever again. Muhahha. Unless someone will pay me to, of course. ;-)
I'm gonna go grab some late-night fast food. Woo!
Armed with my new resume, I am confident that I'll find a good job within a month. Hooha! I have begun building up my portfolio too. It looks pretty slick so far. I'm going to try to get a good representation of my coding prowess up there.
Natasha did a particularly good job of soothing the savage beast that is Evan today. Tim (who doesn't have a website yet) and Karen are visiting me in early September. Mandy may also visit in a few months for a tattoo convention. She totally changed her "look" for a job. Here's a before and after shot of the ...
Marvelous Mandy Makeover!
|Chain-smoking tattoo-toting pierced badass from Strong Island!|
|So-ho art student who just happens to shop at the gap.|
Lisa Loeb just called. She wants her look back. Lisa Loeb:
I'm gonna get an ass whooping for that one for sure.
I met Jaime tonight at Mojos. It was one of those random middle-of-the-night why-not-meet-a-stranger kindof things. The tea bags proved defective, the donuts were free, and the conversation was contagious. She's got a cool television production job and travels all over the world with CNN and stuff. I was impressed. It sounded like a lot of fun.
I miss having a doggie. My Nazi apartment complex doesn't allow them though. Seeing as I will be starting work soon (positive thinking), I wouldn't have enough time for one anyway.
On the way home a neon-illuminated storefront triggerred a visual memory of looking down at the ground from a low-flying airplane.. at night.. as it was preparing to land. Everything was so desolate and quiet and such a nice glow to it. I remember thinking that it seemed like the city was an ant farm. The little ant cars illuminate the little ant roads. Ants shouldn't fuss too much about ant-doings. It's silly to. Really.
Check out these fascinating pictures. Mad props to Jaime for the link. I think photography may be a permanent interest. I figured out the trick to photography tonight: Take pictures of things that you or other people would like to look at again. Pretty simple, huh?
I'm a simple guy.
The answer: Distraction! We're supposed to stay good and distracted. The structure and rewards of working usually goes a good job of keeping me distracted. So does reading. So does sex. Sleeping works remarkably well too. Music.
I now understand the anaesthetizing appeal of television.
Idle hands are the Devil's playthings. And that's a fact, Jack.
I moved my computer around on the table here. The Feng Shuy is much better now. No more hunchy back. No more staring into the corner. Yay.
Check out how secure a boyfriend I am: I'm going to build Natasha a web gallery so that leering Nintendo-playing internet weirdos may better drool over her luscious perky breasts. ;)
I've got one job prospect now. When I want something I really go for it. After the technical interview on the phone I got on the internet and found the answer to all of the questions that I missed and mailed them to him. I was surprised at all the isoteric computer knowledge that I have kicking around in my head. I'm SO ready to really ENGAGE again. The great thing about computer stuff is that the answer is ALWAYS answerable for the resourceful.
Yeah, time to find a job. :)
Natasha and I joked later that the place was run by "Le Mafia". And you better not mess when them or you'll end up sleeping with "Le Fishes".
Japanic opened up for Peaches and they ROCKED. The lead singer could really shake his groovy thang. He jumped out into the audience and hugged on everybody and sang in their face too. I love that kinda stuff. Some redneck homophobic guy in front of us sassed off to him. After the show Natasha thanked him for a good show and I appologized for the asshole. He said that it was OK and that the guy "didn't know what he was talking about." Very cool. Men who can dance. Good times! Natasha said he moved like beck. He had that skinny white-boy wiggle goin' on.
I bought Natasha a "XXX Peaches" t-shirt which I'm gonna take a picture of and get it up here for y'all asap. Hello Nurse! :) Peaches took the stage and the crowd roared like a lion. That reminds me, Wesley Willis is coming to Emos! If you don't know Wesley Willis, let me give you the 411: An obese mildly retarded ex-homeless black man speaking over a drum machine about various things. And the song on the drum machine doesn't change. It's the same beat for every song. He's a legend. Needless to say, I wanna go.
So she took the stage and the crowd roared like a lion! She sang and stripped and hopped around stage with her mullet. We boogied our bootys off right up front near the stage. The music sounded a lot better 1 foot away from our heads than it did at Coney Island a few weeks previously. She's from Brooklin. She has a mullet and she knows how to use it. She "doesn't give a fuck". And that's all you need to know. Oh yeah, here's her website.
I bumped into Mellisa online tonight. We met at the Makeoutclub party last week. She's pretty rad. She wears those sexy "geek chic" glasses. Go read her site.
There is a University of Texas Linux mailing list thing that I subscribe to. Last night a mail came across looking to fill unix administration positions with a local game company. I stayed up all night updating and polishing my resume up. It sounds very promissing. Cross your fingers for me.
Daddy needs a new pair of shoes.
I added this white box around the main site content after a few hours of shaking out IE/Mozilla weirdness. I've got a new strategy for job-hunting. I'm going to write all different kinds of programs and link them off my resume. That way potential employers will be bedazzled by my mad coding prowess and throw fistfuls of green in my general direction. First on my list: a php web gallery. Then some java stuff.
Walter's friend Kyle (the guy that was visiting) decided to move in. That makes rent even easier. That's a relief. I could sure use the $. He's good company too. Feelin' good about it. Kyle is 34, Walter is 54, and I'm 23. It's funny that I'm the leaseholder - and thus the head honcho around here as far as rules and stuff go. Kyle likes to clean. That's a definite bonus. I was so dumb to live alone when I had a job. All my money went and went - plus I got so depressed from not seeing anybody. Roommates are a good thing.
From talking to Rachel (Natasha's mom) I'm excited about college again. I just need to figure out what I want to study. I would sure like to be able to say that I have my degree right now. But oh well. I may take some community college classes soon. I may apply to UT. Who knows.
I just discovered Praga Kahn today. They're like Lords of Acid, and they're fantastic. Awooooooga! "Injected with a poison!" I'm in love. My poor neightbors. I've been thumpin' it. I SERIOUSLY need to get my booty out and dancing.
The photo shop's printer broke down so the awesome pictures won't be ready till Saturday. There is a cute "caveman" picture of me on it's way. I just know you're itching to see that one. In related photographic news; I bought a Pentax AF 50mm f1.4 lens at the Camera Co-op right down the street. I was really unsatisfied with the Sigma 28-80 zoom. This lens is super slick. I can take pictures in very low light now. I can take very shallow depth-of-field shots. It's nice and heavy. Lots of glass. I be jizzin'. That's my birthday present. :)
I'm feelin good about the design of the site and my chances of finding good work now. My thirst for material things has been increasing, as my savings has been decreasing. I've got a few materialistic lust-objects. Maybe I'll make a wishlist or something. Hrmph. But first things first!
bomp chi-chi wow wow!
The thrill is gone - the thrill has gone away.
Where I have chosen to apply myself - I have failed. My site sucks, I'm not a very good software developer. I just lack the spark. I lack the courage to be bold with design, and I lack the discipline to code like a motherfuck.
I'm embarassed at the weakness that I've exposed of myself here, yet if I abandon this site as a psychological dumping ground, then it's only virtue - it's voyeuristic appeal, is gone. I know I'm taking this too seriously. But it's one of the very few places that I have challenged myself in the last 6 months, and I have failed.
A life of fucking and drinking beer and going to rock shows and goofing off with friends sounds really good about now. I didn't take a lot of chances when I was young. I wouldn't take a chance on something unless there was a good chance of success. I mastered game after game. I never got caught when I did bad things - I anticipated. Then I discovered girls and social situations - I mastered them too. I'm nice to look at. I smile at people - and mean it. Those two facts account for 90% of where I am in life. And it's feeling flimsy now.
There is something fundamentally wrong. It seems like people are being born with so many brain cells that living complete, contented, and happy lives is impossible. There is something lacking socially, spiritually... something. The peg not fitting the hole begs the question: change the peg or the hole? It's tempting to burn enough brain cells out with dope and booze to be happy. But what if that's the wrong choice? See, I'm always worried about the alternatives. I'm worried about missing out. What if I could find a use for those spare brain cells? It intuitively feels like a cop-out.
I am not an artist. I create to pacify. I have this energy that needs to go somewhere. So I paint. I make websites. I write shitty poetry. I flail around on the guitar. These outlets no longer adequately serve that purpose. The energy remains ... builds up ... and ultimately paralyzes me. And sometimes I just create for someone else to pat me on the head and say, "you're smart", "you're funny", "you're slick", "you're a good boy Evan".
If you have a website, link me. If your friends have sites, have them link me too.
... and tell me what a good boy I am.
Natasha and I met up with William and his friend Jen at Ruta Maya around 8ish, grabbed some grub at Waterloo Brewing Company, then headed out to Emily's Makeoutclub party. No, I'm not becoming a swinger. It's a rock and roll thing mom, you wouldn't understand.
We all expected the party to be chock-full-of-pretentious-rock-kid attitude, and that's basically how it was. You know the kind: scenesters taking themselves far too seriously and preoccupied with appearances and fashion and being cooler than the next shmuck. Amidst this tension was the pretention. But beyond the pretention were some really cool and quality people.
Emily (the hostess) was super-cool, and managed our teeming hoards pretty well, especially considering 90%+ were complete strangers. We wore nametags:
Pretty geeky, huh?The first wave converged on the party all at once. Then half left to go find some food. Kindof weird first thing to do after first getting to a party .. but they drove from far away so I guess it's allowed. Stella the dog was a good sport and greeted newcomers with a happy bark and a dumb, happy nose. Then she chewed on a beer can.
I met Janice for the first time (who happens to have a really slick website). She had a little Fuji digital camera too - I'll try to grab some pictures for here.
And here they are:
Adriana (a-lo) showed up randomly (and fabulously as ever) with her roommate Stephanie. Christine was there too, and got all splishy splashy in the pooly pool. Kelly gave me a good book recommendation, "The Fermata" by Nicholson Baker.
Most of the evening consisted with mingling, playing with the dog, hamming it up with cool and questionably-creepy peeps, smoking other people's cigarettes, and drinking Lonestar beer.
A bunch of people swam in the pool. I wish I had worn underpants .. I would have SO been in there. Damn it's hot. Janice played AC/DC. I shook my booty in the living room.
And that was that. Here are the upcoming shows that I plan on catching:
Aug 11 - Nada Surf/Ozmo&Rilo Kiley - Mercury Lounge
Aug 11 - Litter Meet/Handful - Gaby & Mo's (punk rawk!)
uh ohh.. conflict here....
Aug 16 - Peaches/World Provider/Japanic/Toof - Emo's
Aug 17 - One Fifth Griffith/Spoon Fed Tribe - Room 710
Sep 20 - Modest Mouse - Stubb's
Aug 14 - David Byrne - The Backyard
Aug 17 - Wesley Will/Shazam/U.S.S Friendship - Emo's
Aug 24 - Rollins Band - La Zona Rosa
Sep 02 - Square Pusher/Plaid/Mira Calix - Mercury
Stalkers are sexy.
but even better => link me.
Those are some good genes there. Mmmmm.
I diddled my design a little more. Now all the navigation is on the right side. I'm kindof not liking it. It will probably go away very soon. Sometime in all these orgys of redesign I apparently nuked my resume. Joy!
Tonight we went mini-golfing - the game that we're about equally matched at. There are a whole hell of a lot of good bands coming to Austin in the upcoming weeks. The Modest Mouse tickets don't go on sale till like August 26. Doh! After looking through the Chronicle we dressed in drag and smoked by the pool.
The pictures came out AWESOME. I've added "cocacola" to my pics on here. A lot of the really great shots were on slide film, so I can't get them to the adoring hoards until tomorrow probably. There are some GREAT ones on there, so you'll definitely wanna stick around.
Mom just let me know that my relatives have started reading my site. That's pretty neat.
I'm gonna try to rectify this design issue before the night is through. Awwooooooooooooooah.
I'm stressing a bit about my ability to find a good job. I've been scouring Monster tonight and it's all weird niche positions that are hiring. Yikes. I think I'll get my Java learn on hardcore for the rest of this week. Gotta do something.
While clicking around on Austin clubs tonight I discovered Erin. She's in/around Austin and has some crazy photoshop skills. The model is a guy. I know: whoa!
I realized today what a lousy and neglectful friend I am. All six of my major Austin friends and I haven't seen any of them in more than a month. I suck and I miss ya.
My mom wrote the below poem. I'm really excited that she's expressing herself creatively, and I thought I'd share it with all of you.
Poem written 8/7/01:
About a little bird that had been found
with an injured eye and unable to fly.
The eye was restored to sight, having
debris removed from the site.However,
after nurturing to return to nature she
was seized by a hawk. This is memory
of our little "grey" bird.
"Little Grey" (bird)
When I happened by; you had but
one eye, and
took you home; now you were
You were so sweet with your
little "tweets", and
Now you could see and belonged
so I thought.
It wasn't long before you grew
knew this happiness
could not last.
In my heart you will
I will "always" remember
You appeared and changed
Natasha stumbled on a character quirk of mine today. Her creative, design, talents/instincts are much strongser than her coding skills, whereas I'm the opposite. so I offered to code her up any design that she wanted. Non-chalantly in the car today she told me that she was having someone else build the site for her. She had forgotten my offer. I got upset. It's like bringing your car to jiffy-lube when your husband is an auto-mechanic. That got me so stirred up that I sat down and cranked out a new and very distinctive design, rife with her favorite colors, an awesome graphic and smoove navigation. So without further ado: here it is.
Tomorrow I resume my hunt for a jobbie job. A friend of Walter's is staying with us for a while. He's in-between places right now. Good taste in music. Nice guy. Better hide the sex toys.
I posted my second entry on Index42 today. What a buzz! I think I could get really into the whole internet sub-culture thing.
Yesterday we went on a photo-shoot in Austin's beautiful "green-belt". My nefarious subject was as beautiful as ever, the sun shone brightly, and the shutter snapped true. I've been shooting with Fuji 100 slide film. I forget which grade. I can't wait to see how they come out.
I discovered the band "Paw" on Audiogalaxy the other day. Their song "Jessie" rocks my socks off. This is a MUST for all you rock/dog lovers. Audiogalaxy is cool like that. When you search for an artist it suggests other artists that you may also enjoy. What sweet magic. I have discovered a few great bands that way. I actually applied for a job there (at Audiogalaxy). They're located in Austin right across the bridge from me. Too wild.
This has gotten long enough. Nighty night.
I have been accepted to my first web-community type thing. Index42. woo! I'm really excited about it. No longer will my wackyness be contained to just his site. I can't believe it took me so long to get involved with something like this. I called BBS's a TON in highschool. When the internet came the scene went extinct. This is obviously the next incarnation of that spirit, yet I was pretty slow on the uptake.
In March I wrote some negative and one-sided things about the girl that I had just broken up with, Jennifer S. My head wasn't right back then and I wrote to help me through the loss. Time heals all wounds though, and we're on good terms now. I'd like to publically state that I was as much at fault as she was in all of the messyness, and that overall I'm grateful for the lessons learned. I'll certainly not make those same mistakes again.
I got a call from Karyn today! Woohoo! I miss my old Austin homies a lot. Hopefully we'll be able to get together this weekend. The "Iron Triangle" will be reunited. Oh yes.
For the past 3 days I have been cleaning my room. Do you remember the Oreo's comercial from the late 80's where the little girl loves her Oreo so much that she savors her delectable cookie a nibble at a time. That's how I clean my room.
Oh great, now I'm jonesin' for Oreos.
Sleepy time. Zzzzzzzzzz.
Oh yeah, this rectangle thing. I have plunged neck-deep into web design. Web design has assumed the prominent driving creative force in my life. I started a yahoo club: AustinWebDesigners. I have been pouring mucho energy into my site. I'm even whoring for links. I am sick of looking at sites that are dominated by rectangles. All these blogger sites look the same to be. BORING!
I think that a computer/electronic media type degree might not be so bad for me. If UT has one it's probably hella competitive. RPI had one called EMACS, but I don't live in Troy. Duh. Something like that would be good though.
I am building a medium format camera. I'm really excited about it but nobody seems to appreciate the idea. I guess I've gone off the geek end.
I walked around Zilker Park with Natasha today and took a bunch of pictures and taught her how to drive the shifter car.
I need a job. Evan go sleepy now.
I have recently plunged back into photography. Medium-format photography has also captured my attention. I've been trolling ebay and other sites for cheap medium format cameras. My friend Dory sent me this link. She designed and built that site. I am totally in love with the square film format. Yum.
My birthday was Saturday the 29th. Happy birthday to me! I'm an old fart now. I'm figuring out what I should buy myself for a present. I have been drooling over medium format cameras and a Line6 POD (guitar amp-synth thing).
Natasha has been stimulating a lot of sexual/creative energies in me lately. It's so cool having someone to share common interests with. Also on that front, I'm settling into being non-single. I was happy before, and I'm happy now. It's just different, and I like it.
Pondering what makes a website rock/suck, we unearthed an extremely obvious and oft-overlooked bit of wisdom. Sites where the writer describes their life as if seen through a security camera (ex: got up. took a shit. went to a rock show. smoked pot. went to sleep.) are hella boring, require virtually no talent, and are very common, while sites that create original content, stimulate new thought, and express an individual's opinions are engaging, compelling, addictive, worthy of the reader's time, and are significantly more rare on the Internet. So I'm gonna make an honest effort to keep this one's signal/noise ratio up.
Oh yeah, and that everybody loves bunny rabbits.
Also, there is a world of difference between sites where the designer has graphic skills and sites where the designer just has brain damage. I'm really sick of looking at rectangles. All these blogger kid's sites look the same to me. Mad, mad rectanngles.
In musical news, I discovered Sleater Kinney. They rock. Download "All hands on the bad one". It's delish. They did a cover of "Rock Lobster" too. Gotta love that.
I bought a pair of Teva RS Universal while in New York. I'm contemplating having them surgically attached to my feet. They're SO comfy. If only I still had long hair, I could have the whole Jesus-look going. Ahh well. Jesus wasn't white anyway.
No, he really wasn't. And if he was, not many would have listened to him, most likely.
I could really use a job about now. A job and a milkshake. But mostly a job.
Some time ago I was messaged by a woman while downloading massive Superchunk bootlegs from her. For about a year we chit-chatted on and off. The woman was Julie. Julie lived in New York City. When I planned my trip home, Julie offered me her couch if I came down for the Siren Festival. I accepted the offer.
I woke up, and with a lump in my throat, took to the highway en-route to New York City. I had never driven in the city before. It was a bit daunting. Entering the city was a marvel in itself. On the drive in, for twenty minutes, every fifteen seconds I was compelled to exclaim, "Holy shit, that's BIG!", upon seeing a building, the city itself, a bridge, a highway, a billboard. Despite insanely dangerous traffic, I arrived. I met Julie at a street corner, she directed me to a parking lot, and we walked to a bar where she was celebrating her going-to-Seattle party.
At the bar I inbibed a tasty beer or two, hammed it up with her friends, basked in the supreme coolness of my surroundings, and tried my best to catch my breath. We played with Julie's digital camera and small yellow ducks. (pictures coming soon hopefully).
After that we headed back to Julie and her husband Paul's apartment with half the crowd that was at the bar. We sat and talked and ate birthday cake, (Oh yeah, it was Julie's birthday too!), and watched Spinal Tap on DVD. I slept on one of those foam-mat type things like in gym class. It was very comfortable. I laid up and read "Island" and occasionally took breaks to watch the goings-on outside their window on the streets below. I discovered that the whole "city that never sleeps" thing isin't true after all. It just doesn't sleep AT NIGHT. ;-) Like me.
The next morning we went for egg sandwiches at a neighborhood convenience store and ate them on benches in Central Park. We witnessed an entertaining spat between a couple of homeless people, narrowly avoided being shit on by a pigeon, watched and talked about dogs walking by, and sipped on our coffee.
Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, we caught the F-train (subway) to Coney Island for the rock show. We saw Enon, Peaches, Rainer Maria, Man or Astroman?, and Superchunk. The last three were VERY good. During the Superchunk set, Mac wished Julie a happy birthday. That was special. :) I was really surprised that the crowd wasn't more mobile than it was. Everybody around me basically stood still, or may have bobbed their heads, while I appeared to be going into an epileptic fit of pogo-ing and rock-show-induced physical excitement. How can somebody NOT dance to Superchunk? I don't get it. Maybe it was because it was hella hot. Who knows. And it WAS hella hot too.
My eyes were really bothering me and we were completely wiped out from the five hours of sweltering heat and music, so we headed back to the apartment. Julie wrote me out very good directions, I picked up my car at the lot, and three hours later I was back in bad-old Albany.
Just outside of Albany I called Tim up. It ringed his phone, but he didn't answer so I left a message. I invited him to Quintesence to dance to some excellent techno/house music. Jennifer Haley was spinning, after all. Quintesence was right next door to Valentines, so I thought I'd poke my head in there first to see what was happening. I heard a band playing. I handed the guy at the door a five dollar bill, and he handed me back a five dollar bill. He thought I gave him a ten. Woohoo! Good thing too, because the band there sucked ass. I would have hated to have spent ca$hola on that.
I went next door to "Q" and met up with Jennifer. We hammed it up about old times and the future of the Albany scene, and painting. I danced my ass off, and then THOROUGHLY exhausted headed to Tim's house in Schenectady. We planned on my sleeping there that night. I took the wrong highway and ended up near a rifle range near Rotterdam. I had studied marksmanship in highschool. My instructer was Sgt. Dowgas. When I realized that I was close to the range I felt compelled to drive down the country road to see it again. When I awoke the next day my mother told me that Sgt. Dowgas had died a few weeks ago. That was the first time I was back there in 6 years.
It turns out he just fell asleep somewhere. I drove all the way home to my parent's house in Schaghticoke. I fell asleep in the back seat of the Oldsmobile in their driveway. I woke up in a pool of sweat, moved to a cot in the back yard, and finished my beauty rest. When I awoke my mother told me that Sgt. Dowgas had died a few weeks earlier. It's crazy coincidences like that that make me suspect that there is more to the world than meets the eye. I am crazy rested now. Yay.
A few days ago I agreed to go steady (and exclusively) with Natasha. I'm all crazy and insecure and freaked out and I hate it. I don't trust the world to behave consistently, I don't trust other people not to flake out, and I don't trust myself. I get posessive and aggressive and angry. After the painful romantic relationships that I have been in, I guess that I learned how to be happy without being vulnerable. And now I'm vulnerable again. The water-tight doors have been opened, and the stupid ugly emotions are all a-swirl. I hate it.
On a related note, I am debating which way to go with this site. This site, for me, has been an exposition of vulnerability. It has been a vehicle by which to bring my innermost thoughts and emotions up to the surface, and even more than that, to make them public. This leaves little to the imagnation, which was the point, after all. For somebody to be able to spend some time here, reading my thoughts, and get a pretty good idea about who I am. Well apparently, people are more excited by mystery and superficial cockyness. So I am considering removing large chunks of this site that express my vulnerability. This includes most of my poetry, and select other writings. So enjoy them while they last, because they will be gone soon.
The next day Tim slept over at my old pal Kenny MacDougal's house so I drove all the way back to Schaghticoke to sleep. I slept in the back seat of the Oldsmobile to avoid my dog/cat hair allergies. It was amazingly confortable. Lush leather seats. Good times! During the night I was awoken by a nagging voice somewhere in my head saying, "hey.. hey Evan.. you're going to suffocate", so I opened the car door. The fresh air felt so nice. The next morning I awoke to the sun shining bright and warm on my face and Trixie, the best cat in the world, pawing at my head. She managed to squeeze her way into the car through the narrow space that I had opened the car door. I gave her MUCH LOVE and rolled out of "bed". It was definitely one of my more pleasant awakenings. :) Go see the "Beware" pic for a not-so-pleasant awakening. hehe.
I spent most of the day at home with the 'rents. My mother is caring for a baby bird that she rescued from the clutches of Trixie probably. I dug up some worms in the back yard for the thing. I then bathed, changed, and headed out to Borders to pick up some reading material. I have read a TON this vacation, but mostly newspapers. I bought Aldous Huxley's "Island". I hear it's his best book. We shall see. I haven't even finished reading "Brave New World" yet.
I called Tim up and invited him out drinking at the Lark Tavern with me. I really haven't spent much time with Tim since being home.. he has to work so much and all. Hopefully Nate's girlfriend will hook him up with a $13/hr internship position with the state. He's got crazy fresh graphics skills, and he's getting paid less than entry-level positions pay. That makes me mad. Well anyway, recently Tim has started drinking. One step further down the path of hedonism. Aww yeah. We drank Spaten Dark, Killian's Red, St Pauli's Girl, and Michelob Honey Lager. Tim likes to stick with what he knows. I like to try things that I've never tried before. We both like cute girls and light beer. ...and sometimes, that's enough.
We went 1-1 shooting pool. I scratched like a flea-bitten dog. Then we stumbled down Lark Street in a drunken haze to the Chinese restaurant there. Tim was so good to buy me dinner, as I bought his beer. We reminisced over fried rice and General Tso chicken. MMmmm. On the way out a woman walked in. She looked very familiar. I asked if her name was Jennifer.
"ahh, you used to spin at the Launchpad! You're the best DJ I've ever seen"
So basically, I gushed all over her and then she invited me to a show Saturday night at "Quintesence", which is near Valentines, she said. I finally get to hear some good house music! Woowoo! Here is the background information for those of you reading who aren't acquainted with the 1998 Troy NY techno scene. The Launchpad was a legendary club located in the old "Stanleys" building on 3rd Street in downtown Troy. It was only in existence for a short while, but had an incredibly huge effect over my life. The night that I met Wendi we went dancing there. Between the dimly lit atmosphere, the couches, and the sweaty dancing bodies, I mustered the courage to make the moves on her. Three years later I followed her to Austin.
Anyway, back to Jennifer. I don't know if it was her raw spinning talent, or her taste in records, but this girl made music like nobody's business! I could dance all night to it without getting bored. Now getting TIRED, that's another story. Austin doesn't have the likes of her. Austin loves Trance. Bah. Trance can eat my ass. Austin needs a Jennifer Haley.
In a nutshell, Jennifer Haley is my techno superhero. Bumping into her at a Chinese restaurant two years after last seeing her REALLY MADE MY DAY. Woowoo! I'm sure you're all really as excited as I am about this whole Miss Haley thing, so I'll end with this. Saturday is July 21. I am going to see Superchunk at the Siren Festival on Coney Island during the day, then driving back up to Albany to catch Jennifer spinning at night. Oh, and I plan on meeting the 'chunk too!. So I'm set to personally meet my two favorite musical artists from their respective genres on the SAME DAY.
I think that I may pee my pants!
I got to the airport right on time, checked exactly zero bags, and boarded the plane. I sat next to the nicest Indian lady with the cutest little Indian boy. Indian like India, not the pow-wow kind. His name was pronounced "Dan-Yan". More like "Don Juan" than "Daniel". He was nine months old. We made faces at each other. It was too cute.
There was about an hour layover in Atlanta so I picked up a New York Times to read on the plane. I thought that it might pacify my growing anticipation of being in NY again. It didn't. What it did do was stir up a whole lot of political consciousness that I didn't know that I had. I read articles on campaign-finance-reform, a proposed missile-defense base in Alaska, bison-grazing vs wheat-growing in the nation's grasslands, and others. It got me real stirred up. I started to realize just how much goes on that I have absolutely no idea about. It was very upsetting... so I decided that I will start writing political and world news factoids and editorials on this site. I think that people should be much more aware of what is going on, and secondly, I think that they should care.
So stay tuned for that... here is a quickie: Who is the leader of the Russian Federation? (the answer is at the bottom of the page. If you didn't know it - I didn't before yesterday - then you should be upset. Every educated american should know that.)
I met Tim at the Albany airport. I gave him a big hug, then walked out the sliding glass doors into fresh Albany air. Mmmmmm. I was emaciated from the long-ass plane ride, so we swung over to an old favorite hangout: Western Avenue Dennys. We ate and talked and talked and ate and ran into Mike from LaSalle (my highschool), and some friends of Tim's. Albany really doesn't change. The same sheep run with the same herds, and the same wolves run with the same packs. And they all eat at Dennys.
We crashed at Tim's place and the next day he dropped me off at home (in Schaghticoke). My mom gushed all over me, and my dad showed his love in his own way, and I met all the animals, and I started sneezing. After talking to them and catching up on life news my head turned into a giant ball of mucus from all the dog and cat hair around. So boogied on out. The car wasn't much better. The hair was EVERYWHERE, and sneeze I did.
I made the rounds, driving here and there, revisiting sacred places, and not-so-sacred places.. just dusting off the memories. I ate at the Famous Lunch in downtown Troy... my grandparents used to bring me there when I was young. The last time I was in NY I brought Soy there. We ate hot dogs and rice pudding. It was cold and snowy. We sat and talked. The taste and texture of the food brought the memories back strong and lucid. I missed her. We should really keep in touch better.
After that dream-sequence ended I meandered back to Dennys for a cup of coffee. I sat and sipped and read Wired. Justin, Doug, and a friend of theirs were sitting in the corner. They're buddies of mine that I met through Rich. They all do software development. We shot the shit, caught up, swapped numbers, etc. It was good. I love it when I run into people that I know. That is what I missed about Austin for so long. That is starting to change, thank goodness.
I went back to Tim's, did his dishes, watched him flirt with some internet girlie, then crashed on his futon. The next day I finally met Rachel. We ate at the Brandywine diner, which is just down the block from Tim's pad. She then proceeded to show me around the finer parts of Schenectady (OK, finer PART). I picked up a "Metroland" newspaper, which is an Albany-version of the Chronicle. It's about one-third the size, and it's full of full-page ads. The car began making my eyes puff up almost as badly as my parent's house did, so I headed home to clean the car.
When I got home there was a huge truck in the driveway. As I pulled in a little Indian girl scampered into the house. An old friend of the family was inside, Billy Arsenalt. His son was there too. The little girl was Billy's other son's step-child. She was as sharp as a tack. She was nine years old. She asked me to tie her jump-rope into a cowboy lasso. In my best Texas accent, "I was happy to oblige...". I vacuumed the car out and windexed the windows and cleaned the leather seats. It no longer reeks of dog-ass. Good. I'm gonna be practically living in it for the next two weeks.
I was dressed kindof nicely, so I thought I'd go dancing. I went to this one club that I saw advertised in the Metroland, "Sneaky Pete's". It was supposed to be the hottest club around. It turned out to be pitiful. Austin just eats it's lunch. An old, fat, balding man spun far-too-repetitious trance beats. The guys looked like they popped out of a cookie-cutter. The girls were homely or aloof. The scene was SO SO dead. I danced a bit, worked up a sweat, thought alcohol might help the situation, discovered that it still sucked buzzed, and left. A 21yo birthday-girl puked on her shoes in front of the place. Mmmm good times.
Then I stayed up all night writing this, because I love you all far much more than I love my health. I hope you can appreciate that.
;-) Answer: President Vladimir Putin
So I hope you like it.
In related news, I have decided on a tattoo. What do you think?
It astounds me that anybody in Texas can manage to get a license. I spent mucho time dicking around today making phone calls and driving all over hell's green acre to only get one small step closer to getting a TX license. Sigh.
I leave for NY tomorrow. I'm pretty excited. I can't wait to see my family. It has been far far too long. I get on a plane tomorrow. And a bunch of hours later I'm in NY. Mahvelous.
You know it's bad when ya need to take vacations from your vacations. ;)
Back to packin'! woohoo.
I spent the beginning of today with Natasha. I grabbed my welfare check from the mail and picked her up. We grabbed some coffee at Flipnotics, and also picked up some Toy-Joy coupons that they were giving out at the register. We sat and talked about web design and school and how dumb life can be sometimes. Then we headed up to Toy-Joy to spend them coupons. Shortly after arriving I ran into Tamara and a friend of hers. We gave her a coupon. We had 3.
Austin is SOOOOO small. Tamara and I chilled one night at IHOP a few weeks prior. I feel like I belong here now.... and it's a great feeling. Everywhere I go now, I run into people that I know.
God bless the internet.
My pal Tim told me that the Pope has declared some old dead dude the Patron Saint of the Internet. Timmy's family is Irish Catholic. He has what I like to call, "Original Guilt". He's 23 and just finally starting to shake some of it. I'm proud of him. I'd link him if he ever got his page together. Come on Tim, snap to it! The teeming hordes of internet hotties are waiting for ya. ;) Isin't that bizarre about the Pope doing that? That will be reason number one million and one why I am not Catholic. Them Popes man, that much be one boring gig. I'd like to think that the Pope did it for publicity.. to give the church a more modern bend... and not because he discovered the alt.binaries.pictures.* newsgroups. What a fuckin' weird world.
I'd like to start a petition to declare me the Patron Saint of Internet Porn. I think it'd be really popular with the kids. I need to buy shirts with smaller collars.
Troy, NY is the "Collar City". The Arrow Shirt company had a factory there. They made collars. There is a bridge there. They call it the "Collar City Bridge". Collars were where it was at. My mother's parents met there, making collars. Then they had some 1940's style sex. I'm not sure what that was all about, but I suspect it's probably funner now. One thing is for sure though: they made my mom. And my mom begat me, with a little 1970's style sex from my dad. And I begat this webpage.
I got snazzed up and headed downtown to Swigs lounge for Jennifer's birthday party. Swigs is a fancy bar on the west side of the Spaghetti Warehouse. There is no sign. It's actually connected to The Bitter End, but that's not intuitively obvious from the street. They have men there that open the door for you. It's that kind of place. She's 24 now. Happy birthday Jenn! Jennifer is the second (and last) girl to chew my heart up really good. It's all good now though. She taught me the value of self-respect.
The hard way.
All her roommates were there. It was good to see them all again. They're good folks. I met her most recent ex too. He was really quiet and didn't talk much. I definitely have the feeling that Jenn wore the pants in that relationship. I drank an eight-dollar Martini. Although it was NASTY, it "did the trick". I hammed it up with her roommates about Strawberry Shortcake, the economy, fake palm trees, chocolate liquer drinks, jobs, family, and cigarettes. Nothing too significant. We said our goodbyes and I headed to Club Deville to meet Kesha.
I was just full of confidence tonight. I felt like the hottest shit on sixth street. I met up with Kesha and her friends at Deville. She had friends from California visiting. I'd like to visit there sometime. Californians I have met tend to act like they're coked up all the time. Like they're in their own alternate cartoon universe. Super-high energy. I think that would get old pretty fast. I consider myself a low to medium energy person. Her friends were really cool and fun though. It was a real challenge to hype myself up to their level. I think I sortof pulled it off. I squeezed a few good/fast jokes in. I love new and challenging social situations. I think I do pretty good at em.
I pride myself on being able to fit in everywhere and with everyone. I think I'm overcompensating for being so socially maladjusted in my youth. Thats why I don't have any tattoos or piercings. It would prevent me from being accepted in classier circles.
Kesha quit her job today. She had a thousand dollars in her purse. She bought me a drink. I drank it. And it was good. Amen.
It turned out that she was sorta seeing one of the guys at the table with us. That girl is craaaaaazy. The good kind, though.
After a while we headed back to our cars. They offered to drive me back to my car at the parking garage. On the way there, Payden, a guy she's also dating was pulled over for driving with TN plates. They gave him a sobriety test, which he miraculously passed. We sat on the grass watching it all go down. We thought he was going to go to jail. They let him off with a warning and Kesha drove his car home. They revoked his license, apparently. I'm not sure about the specifics. He was pretty shook up about it.
When I got home I felt pretty mellow, so I dusted off my MP3 colelction. Brokedown Palace by the Grateful Dead is what I discovered. It's exquisite.
Goodnight, cruel world!
I met Kesha at G&M which reminded me much of the Famous Lunch greasy spoon in downtown Troy. Ahhh, can you tell I'm excited about going home? :) They have delicious hash browns. After eating we bopped up to Buffalo Exchange for a little shoppy shop action. The man at the dressing room had breasts. Kesha bought pants. And that was that.
Natasha and I walked all around downtown and took a bunch of really good pictures. She has rekindled my interest in photography. Go Natasha! We walked the tracks. A train came.
It was a super cool day. If my scanner wasn't so flaky I'd scan more pics. Ahh well.
Karyn was off with her new boy lately, and Adriana was entertaining her ex-bf, so the iron triangle was reduced to a monopod for the past bunch of days. And boy did I have fun!
I got a call from a woman that I met at the Ritz about a week ago. One of his friends sweet talked his way into this woman's pants and her house, and has been there ever since. He got verbally abusive, conned her into getting a key to her place, and claimed posession of her. He was homeless and had been living at the Salvation Army. I had met the slezeball that night, and when he introduced himself he expressed to me the mission of the night: to get laid. She wanted to know if I knew him. I told her what I knew.
I recommended that she call the police, buy pepper spray, and move. Thats exactly what she is going to do. Scary, really scary. She has a four year old child too. She told me that he said to her everything a girl wanted to hear - how beautiful she was, etc. He is a predator.
This supports my theory that bars are lousy places to meet quality people. In this case, it's even a bad place to score quality action. Watch out girls.
So that was pretty freaky.
That night I was chit chatting with different internet peeps when I discover that this cutie Natasha lives right across the road from me! It blew my mind. So we met in between us at the convenient store across the street and gabbed for a while.
Of course I stayed up far too late that night and was dead beat exhausted the next morning when I got a knock on the door. I grumbled something uncomprehensible as I trodded down the stairs. I answered the door in my bathrobe with my head still full of cobwebs. Before me stood Natasha in a 2-piece bathing suit. Boy did THAT set a nice mood for the day! She invited me to go swimming in the non-ghetto pool across the street at her complex with her and her boyfriend Daniel.
Contuniung a long tradition of men not denying cute girls in bathing suits, I accepted her invitation and fetched a pair of tacky red trunks from the closet. I followed her back to her place where we met up with Daniel. We chit chatted for a bit, then attempted to go swimming first at Zilker (it was closed), then at Twin Falls (it was dried up). We ended up getting wet in her apartment's pool. Eight feet in the deep end, aww yeah baby. Not the measley four and a half feet my apartment has. No sir.
I went home feeling SOOOOOO good. I decided then that I was going to swim every chance I got. Soo good. I took a little nap, then diddled off on the internet for a while. Natasha came on and we talked for about an hour. We were both hungry, so I invited her out to a dinner date at Romeo's. We got all snazzed up, went, ate, came back, gabbed some more, and that was that.
We chatted till the wee hours of the morning, chewing through some excellent conversations. The next day went swimming in her pool, did minimal sunbathing, went back, I played with her digital camera, and we talked on her balcony as the sun set. It was a wonerful day.
I was still dressed up, so I decided to hit the mean streets of downtown Austin. And that meant: The Ritz! I dropped my seventy-five cents in a pool table in the corner. The locals seemed pretty friendly, and just plain pretty. Pat and Andrea, respectfully. I then proceeded to play some of the best pool of my life, winning all of 7 games against an excellent opponent. That day was ALSO a wonderful day.
Today I slept in and hibernated most of the day. I felt like such a wasteoid, frittering away the day on the computer without anything to show for it. I decided to go grab some food and hit downtown. I went to the Flamingo Cantina to meet up with Kesha, the guy she is dating, and a bunch of her friends. I didn't recognize her at first, so I rung her cell phone. When I saw her go for it I moved in.
We hit it right off. We blew through a couple of very bad mixed drinks (the bar tender at Flamingo Cantina is lousy), then a couple of beers. We drank and talked and talked and drank. The band played reggae and the vibe was mellow. It was raining out and everybody got wet. The rain blew into the seating and dance floor while we shook our groove thang like nobody's biznis. The music was good, the women were beautiful, and good will filled the air like the smoke from the guitarist's hand-rolled cigarette.
...another magical night.
Epilogue: I return home to this excellent email.
I picked up Tory at St Edwards and we drove downtown to Emos. She was all fancied up in makeup. I think that was the first time I've seen her all done up.
We got the sweetest parking spot in all of Austin right on the bridge near Stubbs. River City High was on when we got there. They were fun and had good energy. They all had floppy hair. I miss my hair. This short haircut makes me feel so young. And I feel that people see me as younger too. That kindof sucks. Oh well.
We chilled in the courtyard and shot the shit until Juliana Theory came on. I was not prepared for the intensity that they rocked out. Now thats what I call a rock show. woohoo.
I dropped her back off at St Edwards and came home. After diddling off for a while I caught my pal Tamara online. We met up at IHOP and chit chatted and an hour or two.
Then I laid me down to sleep.
I took a belief-o-matic test. This is what it told me I'd be a good match with:
1. Liberal Protestant (100%)
2. Unitarian Universalism (97%)
3. Liberal Quaker (95%)
4. New Age (87%)
5. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (86%)
6. Mahayana Buddhism (81%)
7. Neo-Paganism (78%)
8. New Thought (74%)
9. Taoism (72%)
10. Theravada Buddhism (68%)
The Unitarian Universalism doesn't look too bad. If I had to pick one.
I think the site is kinda bent towards Christianity. It's got Jesus banner ads all over the place.
News flash! I'd like you all to know that I have found Jesus.
I just got my airline tickets for priceline. I'm leaving Austin July 10 and returning July 25. That should leave plenty of time for mumsy, dadsy, and all the friendsies.
I miss them all so.
I chilled at Ruta Maya this afternoon. The weather was perfect. Not too cool, windy, or too hot. Juuust right. When I got there the place was empty. I got a coffee and read the newspaper and got some thinking done. I met a day labor leader named Pedro. We sat and talked about the weather and women and politics and the economy and family. We watched women in summer dresses walk by. It was one of those magical Ruta Maya afternoons.
I came home, diddled off for a while, then headed over to Gabby n Mo's for Becky's going away party. Tim was there, and Amy and her husband showed up too. It was great to see them all again. I guess the economy is picking back up if Kazan is any indicator, which I think it is. Becky played with her band Napolean Blownapart. It was great to hear the songs live. I had listened to them so many times on MP3. I met her girlfriend Amee and a bunch of other people. I saw Sherida and Jack too. I hadn't seen them in ages. Gabbys rocks. Remind me to go there more often. I helped Becky load up her truck with musical gear and said my goodbyes.
As I was saying my goodbyes I got a call from Karyn. She had almost been in a horrible car wreck. She witnessed a head-on accident involving a sedan and a Suburban. A woman had her legs pinned to the seat by the steering column. The police questioned Karyn. She was all shook up. So I drove over there and downed a bunch of Amaretto and watched "Run Lola Run" with her and talked about her boy problems. I give it one and a half thumbs up. I crashed over there (no pun intended).
I slept with her cat Max. What a cutie. Zzzz..
Salon? Say what? Yes, not a barber, and not a pair of scissors, two bottles of beer, and my bathroom mirror. A genuine upscale, foreign accented, arguably overpriced, full-service salon! Adriana works there.
I arrived ten minutes early for my appointment. I figured I ought to look at magazines to pick out a haircut. Wrong!!! No sooner did I walk through the door than I was plopped down in a barber chair by a rambunctious British hair stylist. The queen of hearts had spoken, "off with his hair!".
For the next half hour, locks upon locks of my brown hair fell to the floor. He said he was giving me a Paul Weller (of The Jam) cut. HE CUT IT ALL OFF!!!!!!!!!!!! dfjhdkjfhskjfdhslkdjfhsldkjfhsdlf! But yeah, I like it, and I'm getting used to it.
My pal Cinde visited from San Antonio. I gave her the downtown Austin tour. (4th -> 6th -> Red River). We ran into my pal William at Ruta Maya. Karyn called and told us that she and Christie were at the Ritz, so I dragged William along to meet em. We all chit chatted for a bit and then William took off. It sucks that he's not 21 yet. Soon though. I think he'd get along pretty well with the posse.
Karyn, Christie, Cinde, David and I all chilled at the Ritz for a while. It's young Billy idol's birthday today and he was supposed to come celebrate at the Ritz. He never showed. We hit Club Deville and drank some delicious sour drinks. The conversation was brisk and fun. Cinde, Christie and David took back off for the Ritz while Karyn and I gabbed and gabbed.
Among other things, Karyn and I talked about what kind of girl I like. Her "hey, howabout her?" rate was way off. I think she has a better idea now. I hadn't thought about that in a while. Explicitly anyway... so that was fun.
We swaggered back over to the Ritz. I reaffirmed my ultimate supremacy in air hockey (since Adriana stayed home). Shot some pool. Chit chatted. Boogeyed on home. Wrote a bunch.
...and laid my body down to sleep.
Law abiding and justice loving gangstas that we are, we stopped at a red traffic light. Biggity-bam! Suddenly a blue Cadillac slammed into the back of a Mitsubishi in front of us! Our initial shock at witnessing the collision was quickly overcome by the realization that the Cadillac didn't stop, but took a hard right and headed down the road. A hit-and-run!
K-rims pulled out in hot pursuit. She didn't drive very fast, but we was HOT, and in pursuit. He pulled off the main road to avoid the heat. We kept on pursuing to the next stop, we bust a left and headed to the next block. A-lo in the back seat ringed up the local fuzz and reported our coordinates. Police on the scene, you know what I mean. The lowered, chrome-rimmed, pimped-out Cadillac's filthy American engine spirited it far ahead of us, gaining much ground at the stop signs that dotted the escape route. As the taillights disappeared into the horizon our spirits sunk a bit, but we flowed like a harpoon, daily and nightly, and maintained pursuit.
The road came to a sharp right turn. As we made the turn the perp pulled out from the left side of the road. He had apparently stopped to appraise the damage to his front bumper. This was his fatal mistake. His second one of the evening, and one that would cost him dearly. I quickly jotted down the license plate number and we withdrew from the chase.
We met up with the disoriented victims of the hit-and-run back at the intersection, gave them the plate #, and disappeared in a puff of Smoothe-ride's exhaust.
Although sixth street was unworthy of our pimpness, A-lo was worthy of several cat calls and solicitations of prostitution. Thats the kind of bitches we is. The block was dead yo, so we continued to 818 A-lo Avenue. Another day, another adventure.
Heres where it gets weird. I dreamt that there is a whole bunch of people who don't seem related to one another walking or running or riding a bike down the center of a wide road. One tall man tells us that the first to return wins. I have no idea if there is a prize or anything, but everybody took the race deathly seriously, so I did too. The race was to run as teams. Everybody had to cross the finish line as soon as possible. It really felt more like an evacuation than a race. So we all buddied up, on the run.
There was an asian schoolgirl riding a bicycle nearby. She looked slow. I picked her. So there we go, hauling ass on a bicycle away from, or towards some dangerous goal. The bicycle wasn't cutting it. We pulled over into a gates trailor park community. I approached one resident and verbally convinced him that I was supposed to test drive his car for someone named Charlie. This seemed to make sense to him and he helped me out through the narrow gate. It was a big 70-s style Plymoth. A huge, gas guzzling American car. She sits in the passenger's seat and I haul ass out of there.
The car was really lousy to handle, and in our mad rush to get somewhere, or escape something, we skidded slideways over curbs, crashed into walls, and smeared lots of shrubbery and mailboxes in our wake. The huge filthy, smoking American engine kept roaring away. We reach our destination which is a cabin set up in some deep dark woods, away from civilization. We pullied into the crushed rock driveway and hopped out. She ran into the first floor entrance of the 2-story picturesque cabin as I surveyed the arrival of our entourage from the second story balcony. They were delivering boxes full of paintings, personal articles, sports gear, etc. I think that asian bicycle girl was moving, and she had some kind of mystic signifigance.
The cabin sits on the top of a 50 foot steep hill among tall trees. Light shining out from the glass patio doors was the only light illuminating the scene. Back and forth, people raced down the lone path to the cabin in the darkness. I the wind began to blow. My senses got super-acute. The wind turned into a howling. The sound came from all around us. The beast was close. I shouted the alarm to everybody in earshot who immediatly turned and raced back to the cabin.
I eyed a lacrosse stick lying in a pile of boxes down below. I lept from the balcony and crashed down 70 feet below near the stick. No sooner had I grabbed the stick than the wolfman was upon me. I swung blindly and with full-force connected with his huge hairy head. He pounced on me, knocking me backwards into the hillside of soft, fertile dirt. I held his huge body off of me with the stick. His weight overcame me and soon pinned my throat to the ground with the stick.
He lunged his head in and tore a chunk out of my shoulder/neck with his huge incosors. My eyes clenched closed from the extreme pain. I opened them with my head tilted back, staring directly at a full-moon overhead. I entered some kind of berzerker rage and turned to the monster on top of me. I bit through the carbon reinforced metal shaft at my throat like it was butter. The shaft split in two. I thrust the sharp, gnarled stub of the shaft up through the creature's heart. His black body laid limp in the dank soil.
Suddenly, and without warning, my plans changed from an Emo's romp to a movie night at Adriana's. We watched "The Lady's Man". It was funny. Two thumbs up. Your butt.
I ran into Kevin from Kazan upstairs. His cousin was the singer. She was pretty. She had a nice voice. She sang with a jazz band. He told me a story about how he met the lead guy of Radiohead in Europe. It was a fun story.
I coordinated the evening with Adriana and Karyn, but it took them a long time to get to the show. I chatted it up with Christie until her asshole friend with a chin piercing showed up. We played cutthroat pool and he tried to cheat. He tried to take a turn after he missed a shot. I wasn't looking obviously. He thought he could get away with it, but noooo no. When they showed up Karyn had forgottten her license so we all drove back to her house to grab it and then we returned to the club. It turns out that 1/5 Griffith played first and we missed em. Oh well.
The night was overall pretty good though. I gave Missus Margaritas another chance and she did me in pretty good. Two. We talked to Stephanie and her spikey haired friend. Mary was there tonight but she didn't say anything to me.
I have been really anxious lately. I have been grinding my teeth and teething and lusting and grrrrrrrrrr! And having nightmares. I think I may have figured it out though. My job was really mentally draining. It provided an outlet for all of this brainpower. Now I don't have that same load to bear. So my brain goes to other things. And rabidly! I got to intensely into air hockey tonight. I need something to chew on. Mentally and otherwise.
Last night I gabbed with Adriana on the phone for an hour or two. She worked as I slept all day. She's got a swank new receptionist job. I'm starting to feel a little useless not having a job. Soon enough though, soon enough.
I went to pick up my pictures from the trip to Mexico but stupid HEB didn't have em back yet. I hope the processing is much better. I wanna see em! Due to traffic and stuff I was like an hour late meeting up with Adriana in the evening. We watched some tube for a bit on her roommate's awesome couch. She was real sleepy. Then we grabbed some cheap Mexican grub at a nearby restaurant. After that we took the Altima down to catch the "Real Heroes" playing on the roof of Waterloo Brewing Company. They were really good and fun. They sound a little like Barenaked Ladies crossed with a punk rock band. Yeah!
After their set we pumped some quarters into a video-crack machine and touched naked babes and hunks. That's always a hoot. Winslow played after them and they sounded horrible. I almost ordered cheese fries there but they were $7.50 for a plate!! That was far too rich for my ghetto-ass. We blew that pop stand!
We walked on down to Casino and ordered some sanely priced cheese fries. Adriana then proceeded to whup my ass at Ms Pac Man. I hung my head in shame. hehe. Here's a notable quote from the victor, "The fruit is very important to me." What a goofball! I love it. Speaking of "victor", we visited her friend Victor next door and then headed back to her place.
She's a pathological pack rat. She can't throw anything away. Worse than me. She's into all this 70's-style stuff. The problem is that she doesn't have enough space for it all. She showed me her Dreamcast/internet setup, waxed nostalgic about Garbage Pail Kids, looked through old pictures, and gabbed into the early morning hours. She gets funny when she's tired. Cute though.
It turns out that Karyn caught a kissy illness from the cute blonde boy. She's running a temperature of 102.
Deep thought for the day:
"Damned if you do, damned if you don't." -Bart Simpson
Ran into Mary shootin' pool at the Ritz. That was kinda neat, I didn't know that was her scene. She's a neat chica too. I seem to be swamped with neat chicas lately.
I sorta bounced back and forth between the Ritz and Casino. Upon bouncing back to da Ritz, Christie gnabbed me, we hugged, and introduced me to her Houston peeps. The guy across from me acted all "asshole" and rubbed his forehead when I tried to introduce myself. Kinda weird. Later I found out he thought he had rights over Christie and I was a guy. Bah. More junior high drama.
Christie and I went next door and grabbed a slice of Satan Pizza with about one and a half pepperoni's on it. Word to the Angels on Armageddon day: "his weakness is Pepperoni." I walked ten feet to the curb and turned around. Christie was gone. That girl can get lost in a hallway. haha. She reappeared and we plopped down on the curb to munch on the pizza. We discussed how we were both going through withdrawl.
Suddenly, and without warning, two little hands cover up my eyes from behind. I kinda wiggle and goof until I hear "I gots a stoop!". haha. It was Adriana! My Posse's on Sixth Street.
We went off to Lovejoys where we finally met her roommate with the birthday. It turns out she chills at Lavaca St Bar. I knew I recognized her from somewhere. I dragged a chair over to the table and Karyn spilled beer all over it before I could sit down on it. It was cartoon funny.
It was very important to a boy next to us to know the first name of Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. The streets were packed with bikers tonight. Walking back to my car I witnessed many an inebriated woman talking it up (and mounting up) with some black-leather clad biker guys. Danger works man. I need a tattoo or something.
Thats the deep thought for the day. ;)
We hoofed it all the way to the Ritz where I spazzed on air hockey. I need to find a game I'm not so good at, and one that doesn't make me sweat my caucasian butt off.
I realized that the Ritz does not exactly abound with cute chicas. It's definitely "testosterone heavy". Oh well. I guess that'll keep me outta trouble for a while.
We shared a cup of chocolate ice cream on the way back to the car. We checked out some party, but it was pretty dead - just three people playing footsie and watching movies. We chilled on "da stoop", swung by Adriana's swank new apartment and headed our seperate ways.
I realized tonight that all these songs keep popping into my head when we talk. And then I feel compelled to speak em. And I'm a goofy bastard, and it's alright, because I'm among friends.
"I had a crush - nothing works out" - Superchunk - Detroit has a skyline
David looks like Billy Idol. We teased him about it all night. He was a good sport. We drank a couple pitchers of Pyramid Heifeweisen and lemon. Everybody liked it amazingly. Even the non-beer drinker who shall remain anonymous for fear of public ridicule. We all drank and swapped food and fries and beer. It was like an alcoholic communal punk rock sharefest right there in Casino. It was beautiful.
So I totally got the blow off from that dumb girl. (who is dumb only by virtue of blowing me off). We head to the Ritz and meet their flamboyant friend Chuck. Biggity bam, we head to Chuck's house party which was promoted as "there is no beer, no pot, and drugs". And it was still a good scene. If you knew Chuck, you would understand how he pulled it off. The guy is HIGH ENERGY. He's also an artist.
He showed us a layered vinyl piece of an ex-girlfriend of his. She was crazy hot. Even on vinyl. Too "flat" fot my tastes though. ha ha ha.
We chilled for a bit on the couch and slipped out before the red haired roommate bitch kicked everybody out. A little late-night tailgate action, a pinch of stubbornness, and the evening came to a close.
The 31st I went to the Ritz and ran into some short stocky buzzcut mexicano guy. He immediately began complaining to me about some jerkwad whapping him on the neck with a pool cue. As he did this he made short chopping motions bouncing his hand off my neck. I thought I had done something to piss him off. I thought he was angry. Fuckin weird.
His cute roommate convinced us to come chill at their place afterwards. The scene was pretty mellow, mainly highlighted by short buzzcut guy being totally obnoxious. They were so chill it made me wonder why they had him as a friend. I got into a conversation with an ex-law student turned philosophy teacher about superstring theory and how we perceive four dimensions, etc. Then short buzzcut guy threw a beer can and cursed at some guy relieving his bladder in an alley across the street.
Buzzcut guy chided me all night for being a hippie, and Rico Suave with a choker, and a "swinging sausage". I think his sausage probably doesn't swing quite like he'd like. It was SO obvious that he needed to be the center of attention 24/7. He was mean and agressive. It took me back to junior high. I love Austin because I don't have to deal with ignorant, aggressive mudder fukers too often.
Overall the night was fun. The highlight had to be Karyn staying up till 6am talking to sexy blonde roommate guy. After I left I was told that obnoxious short penis boy beat up some frat boy on the street.
If the world could be made a better place by people dying, I think he would probably be on that list.
With the immediate money crisis averted I found myself with copious amounts of time on my hands. I started hanging out downtown almost every night and meeting tons of people on the Internet. It didn't take long before I made a whole bunch of really cool friends.
The other night was incredible. I met two ultra-cool chicas from an internet matchmaking service and headed downtown. I bumped into two other friends at the Velveeta room, and then another friend at Casino El Camino. The whole night was soooo fun and surreal. That was the first time that I ran into a bunch of people I knew when I went out. Austin is starting to feel like "home".
I quest to find a sweetheart is now on the back-burner. I'm just gonna chill with it, goof off a lot, and try the "not looking" thing for a while. Everyone says thats when it happens - when you least expect it. I thought they were always full of shit. ;)
The job hunt is going slowly. I'm visiting home in a few weeks. Gonna take a road trip, I think. I've never done that before. Not a big one, anyhow. I miss my parents soooo much. I haven't been home in about 6 months. That's too darn long. Albany in the summer is very nice and pretty. Visiting old haunts and old friends...I'm looking forward to it.
Work straightened itself out too. I'm not on the fast track to the poor house after all. Yay. Now I can bill for Java research. I'm sure this excites you, dear reader, just as much as it excites me.
Ooch! And the weather was beautiful today too. Today was just chock full of beauty. Awww yeah.
And the weekend is upon us. And I'm drinking beer as I type. Life is good. If I were a doggy I'd have a cold nose. I could write for a long long time. And I will.
Ok, here goes. The summer of 2000 I dated around, met a lot of people, had a lot of fun, work was good, and all my ducks were in a row. I was happy being single, happy in myself, and generally hopeful about the future. Smoothe sailing. I met a girl who rocked my world. I learned to love again.
Side note: When other people write about love it makes me want to wretch because we use the word like it means the same to everyone. It doesn't. I know that. What I mean is that I learned to TRUST.... and opened up all the tender vulnerable parts. We had emotional intimacy. OK, you get the idea.So I settled down with her and things were good for a long time. Then things got bad. Then things got good again. And up and down it went, for a period of 5 months. About a month before we broke up she began "disengaging". I only know this in retrospect. I wasn't prepared when she dropped the axe. I was a REAL MESS. I felt like something the cat drug in. I felt all chewed up.
I talked to a school counselor about it. It really helped. I'm doing much better than I was. But I sure miss it. I miss what we had. I miss how we cared for each other. It feels really good to know that someone cares about you that much. I've got friends now. And they care about me. But it's just not the same.
Is it a character flaw to need other people? I don't think so. I prided myself on my independence before. I'm not so passionate about that anymore. I was taught the value of continuity, and structure.. order.. where I thrived on chaos before.
We argued very well. Constructively, you know. She was intelligent. But she attacked me. and that's not cool. Verbally or psychologically: it's bad shit. I know she didn't mean to. But that's how the boys before me taught her. "attack or be attacked" - Stupid boys. But I could never stay mad at her for very long. I still can't.
I care about her.. and I hope she still cares about me. We're in the aftermath now. The nukes were launched, and all casualties accounted for. The psychological fallout is raining down like a New York snowstorm. I can't expect anything from her now. I think it would be easier to hate her or resent her or be bitter about the thing. Hypothetically. But I don't have it in me... I have no ill feelings towards her. I genuinely wish her well. The pain I feel is from the emptiness left in her wake.
I grew up more in the past 5 months, then I have in the previous 22 years.
I realized that I don't handle loss very well. And that I should have lots of people around me that really care about me that aren't going to go away. And that's not weakness either. Oh no. It's self understanding.
I think that there are two kinds of pain. Meaningless pain and growing pain. We suffer meaningless pain for no good reason. Growing pain, we suffer to come out from the other side tempered and stronger than before. That's what this is. growing pain. I am so convinced.
There were times in my life when I was in a similar position. The forests of the world periodically burn down (naturally), only for new life to rise from the ashes. My shit just burned down.
And I'm waiting for the page to turn...
That band was Litter Meet.
There was a lot of free time before the show, so I chit chatted and boozed it up with them and a couple other friends of theirs. It was a punk rocky show, and I was all slicked out like sideburns on an auto-mechanic.
There was this Coors light promotional thing where a prostitute in a black dress distributed "coozies" to the patrons. I had really mixed feelings snuggling my $4 imported lager in a Coors coozie. The practical reality of cold beer, however, outweighed the risk of public humiliation. Yeah.
It was a good time. I met a funny lesbian girl with a New Yawk accent too. She was friggin hilarious. It was like buttah!
I've really gotta visit home soon. My parents are starting to miss me.
I'm moving out of the Bee Cave apartments, and over to the East side of Zilker Park. It's a loft apartment. I figure I should fully embrace bachelorhood, and do all that goofy stuff, like living in a loft apartment while I still have the chance. The old place was just too expensive too. Working part time, I couldn't swing it alone anymore, and there was no prospect for finding a roomate. It was my first apartment.
I need to figure out what I'm going to do next semester. I may work full time to save some money back up. I don't like being this low... I like having options.
I'm painting again. Joy of joys! Things just keep getting better.
School has begun. The first few weeks are pretty hairy. All my teachers are still cool. I'm researching the Mercury programming language for my Programming Languages class. School is really really good. It is fun to see the same people in many of the classes. And around campus too. The same faces.
I think it's about time for koax.org here to have a facelift. It's a bit long in the tooth. Any recommendations for a particular style are very appreciated.
Money is gonna suck this month. I'm part-time at work, and I'm still paying WAY too much for this apartment.
Sigh. I'll keep ya posted.
I was told today that Jonathan Bayly killed himself Tuesday. I knew him. He was a good kid. We went to LaSalle together, we rode the same bus. We went fishing together.
It is a mystery to me why he did it. His family is so close to the American Ideal. I think he did fairly well in school. He wasn't a dumb kid. He was good with the laaadies.
I wish to hell I could make it to the funeral. This is so sad. WHY? WHY? WHY?
Why does anyone do it? I don't think he was depressed. He seemed like a pretty happy kid. If he was, I'm sure he could get the meds he needed. He had a lot of friends... Damn.
The Bayly family is a very afluent family in Melrose, NY. There will be zillions of people at the funeral. I wish I could make it.
Sigh. So sad.
Second day of class today. My Adolescent Psychology teacher is a blast, my Logic teacher is wicked funny, and my Networking teacher is a winner too. It doesn't look like I'll have to be add/dropping this semester. Yay.
I went part time at work. It's sooo weird not getting up at 9 every morning. It feels creepy. I've been doing it for a year and now I'm not. The extra free time is nice though. I won't have too much once school really starts crankin. I think I'll probably make friends at school too. Nice buncha people.
Three day weekend! Woohoo! I'm gonna get ahead on a lot of the work. I'm really excited about school this semester. I'm paying for it too. I'm gonna make the most of it. And I need to get scholarships in a few semesters, so I'm gonna shoot as high as possible.
I bought Everquest the other day. Let me tell you: this game rocks. I played TeleArena back in the day. This is a worthy successor. It takes some getting used to, but after that it's highly addictive. Mmmm.. It's been a long time since I've played a computer game.
Crazy ass transition period I feel like I'm going through right now. It was shown to me that I am horribly self-centered. Yup. My girl told me that. And she's right. And I'm not too happy about it. Who has ever heard of a self-centered Psychologist? Bah! Anyway, it turns out that in relationships I consider myself first. I take care of my needs first. I don't require girls to make me feel complete. Or not miserable. This is obviously a bad way to think. When the other person doesn't think like that, that is. Sigh. Sigh.
School is good. I feel really good about school. I'm gonna get my learn on. Aww yeah. School has the added benefit of dragging me out of the proverbial social cave that I've been in for the past year. Yeah, that's a good thing.
I have been painting. I have made some good paintings. I am pleased. Now I just need a little box to put them in. And then my life will be complete. Yup.
Friday night work had a christmass party at Guadalupe River Ranch. It's way out in the middle of nowhere. It took me 4 hours to get there. I discovered a little town named Medina. It was neither funky nor cold.
I arrived, shmoozed with my work buddies and their families, ate dinner, got paid, etc. Oh yeah. And I drank too much. Two beers, a glass of white wine, a shot of some "pinch" drink, and about a bottle of champagne. I felt soooo good. Then I went to bed. I'm happy to say that I've stopped puking. I'm not going anywhere near booze for a while. No sir.
I got home and read half of "Palm Sunday" by Vonnegut. It makes me want to be a writer. Reading Vonnegut always does. That seems to be a recurring theme. Something excites me, and I want to do it. Get your mind out of the gutter. Currently, I plan on being a rock star, writer, software developer, and psychologist. I guess I'll be in school for a while, eh?
My pal Tim from Albany is visiting me from Jan 8-13. I'm psyched. It's my mission to show him how wonderful Austin is, so that he'll fall in love as deeply with it as I have. Albany really is a hellhole by comparison. Also, I'm visiting Colorado for Christmass from Dec 23->29. Woowoo! I haven't been snowboarding in sooo long. I better get my silly white ass in shape.
I bought this Kensington webcam. I'm going to return it for a 3com one. Kensington gets real funky in low light. Hopefully the 3com will be better. It's supposed to be the best. Anyway.. this site will soon have a webcam. Exciting eh? I must remember to wear pants.
I'm going to write a movie too. I saw American Beauty the other night. Excellent, excellent movie. Hi, I'm Evan and I'm a ________, but what I really want to do is direct. Riiiiight. My brain feels so cooked. I'm not sad, I'm not happy. Eating a bunch of sugar had no effect on my mood. It's just... baseline... it's sortof nice not being so edgy or sad. So strange.. I had never drank so much before. So strange.
bleh.I feel like this.
Work is getting back in order. I'm ramping back up on this ASP project. I get to feel useful again. I'm gonna try to work 30 hours a week. I have night classes mostly, so I might be able to pull it off for a while anyway. Here's my schedule,
My love life is going really well. I've settled down with a cute Austin girlie. Oh yeah, and I learned to love a Chihuahua. God help me. :) I have none of my own yet. I decided against getting an Australian Shepherd until I'm at a place with a big yard and have enough time to do it right. Sigh.
I haven't been down to 6th street in forever and a day. I ordered a bunch of these things for a Christmas present. They're sweet. Yeah, I know I'm a geek.
Life always always always gets better. And it has. I started writing an "internet dating guide". If you have any funny stories, drop me a mail.
All I want for Christmas is time enough for everything...
I have recently been accepted to St Edwards University in Austin for Computer Science. Woowoo! I'm gonna be a smart boi now. Here's the plan: go to school full-time. Take lots of computer and psych courses (with a concentration in psych). Go to Austin Community College this summer for silly language credits. Chalk up 24 credits at St Eds with a GPA in excess of 3.5 for major academic scholarships in the fall (next fall, not this one). So over 3 full semesters at St Eds I need to really nail 24 credits, 8 classes. No problem. Stay tuned. ;)
In related news, I am in search of a roomate. I have overextended an invitation to my buddy Tim from Albany to come down here. He's a fool not to take it. Anyway. I need a roomate NOW. No more dicking around. Once school starts I just won't be able to pay rent. I can borrow for a little while, but not for 3 years or longer. Funk dat! And just in time for Christmass too. Bleh!
Debt frightens me. I dread knowing that I owe some bank tens of thousands of dollars. I don't own a credit card. Tell me if THIS isin't shitty. My dad put me one of his credit cards when I was 14 to build up my credit rating. The credit card company put me on as a co-owner of the account, instead of someone who may use it. Sounds like a good idea, right? What went wrong? Did the silly 14yo go nuts with it, spending up a fortune? No. Daddy dearest was late with payments. Now, a 14yo cannot legally commit to a contract, so in theory I'm not laible for this fuckup. I had no right being on the card at all. So my credit is shot, from doing nothing, effectively. And you can't erase junk on a credit history thing. Once it's in there it's in there. I'm gonna file some contest to it though. Bleh. I hate paperwork. College is a big gunk or paperwork. I swear. They don't WANT people getting an education. ;)
So anyway... after I get my Bachelors of Science, I may work for a while, or I may get a Masters in Psychology. I would love to have my own practice. I need to figure out everything I need for that. Hopefully not too too much school.
I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do for a job situation. I'd love to not have to work at all.. but I don't think I'll be able to do that and pay rent at the same time. What a bitch. I could use a good part-time / high-paying job too. :wink: :wink:
I ran into this sexy chica on the street the other day.
Today I hyped myself up on caffeine, and headed downtown for another dissappointing social tryst. And feelin goooood. For the first time since I've been in Austin, I ran into several people that I knew! This thrilled the living piss out of me, let me tell you.
I whooped some major booty at pool, I met some beautiful girls, and I shook my little fanny on the dance floor just as hard as it would shake. Awww yeah. :)
So, ya know.. this Austin thing isin't so bad after all. ;)
In unrelated, and horribly depressing news, my cat (in NY) was hit by a car, driving her teeth through her tongue, and sustaining lascerations to her head. If you're thinking about whether I spelled "lascerations" wrong, then you're a horribly insensitive, anally retentive excuse for a human being. This is my CAT, asshole. :P
Anyway, she's alive and recovering (hopefully). Your prayers are appreciated (ya know, if you're into that kindof thing). Or send her good vibes. whatever. she's the coolest cat in the fucking world. Her name is trixie.
I'm considering quitting drinking. I can't dance when I drink too much. That, and it's kindof draining. I'll let ya know how _that_ goes. ;)
P.S. I don't really have tourettes syndrome.
I've been kindof stressing...
Again, I have trouble settling on what I CAN have instead of what I want. bleh.
I have been so burned out from work lately that I don't have the energy to teach myself leet coding skills once I'm home. That kills me. It's a hobby that I really enjoy. Hopefully I'll have more free time in the future.
You know how firest fires burn the forest down, returning the nutrients trapped in the trees back to the soil? That's what it feels like is going on inside of me... there is this great urge to till the soil... destroy my life, and in it's place, rebuild a better Evan.
Oh! And I cut my hair off too. Pretty short. I guess that's all part of the same thing.. the same process.
This section of the site, I guess, is going to be pretty raw and unedited. Caution, brain dump area. The static writing started out like that.. I had this idea kicking around, but it turned out looking more like a poem. Oh well.
This is such therapy. Y'all (the one southern dialect I've picked up) should do it too. It's great. Fuck sleep, I think I'll write some more....