One day I'm going to have to write a journal entry while not hung-over, just to see what it's like. Went to this sort of arty performance/benefit/DJ & Dancing type party last night at a huge industrial/art studio space last night. The performances were mostly stupid (I liked the one I was in though), but the DJ (Margaret Noble) was good (and a fox, BTW). Fun was had, booze was consumed, big blobby art was looked at, performances were stumbled through and crazy dancin' was attempted. My one piece of insight from this event is that the world needs more guys in gorilla suits. Gorilla suits are just inherently entertaining.
OK, back to it. I need to return to the battle against inertia that is my life.
OK, back to it. I need to return to the battle against inertia that is my life.
Here's a detail shot of my new tattoo because, well cause I just like it damn it and want to show it off a bit.
I'm having a hungover Sunday, which I actualy kind of enjoy if I don't have anything to do. I was out at an after-hours bar last night--in Chicago most bars close at 2am (3 on Saturdays), but a couple have "late" licenses and stay open until 4/5. Usualy the late bars are fairly sleazy (not necessarily a bad thing) and raise their prices after 2am (decidedly a bad thing). Ran into my sister and her Irish bricklayer fiancee, which was swell. However, I try to remember that after closing a normal bar, visits to late night bars generally operate under a law of diminishing returns--by 2 or 3am you've generally had 90% of the fun you're going to get that evening and extending the night results in extreme drunkenness with a minimal return on enjoyment. Of course, every once in a while you have the exceptional night of riotous fun that simply cannot stop until dawn. It's the memory of those joyous exceptions that propel me to mope around the late-night bars, scraping up the bitter dregs of the evening's entertainment.
I'm having a hungover Sunday, which I actualy kind of enjoy if I don't have anything to do. I was out at an after-hours bar last night--in Chicago most bars close at 2am (3 on Saturdays), but a couple have "late" licenses and stay open until 4/5. Usualy the late bars are fairly sleazy (not necessarily a bad thing) and raise their prices after 2am (decidedly a bad thing). Ran into my sister and her Irish bricklayer fiancee, which was swell. However, I try to remember that after closing a normal bar, visits to late night bars generally operate under a law of diminishing returns--by 2 or 3am you've generally had 90% of the fun you're going to get that evening and extending the night results in extreme drunkenness with a minimal return on enjoyment. Of course, every once in a while you have the exceptional night of riotous fun that simply cannot stop until dawn. It's the memory of those joyous exceptions that propel me to mope around the late-night bars, scraping up the bitter dregs of the evening's entertainment.
I just got my first tattoo the other day--as you can see by my profile pic. I'm pretty excited--it's a Cadillac logo from the 70s. Basically a set of oak leaves surrounding the crest, which is drawn in outline (that is the color in the boxes isn't filled in). Why did I get this? Basically I have a fetish for old Caddys--my '72 Coupe deVille being my favorite of the one's I've had. I had that car back in Portland, where it was possible to park it. Unfortunately i live in Chicago at the moment and the kind of car I like is incredibly unwieldy to drive here. Plus the winter just eats old cars here.
As for the experience of getting it--well I kind of liked it. Endorphins are fun!
As for the experience of getting it--well I kind of liked it. Endorphins are fun!
