It's been a while since I've last posted an entry, so this will be a loooooong one. Just for shits + giggles, I'm writing it in a Q&A format (because that is how I choose to roll this evening).
"SO.... WHAT'S NEW, PUSSYCAT?"
For starters, I have a giant hole in the ceiling of my bathroom. About a week ago, I started getting a couple of leaks in there. I didn't pay much heed to these slow and steady drips, until I wandered into my bathroom one fateful morning and noticed that my ceiling had apparently grown a few pairs of swollen popcorn-white breasts (there were at least 4 of these domed, droopy outcroppings of ceiling hanging over my head in the morning as I brushed my teeth). At that point, I went to the complex office and gave them the 411 on my ceiling's mutations. In response, they sent a crew to fix the problem... by cutting a giant hole in the ceiling. The drywall people should be in tomorrow to make my ceiling an actual ceiling again, as opposed to what it is (it looks like a gateway to some low-rent Narnia-esque alternate universe; all I'm saying is that if I walk in the bathroom later and there's a gold-leaf embossed notecard next to my Colgate saying "SCRUB ME", I'm going to let my teeth rot rather than put up with these Wonderland shenanigans). Aside from the terror that some random bug might fall on top of my head while I take a shit (and the horrendous cold draft that wafts in at night while I try to sleep, cocooned in my cheapo Target comforter), the hole isn't too much of an inconvenience.
On a positive note: I went to my podiatrist last week and got my feet fixed. When it comes to genetics, I got it pretty good. All the men in my family keep their hair as they age, cancer and heart disease doesn't haunt the blood-line, and we're pretty sharp mentally. The downside: I've got Dumbo ears, the prerequiste large Jew nose (the upside of being of Sephardic Jew descent: eating excellent food during family gatherings), if I don't shave my face within 2 days I turn into a member of ZZ Top, and my big toe-nails have a vicious tendency towards getting a little too big for their britches. For the last couple of months, these motherfuckers have been ingrown and driving me up-the-wall-batshit-crazy. I kept putting it off and putting it off until I realized that if I don't get these suckers fixed soon, they'll get infected and I'll be up the ol'creek for sure. So off I went to my overly cheerful podiatrist's office (good chap, my doctor, even if he thinks everything he says is comedic genius on par with Richard Pryor's "Live On The Sunset Strip") and got it taken care of. The worst part of the process? The painkillers. The shots in my toe were BRUTAL. While I'm not exactly a glutton for punishment, I can usually take enough pain that I don't outright shout "GODDAMN" when I get pricked with something. Not this time; I hooted and hollered quite a bit getting my big toes numbed. I hollered like a Baptist preacher performing his fire-and-brimstone greatest hits. I sounded like James Brown. As the doc was plunging that needle in my big toes, I kept flashing back to a Family Guy bit:
When he was finished putting the scissors to my feet, I got to take a peek at what he pulled out of me: SHARDS of nail. Not a little sliver, but jagged chunks that grew in a lot deeper than I realized. I'm damn lucky it didn't infect my bones. The rest of the day was odd, walking along with two numbed feet wrapped in thick blue medical bandages (I must of looked like a gigantic penguin, teetering and tottering through the aisles at work), but I felt positively divine the next day.
"HOW ABOUT THANKSGIVING? DO ANYTHING COOL? INTERESTING? GET REALLY SHIT-HAMMERED?"
Turkey Day was spent at my older brother Greg's house. Turkey Day is interesting because that is the only day of the year that we're able to cram Greg and my side of the family, which are predominately very loud and boisterous French Jews, in the same room with Greg's wife Katherine's side of the family, who are all very mellow and very Lutheran. Seeing 30-some people crammed in Katherine + Greg's living room, passing around turkey and trying to talk to people they have nothing in common with is a hoot and a 1/2. Greg, being the good host that he is, had plenty of wine on hand to help make the day go by smoothly. And because I helped do the dishes afterwards, I got to take home a couple of tasty bottles of syrah back to the ol'Fortress Of Solitude.
"WHAT ABOUT WORK?"
Aside from getting flipped off by a shoplifter, work has been pretty "meh" lately. We've been busy due to the holiday season, and we just hired a new person, so the workload isn't too bad.
"READ ANYTHING COOL?"
Way too much. I've started to slow down a bit (I tend to binge read: devour everything in sight for a couple of months, and then chill out for a couple more). Since I last posted, I've read the following:
-Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre
-The Stranger by Albert Camus
-Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut
-Fables: 1001 Nights Of Snowfall by Bill Willingham
-The Revolution Of Everyday Life by Raoul Vaneigem
-the third volume of Gotham Central
-The last collection of Andy Diggle's "The Losers".
-Anarchy After Leftism by Bob Black
-A New World In Our Hearts by Love & Rage
-Running On Emptiness by John Zerzan
-Ulysses by James Joyce (I've been reading this off and on in bite-size morsels over the last few months; I've tried sitting down and reading it in a single afternoon, but its too much for me; I can feel my brain being twisted into a pulpy pretzel after a few pages of Joyce's maddening yet brillianr prose).
I would like to write a bit more about those books, but I don't want to turn this entry into something of epic and ridiculious proportions. Out of all of them, the Zerzan book was the one that burrowed the deepest into my consciousness. Even though I disagree with 90% of Zerzan's anarcho-primitivist ramblings, I must admit the man has some good points and he can explain concepts like dialectics and reification clearly and concisely in 2 sentences whereas most other writers I've encountered need a couple of pages to make any sense of those words. I might devote a future post to Zerzan's book; as for the others, all I can say is that they were time and money well spent, and I hope to be able to finish Ulysses by February (since I take week long breaks between said bite-size reading sessions). Right now I'm reading up on one of my favorite types of nonfiction: the wonderfully frustrating and illuminating world of music criticism. The book is Joe Carducci's "Rock And The Pop Narcotic". Haven't finished it yet, but its definitely something I'll talk about in a future entry.
"SEEN ANY GOOD MOVIES?"
Yes. Two in particular:
-Hands Over The City
-Punishment Park
Amazing films. However, like the Zerzan book, I'll refrain from writing reviews on those two films today, because I do need to go to sleep soon and I REALLLLLLY don't want to write too much at the moment.
"SO WHY HAVEN'T YOU BEEN POSTING TO YE OLDE BLOG LATELY?"
A combination of: roomie still hooked on World Of Warcraft, reading more when I should be writing, and my mind has been in a bit a funk lately. I'm starting to feel like someone who has awakened from a deep slumber. Looking back on the year, it looks to me like a vacation. I've enriched my mind and broadened my horizons in certain regards, but aside from moving to a new place on my own and making a steady living, I have done nothing of genuine worth this year. I have forsaken material and physical concerns for intellectual pursuits: while my brain is beefier and buffer than its ever been, I'm physically out of shape, lonely, and stuck in a working rut. As much as I love working at the bookstore, I have no desire to make a career out of it (which so many of my co-workers have). Right now, I feel like I'm on the cusp of something. Its shit-or-get-off-the-pot-time, so to speak.
"SO WHAT'S YOUR PLAN?"
For starters, go see my school counselor and see if all of those credits I racked up on the community level and at ASU could add up to something. If I could get certified in something by doing another year of school... well, fuck it, anything is better than being stuck in retail. Phase 2: finish writing something concrete. I'm trying to finish a book by the end of the month as a Christmas present for my dad. I can probably hack it, as I've got a decent amount done, but I need to sit down and edit, edit, edit that sucker in the first couple of months of 2007. If it turns out to be shit, write something else, maybe try and get some freelance work for some rag in the Valley. Phase 3: get a car (tricky, since money is tight, but you can't do shit socially and professionally in the Valley without some wheels). Phase 4: whip my ass into shape.
I've already embarked on Phase 4. I started watching myself three days ago, cutting myself off from sodas and sweet drinks, no more fast food or freezer-easy-meals. I've been living off of rice (god bless the rice cooker Grant got from Target), fruit, baby carrots, chicken, and water. I'm going to try waking up earlier in the day so I have time to hit the complex gym before going to work. I used to work out for almost 2 hours every day a year ago, hitting weights and swimming laps, and I haven't done anthing physical in the last year (and it shows). Plus, I found a dojo near by that teaches Krav Maga (which I've always wanted to learn), so I'm going over this week to see how much it'll cost and when I can attend classes. I'm also thinking of getting into Yoga, cause I've been stiff lately (and not in the good way). My goal: go from my current waist size 46 back down to what I used to be: size 32. If that isn't possible (and it may not be if I start gaining a lot of muscle mass), I want to go from being flabby to what I've always wanted to be: lean and mean. I want to be able to poke my stomach and not feel it giving way. I don't want to have tits, or love handles, or feel like a bowl of jello strapped to my chest anymore. I want to be drop-dead sexy (or drop-dead trying).
"SOUNDS LIKE YOU'VE GOT A LOT OF RESOLUTIONS TO LIVE UP TO IN THE NEW YEAR".
Yeah. I'm going to need a bit of luck and a whole lot of tenacity to pull this off.
"WHY AM I YELLING AT YOU, ANYWAY? DO YOU OWE ME MONEY OR SOMETHING? WHY DON'T YOU BOLD THIS SHIT?"
Because for some strange reason the inserts aren't working on my browser right now. *Sigh*
Anyway, I need some rest, and my fingertips are aching. Exit: stage right!
p.s. I was able to edit in the YouTube clip, so I think the inserts are working now, but I'm just too lazy to de-shout and bold all the question text, so there.
P.S.S. Man, the new profile layout is DOGSHIT. Character limits on the top 10 lists? No more sidebar profile? Total dogshit. Not feeling this at all.
"SO.... WHAT'S NEW, PUSSYCAT?"
For starters, I have a giant hole in the ceiling of my bathroom. About a week ago, I started getting a couple of leaks in there. I didn't pay much heed to these slow and steady drips, until I wandered into my bathroom one fateful morning and noticed that my ceiling had apparently grown a few pairs of swollen popcorn-white breasts (there were at least 4 of these domed, droopy outcroppings of ceiling hanging over my head in the morning as I brushed my teeth). At that point, I went to the complex office and gave them the 411 on my ceiling's mutations. In response, they sent a crew to fix the problem... by cutting a giant hole in the ceiling. The drywall people should be in tomorrow to make my ceiling an actual ceiling again, as opposed to what it is (it looks like a gateway to some low-rent Narnia-esque alternate universe; all I'm saying is that if I walk in the bathroom later and there's a gold-leaf embossed notecard next to my Colgate saying "SCRUB ME", I'm going to let my teeth rot rather than put up with these Wonderland shenanigans). Aside from the terror that some random bug might fall on top of my head while I take a shit (and the horrendous cold draft that wafts in at night while I try to sleep, cocooned in my cheapo Target comforter), the hole isn't too much of an inconvenience.
On a positive note: I went to my podiatrist last week and got my feet fixed. When it comes to genetics, I got it pretty good. All the men in my family keep their hair as they age, cancer and heart disease doesn't haunt the blood-line, and we're pretty sharp mentally. The downside: I've got Dumbo ears, the prerequiste large Jew nose (the upside of being of Sephardic Jew descent: eating excellent food during family gatherings), if I don't shave my face within 2 days I turn into a member of ZZ Top, and my big toe-nails have a vicious tendency towards getting a little too big for their britches. For the last couple of months, these motherfuckers have been ingrown and driving me up-the-wall-batshit-crazy. I kept putting it off and putting it off until I realized that if I don't get these suckers fixed soon, they'll get infected and I'll be up the ol'creek for sure. So off I went to my overly cheerful podiatrist's office (good chap, my doctor, even if he thinks everything he says is comedic genius on par with Richard Pryor's "Live On The Sunset Strip") and got it taken care of. The worst part of the process? The painkillers. The shots in my toe were BRUTAL. While I'm not exactly a glutton for punishment, I can usually take enough pain that I don't outright shout "GODDAMN" when I get pricked with something. Not this time; I hooted and hollered quite a bit getting my big toes numbed. I hollered like a Baptist preacher performing his fire-and-brimstone greatest hits. I sounded like James Brown. As the doc was plunging that needle in my big toes, I kept flashing back to a Family Guy bit:
When he was finished putting the scissors to my feet, I got to take a peek at what he pulled out of me: SHARDS of nail. Not a little sliver, but jagged chunks that grew in a lot deeper than I realized. I'm damn lucky it didn't infect my bones. The rest of the day was odd, walking along with two numbed feet wrapped in thick blue medical bandages (I must of looked like a gigantic penguin, teetering and tottering through the aisles at work), but I felt positively divine the next day.
"HOW ABOUT THANKSGIVING? DO ANYTHING COOL? INTERESTING? GET REALLY SHIT-HAMMERED?"
Turkey Day was spent at my older brother Greg's house. Turkey Day is interesting because that is the only day of the year that we're able to cram Greg and my side of the family, which are predominately very loud and boisterous French Jews, in the same room with Greg's wife Katherine's side of the family, who are all very mellow and very Lutheran. Seeing 30-some people crammed in Katherine + Greg's living room, passing around turkey and trying to talk to people they have nothing in common with is a hoot and a 1/2. Greg, being the good host that he is, had plenty of wine on hand to help make the day go by smoothly. And because I helped do the dishes afterwards, I got to take home a couple of tasty bottles of syrah back to the ol'Fortress Of Solitude.
"WHAT ABOUT WORK?"
Aside from getting flipped off by a shoplifter, work has been pretty "meh" lately. We've been busy due to the holiday season, and we just hired a new person, so the workload isn't too bad.
"READ ANYTHING COOL?"
Way too much. I've started to slow down a bit (I tend to binge read: devour everything in sight for a couple of months, and then chill out for a couple more). Since I last posted, I've read the following:
-Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre
-The Stranger by Albert Camus
-Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut
-Fables: 1001 Nights Of Snowfall by Bill Willingham
-The Revolution Of Everyday Life by Raoul Vaneigem
-the third volume of Gotham Central
-The last collection of Andy Diggle's "The Losers".
-Anarchy After Leftism by Bob Black
-A New World In Our Hearts by Love & Rage
-Running On Emptiness by John Zerzan
-Ulysses by James Joyce (I've been reading this off and on in bite-size morsels over the last few months; I've tried sitting down and reading it in a single afternoon, but its too much for me; I can feel my brain being twisted into a pulpy pretzel after a few pages of Joyce's maddening yet brillianr prose).
I would like to write a bit more about those books, but I don't want to turn this entry into something of epic and ridiculious proportions. Out of all of them, the Zerzan book was the one that burrowed the deepest into my consciousness. Even though I disagree with 90% of Zerzan's anarcho-primitivist ramblings, I must admit the man has some good points and he can explain concepts like dialectics and reification clearly and concisely in 2 sentences whereas most other writers I've encountered need a couple of pages to make any sense of those words. I might devote a future post to Zerzan's book; as for the others, all I can say is that they were time and money well spent, and I hope to be able to finish Ulysses by February (since I take week long breaks between said bite-size reading sessions). Right now I'm reading up on one of my favorite types of nonfiction: the wonderfully frustrating and illuminating world of music criticism. The book is Joe Carducci's "Rock And The Pop Narcotic". Haven't finished it yet, but its definitely something I'll talk about in a future entry.
"SEEN ANY GOOD MOVIES?"
Yes. Two in particular:
-Hands Over The City
-Punishment Park
Amazing films. However, like the Zerzan book, I'll refrain from writing reviews on those two films today, because I do need to go to sleep soon and I REALLLLLLY don't want to write too much at the moment.
"SO WHY HAVEN'T YOU BEEN POSTING TO YE OLDE BLOG LATELY?"
A combination of: roomie still hooked on World Of Warcraft, reading more when I should be writing, and my mind has been in a bit a funk lately. I'm starting to feel like someone who has awakened from a deep slumber. Looking back on the year, it looks to me like a vacation. I've enriched my mind and broadened my horizons in certain regards, but aside from moving to a new place on my own and making a steady living, I have done nothing of genuine worth this year. I have forsaken material and physical concerns for intellectual pursuits: while my brain is beefier and buffer than its ever been, I'm physically out of shape, lonely, and stuck in a working rut. As much as I love working at the bookstore, I have no desire to make a career out of it (which so many of my co-workers have). Right now, I feel like I'm on the cusp of something. Its shit-or-get-off-the-pot-time, so to speak.
"SO WHAT'S YOUR PLAN?"
For starters, go see my school counselor and see if all of those credits I racked up on the community level and at ASU could add up to something. If I could get certified in something by doing another year of school... well, fuck it, anything is better than being stuck in retail. Phase 2: finish writing something concrete. I'm trying to finish a book by the end of the month as a Christmas present for my dad. I can probably hack it, as I've got a decent amount done, but I need to sit down and edit, edit, edit that sucker in the first couple of months of 2007. If it turns out to be shit, write something else, maybe try and get some freelance work for some rag in the Valley. Phase 3: get a car (tricky, since money is tight, but you can't do shit socially and professionally in the Valley without some wheels). Phase 4: whip my ass into shape.
I've already embarked on Phase 4. I started watching myself three days ago, cutting myself off from sodas and sweet drinks, no more fast food or freezer-easy-meals. I've been living off of rice (god bless the rice cooker Grant got from Target), fruit, baby carrots, chicken, and water. I'm going to try waking up earlier in the day so I have time to hit the complex gym before going to work. I used to work out for almost 2 hours every day a year ago, hitting weights and swimming laps, and I haven't done anthing physical in the last year (and it shows). Plus, I found a dojo near by that teaches Krav Maga (which I've always wanted to learn), so I'm going over this week to see how much it'll cost and when I can attend classes. I'm also thinking of getting into Yoga, cause I've been stiff lately (and not in the good way). My goal: go from my current waist size 46 back down to what I used to be: size 32. If that isn't possible (and it may not be if I start gaining a lot of muscle mass), I want to go from being flabby to what I've always wanted to be: lean and mean. I want to be able to poke my stomach and not feel it giving way. I don't want to have tits, or love handles, or feel like a bowl of jello strapped to my chest anymore. I want to be drop-dead sexy (or drop-dead trying).
"SOUNDS LIKE YOU'VE GOT A LOT OF RESOLUTIONS TO LIVE UP TO IN THE NEW YEAR".
Yeah. I'm going to need a bit of luck and a whole lot of tenacity to pull this off.
"WHY AM I YELLING AT YOU, ANYWAY? DO YOU OWE ME MONEY OR SOMETHING? WHY DON'T YOU BOLD THIS SHIT?"
Because for some strange reason the inserts aren't working on my browser right now. *Sigh*
Anyway, I need some rest, and my fingertips are aching. Exit: stage right!
p.s. I was able to edit in the YouTube clip, so I think the inserts are working now, but I'm just too lazy to de-shout and bold all the question text, so there.
P.S.S. Man, the new profile layout is DOGSHIT. Character limits on the top 10 lists? No more sidebar profile? Total dogshit. Not feeling this at all.
2.) Injection in the toe is the most painful experience I've ever had. I feel for you.
3.) There's a topic somewhere out there giving great love to jewish, roman, greek, etc noses. I tried to find it, but failed. Just thought you should know.
4.) Ever consider moving someplace where you don't need a car to get around? I ask because for the past six months I've been living outside a big city for the first time since high school, and it's making me crazy. The anxiety of owning a car when you really can't afford it is a psychic tax on the suburban soul. Move to NY or Chicago, take a train to work... or to school.
5.) On that subject: good luck getting back into it! What did/do you intend to study? I miss college.