Squalus - don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out! Thanks for nothing. I'm contacting the Blogger manager to see to it your account is terminated for the harassing comments about knowing where I live.
Fuck off,
Alex
Everyone else - thanks for realizing whoever this asshole was, their intentions were as fucked as their rhetoric.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
"I am waiting, I am waiting/Oh yeah, oh yeah/Waiting for someone to come out of somewhere..."
The Rolling Stones - "I Am Waiting" (from their 1966 album Aftermath) as performed on the Rediffusion London Network program Ready, Steady, Go!, which thanks to my dad taping reruns of it off the Disney Channel - yeah, by the way, what the Hell happened to Disney? They used to do cool shit like this! - no doubt impacted my affinity for British rock from the 1960's. It's how I first saw The Kinks.
(Mick Jagger you may all know as the lippy lead singer, and it's still a shock to see young, wrinkle-free Keith Richards, but the frog-faced drummer is Charlie Watts, the stalwart-looking fellow with an interesting teardrop-shaped bass is Bill Wyman, and the baggy-eyed blonde on the dulcimer is Brian Jones, a man whose genius I can say truly only exists in the minds of those who deify dead rock stars. If he hadn't played the dulcimer on this track, they could have - and would have - gotten a session man to do it. The Beatles did it on "For No One" with Alan Civil on French Horn, never mind the constant presence of George Martin on keyboards.)
The beach is so close I can hear the waves, smell the sea breeze, see the oil rigs off in the Gulf horizon, taste the booze, and feel the sensation of pissing myself in the water.
This is one of those weeks that can't go by fast enough, and yet there's a lot going on:
+ Shelley is getting her semiannual "about-to-go-home" cold.
+ I won't see her for a week and a half (I know, it's nothing, but it still sucks. She has NOTHING to do down in Dallas, while I'll be living it up at the beach.)
+ I had an interview this morning for one of my articles for Culture Week.
+ Another one tomorrow morning. (About a production of The Diary Of Anne Frank. How groundbreaking...I need to start thinking of a way to get out of doing theater pieces. It bores me to tears. I'd rather just see the damn shows than squeeze out 500 words about it.)
+ Another article, for my column. (And I'll go ahead and call Squalus' pseudo-stalking bluff of finding it and reading it by saying you can find my work at Culture Week's website.)
+ Laundry.........................
+ Packing.........................
+ Coming home to no doubt an empty house Thursday afternoon (Squalus, you're more than welcome to come over for lunch if you'd like, seeing as you probably know where I live and all.)
+ Finishing my chapter on Muswell Hillbillies.
+ Getting my articles done by Friday.
+ Driving down to New Albany to stay at Eric's overnight.
+ BEACH.
My last day at Spencer's for the next two weeks was today.
m@ dropped by this weekend. I can't say I see him enough, but it goes from intellectual discourse to jokes and back again. I like it.
My friend Tyler decided to steal my lighter and set some garbage behind my apartment on fire. Daniel and I put it out - I used a fire extinguisher, which wasn't half as cool as how I thought it would go...and as soon as the cardboard boxes were reduced to smoldering rubble we both got to meet some of Bloomington's finest police officers and firemen. I'm not kidding, either, they were actually really nice. We were completely honest and told them what had happened: my friend took my lighter and did something stupid. He got fined for starting a fire in town without a permit, but not before the police quite literally scolded him for how stupid that was.
The fire was as tall as me and the size of a sofa, but it was all cardboard boxes burning.
Also, I completely agree with m@'s comment regarding Squalus. I think the time has come for you to mosey on into someone else's life and dispense too-little-too-late greeting card advice to them. You're like Dr. Phil, but somehow you manage to be dumber. It's funny to read what you say since it's either painfully obvious or the complete opposite of what I should do, like advising someone to lift weights with their back and keep their knees rigid.
And yes, enough of this shroud of mystery, only to attempt to plant a seed of paranoia in my head by mentioning the beach, or Shelley's parents' names, or my family, or whatever. Congratulations, Squalus, you know how to read my blog and retain the information within my entries. You have proven your reading retention skills to me, Shelley, m@, Forrest, and whoever else reads this.
In other words: there's the door, and don't let it hit your ass on the way out. Enjoy being in the so-called periphery of my life as my "embedded benefactor," which you still haven't taken the time yet to explain to me (or my regular comment-writing readers) just what the fuck that's even supposed to mean.
Also: I know who you are.
Alex
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
The One Where Your Narrator Gets All Nostalgic And Shit
On this day in history, the United States became the first (and only) nation to utilize weapons of mass destruction when it dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, effectively ending World War II. 140,000 Japanese citizens died.
Sounds awful, right? Read on.
Revisionists claim this was an "unnecessary measure," and that the United States only did this to intimidate the Soviet Union in the advent of postwar negotiations of who would control what in Europe. This is absolute codswallop. We had to avoid a shooting war in Japan, where the idea of surrender was unheard of in their culture. The Allies would be fighting civilians as well as soldiers. The Defense Department speculated casualties in the millions for the United States Army. Not hundreds of thousands - MILLIONS. Among the potential dead would have been Charles E. Rowan, my maternal grandfather.
It was a simple case of pain and suffering now or much more pain and suffering later. Nothing to do with pressuring Stalin to shut his yap during negotiations. I will concede however that an unintended effect of this act was the Cold War. But quite frankly, that was nothing more than the diplomatic equivalent of seeing who had the bigger dick.
On a completely unrelated note: no response yet from Squalus? Darn, guess I won't be sleeping tonight.
On an even more unrelated note: there are a few songs out there that I can say truly tap deep into my emotions. Most of them are Kinks, Who, or Beatles songs, the occasional Zappa song (let's face it, Frank wasn't the most emotional man in the world)...but this one I just happened to discover at an opportune time.
The first girl I ever "knew" in the Biblical sense was a girl from Bedford named Sommer. We made a lot of big plans prematurely, which in retrospect was stupid, but made perfect sense for my 16 year old and her 17 year old brains. Regardless, it ended painfully when she left me, only to want me back weeks later, then dump me again, and my fears of infidelity (at least EIGHT times in less than six months) were confirmed after the fact.
My first real job ever was working as a DJ at wedding receptions. On one cold, dewy Indiana night I went to the bowling alley in Seymour for my first night on the job. I was helping my boss' 30 year old son Bill run karaoke. Bill and some girl around my age did this song. As you know with karaoke, the lyrics are posted on the screen. It struck a chord for me, both lyrically and musically, the lyrics were obvious (I'll post them in just a second), while the feel of the line "And now our bodies are oh so close and tight" sent chills down my spine.
It wasn't until just tonight that I learned that line uses the B-flat chord, which I have officially deemed my favorite chord. The Kinks use it in "He's Evil," OK Go uses it in "Here It Goes Again"...it gives that slightly haunting minor feel without going into a different key. You'll notice it - it's all about the feel, you don't have to hear it and say, "Oh, well, that's a b-flat..." you'll feel it.
I'd also like to add - as you'll see in the printed lyrics - that the third "movement" of the song made me laugh, and in turn helped me get over what was the roughest period of my life to that point. It has very witty - and jaw-droppingly accurate - words.
This is the first time I've ever discussed this with anyone, and I'm pleased to have gotten it off of my chest. Without further ado, "Paradise By The Dashboard Light" by Meat Loaf:
Paradise By The Dashboard Light
I. Paradise
Boy:
I remember every little thing
As if it happened only yesterday
Parking by the lake
And there was not another car in sight
And I never had a girl
Looking any better than you did
And all the kids at school
They were wishing they were me that night
And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C'mon! Hold on tight!
C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light
Girl:
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely dressed
Ain't no doubt about it
Baby got to go and shout it
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Boy:
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely dressed
Baby doncha hear my heart
You got it drowning out the radio
I've been waiting so long
For you to come along and have some fun
And I gotta let ya know
No you're never gonna regret it
So open up your eyes I got a big surprise
It'll feel all right
Well I wanna make your motor run
And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C'mon! Hold on tight!
C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonley in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light
Paradise by the dashboard light
You got to do what you can
And let Mother Nature do the rest
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely--
We're gonna go all the way tonight
We're gonna go allt he way
An tonight's the night...
Radio Broadcast:
Ok, here we go, we got a real pressure cooker going here, two down, nobody on, no score, bottom of the ninth, there's the wind-up and there it is, a line shot up the middle, look at him go. This boy can really fly! He's rounding first and really turning it on now, he's not letting up at all, he's gonna try for second; the ball is bobbled out in center, and here comes the throw, and what a throw! He's gonna slide in head first, here he comes, he's out! No, wait, safe--safe at second base, this kid really makes things happen out there. Batter steps up to the plate, here's the pitch--he's going, and what a jump he's got, he's trying for third, here's the throw, it's in the dirt--safe at third! Holy cow, stolen base! He's taking a pretty big lead out there, almost daring him to try and pick him off. The pitcher glances over, winds up, and it's bunted, bunted down the third base line, the suicide squeeze in on! Here he comes, squeeze play, it's gonna be close, here's the throw, there's the play at the plate, holy cow, I think he's gonna make it!
II. Let Me Sleep On It
Girl:
Stop right there!
I gotta know right now!
Before we go any further--!
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?
Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?
Do you love me!?
Will you love me forever!?
Do you need me!?
Will you never leave me!?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life!?
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife!?
I gotta know right now
Before we go any further
Do you love me!!!?
Will you love me forever!!!?
Boy:
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you my answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you my answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you my answer in the morning
Girl:
I gotta know right now!
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?
Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?
I gotta know right now!
Before we go any further
Do you love me?
And will you love me forever?
Boy:
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you my answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it!!!
Girl:
Will you love me forever?
Boy:
Let me sleep on it!!!
Girl:
Will you love me forever!!!
III. Praying for the End of Time
Boy:
I couldn't take it any longer
Lord I was crazed
And when the feeling came upon me
Like a tidal wave
I started swearing to my god and on my mother's grave
That I would love you to the end of time
I swore that I would love you to the end of time!
So now I'm praying for the end of time
To hurry up and arrive
Cause if I gotta spend another minute with you
I don't think that I can really survive
I'll never break my promise or forget my vow
But God only knows what I can do right now
I'm praying for the end of time
It's all that I can do
Praying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you!!!
Boy:
It was long ago and it was far away
and it was so much better than it is today
Girl:
It never felt so good
It never felt so right
And we were glowing like
A metal on the edge of a knife
***************************************************
It's worth mentioning that Todd Rundgren plays guitar on this track, his fellow Utopia bandmates Kasim Sultan and Roger Powell on bass and keyboards respectively, Edgar Winter (brother of Johnny, leader of The Edgar Winter Group - they did "Frankenstein," which sounds like a bitchin' outtake from Hot Rats) on saxophone, and Max Weinberg of Springsteen's E-Street Band on drums, though you may know him better as the drumming bandleader on Conan. Todd also produced the album.
As for Sommer, there wasn't ever any real closure or confrontation on it. And that's okay. That summer - 2004 - she was on staff at the church camp, and I again learned how her reputation as a trollop was almost the stuff of humor with other members of the staff. We were able to talk for about a half an hour, just catching up on what we were up to, only to be interrupted by someone else who needed her for something right as our conversation was about to get interesting.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't entirely sad when I learned she'd moved out and shacked up with her coworker at McDonald's, passing on college (though she'd gotten accepted) and her parents hadn't heard from her in a few months. That was November 2005. I next heard about her when I saw she'd been taken in for questioning, then later arrested, for petty theft. To quote a Kinks song title, "easy come, there you went."
In the long run, I'm glad what happened happened. It made me bitter for a long, long while...though in time I just became smarter and infinitely more cautious. I also can't stress enough how happy I am with Shelley. Sommer pretended to like what I liked. The Who was my favorite band at that point and - what do you know? - they were hers, too...though years later rediscovering her on Facebook I saw her interests were the likes of Nascar and country music. She lied to impress me, then messed around in my absence.
I don't have to worry about that with Shelley. When we're working on math homework or just sitting in my room I can put my iTunes on random and just about 95% of what comes on she likes. To my surprise, she DOES like the bizarre ramblings of Beefheart and the what-pop-music-sounds-like-in-Hell of The Residents, and yet she's largely unimpressed by Cheap Trick barring a few standout tracks. She digs Charley Patton and Skip James, but passes on Ministry and Iron Maiden. The greatest thing about our relationship for both of us is that we're allowed to be ourselves with one another.
Anyway - two more days of this infernal math class. It cannot end soon enough!
Alex
Sounds awful, right? Read on.
Revisionists claim this was an "unnecessary measure," and that the United States only did this to intimidate the Soviet Union in the advent of postwar negotiations of who would control what in Europe. This is absolute codswallop. We had to avoid a shooting war in Japan, where the idea of surrender was unheard of in their culture. The Allies would be fighting civilians as well as soldiers. The Defense Department speculated casualties in the millions for the United States Army. Not hundreds of thousands - MILLIONS. Among the potential dead would have been Charles E. Rowan, my maternal grandfather.
It was a simple case of pain and suffering now or much more pain and suffering later. Nothing to do with pressuring Stalin to shut his yap during negotiations. I will concede however that an unintended effect of this act was the Cold War. But quite frankly, that was nothing more than the diplomatic equivalent of seeing who had the bigger dick.
On a completely unrelated note: no response yet from Squalus? Darn, guess I won't be sleeping tonight.
On an even more unrelated note: there are a few songs out there that I can say truly tap deep into my emotions. Most of them are Kinks, Who, or Beatles songs, the occasional Zappa song (let's face it, Frank wasn't the most emotional man in the world)...but this one I just happened to discover at an opportune time.
The first girl I ever "knew" in the Biblical sense was a girl from Bedford named Sommer. We made a lot of big plans prematurely, which in retrospect was stupid, but made perfect sense for my 16 year old and her 17 year old brains. Regardless, it ended painfully when she left me, only to want me back weeks later, then dump me again, and my fears of infidelity (at least EIGHT times in less than six months) were confirmed after the fact.
My first real job ever was working as a DJ at wedding receptions. On one cold, dewy Indiana night I went to the bowling alley in Seymour for my first night on the job. I was helping my boss' 30 year old son Bill run karaoke. Bill and some girl around my age did this song. As you know with karaoke, the lyrics are posted on the screen. It struck a chord for me, both lyrically and musically, the lyrics were obvious (I'll post them in just a second), while the feel of the line "And now our bodies are oh so close and tight" sent chills down my spine.
It wasn't until just tonight that I learned that line uses the B-flat chord, which I have officially deemed my favorite chord. The Kinks use it in "He's Evil," OK Go uses it in "Here It Goes Again"...it gives that slightly haunting minor feel without going into a different key. You'll notice it - it's all about the feel, you don't have to hear it and say, "Oh, well, that's a b-flat..." you'll feel it.
I'd also like to add - as you'll see in the printed lyrics - that the third "movement" of the song made me laugh, and in turn helped me get over what was the roughest period of my life to that point. It has very witty - and jaw-droppingly accurate - words.
This is the first time I've ever discussed this with anyone, and I'm pleased to have gotten it off of my chest. Without further ado, "Paradise By The Dashboard Light" by Meat Loaf:
Paradise By The Dashboard Light
I. Paradise
Boy:
I remember every little thing
As if it happened only yesterday
Parking by the lake
And there was not another car in sight
And I never had a girl
Looking any better than you did
And all the kids at school
They were wishing they were me that night
And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C'mon! Hold on tight!
C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light
Girl:
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely dressed
Ain't no doubt about it
Baby got to go and shout it
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Boy:
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely dressed
Baby doncha hear my heart
You got it drowning out the radio
I've been waiting so long
For you to come along and have some fun
And I gotta let ya know
No you're never gonna regret it
So open up your eyes I got a big surprise
It'll feel all right
Well I wanna make your motor run
And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C'mon! Hold on tight!
C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonley in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light
Paradise by the dashboard light
You got to do what you can
And let Mother Nature do the rest
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely--
We're gonna go all the way tonight
We're gonna go allt he way
An tonight's the night...
Radio Broadcast:
Ok, here we go, we got a real pressure cooker going here, two down, nobody on, no score, bottom of the ninth, there's the wind-up and there it is, a line shot up the middle, look at him go. This boy can really fly! He's rounding first and really turning it on now, he's not letting up at all, he's gonna try for second; the ball is bobbled out in center, and here comes the throw, and what a throw! He's gonna slide in head first, here he comes, he's out! No, wait, safe--safe at second base, this kid really makes things happen out there. Batter steps up to the plate, here's the pitch--he's going, and what a jump he's got, he's trying for third, here's the throw, it's in the dirt--safe at third! Holy cow, stolen base! He's taking a pretty big lead out there, almost daring him to try and pick him off. The pitcher glances over, winds up, and it's bunted, bunted down the third base line, the suicide squeeze in on! Here he comes, squeeze play, it's gonna be close, here's the throw, there's the play at the plate, holy cow, I think he's gonna make it!
II. Let Me Sleep On It
Girl:
Stop right there!
I gotta know right now!
Before we go any further--!
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?
Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?
Do you love me!?
Will you love me forever!?
Do you need me!?
Will you never leave me!?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life!?
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife!?
I gotta know right now
Before we go any further
Do you love me!!!?
Will you love me forever!!!?
Boy:
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you my answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you my answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you my answer in the morning
Girl:
I gotta know right now!
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?
Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?
I gotta know right now!
Before we go any further
Do you love me?
And will you love me forever?
Boy:
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you my answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it!!!
Girl:
Will you love me forever?
Boy:
Let me sleep on it!!!
Girl:
Will you love me forever!!!
III. Praying for the End of Time
Boy:
I couldn't take it any longer
Lord I was crazed
And when the feeling came upon me
Like a tidal wave
I started swearing to my god and on my mother's grave
That I would love you to the end of time
I swore that I would love you to the end of time!
So now I'm praying for the end of time
To hurry up and arrive
Cause if I gotta spend another minute with you
I don't think that I can really survive
I'll never break my promise or forget my vow
But God only knows what I can do right now
I'm praying for the end of time
It's all that I can do
Praying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you!!!
Boy:
It was long ago and it was far away
and it was so much better than it is today
Girl:
It never felt so good
It never felt so right
And we were glowing like
A metal on the edge of a knife
***************************************************
It's worth mentioning that Todd Rundgren plays guitar on this track, his fellow Utopia bandmates Kasim Sultan and Roger Powell on bass and keyboards respectively, Edgar Winter (brother of Johnny, leader of The Edgar Winter Group - they did "Frankenstein," which sounds like a bitchin' outtake from Hot Rats) on saxophone, and Max Weinberg of Springsteen's E-Street Band on drums, though you may know him better as the drumming bandleader on Conan. Todd also produced the album.
As for Sommer, there wasn't ever any real closure or confrontation on it. And that's okay. That summer - 2004 - she was on staff at the church camp, and I again learned how her reputation as a trollop was almost the stuff of humor with other members of the staff. We were able to talk for about a half an hour, just catching up on what we were up to, only to be interrupted by someone else who needed her for something right as our conversation was about to get interesting.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't entirely sad when I learned she'd moved out and shacked up with her coworker at McDonald's, passing on college (though she'd gotten accepted) and her parents hadn't heard from her in a few months. That was November 2005. I next heard about her when I saw she'd been taken in for questioning, then later arrested, for petty theft. To quote a Kinks song title, "easy come, there you went."
In the long run, I'm glad what happened happened. It made me bitter for a long, long while...though in time I just became smarter and infinitely more cautious. I also can't stress enough how happy I am with Shelley. Sommer pretended to like what I liked. The Who was my favorite band at that point and - what do you know? - they were hers, too...though years later rediscovering her on Facebook I saw her interests were the likes of Nascar and country music. She lied to impress me, then messed around in my absence.
I don't have to worry about that with Shelley. When we're working on math homework or just sitting in my room I can put my iTunes on random and just about 95% of what comes on she likes. To my surprise, she DOES like the bizarre ramblings of Beefheart and the what-pop-music-sounds-like-in-Hell of The Residents, and yet she's largely unimpressed by Cheap Trick barring a few standout tracks. She digs Charley Patton and Skip James, but passes on Ministry and Iron Maiden. The greatest thing about our relationship for both of us is that we're allowed to be ourselves with one another.
Anyway - two more days of this infernal math class. It cannot end soon enough!
Alex
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Squalus - I'm Calling You Out.
Squalus Maximus -
It's time for you to either come clean or piss off. It's obvious by this point you aren't someone I hold in high regard - your advice sucks, my first encounter with you was a comment revealing that I was dating Shelley, and yet you're able to know both my family members by name and Shelley's parents?
Who are you? And no more of this "embedded benefactor" horseshit - whatever the Hell that even means. You are either someone I know from IU or from Seymour. Unfortunately, that's a fairly long list. I don't give a damn what your intentions were/are in leaving anonymous comments on my blog - whether it was to offer "advice" or to mess with my head - you are succeeding at the latter. The list of people I feel I can trust has dramatically shortened to the few who I know you are not.
I know you aren't someone I consider a close friend, though your stalker-esque qualities in knowing who's who in Shelley's family is suggestive of otherwise.
And as for your last piece of advice? THANK YOU, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS! You must not really know me all that well, as it's been fairly well-established that Shelley dealing with her parents will wait until a point in time we have both determined.
Moreover, how dare you even pretend to know my family dynamic in telling me I "got lucky" with telling my parents? What I failed to mention online, but is a largely agreed-upon fact in the real world is that my parents are two open-minded individuals. Do you really think my Mom's initial reaction to the news that I was dating Shelley would be an effective gauge of how she would feel about it for the rest of her life?
If you'd like to disclose yourself to me privately - and if you insist I can stay mum as to who you are - you can reach me over Facebook and/or at my IU email address:
adiblasi@indiana.edu
No more of this demand that you remain a figure in the shadowy periphery of my life. Nor more refusing to drop even a hint. I insist that you come out and tell me who you are.
I have access to I/P tracking software. It would be in your best interests to tell me rather than have me find out on my own. You have been warned.
Alex
It's time for you to either come clean or piss off. It's obvious by this point you aren't someone I hold in high regard - your advice sucks, my first encounter with you was a comment revealing that I was dating Shelley, and yet you're able to know both my family members by name and Shelley's parents?
Who are you? And no more of this "embedded benefactor" horseshit - whatever the Hell that even means. You are either someone I know from IU or from Seymour. Unfortunately, that's a fairly long list. I don't give a damn what your intentions were/are in leaving anonymous comments on my blog - whether it was to offer "advice" or to mess with my head - you are succeeding at the latter. The list of people I feel I can trust has dramatically shortened to the few who I know you are not.
I know you aren't someone I consider a close friend, though your stalker-esque qualities in knowing who's who in Shelley's family is suggestive of otherwise.
And as for your last piece of advice? THANK YOU, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS! You must not really know me all that well, as it's been fairly well-established that Shelley dealing with her parents will wait until a point in time we have both determined.
Moreover, how dare you even pretend to know my family dynamic in telling me I "got lucky" with telling my parents? What I failed to mention online, but is a largely agreed-upon fact in the real world is that my parents are two open-minded individuals. Do you really think my Mom's initial reaction to the news that I was dating Shelley would be an effective gauge of how she would feel about it for the rest of her life?
If you'd like to disclose yourself to me privately - and if you insist I can stay mum as to who you are - you can reach me over Facebook and/or at my IU email address:
adiblasi@indiana.edu
No more of this demand that you remain a figure in the shadowy periphery of my life. Nor more refusing to drop even a hint. I insist that you come out and tell me who you are.
I have access to I/P tracking software. It would be in your best interests to tell me rather than have me find out on my own. You have been warned.
Alex
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Is It August Yet? *checks calendar* Dammit!
Since I am at heart a 13 year old girl, I can't help but fill out these stupid little questionnaires. Let me defend this first by saying it's like being fed lines for comedy. Second? Umm...you'll see.
Can you answer 48 questions about just 1 person?
Don’t change the friend half way through.
1) What’s their name?
Shelley "Two-Sheds" Leshin
2) Does he or she have a boyfriend/girlfriend?
Some guy who looks like the ugly love child of Frank Zappa and Bam Margera.
3)Do you get along with this person all the time?
I would never guessed I'd be saying this - especially if you had asked me in April 2007 - but...yes. We really do.
4) How old is the person?
21.
5) Has he/she ever cooked for you?
A few times, baked chicken (delicious), tuna salad (sorry, but it just wasn't the way I liked it - yuck.), and many sandwiches. In all fairness, I have cooked for her, too.
6) Is this person older than you?
I am older by 22 days. With any luck I'll die 22 days after she does. Eat it.
7) Have you ever kissed this person?
Classy gentlemen don't kiss and tell. So HELL yeah, I DOMINATE them lips!
Once again, missing a question! Are these kids all hopped up on dope with their iPhones and their Hannah Montanas and all that bippity-boppity music they listen to? Guess it's up to me to write one...
8) How did you meet?
It was because of an errant piece of chalk. And yet, I don't know whatever became of it... The fact of the matter is that it was such a bizarre series of events that it only made sense that we're, you know, in love now.
9) Are you related to this person?
If I found out tomorrow that we were, unless she objected, I'd still be with her. Just no kids of our own.
10) Are you really close to him/her?
Can't help but smile as I type this: yes.
11) Nicknames?
Occasionally Dopey, Sleeping Beauty, or if I'm feeling Moe Howard-esque "chowder-head."
12.) Do they have a nickname for you?
Besides dumbass?
13) How many times do you talk to this person in a week?
Daily.
14) Do you think they will repost this?
You know what? I hope so.
15) Could you live with this person?
We have...we aren't now...we won't this school year...but maybe someday again...
16) Why is this person your number 1?
Because Frank Zappa, George Harrison, Keith Moon, and Edie Sedgwick are all dead.
No, but seriously, take a look at me. I need to hang on to whoever comes my way! You really think girls who like The Residents, Monty Python, The Kinks, and know who Jimmy Carl Black is just grow on trees on some farm somewhere?! Show me that farm. SHOW ME THAT FARM!
For real seriously, we just care about each other. Neither of us can really explain it...those of you who read and regularly comment (this excludes Squalus, he/she must be out saving the world, one bad piece of after-the-fact advice at a time) have witnessed it...we just get each other. We click. It's sheer chemistry, and it has only grown stronger.
Dammit! No number 17? Once again...
17) Why wasn't there a number 17 on this survey?
Because all the youth of today are too stupid. They're all a bunch of discourteous, text-messaging, Taco Bell-patronizing little buggers! (I really don't know why. It sucks.)
18) How long have you known this person?
Hard to believe, but a few months shy of three years. Though it has felt like a lifetime in a good way.
19) Have you ever been to the mall with this person?
Yes. She had never held hands with a guy at the mall, so I obliged her and bought her a cherry phosphate, Captain Beefheart style.
20) Have you ever had a sleepover with this person?
Heh-heh, they asked a dirty question!
21) If you ever moved away would you miss this person?
Ideally, she would come with me...right?
22) Have you ever done something really stupid or illegal with this person?
Yes. The former just about every day, the latter...no comment.
23) Do you know everything about this person?
She is totally for me getting the quadratic formula tattooed on my arm. What else do I need?
24) Would you date this person’s siblings?
Jared seems nice, I'll be he's a cuddler. He just looks like he'd take you out to an upscale steakhouse, maybe go see a show, then have some wine by the fire...frankly, he's just too classy for me.
25) Have you ever made something with this person?
Other than a steaming heap of broken bottles? Some movies, which I shall shamelessly plug once more:
Insomniac Romance (2006)
The Banana (2006)
I Am Woman, Hear Me Whimper (2007) - Shelley did this virtually unassisted by me. I just ran the camera and let her edit on my computer.
26) Is your #1 on drugs?
She kind of looks like an un-tanned Amy Winehouse...who knows?
27) Have you ever worn this person’s clothes?
A hoodie or jacket, and that's about it.
28) Does this person wear your clothes?
She sleeps in one of my old t-shirts and changes into a pair of my boxers when it's too hot at my place.
29) If it was “freaky friday” would you switch bodies with this person?
Yes, though I'd spend most of the day squatting over a mirror.
36) Have you ever heard this person sing?
Yes, and I will be the first to tell you it is one of those things where you give and A for effort...
37) Do you and this person have a saying?
"Hey! Don't get caught with your dick the mashed potatoes this time!" Long story.
38) Do you know this persons facebook password?
Yes. I change her status from time to time.
39) Have you seen this person naked?
Never. *scoffs*
40) Have you and this person ever gotten into a fight that lasted more than 2 months?
Other than that time we got pinned down at Mekong Delta and we held our ground for three months (Forrest was there, too), no.
41.) Have you and this person gone clubbing?
Clubbing, as in baby seals? No. Clubbing, as in getting all hopped up on Quaaludes and painting the town red? Nightly.
42) Do you know how to make this person feel happy?
I do, I do.
43) Do you and this person talk alot?
Nah, not too much.
44) Do you like this person?
She'll do. (Seriously, like is too lame a word for what's going on.)
45) Has this person yelled at you?
We aren't without our quibbles.
46) Have you and this person got into a fist fight?
Never out of anger, like a play fight...though one time she accidentally racked my nuts.
47) Do you want to go out with this person?
Only if she's buying.
48) Do you want to be friends with them forever?
More than that. I want to buy her a piece of jewelry. They have those 25-cent rings at the grocery store - she'll never know the difference!
Wait, crap, SHE READS THIS!
At least I can change it before I press...
[PUBLISH POST]
Can you answer 48 questions about just 1 person?
Don’t change the friend half way through.
1) What’s their name?
Shelley "Two-Sheds" Leshin
2) Does he or she have a boyfriend/girlfriend?
Some guy who looks like the ugly love child of Frank Zappa and Bam Margera.
3)Do you get along with this person all the time?
I would never guessed I'd be saying this - especially if you had asked me in April 2007 - but...yes. We really do.
4) How old is the person?
21.
5) Has he/she ever cooked for you?
A few times, baked chicken (delicious), tuna salad (sorry, but it just wasn't the way I liked it - yuck.), and many sandwiches. In all fairness, I have cooked for her, too.
6) Is this person older than you?
I am older by 22 days. With any luck I'll die 22 days after she does. Eat it.
7) Have you ever kissed this person?
Classy gentlemen don't kiss and tell. So HELL yeah, I DOMINATE them lips!
Once again, missing a question! Are these kids all hopped up on dope with their iPhones and their Hannah Montanas and all that bippity-boppity music they listen to? Guess it's up to me to write one...
8) How did you meet?
It was because of an errant piece of chalk. And yet, I don't know whatever became of it... The fact of the matter is that it was such a bizarre series of events that it only made sense that we're, you know, in love now.
9) Are you related to this person?
If I found out tomorrow that we were, unless she objected, I'd still be with her. Just no kids of our own.
10) Are you really close to him/her?
Can't help but smile as I type this: yes.
11) Nicknames?
Occasionally Dopey, Sleeping Beauty, or if I'm feeling Moe Howard-esque "chowder-head."
12.) Do they have a nickname for you?
Besides dumbass?
13) How many times do you talk to this person in a week?
Daily.
14) Do you think they will repost this?
You know what? I hope so.
15) Could you live with this person?
We have...we aren't now...we won't this school year...but maybe someday again...
16) Why is this person your number 1?
Because Frank Zappa, George Harrison, Keith Moon, and Edie Sedgwick are all dead.
No, but seriously, take a look at me. I need to hang on to whoever comes my way! You really think girls who like The Residents, Monty Python, The Kinks, and know who Jimmy Carl Black is just grow on trees on some farm somewhere?! Show me that farm. SHOW ME THAT FARM!
For real seriously, we just care about each other. Neither of us can really explain it...those of you who read and regularly comment (this excludes Squalus, he/she must be out saving the world, one bad piece of after-the-fact advice at a time) have witnessed it...we just get each other. We click. It's sheer chemistry, and it has only grown stronger.
Dammit! No number 17? Once again...
17) Why wasn't there a number 17 on this survey?
Because all the youth of today are too stupid. They're all a bunch of discourteous, text-messaging, Taco Bell-patronizing little buggers! (I really don't know why. It sucks.)
18) How long have you known this person?
Hard to believe, but a few months shy of three years. Though it has felt like a lifetime in a good way.
19) Have you ever been to the mall with this person?
Yes. She had never held hands with a guy at the mall, so I obliged her and bought her a cherry phosphate, Captain Beefheart style.
20) Have you ever had a sleepover with this person?
Heh-heh, they asked a dirty question!
21) If you ever moved away would you miss this person?
Ideally, she would come with me...right?
22) Have you ever done something really stupid or illegal with this person?
Yes. The former just about every day, the latter...no comment.
23) Do you know everything about this person?
She is totally for me getting the quadratic formula tattooed on my arm. What else do I need?
24) Would you date this person’s siblings?
Jared seems nice, I'll be he's a cuddler. He just looks like he'd take you out to an upscale steakhouse, maybe go see a show, then have some wine by the fire...frankly, he's just too classy for me.
25) Have you ever made something with this person?
Other than a steaming heap of broken bottles? Some movies, which I shall shamelessly plug once more:
Insomniac Romance (2006)
The Banana (2006)
I Am Woman, Hear Me Whimper (2007) - Shelley did this virtually unassisted by me. I just ran the camera and let her edit on my computer.
26) Is your #1 on drugs?
She kind of looks like an un-tanned Amy Winehouse...who knows?
27) Have you ever worn this person’s clothes?
A hoodie or jacket, and that's about it.
28) Does this person wear your clothes?
She sleeps in one of my old t-shirts and changes into a pair of my boxers when it's too hot at my place.
29) If it was “freaky friday” would you switch bodies with this person?
Yes, though I'd spend most of the day squatting over a mirror.
36) Have you ever heard this person sing?
Yes, and I will be the first to tell you it is one of those things where you give and A for effort...
37) Do you and this person have a saying?
"Hey! Don't get caught with your dick the mashed potatoes this time!" Long story.
38) Do you know this persons facebook password?
Yes. I change her status from time to time.
39) Have you seen this person naked?
Never. *scoffs*
40) Have you and this person ever gotten into a fight that lasted more than 2 months?
Other than that time we got pinned down at Mekong Delta and we held our ground for three months (Forrest was there, too), no.
41.) Have you and this person gone clubbing?
Clubbing, as in baby seals? No. Clubbing, as in getting all hopped up on Quaaludes and painting the town red? Nightly.
42) Do you know how to make this person feel happy?
I do, I do.
43) Do you and this person talk alot?
Nah, not too much.
44) Do you like this person?
She'll do. (Seriously, like is too lame a word for what's going on.)
45) Has this person yelled at you?
We aren't without our quibbles.
46) Have you and this person got into a fist fight?
Never out of anger, like a play fight...though one time she accidentally racked my nuts.
47) Do you want to go out with this person?
Only if she's buying.
48) Do you want to be friends with them forever?
More than that. I want to buy her a piece of jewelry. They have those 25-cent rings at the grocery store - she'll never know the difference!
Wait, crap, SHE READS THIS!
At least I can change it before I press...
[PUBLISH POST]
What Was This Abject Misery?
"Carolina Hard-Core Ecstasy" is one of my favorite Zappa songs. Terry Bozzio on drums, great playing on the verses, lets loose on the solo. Good groove on the bass from Tom Fowler.
Lunch with my parents went fine, to the point that I thought it seemed a bit short. We ate at Olive Garden then went grocery shopping. I'm pretty sure the grub should hold me over until August 13th or 14th. Still not sure when I'm actually moving out...one of those two dates. Anyway, Mom told me after that Shelley seemed "more confident" and from all I can gather left a good impression. That's always good, right?
One thing I've noticed is that not only do all these things have a way of working themselves out, I often feel like I don't give my parents enough credit. It was as though we hadn't lost a beat, just picked up right from where we started. Much like Shelley and I wanted in the first place when we got back together.
Tomorrow I'm waging my all-out assault on the 1971 Kinks album Muswell Hillbillies. As the title may suggest, the album contains elements of British country, jazz, and blues. It wasn't one of my favorites when I first heard it way back in 2001, but now being a LOT more worldly wise I have come to love it for what it is: yet another in a string of masterpieces from Ray Davies.
One thing I might do is give you guys a paragraph or two (or however much space it takes for me to do a rundown of a particular song) and provide an embedded YouTube link. I'm sure that will tickle all your fancies.
I had a rough day today, my math exam kicked my ass, then I came back here and dozed off, thinking it was my day off. Thankfully, my supervisors are understanding and chill. I still have to have a "meeting" with them to discuss this, but I have already assured them today was a fluke. A complete stress-addled fluke.
Somehow I have this feeling that the next week and a half will crawl by and seem a lot more like a month in itself. Shelley, too, since she's working the art camp at the Waldron Center downtown. It's a shame, but I'm looking forward to the end of summer. It means the beach, it means moving into my apartment, it means work at both Spencer's and the Rock & Roll History Dept., and it means classes that don't involve functions or logarithms or any of that bullshit.
I'm feeling generous, so I present to you my paragraphs on one of my favorite Kinks songs, "Top Of The Pops" from Lola Versus Powerman & The Moneygoround. I wish there weren't so many limitations that are keeping me from posting the whole thing (it's waaaaaaaay too long, you guys don't know the album, etc.), but still, let me know what you think.
(Note: I published this at 12:55 AM, right after uploading this video onto YouTube. Might want to wait about an hour or so for it to be processed.)
"A drum-roll, followed by a chipper announcement of “Yes! It’s number one, it’s Top of the Pops!” introduces “Top Of The Pops,” a song sardonically named after the BBC music program. A true hard rock song, driven by Dave’s heavy riff and Mick’s fill-laden playing, the hero deals with his gradual rise to the top. Spotted originally at #25 on the charts, Ray smugly sings, “Life is so easy when your record’s hot,” no doubt a reflection of the runaway success of “Lola” on both sides of the Atlantic. The cockiness of the main character intensifies as he muses, “I might even end up a rock and roll god./Might turn into a steady job.” Once the hit single is at “number eleven on the BBC/But number seven on the NME,” he is tapped for an interview to discuss the topics of politics and religion. During the instrumental break, a barrage of spoken voices are heard: “I’d like to ask you about your influences…”, “It’s gonna be the show of a lifetime…”, the very material that rock journalism is made from. Upon the return from the middle section, it is revealed the record is at number three now, and the main character’s star power is such that female fans scream when they see him on the street.
To the main character, it’s a dream come true, though he notes “Now I’ve got friends I thought I’d never had before…” before Dave’s searing guitar solo. Ray finishes his thought, adding that “people want you when your record’s high/But when it drops down they just pass you by.” Keeping in mind their four-year absence and less-than-triumphant return in 1969, the superstar status they attained with “Lola” no doubt inspired both this lyric and Ray’s disdain for the record industry. That grim thought is kicked to the wayside, as the hero’s manager – the one who hates his music and his haircut – greets him with the news that his single is now number one. As Ray’s humorously voiced manager states over Gosling’s organ, “now you can earn some REAL money!”, rolling his r’s on “real.”
Musically, this is The Kinks in one of their finest moments as an ensemble. Not counting the hard-rocking bridge on “Brainwashed,” this is the first time Dave has laid out a heavy riff since his song “Love Me Till The Sun Shines,” way back on 1967’s Something Else By The Kinks. John Dalton’s bassline during the break, consisting of straight eighths on a single note, adds a touch of sinister tension. John Gosling lends an atmosphere of decadence to the song with his playing. Much praise should also go to drummer Mick Avory, as he deftly pounds out the same rhythm as the instruments during the turnaround before the verse, while throughout the rest of the song he fills up space in an already loaded musical atmosphere. The scorching version on Everybody’s In Showbiz’s live disc shows this song was only better on stage."
Alex
PS - I took a whiz on my car, but it was for a reason. A cooler was in the middle of Atwater, and in the other lane was a recliner chair. I had two choices: hit the curb and get a flat, or pummel through the cooler. I chose the latter, and liquid splashed up on my car. After Shelley and I dropped Graham off, a disgusting smell permeated the interior. The cooler was full of VOMIT. Fucking vomit! It was horrendous, so before it congealed I whipped it out and pissed on the car - almost vomiting myself, but it took care of the problem. Who would have thought such a juvenile act could actually serve a purpose?
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Stuff That Actually Matters In The Long Run
I received an email today from one of the CMCL advisors. She's working on a new undergrad brochure for the program and wanted quotes from students.
Here's my reply, with cynicism that would make FZ proud:
"Get a second major. Otherwise it will be as if you didn't even go to college, and more like you just lost $60,000."
Of course, the same can be said about a number of liberal arts programs: pair it up with something and/or earn two minors, OR go one for at least your M.A., or you will find yourself working at Starbucks, serving ninnies who are the way you were three years ago.
Bitter much? Yes.
In all truth, I will be reapplying to the CMCL graduate program. Only this time, I know just what I'll be studying. A grad student friend said that Rock & Roll History is actually a blossoming field in academia, and I would be just as welcome - if not more - in CMCL as I would in a music program. Just something to think about.
I did also write a real one praising the program's ability to expand students' methods of thinking and specifically mentioned that everyone needs to take a class with Joan Hawkins - she truly is one of the best professors I've ever had, always very mellow, easy to talk to, and has a great sense of humor.
But one thing I avoided saying in my "real" write-up was that this program opens doors and guarantees a job. I also avoided using the word "great" to describe it. I loved 5 of my ten classes, really liked one, thought two were just okay, and hated the other two. Three of those five were with the classes I had with Professor Hawkins.
In other news, I filled out all the necessary forms for the position as Andy's grading assistant - though one of the ladies was extremely icy and impolite saying, "It's not an A.I. job, it's an hourly paid position." Kind of - no, not kind of - a TOTAL bitch. The other lady was much nicer and actually had a sense of humor. The clock-in, clock-out thing made no sense, but I'm sure I can figure it out.
And - payments are direct deposit. Can't complain about that. I've got stuff to save up for.
Alex
Here's my reply, with cynicism that would make FZ proud:
"Get a second major. Otherwise it will be as if you didn't even go to college, and more like you just lost $60,000."
Of course, the same can be said about a number of liberal arts programs: pair it up with something and/or earn two minors, OR go one for at least your M.A., or you will find yourself working at Starbucks, serving ninnies who are the way you were three years ago.
Bitter much? Yes.
In all truth, I will be reapplying to the CMCL graduate program. Only this time, I know just what I'll be studying. A grad student friend said that Rock & Roll History is actually a blossoming field in academia, and I would be just as welcome - if not more - in CMCL as I would in a music program. Just something to think about.
I did also write a real one praising the program's ability to expand students' methods of thinking and specifically mentioned that everyone needs to take a class with Joan Hawkins - she truly is one of the best professors I've ever had, always very mellow, easy to talk to, and has a great sense of humor.
But one thing I avoided saying in my "real" write-up was that this program opens doors and guarantees a job. I also avoided using the word "great" to describe it. I loved 5 of my ten classes, really liked one, thought two were just okay, and hated the other two. Three of those five were with the classes I had with Professor Hawkins.
In other news, I filled out all the necessary forms for the position as Andy's grading assistant - though one of the ladies was extremely icy and impolite saying, "It's not an A.I. job, it's an hourly paid position." Kind of - no, not kind of - a TOTAL bitch. The other lady was much nicer and actually had a sense of humor. The clock-in, clock-out thing made no sense, but I'm sure I can figure it out.
And - payments are direct deposit. Can't complain about that. I've got stuff to save up for.
Alex
"I'm free/I'm free/And freedom tastes of reality"
The Who's Tommy is my favorite album, tied with Preservation Act 2 by The Kinks. I've been wanting to quote something from it for a long time. Now's my chance.
Let me first follow up on my last post, then respond to each of you individually.
It dawned on me this morning as I biked to class that what had me so upset was that my existence was the result of a very delicate balance. But then I realized something: even without all that, the way human biology works, all of us are here as the result of a very delicate balance.
What matters is that I DO exist, and to make the most out of it. Oddly enough, this is advice I heard from Richard Dawkins.
m@ - I work Friday, but I'm free after 9:30 PM if you're still around then. Let me know if that works for you.
Shelley - What can I possibly say? You were here for me.
Squalus - In your anonymous omniscience, all I can say is thanks for imparting your opinion to me in such a timely manner. Since I still don't know who you are I cannot evaluate how qualified you are to say whether or not telling them was a bad idea.
I appreciate your support in telling me to stay strong, though I am still bothered by your lack of identity. You strike me at times as a poor man's m@, and other times oddly well-informed. I can assume you live in Seymour.
This wasn't a mistake. I needed to get it out into the open. I want Shelley to be there with me at Eric and Maddie's wedding, a major family event with lots of pictures. Also, I don't want to dance with anyone else - and she can FINALLY have the pleasure of meeting my grandparents, those lovable raconteurs.
But more importantly, we're going to have enough bullshit to deal with regarding Shelley's own parents...talk about an uphill battle, seeing as in the 14 months since I last communicated with them I have remained a non-Jew. Shelley's parents are stuck in the 1950's and even more stubborn and set in their ways. They can (and will) pretend nothing is wrong. I still don't know which one is worse.
Anyway, the way I see it, the thought of my folks being the "good" parents in all of this - that is, the accepting parents - and having them on our side when push finally does come to shove with Shelley's parents is ideal. Otherwise, it wouldn't be good parents/bad parents. It would just be an elopement.
ANYWAY, I'm sure Eric and Maddie are trying their hardest to keep their plans for the wedding, etc., to themselves. It's just not easy. I feel lucky over here since I can recap my week in a telephone conversation.
Oh, and trust me, there will be head games aplenty.
Before I told her Shelley and I were together, she and Dad were considering a visit to Bloomington on Sunday. This morning in my inbox was an email that ended with "Think about coming over for a visit. Miss you." Not "Thinking about coming over for a visit" or "See you Sunday - call and let me know what time works for you", but a subtle urge to go back to that shit palace (the town, not our house - we actually have a nice house) for a night, and all because I have a morning class and free evenings.
Yeah, let me think about that...
Guess there's a general consensus of no, plus one "bloody fairy."
I don't even care what excuse I come up with. I'm not doing that in one night. It will get to be too late, I know I wouldn't be able to coax Shelley into coming (why, I just don't know...), waste of gas, and a shit-ton of deer await me on the dark curvy highways. I'm serious, those little bastards get me white-knuckled. I would love to travel down that stretch of road with Forrest, because 1.) I wouldn't have to worry about hitting deer, and 2.) Have you ever had deer jerky? Delicious.
At any rate, there's two of them and one of me. It's more economical that they come here.
Alex
Let me first follow up on my last post, then respond to each of you individually.
It dawned on me this morning as I biked to class that what had me so upset was that my existence was the result of a very delicate balance. But then I realized something: even without all that, the way human biology works, all of us are here as the result of a very delicate balance.
What matters is that I DO exist, and to make the most out of it. Oddly enough, this is advice I heard from Richard Dawkins.
m@ - I work Friday, but I'm free after 9:30 PM if you're still around then. Let me know if that works for you.
Shelley - What can I possibly say? You were here for me.
Squalus - In your anonymous omniscience, all I can say is thanks for imparting your opinion to me in such a timely manner. Since I still don't know who you are I cannot evaluate how qualified you are to say whether or not telling them was a bad idea.
I appreciate your support in telling me to stay strong, though I am still bothered by your lack of identity. You strike me at times as a poor man's m@, and other times oddly well-informed. I can assume you live in Seymour.
This wasn't a mistake. I needed to get it out into the open. I want Shelley to be there with me at Eric and Maddie's wedding, a major family event with lots of pictures. Also, I don't want to dance with anyone else - and she can FINALLY have the pleasure of meeting my grandparents, those lovable raconteurs.
But more importantly, we're going to have enough bullshit to deal with regarding Shelley's own parents...talk about an uphill battle, seeing as in the 14 months since I last communicated with them I have remained a non-Jew. Shelley's parents are stuck in the 1950's and even more stubborn and set in their ways. They can (and will) pretend nothing is wrong. I still don't know which one is worse.
Anyway, the way I see it, the thought of my folks being the "good" parents in all of this - that is, the accepting parents - and having them on our side when push finally does come to shove with Shelley's parents is ideal. Otherwise, it wouldn't be good parents/bad parents. It would just be an elopement.
ANYWAY, I'm sure Eric and Maddie are trying their hardest to keep their plans for the wedding, etc., to themselves. It's just not easy. I feel lucky over here since I can recap my week in a telephone conversation.
Oh, and trust me, there will be head games aplenty.
Before I told her Shelley and I were together, she and Dad were considering a visit to Bloomington on Sunday. This morning in my inbox was an email that ended with "Think about coming over for a visit. Miss you." Not "Thinking about coming over for a visit" or "See you Sunday - call and let me know what time works for you", but a subtle urge to go back to that shit palace (the town, not our house - we actually have a nice house) for a night, and all because I have a morning class and free evenings.
Yeah, let me think about that...
Guess there's a general consensus of no, plus one "bloody fairy."
I don't even care what excuse I come up with. I'm not doing that in one night. It will get to be too late, I know I wouldn't be able to coax Shelley into coming (why, I just don't know...), waste of gas, and a shit-ton of deer await me on the dark curvy highways. I'm serious, those little bastards get me white-knuckled. I would love to travel down that stretch of road with Forrest, because 1.) I wouldn't have to worry about hitting deer, and 2.) Have you ever had deer jerky? Delicious.
At any rate, there's two of them and one of me. It's more economical that they come here.
Alex
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
"Someone Help Me Off Of The Ground," Or, "When I Was A Boy, Everything Was Right"
The alternate title of this entry is a quote from one of my favorite Beatles songs, "She Said, She Said" from Revolver:
She Said, She Said
"She said, 'I know what it's like to be dead,
I know what it is to be sad.'
And she's making me feel like I've never been born.
I said, 'Who put all those things in your head?
Things that make me feel that I'm mad?
And you're makin' me feel like I've never been born.'
She said, 'You don't understand what I said.'
I said, 'No, no, no, you're wrong:
When I was a boy, everything was right.
Everything was right.'
I said, 'Even though you know what you know,
I know that I'm ready to leave.
'Cause you're makin' me feel like I've never been born.'
She said, 'You don't understand what I said.'
I said, 'No, no, no, you're wrong:
When I was a boy, everything was right.
Everything was right.'
I said, 'Even though you know what you know,
I know that I'm ready to leave.
'Cause you're makin' me feel like I've never been born.'
She said...(she said...)
I know what it's like to be dead...(echo)
I know what it is to be sad (echo)"
[Fade Out]
I told my mom that Shelley and I have been dating since April. She was shocked.
After an awkward 30-minute conversation centering around her inability to recognize that people can change, that she didn't "mind" us dating but couldn't see the two of us together for life - "I just hope you don't bring a child into the heartbreak", her insistence that Shelley never had any reason to fear her, and how she just couldn't understand why I would wait three months to tell her. She also couldn't fathom why I decided to lie to her.
Yeah, gee, I'm at a real loss as to why I would do something like that.
Cue Simpsons clip:
HOMER: "Oh, and by the way, I was BEING sarcastic!"
Can I only reiterate that it was hard keeping it a secret, never mind not an easy decision to come to in the first place?
A friend of mine came over late Saturday/early Sunday to hang out with me, Shelley, and Graham as he had just suffered a panic attack. He was stressed about a ton of other things, but the thought of the possibility for a human to willfully stop their own heart was enough to cause the onset. I thought it was a little strange, but we were there for him and just let him vent and caught up on life.
Now I know exactly how it feels.
I can't describe it, other than that I have a short list of people that I can truly say I hate. I would wish death upon them before this. (ARE YOU READING THIS, BILL O'REILLY?)
Before I could muster up the courage to let it all out on Shelley's shoulder, while we worked on my math homework this morning a song came on that I couldn't help but start weeping, quiet enough that Shelley didn't notice.
The song was "Morphine Song," from the album Working Man's Cafe. I had just received it Saturday from Eric, who delivered it for me...from Dad. The label is in his very distinctive handwriting. It's a combination of things: My dad is the reason I got into The Kinks. He bears some resemblance to Ray Davies. We saw Ray together in March 2006. The lyrics have nothing to do with my situation. But the instrumental backing at 0:55 (it sounds much better on the album, as first an accordion, then a brass section, play it) just got to me.
Proof that sometimes music speaks louder than words, my favorite lyricist, Mr. Ray Davies, performing one of the most touching pieces of music I've ever heard. I couldn't have heard it at a better point in my life. The memory is now inseparable.
It's just as beautiful as anything off of The Village Green Preservation Society.
At least it's off my back, chest, and mind, and out of my system. It's like taking a hearty shit after an equally hearty meal.
Alex
She Said, She Said
"She said, 'I know what it's like to be dead,
I know what it is to be sad.'
And she's making me feel like I've never been born.
I said, 'Who put all those things in your head?
Things that make me feel that I'm mad?
And you're makin' me feel like I've never been born.'
She said, 'You don't understand what I said.'
I said, 'No, no, no, you're wrong:
When I was a boy, everything was right.
Everything was right.'
I said, 'Even though you know what you know,
I know that I'm ready to leave.
'Cause you're makin' me feel like I've never been born.'
She said, 'You don't understand what I said.'
I said, 'No, no, no, you're wrong:
When I was a boy, everything was right.
Everything was right.'
I said, 'Even though you know what you know,
I know that I'm ready to leave.
'Cause you're makin' me feel like I've never been born.'
She said...(she said...)
I know what it's like to be dead...(echo)
I know what it is to be sad (echo)"
[Fade Out]
I told my mom that Shelley and I have been dating since April. She was shocked.
After an awkward 30-minute conversation centering around her inability to recognize that people can change, that she didn't "mind" us dating but couldn't see the two of us together for life - "I just hope you don't bring a child into the heartbreak", her insistence that Shelley never had any reason to fear her, and how she just couldn't understand why I would wait three months to tell her. She also couldn't fathom why I decided to lie to her.
Yeah, gee, I'm at a real loss as to why I would do something like that.
Cue Simpsons clip:
HOMER: "Oh, and by the way, I was BEING sarcastic!"
Can I only reiterate that it was hard keeping it a secret, never mind not an easy decision to come to in the first place?
A friend of mine came over late Saturday/early Sunday to hang out with me, Shelley, and Graham as he had just suffered a panic attack. He was stressed about a ton of other things, but the thought of the possibility for a human to willfully stop their own heart was enough to cause the onset. I thought it was a little strange, but we were there for him and just let him vent and caught up on life.
Now I know exactly how it feels.
I can't describe it, other than that I have a short list of people that I can truly say I hate. I would wish death upon them before this. (ARE YOU READING THIS, BILL O'REILLY?)
Before I could muster up the courage to let it all out on Shelley's shoulder, while we worked on my math homework this morning a song came on that I couldn't help but start weeping, quiet enough that Shelley didn't notice.
The song was "Morphine Song," from the album Working Man's Cafe. I had just received it Saturday from Eric, who delivered it for me...from Dad. The label is in his very distinctive handwriting. It's a combination of things: My dad is the reason I got into The Kinks. He bears some resemblance to Ray Davies. We saw Ray together in March 2006. The lyrics have nothing to do with my situation. But the instrumental backing at 0:55 (it sounds much better on the album, as first an accordion, then a brass section, play it) just got to me.
Proof that sometimes music speaks louder than words, my favorite lyricist, Mr. Ray Davies, performing one of the most touching pieces of music I've ever heard. I couldn't have heard it at a better point in my life. The memory is now inseparable.
It's just as beautiful as anything off of The Village Green Preservation Society.
At least it's off my back, chest, and mind, and out of my system. It's like taking a hearty shit after an equally hearty meal.
Alex
Friday, July 18, 2008
Observations
Mitt Romney is a colossal dick. In spite of running a nasty campaign against Senator McCain earlier this year, every time I see him now on CNN he is bouncing McCain's bone and doing everything BUT say he is ready to be Vice President.
Why? Because John McCain is knocking on death's door. If McCain gets elected, he'll most likely die in office - by the way, did you hear he is just now getting up to speed on how to use the Internet? - and Mr. Romney as Vice President would succeed him. If McCain loses this fall, which I'm just going to go ahead and say this: he will, then Romney has a clear shot in 2012.
Another thing I just saw on the CNN news ticker online is that Jesse Jackson got in trouble when a microphone "accidentally" caught him whispering to a colleague on Fox News that Obama is talking down to black people. Fox has also added to this by saying Rev. Jackson used the n-word - that Obama was "telling n*****s how to behave."
He issued a sincere apology, saying "There is no justification for my comments, and I hope the Obama family and the American people can forgive me." I have yet to see a journalist, commentator, or politician on the other side openly admit guilt and say they are sorry for something. Like the white bitch on Fox who DELIBERATELY confused Obama with Osama - oopsie daisy! - and then said they should both be killed. Her apology was as insincere as something from the Clinton campaign, blowing off her racial hatred as "a poor attempt at humor."
My response to her? Fuck you, get out of the field of journalism, and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.
CNN went on to have a man in the street interview, where one gel-headed Caucasian mused, "I find it funny that they can say it, but we're not supposed to."
Tell you what: once your subdivision of the white race gets abducted, taken across the world, forced to do hard labor for no pay for 150 years, and have your captors come up with a derogatory name for your people, then yeah...you can use a slur against your own people.
Black scholars have again and again come to the defense of the usage of the word to describe not all African-Americans, but a particular subdivision:
Those who meet the description of this fictionalized representation of Dr. King from The Boondocks are the ones Rev. Jackson is speaking about, and the ones Senator Obama is speaking to. As a white man, I'm going to digress from this point and say it applies to my own color, too. One of my dearest friends told me he wasn't going to vote this fall, because (don't laugh) this election "isn't important."
I don't care if you're voting Obama, McCain, Barr, Nader, McKinney, WHOEVER - no election is unimportant. You should understand that even if there isn't anyone running for President, you have people representing you in the House who are up for election every two years, and people in the Senate who are up for election every six. Not to give you a civics lesson, but if you want your voice to be heard, you need to vote - even for your municipal or state legislators.
That's called democracy. And when applied properly, it works.
All you have to do is take at the most an hour of your time out of the day to go to the polls, press some buttons, and then go back to work or school. You can miss an hour of work. You can miss class. As an election day, your employers and/or teachers will understand. And if they don't, report them for unethical behavior.
If you don't vote, don't complain. If you start complaining, and then tell me you didn't vote (and weren't under the age of 18 on election day), I will tell you that I don't want to hear your opinion. Because those of you who don't vote are a bunch of trifling, shiftless, good-for-nothing honkies, to paraphrase the above video.
Alex
Why? Because John McCain is knocking on death's door. If McCain gets elected, he'll most likely die in office - by the way, did you hear he is just now getting up to speed on how to use the Internet? - and Mr. Romney as Vice President would succeed him. If McCain loses this fall, which I'm just going to go ahead and say this: he will, then Romney has a clear shot in 2012.
Another thing I just saw on the CNN news ticker online is that Jesse Jackson got in trouble when a microphone "accidentally" caught him whispering to a colleague on Fox News that Obama is talking down to black people. Fox has also added to this by saying Rev. Jackson used the n-word - that Obama was "telling n*****s how to behave."
He issued a sincere apology, saying "There is no justification for my comments, and I hope the Obama family and the American people can forgive me." I have yet to see a journalist, commentator, or politician on the other side openly admit guilt and say they are sorry for something. Like the white bitch on Fox who DELIBERATELY confused Obama with Osama - oopsie daisy! - and then said they should both be killed. Her apology was as insincere as something from the Clinton campaign, blowing off her racial hatred as "a poor attempt at humor."
My response to her? Fuck you, get out of the field of journalism, and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.
CNN went on to have a man in the street interview, where one gel-headed Caucasian mused, "I find it funny that they can say it, but we're not supposed to."
Tell you what: once your subdivision of the white race gets abducted, taken across the world, forced to do hard labor for no pay for 150 years, and have your captors come up with a derogatory name for your people, then yeah...you can use a slur against your own people.
Black scholars have again and again come to the defense of the usage of the word to describe not all African-Americans, but a particular subdivision:
Those who meet the description of this fictionalized representation of Dr. King from The Boondocks are the ones Rev. Jackson is speaking about, and the ones Senator Obama is speaking to. As a white man, I'm going to digress from this point and say it applies to my own color, too. One of my dearest friends told me he wasn't going to vote this fall, because (don't laugh) this election "isn't important."
I don't care if you're voting Obama, McCain, Barr, Nader, McKinney, WHOEVER - no election is unimportant. You should understand that even if there isn't anyone running for President, you have people representing you in the House who are up for election every two years, and people in the Senate who are up for election every six. Not to give you a civics lesson, but if you want your voice to be heard, you need to vote - even for your municipal or state legislators.
That's called democracy. And when applied properly, it works.
All you have to do is take at the most an hour of your time out of the day to go to the polls, press some buttons, and then go back to work or school. You can miss an hour of work. You can miss class. As an election day, your employers and/or teachers will understand. And if they don't, report them for unethical behavior.
If you don't vote, don't complain. If you start complaining, and then tell me you didn't vote (and weren't under the age of 18 on election day), I will tell you that I don't want to hear your opinion. Because those of you who don't vote are a bunch of trifling, shiftless, good-for-nothing honkies, to paraphrase the above video.
Alex
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