Thursday, November 29, 2007

Ode to That Bird














Hey
Hey bird in my backyard
Don't land sideways on the back wall there.
On the rough brick
And stucco wall.
Don't.
Only lizards do that
And spiders
Not birds.
Hey bird
How do you think it makes me feel
Huh?
How do you think I feel
Seeing a bird all sideways
Like that
Not flying sideways
Like in the process of doing a barrel roll
(which, bird, would be cool)
But just chilling
Kicking it on my wall
Sideways.
How do you think I feel
When for a
brief
horrifying
moment
I think
there's a tarantula
on the wall
And begin compiling the
quickest
possible
strategy
for moving out?
How about gravity bird?
How about velcro feet?
Are there not enough trees for you
Around here?
Are there not enough
roofs
cacti
power lines
Around here?
Bird
Is there not enough top of the wall
Around here?
Hey bird
Bird.
Birds don't do that.

God damn it bird






Bonus question: Am I waking up, or going to sleep?

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

How to Make Monday Seem Like it Never Happened

  • Stay up really late on Sunday, into the morning hours, playing video games and messing around with the internet. Waste as much time as possible. Go to sleep around seven or eight in the morning.

  • Since you have the day off, you don't have to wake up at any specified time. That being the case, let your body get itself out of bed around four-thirty in the afternoon. Rest is essential for a productive day, whether it actually happened or not.

  • Take a leisurely shower. Wash your too-long hair, shave around your beard, even try to tidy up in there. Take as much time as you need. Time spent in the bathroom doesn't count, as can be evidenced by the time you spend there while at work. Once you come out, time has magically advanced (usually by an hour or two if you play it right) and you haven't had to do any work at all.

  • Get offered some spaghetti by your housemate, who is preparing a pot to boil in the kitchen, just within shouting distance. Explain that you were thinking about going to this steakhouse/blues bar for dinner. Listen to the sounds of your housemate pouring out the unboiled water from the pot and getting ready to go with you.

  • Offer to drive.

  • Meet up with some other friends you were going to go out with later at the bar. They have already been there a few hours and have already drunk quite a bit, as they had stuff to "talk about." Realize that, as the night progresses, they are going to be no help at all to your inhibitions. Realize it is all on you.

  • Order a filet mignon, black and blue. Get the soup, not the salad. Get the au gratin potatoes, not mashed. Get a pint of Blue Moon with an orange garnish to drink.

  • Within two hours of waking, begin the steady crawl to inebriation.

  • Have an Irish root beer, since everyone else is having one. Ask if they have any Sam Adams Octoberfest left and, when they do, get a pint. Finish your meal. Have another Irish root beer, since everyone else is having one. Have a Booker's on the rocks.

  • Step outside to have a cigar. Sit down on a bench. Let the alcohol take hold.

  • Reel. Sway. Assure people your are fine. When the street clears out a bit, stand up and vomit into a planter. Slam yourself back down on the bench, noisily banging into the bar's front window. Tell your friend you're still fine when comes out to check on you and asks, jokingly, "How's the steak?" Don't give him the satisfaction.

  • Finish your cigar. Throw the butt into the planter.

  • Walk back inside and head to the bathroom. Use the stall. After a while, try to vomit again, but don't. Realize how clean the floor looks. Realize how comfortable the floor looks.

  • Lie down for about twenty minutes.

  • Get woken up by the same friend calling your name from the other side of the door. Assure him everything is fine. Walk with him outside to get some air.

  • Allow him to walk you to your car. Allow him to take your keys. Allow him to walk away. When you open up the door to vomit again and the alarm goes off, call him with your cell phone and allow him to come back to turn it off.

  • Recline the seat. At some point, vomit successfully but not much from the open driver's side door.

  • Fall asleep.

  • Wake up a few hours later, fine. Call your housemate who is still in the bar and says he will be done in five or ten minutes. Freezing, wrap yourself backwards in your jacket. Go back to sleep.

  • Get woken up by housemate rapping at the window with keys. Be thankful he got into the passenger side so he wouldn't see the vomit. Drive home, conversing amiably.

  • Arrive home. Get inside. Get into your room. Get into bed. Mess around with the internet. Go to sleep.

  • Wake up at around three o'clock Tuesday morning.

  • Wonder what the hell happened to yesterday.



All in all, not a bad way to spend a day.

Friday, November 09, 2007

You Busy Little Bee

So after completely missing a month over the summer, I was really worried about missing another whole month without updating this here ol' thing. I wanted to make sure that, even if it was only a placeholder, I put something up here in September, just so I wouldn't have another temporal hole in my archive.

And then it was November.

To be fair, I am a very busy man, and haven't found the time to do anything lately that I'd like to. Why is this?

I'm so glad you asked.



July was fun. I spent my birthday in an airplane over the Atlantic traveling to Greece for my cousin's wedding. I love that country. Every time I've been there I've had the best time. My Greek relatives are the friendliest people I've ever met, and I've only met them twice in my lifetime, the last being seven years ago. My Uncle Ari acts as if no time has passed, as if he sees my every week, as if I were his favorite son. One of those people that can make anyone feel special, I guess.

The time spent in the little mountain town of Kalavrita was fantastic. It's something akin to the Big Bear of Greece. Not too populated (especially in summer) and not too touristy, but civilized enough that a group of xenos can survive well enough out of their element. I saw the Corinth Canal, the monument to the Kalavritan Holocaust, and any number of cypress trees. I made intimate friends with several yellowjackets, and spent most of the time either immensely enjoying the company of my family or of the blond American bimbo I'd brought with me. Like. A. Minx.

On the day we were flying back, our plane was delayed for four hours, so we went to the Acropolis in Athens and walked around in the market for a bit. I bought sneakers, which I now affectionately refer to as my greekers and which have become, like, my main shoe, as they are slip-ons and require no tying.

Because of the delay, we did not make our connection in Philadelphia in time, and were therefore given a suite for the night and a flight the next day, which we waited for by seeing one of the original publications of the constitution, Ben Franklin's grave, the Liberty Bell, and a bunch of other extremely American things. Some people get upset about delayed flights and missed connections. I think, "extra vacation.

I've been working really hard at the ol' Times over the last few months, and have managed to excel despite the singularly difficult job before me. What initially interested me about the job, other than the obvious, was the fact that it didn't come naturally to be. It was strange to find something that I was not immediately good at. Still, after over a year of employment, I am avidly learning and each day is a challenge and a lesson. For a learner like me, it's fantastic, and I'm developing greatly under its temperance. As of now, I do basically all the fights in the show, I ride stallions and can even do a bit of ghost-riding the horse if pressed. I'm the best new rider they have, and I'm extremely proud.



In addition, I continue to make friends with the people around me. We've changed Best Buddies Night to Poker Night, and now my different factions of friends that work there have begun to come together to form one super-group. Interesting, when one thinks about how much some of those guys can't stand each other. It's a great time.

In September, I began to lock down what has been perhaps the biggest change in my life over the last few months, and by the end of the month I had moved out and was now renting a room in a friend of mine's house for practically nothing and thoroughly enjoying it. My favorite things about my new place are as follows:
  • New Mattress - For space conservation, I bought a twin bed to replace my queen, and with it came a new mattress from IKEA. I do not think I have ever known comfort until now.
  • Wall-Mounted Television - My dad winning the raffle at a golf tournament twice and not needing the second prize since he already had the first was awesome enough, but once I had taken that little television, placed it in my little room, and securely fastened it on a pivoting arm to my wall I had achieved some divine transcendence I can't accurately describe. I watch movies in bed all the time now without struggling for a comfortable resting position. The screen merely floats above my head, and then returns to the wall when I no longer need it. It's heaven.
  • Independence - I do not wake up every morning to find a note from my father asking me to do something anymore. I work for me, and me alone!
  • Privacy - I lock my door. No one bothers me. Fantastic.




This new space, and the fact that my landlord is a great friend of mine, comes new opportunities for established standards. With October came the sixth annual Sundown Film Festival which, for both those reasons, was the largest that we've had yet. Not as complex or as involved as last year's, what with everything else going on around it, but definitely the biggest and probably the most fun we'd had yet. I was mot excited about designing the graphics for the invitation, which I think came out really well.

That Wednesday, Halloween, I wore my costume out on the town and, at the first annual Stubricks's Costume Contest, won first place and a hundred dollars.

We're putting in a new show at the Times on the 15th, and have therefore been working a ton lately to get it prepared, not to mention saying goodbye to the old show. We've been clocking in at 8 am, taking an hour for lunch around one or two, then practicing the new show, doing our current one, then clocking out around 9:30.

Every day.

Most of us are pretty burned out, but the new show's looking pretty good. In the meantime, I have to watch film for Newport, which is coming up in April and for which, therefore, the crunch has already begun. Already I'm drastically behind on my watching schedule, but I don't really answer to anyone about it, just my own sense of guilt.

So I took time out of my bedraggled, depleted, and frenetic day to bring you people up to speed with my life. There. Are you happy?

I am.

You're the only one that understands me, Chirp-Chirp.