Aisle 11: Canned Meat
Spam. SPAM!!! Spam. (Please re-read those three words and allow a four second pause between each Spam, also please read aloud, thank you, the management)
So why for I bring up the greatest man made meat by product? Is it international spam day? Is it July? Cause that is when Spam Jam is. Yes there is a festival dealing with spam and it's some time (randomly it seems) in July. So... eat spam.
But honestly, spam. I haven't had to eat spam since I was a wee little laddie. Long, long ago my family ate spam. Most of the time it was fried in a pan with pineapple (the pineapple and the spam are natures lovers) I think at one point there was a spam pizza, I could be imagining this though. I most likely am. If memory serves, spam is very salty, yet unmistakingly meat. I have a can of it back at my apartment... I may have to make something spam-like when I get home. Of course this spam is ancient. I bought it back in 2004 for a play, or rather for an audition for a play. It was a little joke. I asked the actors at the first audition if they'd eat spam, some said yes. So when call backs rolled around I brought in a can of spam to freak out the actors. The spam has since moved to three apartments with me. Serving as a decoration in one and an emergency food supply in the other two. When things hit rock bottom at least I'll know I have spam. This is a thought that has managed to keep me from hitting bottom for the past few years.
So why now? Why do I finally crack open that sacred can of potted meat? Why? Because I have nothing else to loose. I'm leaving CT, I'm supposedly going to a great grad program and I have a cute cat. The spam must be eaten. Maybe not tonight, maybe it will be my final meal in CT I know not. But it will be eaten that you can rest assured.
So... any one feel up to eating some spam? It's tasty!
Tuesday, May 16
Wednesday, May 10
Aisle 22
Aisle 22: Travel Size Toiletries.
So... three weeks till I am homeless. Yep... fun fun fun in the sun sun sun with a shot gun gun. Friday I go down to check out a place in the Bronx (I think I'm meeting with a broker which is so not cool) and later that night I'm heading... some where... to check out a place that needs more roommates. Only thing is I've sent out about ten emails in the past 24 hours about apartments and called several others, so I have absolutely no clue how much this one is or where the hell it is located. I know there are more than two people living there and they are fine with having my psycho cat. So, what's the worse that could happen? They could be canibals. Hmm... If I come back to CT with a large bite taken out of my thigh don't ask me how that happened.
So I'm trying to sort out the apartment thing, I still need to find a job/student loans/financial aid/sugar mama, but other than that I'm pretty fine. If I can keep these balls in the air I'll be happy. Everything else? Fuck it. I just want some place to call bed. I have roughly a half month to find a couple of crappy jobs and once I get my deposite back from this apartment I'll be perfectly fine for a while.
Just need to relax. Things will fall into place. If not then I'll deal with whatever happens. I don't get the apartment or I don't get finacial aid, then I'll just figure something else out. I'll go work either in the City or I'll stay in CT and work at some place that's not a library, or I'll apply for a better library job, one that doesn't suck my soul. In the end it will all work out, just I don't know what I will look like when it's over. Fun times ahead!
So... three weeks till I am homeless. Yep... fun fun fun in the sun sun sun with a shot gun gun. Friday I go down to check out a place in the Bronx (I think I'm meeting with a broker which is so not cool) and later that night I'm heading... some where... to check out a place that needs more roommates. Only thing is I've sent out about ten emails in the past 24 hours about apartments and called several others, so I have absolutely no clue how much this one is or where the hell it is located. I know there are more than two people living there and they are fine with having my psycho cat. So, what's the worse that could happen? They could be canibals. Hmm... If I come back to CT with a large bite taken out of my thigh don't ask me how that happened.
So I'm trying to sort out the apartment thing, I still need to find a job/student loans/financial aid/sugar mama, but other than that I'm pretty fine. If I can keep these balls in the air I'll be happy. Everything else? Fuck it. I just want some place to call bed. I have roughly a half month to find a couple of crappy jobs and once I get my deposite back from this apartment I'll be perfectly fine for a while.
Just need to relax. Things will fall into place. If not then I'll deal with whatever happens. I don't get the apartment or I don't get finacial aid, then I'll just figure something else out. I'll go work either in the City or I'll stay in CT and work at some place that's not a library, or I'll apply for a better library job, one that doesn't suck my soul. In the end it will all work out, just I don't know what I will look like when it's over. Fun times ahead!
Saturday, May 6
Aisle 34 and 3/4
| Aisle 34 and 3/4: The Bargin Music Bin | ||
Well my mp3 player is on the fritz. Go fig. Perfectly timed too, I just managed to put on the new Streets album and then poof. It freazes up now and then, mainly when either Regina Spektor or Portishead pops on. Oh well, I'll send it back see if they can fix it or something.
Music tends to drive my life, more so than any of my other pasions. Sure I love film, I love photography and theater, hell I love ancient Egyptology but music is the link that binds them all. I go out to take some pictures I need to have some music playing in my ears to get my eyes set. Right before doing a play I need a combo of high intensity music and smooth booty jams to get me pumped and chilled. When I work on a paper it is imperative that I have the loudest possible music blasting or else the paper will drag and make little sense.
It ends up being a drug to me, music. I use it to pull myself out of a bad mood, or to intensify the bad mood. Also like just about every drug it has its less savory effects on me. Like I said it can intensify an emotion, so if I feel all love lorn and I happen to make the horrible decision to pop in the Cure's "Blood Flowers" (which by all acounts is a pretty bad album yet is a guilty pleasure to me) I'll be in a puddle of my own tears by the halfway point of the second song. There are also the songs that I associate with certain people that are (for one reason or another) no longer part of my life, now these songs can drag up nostalgia, anger, sadness, spitefull glee, it's really all a crap shoot.
When I had a radio show (basically from 2000 to 2005 in one form or another) I was in utter bliss as for two to three (some times more) hours I could construct a sound scape that could pin point a certain theme or mood. It wasn't just playing a couple songs I enjoyed listening to it was playing one song and linking it to the next song as smooth as possible. Some times the steps made no sense right away but when you listened to the whole show it would make perfect sense. How could I not play Kriss Kross after the Presidents of the United States? It just had to happen.
Currently I've got a rather sad song on by the Streets, called "Never Went to Church." It's off of the latest (It's hard to make an easy living). It's slow, remorseful and about the death of Mike's father. Like I said it's a sad song. However, it doesn't bring up thoughts of my Dad, rather it brings up thoughts of some one else (remaining nameless because why bother?). It's a kind of gental let down song, that while it is sad it has some bright moments to it. In the end Mike's spirits get lifted up a bit and for the most part I think my whole mucky feeling I've been having this past week has slowly disapated. I know there is nothing I can currently do to set things in my favor but such is life. You just have to keep going and find ways to be happy. Ok so as I wrote that another Streets song came on, "Stay Positive" had to skip that track so Fantmos' version of the theme from Night of the Hunter has replaced it, thankfully.
I'm off tonight to see the ever amusing Porto play in New York City. Going with two friends so it should be a gasser. It'll be a long ass night though and a long ass train ride home. Trains not my friend right now. Kind of tired of them, but they are a necesity I guess.
Still soon things will be changing rather quickly, who knows what it will be like next month.
Tuesday, May 2
Aisle 8
Aisle 8: Candy Aisle
Nothing tastes as bitter as losing out on something potentially good and then forcing yourself to be ok about it. It's like reaching for an atomic fireball and grabbing a warhead and trying to readjust to the taste when what you should do is just spit the goddamn thing out of your mouth. I've reached that point in life I think.
I'm sitting here at my night library job wanting to go home. I want to go home and sleep. I know if I was home I wouldn't be able to sleep, I'd probably would put in my roommates copy of the new Tomb Raider and drown Laura Croft for a while (this is fully lifted from one of the best comedy shows that was on tv, Spaced, made by the crew that did Shawn of the Dead, Simon Peg I totally feel you right now mate). I'm at that black stage where you want to be over some one but at the same time you want things to go right back the way they were just a few weeks ago. It's rough. I'm not going to put down here every single detail of the whole evente as well you all really don't need and/or want to know. I did go over the whole thing last night though with some friends. Now when I told one friend (not out with us last night, but rather this was a few days earlier) she was more pissed than I was. She actually yelled at me when I mentioned that I might be able to salvage something. Last night though I wasn't yelled at... too much. Oh I was questioned why I was even upset, but it wasn't in a mean spirited way. Though I never really answered that question, it kind of got sucked up into something else.
Why am I upset? I mean was I in an actual relationship? Not really. It was all very loose and non-commital, but it was nice. It was nice to have some one I liked actually like me back on pretty much equal terms. It's been a long time since that's happened. So what went wrong? How did it all go to pot? I'm not sure really. Just bad luck. I normally would be blaming myself right now, only I know it wasn't me, or if it was than it's good it didn't work out. I decided, at the very start of the whole thing, that I was just going to be myself. I wasn't going to try to be cool or hip. I wasn't inventing any outlandish stories, or hiding any odd quirks that would normally scare people away, in fact I went so far as to TRY to scare the girl. I was currious as to how me I could be around her so I let her have the whole awkwardly weird me, that some of you rarely see from time to time. She didn't seem too put off. Now if she was and was just being polite then well it's obvious it would have never worked as what she was getting was me with the barest minimum of protective masks put on. I think the only thing I kept back was my romantic side, which normally you'd so toss in there, and I was going to eventually, but I didn't want to come off as just another smooth talker. Hence the awkwardness.
So yeah I guess I'm upset about the whole thing because it was the first time I tried being myself and failed. I lost out to another guy. I'm soon to be bumped permanently into the "friend" position that is basically hell for nice guys like me. Some see being a "friend" as pergatory, you might be able to drag yourself out of there and slip into the heaven that is friend with bennefits (like health care only more eyebrow raisingly better). However, if you are a nice guy, "friend" equals hell. Because you want to be nice, you think that by being nice you'll get the girl to change her mind, when in reality she starts to depend on your niceness to the point that she is too afraid to date you because what would happen if you broke up? Nice guy go bye-bye.
There are a plethora of monologues in theater that deal with this topic. There are songs that deal with this as well. Movies deal with this but in a different way. They have the nice guy win (most of the time). Why do they do that?!? I mean it gives us hope that one day the scrawny, intelligent, nice guy is actually going to win the girl from the big lout. I have yet to see this happen in real life. I've tried it many a time. I've butted heads on the romantic field many a time trying to win a girl over. I made mix tapes that would cause people to cream their pants, I set up romantic evenings, I went to great lengths to be there for them when their current or ex boy caused them grief. I made them laugh, I made them blush, I told them great stories and great poetic... thingies, hell I once called this girl up while she was working at a job she cried about and played Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" over the phone for her. She broke down crying, it was the sweetest thing any one's ever done for her, she thought the world of me, but she couldn't go out with me that night as she already had a date with this other guy, who consitantly chose video games over walking her home at midnight, through the dirty streets of Willimantic. Nothing works. I am cursed.
Am I giving up then? No. I know some where out there beneath the cold moon light, some one's thinking of me and missing me... sorry. Fival moment. But seriously some where out there, beneath the cold moon light, there has to be some one who would pick me as a boyfriend. Some one that I would pick as a girlfriend too. Like I would prefer that we both would pick each other, it would be nice. I'm tired of being the second fiddle all the time. I'm also tired of dating people who like to cheat on me. That's never fun. Gah I have horrible luck/choice in women! And for all that I complain about it I refuse to capitulate and act the way most people act in order to get a girl. Meaning I'm not about to act like some fake movie character played by John Cusack, from this point on I'm doing the whole dating thing on my terms. If the person doesn't want to date me it will be because she dosen't like who I am as a person. If this is the case than why would I want to date them? Exactly. Bitterness be gone! I'd do it with this current girl only, well I really dug her, which is the fucking worst part of all this.
I'm pretty sure if I broke out my Cure albums tonight I'd be in a horrid state. Gothieness woudl be right back upon me and with that would follow the bad poetry and with that... I shudder to think. So tonight I'll listen to the Streets, or I'll listen to some Primus, possibly some Gogol Bordello. Note I am also staying away from emo. Why? Because I'm not fucking emo!! I may complain and I may get the mean reds from time to time but I am not a tight shirt wearing, Buddy Holly glasses toting, whiny cry baby, who likes to pretend he's tough by singing about how violently his heart was ripped out of his chest by girl-x. I hate the emos. I tolerate the hipsters as they are really just grown up emos (it's true, look at yourself, you're in your late twenties and you try to pull off the post-teenage college guy look, get an interesting hair cut!).
So what, pray tell am I? Well, I am a bitter, sardonic bastard. Everyone get's depressed from time to time. Everyone has the right to complain about it, that is how you get things off your chest and you feel better. To bottle it all up means to surpress your emotions, and if you do that long enough you will explode on some helpless person behind a cashregister. So I complain. I also find humor in my problems. I mean if my life was a movie it would be hillarious, in a kind of dark sense. Our hero trudges along, finds some good things and then poof good things get taken away and he falls on a banana peal (not slips but falls). Do this to the guy enough and you have a comedy, do it too much (i.e. if this happens one more time) than you have a perfect example of the human condition told only the way the existentialists and absurdists would have it shown.
So what's my plan. What am I going to do next? I am... going to do fuck all actually. I'm not looking for another person, I'm not fighting for the girl, I'm just going to get my shite together move to New York and go to school. If something happens as I'm doing that then fan-fucking-tastic, if not then, well business as usual I guess.
I am pissed, not at the girl's choice (despite the fact that I think it's the wrong choice, then again I'm biased) but at the fact that I let this happen again. I'm so tired of this. I'm half expecting the next girl to follow suit actually (currently there is no next girl but I'm sure eventually one will pop up).
Yeah, like I've said this entire blog, uncensored (to a point, as there are things I really don't feel like telling you all). Sorry if I offended any of the readers. I seriously doubt anyone reading this would get offended, I mean if the girl reads this than I can understand that, if her boyfriend happens to read it over her shoulder than I understand him getting pissed and you know what fuck him, let him get pissed. But if the girl does read this and is upset by anything I've written, it was not my intent. I'll appologise but I will not recant. Note I did not give the girl's name out, though a couple of you know who I'm talkng about as her name must have flown out of my mouth more times than any of us would have liked over the past few months. If, and this is a big if as I know maybe two and a half people read this, you do feel like commenting, let's not invoke her name, she's a good person and I'd hate to tarnish her in the eyes of people who don't know that I'm talking about her. Make sense? No? Well tough titty. Also if you are single (and I stress single to the point of no return) and female (sorry no offence just it's what I dig) and you enjoy this blog and the persona that it paints in your mind (ha!) then hi there, my name is Carl. How you doin'? Want to go out for ice cream and mini-golf?
The End
dun-da-dun-dun.... DUUUUUNNNN!!!!
Nothing tastes as bitter as losing out on something potentially good and then forcing yourself to be ok about it. It's like reaching for an atomic fireball and grabbing a warhead and trying to readjust to the taste when what you should do is just spit the goddamn thing out of your mouth. I've reached that point in life I think.
I'm sitting here at my night library job wanting to go home. I want to go home and sleep. I know if I was home I wouldn't be able to sleep, I'd probably would put in my roommates copy of the new Tomb Raider and drown Laura Croft for a while (this is fully lifted from one of the best comedy shows that was on tv, Spaced, made by the crew that did Shawn of the Dead, Simon Peg I totally feel you right now mate). I'm at that black stage where you want to be over some one but at the same time you want things to go right back the way they were just a few weeks ago. It's rough. I'm not going to put down here every single detail of the whole evente as well you all really don't need and/or want to know. I did go over the whole thing last night though with some friends. Now when I told one friend (not out with us last night, but rather this was a few days earlier) she was more pissed than I was. She actually yelled at me when I mentioned that I might be able to salvage something. Last night though I wasn't yelled at... too much. Oh I was questioned why I was even upset, but it wasn't in a mean spirited way. Though I never really answered that question, it kind of got sucked up into something else.
Why am I upset? I mean was I in an actual relationship? Not really. It was all very loose and non-commital, but it was nice. It was nice to have some one I liked actually like me back on pretty much equal terms. It's been a long time since that's happened. So what went wrong? How did it all go to pot? I'm not sure really. Just bad luck. I normally would be blaming myself right now, only I know it wasn't me, or if it was than it's good it didn't work out. I decided, at the very start of the whole thing, that I was just going to be myself. I wasn't going to try to be cool or hip. I wasn't inventing any outlandish stories, or hiding any odd quirks that would normally scare people away, in fact I went so far as to TRY to scare the girl. I was currious as to how me I could be around her so I let her have the whole awkwardly weird me, that some of you rarely see from time to time. She didn't seem too put off. Now if she was and was just being polite then well it's obvious it would have never worked as what she was getting was me with the barest minimum of protective masks put on. I think the only thing I kept back was my romantic side, which normally you'd so toss in there, and I was going to eventually, but I didn't want to come off as just another smooth talker. Hence the awkwardness.
So yeah I guess I'm upset about the whole thing because it was the first time I tried being myself and failed. I lost out to another guy. I'm soon to be bumped permanently into the "friend" position that is basically hell for nice guys like me. Some see being a "friend" as pergatory, you might be able to drag yourself out of there and slip into the heaven that is friend with bennefits (like health care only more eyebrow raisingly better). However, if you are a nice guy, "friend" equals hell. Because you want to be nice, you think that by being nice you'll get the girl to change her mind, when in reality she starts to depend on your niceness to the point that she is too afraid to date you because what would happen if you broke up? Nice guy go bye-bye.
There are a plethora of monologues in theater that deal with this topic. There are songs that deal with this as well. Movies deal with this but in a different way. They have the nice guy win (most of the time). Why do they do that?!? I mean it gives us hope that one day the scrawny, intelligent, nice guy is actually going to win the girl from the big lout. I have yet to see this happen in real life. I've tried it many a time. I've butted heads on the romantic field many a time trying to win a girl over. I made mix tapes that would cause people to cream their pants, I set up romantic evenings, I went to great lengths to be there for them when their current or ex boy caused them grief. I made them laugh, I made them blush, I told them great stories and great poetic... thingies, hell I once called this girl up while she was working at a job she cried about and played Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" over the phone for her. She broke down crying, it was the sweetest thing any one's ever done for her, she thought the world of me, but she couldn't go out with me that night as she already had a date with this other guy, who consitantly chose video games over walking her home at midnight, through the dirty streets of Willimantic. Nothing works. I am cursed.
Am I giving up then? No. I know some where out there beneath the cold moon light, some one's thinking of me and missing me... sorry. Fival moment. But seriously some where out there, beneath the cold moon light, there has to be some one who would pick me as a boyfriend. Some one that I would pick as a girlfriend too. Like I would prefer that we both would pick each other, it would be nice. I'm tired of being the second fiddle all the time. I'm also tired of dating people who like to cheat on me. That's never fun. Gah I have horrible luck/choice in women! And for all that I complain about it I refuse to capitulate and act the way most people act in order to get a girl. Meaning I'm not about to act like some fake movie character played by John Cusack, from this point on I'm doing the whole dating thing on my terms. If the person doesn't want to date me it will be because she dosen't like who I am as a person. If this is the case than why would I want to date them? Exactly. Bitterness be gone! I'd do it with this current girl only, well I really dug her, which is the fucking worst part of all this.
I'm pretty sure if I broke out my Cure albums tonight I'd be in a horrid state. Gothieness woudl be right back upon me and with that would follow the bad poetry and with that... I shudder to think. So tonight I'll listen to the Streets, or I'll listen to some Primus, possibly some Gogol Bordello. Note I am also staying away from emo. Why? Because I'm not fucking emo!! I may complain and I may get the mean reds from time to time but I am not a tight shirt wearing, Buddy Holly glasses toting, whiny cry baby, who likes to pretend he's tough by singing about how violently his heart was ripped out of his chest by girl-x. I hate the emos. I tolerate the hipsters as they are really just grown up emos (it's true, look at yourself, you're in your late twenties and you try to pull off the post-teenage college guy look, get an interesting hair cut!).
So what, pray tell am I? Well, I am a bitter, sardonic bastard. Everyone get's depressed from time to time. Everyone has the right to complain about it, that is how you get things off your chest and you feel better. To bottle it all up means to surpress your emotions, and if you do that long enough you will explode on some helpless person behind a cashregister. So I complain. I also find humor in my problems. I mean if my life was a movie it would be hillarious, in a kind of dark sense. Our hero trudges along, finds some good things and then poof good things get taken away and he falls on a banana peal (not slips but falls). Do this to the guy enough and you have a comedy, do it too much (i.e. if this happens one more time) than you have a perfect example of the human condition told only the way the existentialists and absurdists would have it shown.
So what's my plan. What am I going to do next? I am... going to do fuck all actually. I'm not looking for another person, I'm not fighting for the girl, I'm just going to get my shite together move to New York and go to school. If something happens as I'm doing that then fan-fucking-tastic, if not then, well business as usual I guess.
I am pissed, not at the girl's choice (despite the fact that I think it's the wrong choice, then again I'm biased) but at the fact that I let this happen again. I'm so tired of this. I'm half expecting the next girl to follow suit actually (currently there is no next girl but I'm sure eventually one will pop up).
Yeah, like I've said this entire blog, uncensored (to a point, as there are things I really don't feel like telling you all). Sorry if I offended any of the readers. I seriously doubt anyone reading this would get offended, I mean if the girl reads this than I can understand that, if her boyfriend happens to read it over her shoulder than I understand him getting pissed and you know what fuck him, let him get pissed. But if the girl does read this and is upset by anything I've written, it was not my intent. I'll appologise but I will not recant. Note I did not give the girl's name out, though a couple of you know who I'm talkng about as her name must have flown out of my mouth more times than any of us would have liked over the past few months. If, and this is a big if as I know maybe two and a half people read this, you do feel like commenting, let's not invoke her name, she's a good person and I'd hate to tarnish her in the eyes of people who don't know that I'm talking about her. Make sense? No? Well tough titty. Also if you are single (and I stress single to the point of no return) and female (sorry no offence just it's what I dig) and you enjoy this blog and the persona that it paints in your mind (ha!) then hi there, my name is Carl. How you doin'? Want to go out for ice cream and mini-golf?
The End
dun-da-dun-dun.... DUUUUUNNNN!!!!
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