So, as I said, I'm not going to make this blog a heap of psychotic drama again. At the same time, I can't NOT talk about the recent dissolution of my relationship with Melinda. Consequently...

According to her official statement, this is over because she's not as ready as she thought to be in a serious relationship. And this is true. Judging by her actions, she's definitely not ready. Unfortunately, that reason doesn't hold up because the last two months of our relationship have been anything BUT serious. Furthermore, I wasn't trying to pursue anything especially serious. Moot point, but it needs to be said.

She also said that it wasn't "fair" to me to keep the relationship going. True, it's not fair. But you know what else is not fair? Having it end and not sure why it had to end the way it did, despite reasons given. If I'm anything now (besides sad, which is a given at the end of any loving relationship), it's confused. More than anything, I'd like to talk face to face, get everything out in the open, and know definitively that the outcome at which we arrived was the correct one.

I'd like to clarify before I go further that I harbor absolutely no ill-will toward Melinda. Over the course of the last nine months, I have grown fonder and fonder of her every day, and one disappointing ending isn't going to wipe that away all at once. What I said before is still true: she is beautiful, selfless, kind, generous, and one of the most genuinely good people I've had the pleasure of meeting. And while that might sound like pedestal worship, it is absolutely not. I have nothing (okay, maybe not nothing) but good things to say about her.

That said, she is not without her flaws. And while it is a bit tempting to run those down now, I won't. I will say only this: that I wish she were less guarded with her thoughts and emotions, and that I wish she were more assertive/confrontational. If there is one thing that I find to be terribly depressing about the end of our relationship is that I think it could have been possibly prevented if she just once spoke her mind about what was bothering her (especially as it concerned me and our relationship and its alleged intensity), instead of letting things pile up until it came to a head and ultimately leading to our romantic demise. It's a sad irony that a woman who preached open communication could not walk the walk.

Anyway, it's over. Forever? Probably, but I can't say that with any authority. Will we maintain a friendly relationship? Again, probably, but at the moment, it's a tough task for sure. Despite my even keel here, I am very hurt. Hard not to be when you lose someone so close to your heart.

So, I took the Emode Original Inkblot Test. Here are my results.

"Damian, your subconscious mind is driven most by Love.

"Your instinct to love and be loved is rooted very deeply in your subconscious and affects most of the decisions you make in life � whether you are aware of it or not.

"You inspire people to experience their true feelings of love and act kindly towards others. You also value your personal relationships more than most people.

"Your unique capacity to love may be greater than those around you, which means you may have more to give in relationships than your friends or romantic partners do.

"Your psyche is very rich; the more you learn about it, the more you will understand who you really are."

This is what we call an eerie coincidence. Why? Because my girlfriend broke up with me tonight, and one of the things she mentioned was that she felt that I was more into the relationship than she was.

Spot on, that. And she did it all without the aid of psychological tests.

I'd like to say more about this, but I refuse to pollute my blog again with more drama. I'd like to think I'm in a better mental state to deal with this kind of thing than I have been in the past.

Time will tell...

Carl takes on Thom Yorke. Will the world ever be the same?

(That's some solid analysis, Carl. You're a credit to your name. Your wife is more of--I almost said "bigger" but that might have been miscontrued as innuendo--a credit, though.)

And lastly: '72 Dolphins from here on out! Excelsior!

BAM!

My friend Liz sent this link to me. I'm still laughing. This is, without question, the most seamless meeting of porn culture and food culture I've ever seen. Even better than that movie with the girl and the cucumber...

Thanks, Liz.

Triumph The Insult Comic Dog

I've always been a big fan of Triumph, and was surprised to see that he had an album coming out (via Pitchfork). I may pick it up, especially if it's on par with "Underage Bichon." (As seen on TV Funhouse and Late Night with Conan O'Brien.)

I really wish they'd collect all the Triumph bits and put them onto a DVD. The bit where he's making fun of the people in line for Attack of the Clones would be worth the price of admission alone.

So, I just got home, and I see my friend Carl has put up an account of our/his day. Allow me to give you some of my observations.

First, let me get this out of my sexist, reductive system now: the girls at the con had some, to quote Tron from The Chappelle Show, "big ol' tittays." Not all of them, of course, but I was surprised by the number of fine racks at the Small Press Expo. Okay, now that I've been a piggish, Man Show stereotype, let me continue to the other stuff.

I've only been to one con before, and that was the SPX a few years ago ('99, I think). Despite all of the stereotypes (and there were a number who fit them to a T), I really don't think the geek quotient is particularly higher than your typical, say, indie rock show. Maybe it's because they're both "indie" in nature, but there weren't a lot of Comic Book Guy-types. Maybe those types are at the bigger cons, where the superhero comics are representin' and the collector/obsessive types are in full effect. Anyway, this year was fun. Did the walkaround of each room twice or thrice, picked up a bunch of stuff, saw (though did not speak to them...because there was always a fanboy there, and I'm not enough of a hardcore fanboy to actually wait to talk to people) Evan Dorkin and Sarah Dyer, to whom I gave some dough for a couple of comics (Dork #9 and Action Girl #19). I also bought The Bizmar Experiment and The Return of Bizmar (from Young American Comics), a couple of Fillerbunny comics (from Slave Labor Graphics), The Silent Pulse, Book One (from Bearded Baby Comics), Fred the Clown, Number 1-4 (from Hotel Fred Press), and a handful of free comics. A good haul to be sure.

After that, Carl and I had lunch at Outback Steakhouse, my last meal of the day, and I'm still full from it some 10 hours later. But bacon tastes good, don'tcha know.

We also hit up Olsson's (in search of music, which Carl eventually got) and Big Planet Comics to get some non-indy stuff (once again, was very tempted to pick up some porn comics, but refrained), but wound up buying nothing there, either.

Came home, then went right back out to see Melinda. We took a moonlit walk (cut short when we realized she was illegally parked--no parking after sunset? what kind of shit is that?), went home and futzed with our cell phones (she got a new one), then watched the stirring 4th quarter of the Florida/Miami game. (Go 'Canes!) Had a great time, and wish I could have stayed the night, but with me going over to Jamie and Jarod's tomorrow for football, it's probably best for me to be here.

So, left there, and on the walk from the Metro to my house, two things occured: passed a hot--like, legitimately hot, not trashy hot--hooker and ran into a former co-worker, who is now working at the Madison Hotel.

And that's really about it. I didn't catch the DJ Spooky/Re-Birth of a Nation thing, obviously.

Now I shall retire to boudoir (or will soon) to get my sleep on. First Sunday of the NFL season is here! Go Dolphins!

Clown hat, curly hair, smiley face,
Damian

Re-Birth of a Nation - I read about this a while back and thought it was cool. Good to see it's going to be in my neck of the woods. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if I'm going to make it there or not. At the moment, I will be going to the Small Press Expo that afternoon, possibly with my friend, Carl. Depending on what time we get there (if he goes) and what we plan after, I may not be able to make this. Also, if Melinda isn't in hibernation (the poor thing is being ground to a pulp by an unrelenting work schedule), we may do something that evening. I may be able to talk her into this, though, I think she'd rather do something low-key.

Also, may be going to see Mogwai at the 9:30 next week. I haven't seen them in quite some time (probably right after Come On Die Young came out), so it would be nice to see them again. They're an excellent (and uber-loud) show.

Football season started tonight (yay!). As I type this, the 'Skins are beating the Jets (double-yay! Fuck you, Jets!). Of course, the real fun in the football season is hanging out with the boys and talking mountains of smack, particular as we watch our Fantasy Football (glayven!) hopes unfold for that week. I hereby declare that I will win it all this season, and use the money to take a much needed vacation. Shit, for the amount of the prize money, Hawaii may even be an option.

And speaking of football and winning it all: it's the Dolphins year, baby! Belie' dat!

(Did I just jinx them?)

A Fine How-Do-You-Do ..... now with Carl O.

This is my friend Carl's blog, established today. I heartily endorse this blog, as Carl is, as they say in the vernacular, "one funny motherfucker." He's also far smarter than I, so you may even learn something from the experience. Here, all you get is the kind of low-brow nonsense that makes People magazine look like The New Yorker. There, well, you get People magazine.

The choice is yours.

So, wow...what a week (or so). As you can see in the last post, I've started a new blog dedicated to brushing up my writing skills while I review records from my cd collection. It's a combination of two of my loves: shameless self-promotion and sanctimonious claptrap. But I digress...

Other things of note: had a bit of meltdown in my relationship with Melinda this past weekend. It was a long-time coming, I think, since we had (at the time) seen each other once in the span of a month. It wasn't a noisy, screaming, angry meltdown; just an unleashing of emotions that had been bottled up, conversations that had gone unspoken. Things are better now. I'm hoping this will lead to a better relationship, but only time will tell on that one. I do know that my feelings for her have not changed; as a matter of fact, they may be even stronger.

Nothing more to mention, really, except that an ex-girlfriend of mine popped up out of nowhere, signing the guestbook at my other website. She left no contact information (last we spoke, we were on good terms; we just kinda drifted apart), so I have no way to find out how things are going. Needless to say, it was very weird to see, and my curiosity is piqued. But if she wants to talk, she can follow the e-mail link on my site. That's what it's there for.

Nothing else to speak of, really. Just checking in. Ciao!

Check this out. Thank you.

Mostly Weird: I came across this site when I was looking for information on Japanese noise gods Fushitsusha. Naturally, I read through the site because the music being listed under "Today's CDs" were all quality. Reading through the archives, it finally hit me that it was Phil Freeman's blog, whose wonderful New York Is Now I just read last year. Freeman's writing is terrific, even if I've come across a few entries I don't really agree with. For those looking to expand their horizons, particularly in complex, noisy directions, this is a great place to start. His entries are well written (unlike the schock you're taking in here) and make me want to check out the music he covers (much the same way his book did). Plus, as it turns out, the man is a porno writer to boot! You gotta love that!

Okay, so here�s a little exercise in perspective, something I think I�m sorely in need of�

What�s bad about my life:

My job sucks. Not in the typical, �my boss is insane and there�s not enough time to get anything done� sense, but in the �this job is so far from what I know I should be doing that every day I spend here is close to psychic death.� No mere occupational bitching, this.

My credit sucks. This is a self-inflicted wound, but one that is having serious ramifications on pretty much everything else that is bad about my life.

I don�t have the tools to perform the work I know I�m capable of doing. See, one of the major downfalls of bad credit is not being able to buy a workstation that I can start building my portfolio upon, and possibly even doing freelance work.

My apartment sucks. It�s too small for what I have, and frankly, I�ve been living there too long.

That�s it.

Now, here�s what is good about my life:

I have a job. I may not like my job, but at least I�m employed. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands, in this city that are not. And if you add to that the number of people who are but still living at the poverty line or below, I should consider my relatively pampered ass lucky.

I have a place to call home. It may be small, it may be dirty, and it may be in need of some serious repairs, but it�s a home, bug free, and with everything (and more) that I could possibly need to survive and amuse myself. Again, walking around this city and seeing what I�ve seen (and I haven�t even been to the �bad� neighborhoods), I�m very lucky to have a place inside the city that I can afford.

I have a wonderful family. Considering the amount of dysfunction that I�ve come from, I�m amazed that my family remains as close as they are. My mother and sisters are a blessing, and my father, while we�re not as close, is still a good father and will always be the incomparable �Big Lou.�

I have the cutest niece and nephew in the world Yes, this should fall under the preceding, but I think these two deserve special mention. Not that I love them more than the rest of my family, but they are just so adorable, and what�s more, adoring. I feel a million times better about my life when I�ve been in their company.

I have amazing friends. It�s true! My friends have always been supportive and have given me nothing but good times and fond memories. What�s more, they make me feel good about myself. Hard to find one friend like that, let alone several.

I have an imagination. This may not seem like much, but I take pride in the fact that my worldview is a bit more askew than most people�s. I�m not insane, but I think I have a wonderful absurd streak, which let�s me find humor in many more situations than I think most normal people do.

I am creative. Similar to the previous, but distinct in that creativity often results in tangible results. I may not be as creative as I would like, but I think I am creative enough that I have reasonable outlets for pent-up energy. (Though, to be honest, I haven�t been using those outlets lately.)

I have a wonderful girlfriend. I probably don�t tell her this enough, but Melinda is one of the most amazing people I�ve ever had the privilege of knowing. She�s generous, sincere, intelligent, creative, unselfish (to a fault), reliable, beautiful, sexy, and humble (also, probably to a fault). She doesn�t agree with me on this assessment (at least not in its entirety), but it�s all true. As far as my life to this point, she is a one-of-a-kind person. Mostly because of her unselfishness, a true rarity in this world of �gimme gimme� (myself included, I�m afraid), but also her combination of all of these things. While I�m not all hung up on the future and what it will bring, I can say without question that I couldn�t ask for a better present.

I have goals and the determination to fulfill them. This certainly doesn�t make me unique, and in a sense, because of various obstacles, can lead to intense frustration when I feel like I�m off the path, but I believe I am the better for it. I shudder to think what my life would be like if I actually was just drifting through it, instead of trying to do something with it. My goals in life are the one thing that probably keeps me going, more than any other factor.

So really, when I evaluate my life like this, I know that I�m pretty well off. Unfortunately, self-assessments like these are all too infrequent. But I�m trying, and hopefully, I�ll get to a point where it will not even be necessary to put everything into perspective. Until then, I�m going to try to keep my emotions tethered to what my life is, instead of what it isn�t. Because my life isn�t all that bad.

Now then�let�s hope that I�m not struck down in an ironic twist of fate, eh?

Well, it's been nearly two months. I really do wish I was a better blogger. This has gone from an occasionally lucid account of my life with a smattering of fun and/or relevant links to a wasteland of bitching and and psychotic rambling. This will be no different, I'm afraid.

My uncle passed away. Shortly before noon last Monday, his life was claimed by cancer. His funeral was this past Saturday. For reasons I can't fully comprehend, I did not attend. I wanted to...or thought I did. I don't know. It's that confusing. I tried to go, but missed my bus. I could have taken another bus, but I didn't. And I have been beating myself up for it ever since. Even with reassurances from my mother (it was her brother), and two of my cousins (one of which is his daughter) that it was okay if I couldn't make it, I still don't feel right for missing it. So I spent the entire day inside my apartment, being absolutely useless. Even though the weather was beautiful, and I had a couple of calls from friends (that went unanswered), I could not bring myself to venture outside or enjoy the weekend at all when I feel like I should have been with my family.

And yet, I wasn't, and I can't really explain why I chose not to...as I guess I stated before. Sorry; repetition is nearly unavoidable when you're writing off the cuff at one in the morning. I'd be trying to sleep, but I've been going to bed at 4am the last two nights and am not really tired. (Don't worry--in case anybody is reading this and is suddenly overcome with that emotion--I'll be going to bed as soon as I'm done typing this post.) Anyway...as I said, I did nothing but be a huge slug inside It was a totally numbing experience, terribly devoid of anything remotely resemebling emotions. Games, sleep, the occasional foray into the galaxy of television. There was some eating and waste elimination involved, too. And let's not forget the usual onanistic forays, more frequent for some reason. (Perhaps that was because of the otherwise emotionless weekend.) It's not the first weekend I've had like this, but it's the first time I thought it was necessary. Not as some sort of penance...but...I don't know why, actually. Perhaps to withdraw into myself to find the answer to the questions that have been bothering me about this whole funeral situation. That's purely speculative, mind you. I just can't explain it.

Beyond that, I couldn't even begin to tell you about the previous two months. Melinda has finally met my friends (all of them except for Ali, my best friend). My friend Mark was made an Elder of the United Methodist Church. I saw my friend Karin for the first time in ages when she visited our friends Kim and Chris (whom I also hadn't seen in over a year) over 4th of July weekend. And two of my co-workers left the Hilton. Turnover is no big deal, but when it's two people who I really liked and helped make that place tolerable, well it just kicks me in the ass. Naturally, I'm now looking for a job as well. Ideally, I would find one for myself and my friend, Marlon, too, so we could both bail at the same time. That office, needless to say, would crumble. And no, I'm not over-estimating my worth. It would crumble mostly because Marlon does so much, not to mention the fact that my boss has become quiet reliant on me. While I don't really wish much in the way of ill-will towards my current employers, I do believe a message needs to be sent about the rapidly declining morale. My hope is that if we leave, the place will fall apart and there will be an open revolt. Okay, I might be overstating things, but I'd like our departures (soon, I hope) to lead to some positive changes.

What else...what else? I don't know. It's 1:30, which means I'll be running on less than 6 hours of sleep tomorrow, so I should wrap this shit up. In a weird way, I'll be looking forward to going to work tomorrow, so I can have a bit of human interaction.

So, I bid you goodnight. And Uncle John, I'm sorry I couldn't be there to send you off. But I'm glad you were a part of my life. I wish you could have been around longer, but I know you lived a pretty full life. I hope your last days were relatively pain-free. I'll never forget you. God bless.

Damn...I can't believe how long it's been. I used to be really into this blog thing, but lately, I'm so lazy about it, that when I do decide to post something, I'm either at a loss as far as what to post, or there's so much that has happened, that the laziness kicks in, and I don't feel like going into all of it.

Anyway...once again, a lot has happened, a lot is going to happen, and I'm so damn lazy, I won't touch most of it.

Things with Melinda are better (sorry to have freaked you out, Andree). She has so much drama going on in her life that it's amazing that she can even tolerate my shenanigans for a mere nanosecond, let alone nights or weekends together. I'm just lucky that way. Either that, or she's certifiably insane and can't tell that I am, too. ;-) Anyway, things are going well. There are some hiccups, sure, but nothing that's sending me toward the panic button like the last time. There's just a lot less pressure and we're doing better for it. The relationship-intensity thing can be quite a snag, because it's always born out of something good, like being in love and wanting tp spend time together. But the thing about that is, it can throw your life out of balance, and that's no way to live.

In other news, my sister Danielle will be crossing the stage for her high school graduation this coming Friday. I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of her. Not that I ever doubted she would, it's just one of those golly-gee my sister is a woman moments. She's such a genuinely good person, as is my other sister (Desiree), that's it seems miraculous to me that they made it this far, considering their childhood included me as their older brother. (Hint: That's only half self-deprecating wit.)

So...she's graduating...Desiree is starting a new job at the beginning of June, and to top it all off, it looks like Big Lou (that would be my father, for those of you not in the know) will be living in the area starting this fall, as he will be teaching at the same high school as my mother! That has sitcom material written all over it. Luckily, they get along well, so the hilarity will probably kept to a minimum.

Also, it looks like I might be doing some travelling this year. My target is a July 17th-20th visit to the great city of Austin, Texas, to visit Angie and Che and Marcus and soon-to-be-born Spencer, plus Chuy and Sam (their dogs). I haven't seen Che since the day of Marcus' birth, which was back on August 2, 1999. I haven't seen Angie since September of that year at Kristy and Adam's wedding.

Speaking of weddings...this weekend marked the 6 year anniversary of Mark and Ana's and the 5 year anniversary of Angie and Che (they got married on Memorial Day weekend, one year apart). Nuts...I forgot to send them cards. Sigh...

And speaking of Kristy and Adam, I am aiming for a Labor Day trip to Chicago to see them, Liz, and Greg.

And while we're on the subject (sorta) of Liz, congratulations to her on her cover story for the Chicago Reader on the life and upcoming biography of MFK Fisher. It's a great read and worth your time to find if you're in the Chicago area. (Sadly, the web version of the Reader doesn't carry the print stuff. Pah.)

I think that's all. Yep. That's all.

A fighting champion,
Damian Vega$

Yesterday, I posted that bad things could possibly be happening, and as a result, I�m feeling uber-anxious. Since then, I have been feeling tremendously guilty, and here�s why.

The woman I love is having problems. She�s hit a point of total mental exhaustion and she doesn�t know what it is. I, being the self-involved potato lump that I am, naturally assumed that it must be something I did. Now, part of this is my perpetual state of cynicism and self-criticism. If something is wrong, it must be my fault, right? Another part of it (as witnessed by the preceding post) is self-preservation. If I expect the worst, then I can be as mentally prepared as possible when/if it finally happens. The third part, the part that I should really be putting my energy behind but am not, is concern about Melinda and wanting to help her. Now, part of the reason I�m not more active in this pursuit is that she doesn�t even know what it is that is bothering her, and we�ve agreed that I should just leave her alone until she�s had time to decompress. Now, this I did sorta grudgingly, and it is part of the reason I�m loading up on anxiety. But I told myself that I would do anything it took to make her feel better, even if I knew I�d be restless until her problems had a name (even if that name is my own). Of course, it hasn�t worked out that way at all. Instead of putting as much positive energy into thoughts of my baby getting better, I�m turning myself into a worked up emotional black hole.

Well, no more. Even if it is impending doom on the horizon, I shouldn�t care, because the immediate (and known) concern is Melinda.

I love you, baby. I don�t even know if you�ll read this, but if you do, know that I�m thinking about you, and hope that you�ll be back to the energetic, life-loving person you are. Even if that means�well�you know.

May 1st and all is well.

Sorta.

I feel like I have a lot to say. A lot. But I won't. Reasons? 1) Not sure where to begin. 2) Trying not to be overdramatic when it might (might...slight might) not be warranted. 3) I'm actually not in a depressed mood. I have tummy skitches going on, but overall, I'm just...

Here's an analogy: I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, and I'm looking over. However, this cliff is not new to me. I've been thrown off it a few times, and have managed to get up again. You get thrown off a cliff enough, eventually, the fear disappears.

Okay, that IS melodramatic. And it's not even that bad. Sure, it could get worse, but what can I do about it? Some things in life you can't control. And no matter how well you think you know the way, sometimes your internal compass is off and you can still get lost. Some people try to find their way back to the road, while others just decide that the direction their headed is always the right direction. In some ways, that's almost noble, because you're always moving forward. But that way always leaves a trail of what ifs, and who wants that?

Ugh...cryptic philosophising is terrible. But you know, it's all I have at this point. I feel like I should be in a worse state than I am, but to tell the truth, I'm not. If I've learned anything in the past year and a half (and I have, believe me), it's that I just need to let things happen. Reacting to things that haven't even happened isn't healthy.

You know, I haven't plugged anything in here in ages. I'll have to dig something up.

A bientot!

Oh...I almost forgot this little anecdote:

On the Friday before Easter, I decided that I was going to go shopping for clothes in Silver Spring, then hump it to the Target in Wheaton. I was to be doing this while Melinda was at the pool doing water exercises. After that, I was to call Melinda so she would pick me up. Well, 'round nine, when I was done shopping and she was done at the pool, I walked around City Place (the mall in Silver Spring) looking for a pay phone, because I don't own a cell. Fiddy cents in hand, I finally found one and dialed Melinda.

"Please insert an additional fifty cents for a four minute call."

*Enraged*

I go and break a twenty to get fiddy more cents, then dial up Melinda. As soon as I start to speak, the line drops out, then picks up, over and over. I tried to slip in words like "mall" and "Three Brothers Pizza" hoping that she would know to pick me up in front of Three Brothers Pizza. Disgusted, I slam down the phone and go upstairs to stand on the corner outside of Three Brothers in the drizzle. All the time, I'm getting ragey, thinking, "If only Melinda had a land line, I wouldn't be in this situation." Of course, underneath was a low-frequency rage saying "If only I had a cell phone, I wouldn't be in this situation." So, after waiting impatiently for about 10 minutes, I make my way toward the Metro, ready to blow off this night--and jeopardize the weekend and who knows what else in the process--totally a big seething monkey. Eventually, I decide to take a cab to Melinda's and hope she's there. But it's impossible to get a cab unless your'e at the Silver Spring metro, so I went there. But just as I got there, a number 12 Ride On bus came. A sign! This bus drops off right in front of her building. So I get on that and ride. When I get to her building, I looked for her car in the parking lot.

Nothing.

So she did get my message. I went and stood out front, since a) her buzzer doesn't work and b) even if it did, she wasn't there to let me in. Finally, someone in her building let me in, and I proceeded into her apartment, slowly unwinding (and I had twined myself into a tightly wound ball of rage) the whole time, and decided to get the pint of Edy's Whole Fruit Peach Sorbet that I had bought the week before and tried to freeze my misery away. About 15 minutes later, Melinda shows up, exasperated and a bit ragey herself. Luckily, by that point, I had finished most of the sorbet and was feeling a'ight...and after trading stories (she heard "Three Brothers" and had been circling City Place for a half hour, hoping that there wasn't a Three Brothers in Wheaton, where I mentioned I might go, and even calling her ex-boyfriend to see if he could trace the location of the pay phone I called from, and if I had just waited five or ten more minutes, none of that probably would have happened) we just burst into laughter at the hilarity of it all.

As badly as that whole evening could have turned out, it's a blessing to have it end the way it did. Truly a blessing.

Been a month...and what a month it has been. Let's go to the videotape...

Well, where to begin. My youngest sister, Danielle, turned 18. It's so hard to imagine her now about to graduate high school, when the memories of a cute-as-a-button toddler with a perfect little afro puff are so vivid. She's turned out to be a wonderful person, despite my attempts to fuck her up as a child.

My mother also had a birthday. Not a mileston birthday like Danielle's (or Desiree, who turned 25 weeks prior, and my dad, who is turning 50 next month), but it was a good one, anyway. And just yesterday, my nephew celebrated his 4th birthday. And a week from tomorrow, my friend Ali is celebrating her birthday. Insane, insane, insane...all these birfdays. It ends with my father's and doesn't pick up again until September (as far as family is concerned). Anyway, as a result of all of these birthdays, I've been on the Eastern Shore several times in the last month. It's always great to see family (especially the little ones), but I'd be lying if I said it will be nice to get a bit of a breather. Until Mother's Day.

Easter also happened, and this year was special because it was the day I introduced Melinda to my family. It went excellently, with most of it spent in the Centreville town square running around with Aaron and Arianna. (My nephew and niece, for those of you new to this site.) Of course, my family loves her. And why shouldn't they? She's totally, totally awesome.

Which makes it even more miraculous that it almost didn't happen because of a meltdown the previous week. It all started when I was in a rage over the fact that my friends--suburbanites all--never seem to come into D.C. to party or hang out. This was prompted by my going to a BBQ at my friends Jamie and Jarod's place and crashing in a most uncomfortable position on their love seat in a room full of people the night before. I slept for a few hours before taking off for the Metro and getting home and not sleeping the whole day. Just raging. Then the next day, I had the worst day at work and honestly considered quitting there on the spot. Of course, who should bear the brunt of my rage? Melinda. Now, that's bad and inconsiderate enough, but then consider she's been having a lot of her own stress lately, and you've got the makings of a highly combustible situation. So, the next day (that would be Tuesday if the sequence of events has been confusing to this point), I took the day off from work and went downtown and spent the entire day in the sun (and a couple of museums, including my favorite, the Hirshhorn, which I hadn't been to in ages). It was fantastic. The evening was spent with Melinda, sitting at a fountain near the NGA and FTC building, flopping on the Mall (go capering squirrel!), and walking around. Eventually, when it was getting dark and we were trying to decide what to do (go find a restaurant, part ways, or go by her office to get clothes so she could spend the night), I guess I got a bit exasperated sounding and that upset M. I honestly wasn't in a bad mood, but I guess just the whole possibility that I could meltdown again freaked her out a little. We finally decided on dinner, and talked about the state of things, and while she didn't come out and say it, she kinda confirmed what I had been fearing, that she was starting to have reservations about our relationship. Anyway...we really hammered things out and by the time we went our separate ways that night, I was feeling better about that, too. That weekend, we spent the entire time together, she met my family, and have since kinda started rebuilding our relationship. Okay...maybe rebuilding is a bit dramatic...but I feel like we're going forward, instead of being stuck in the depressive morass I had us in. And that matters a lot to me.

What else has been happening? Hmmm...Ali's sister Meara had her first child, little Hannah. Adorable child. I won $25 in the NCAA tourney pool I was part of. And Melinda and I are planning on going to a bed and breakfast sometime in June. I'm looking for a new job, and hopefully will find one. But until then, with the meltdown, day in the sun rebalancing/repleneshing myself, and the time to just recontextualize my life since then, I am feeling a whole lot better about the state of my life in general. And I hope it continues.

Travis Morrison is the frontman for the soon to be defunct Dismemberment Plan. He has posted on his personal website--after taking it down from the band website when his bandmates became less than thrilled with using the band's forum for his own views on a very touchy subject--a very cogent, thoughtful, and even-handed analysis of the War on Iraq. Considering the metro D.C. location and the associates of The Plan (Fugazi/Ian Mackaye/Dischord, anyone?), it is probably safe to assume that Travis is a pretty solid lefty. But while most of his peers are busy being reactionaries (I'm sure), Travis has approached this topic with pragmatism, intelligence and even a little wit. Kudos to Mr. Morrison for pointing out the big problem with anti-war protestors: their habit of running down the "history of American geo-political fuckups without actually using that knowledge to construct a coherent approach to the present and future." My friend Beth and I were discussing this the other day at the Aislers Set show after The Quails set, where the singer(s) would occasionally punctuate their set with anti-war rhetoric. Neither of us are for war, but we're also offended by anti-war protestors whose arguments are more reactionary and naive than forceful and informed. Unfortunately, these are the people who get the most press (and they say there's a liberal bias in the media...puh-lease), and it presents those against war as being simplistic and ignorant.

Anyway, check out the spiel, and sign the petition. Iraqi oil for Iraqis!

Thanks, Travis. Reading that made my day.

Mmmmmm...smoky.

Well, let's see, since the last time I posted, we've gone to war, the NCAA basketball tournament has begun, and I've spent even more time with the lovely Melinda. Such a whirlwind of emotions.

Anyway...yes, I'm smoky. I just got back from the Black Cat, where I saw the most impressive Hella, the equally qualitah Quails, and the fine Aisler's Set. A good show in a week of good shows. Sadly, I didna budget properly, so this is the only one I could catch. Sunday saw Calexico and Nina Nistasia play the main stage of the Black Cat while the might Vandermark 5 were on the back stage. Monday was the Television concert at the 9:30, tomorrow is the Engine Down/Dame Fate show at the Black Cat, and Thursday is Cursive/Minus the Bear, also at the Black Cat. *sigh*....not enough money.

Back to tonight's show...hung out with Beth and her friends, including Erin. This time, I was very friendly to Erin, but not so much that her husband would want to kick my ass. (For those of you who have been reading the blog for a while, you'll know why I even mention this.) Good to hang out with Beth, and I may be doing it more since she invited me to come to a pub trivia night with her in the future. Fun.

You know, I wish they would bring back the Indie Rock Flea Market.

Other than the above, not much else to report. Spending lots of quality time with Melinda and thinking about my future. Trying not to get into the usual depressive funk I get into when I think about the future, and so far, so good. I owe a lot of my recent peace of mind to mi amorcita. Te amo mucho, conejita.

Okay...sorry...I don't usually get this mushy in a "public" forum, but I'm just feeling it.

Also, big hugs to Liz, who has been down lately. I'm thinking about ya, kid. Have a blast in NYC.

And I'm spent. Goodnight!

A quick, pre-lunch plug from work: Nightclub Jitters. This is yet another qualitah music site. Big ups to Travelers Diagram for posting it.

That is all.

Fuckin' A...it's been 2 weeks again. Ugh. What to do? What to say?

First, go to Evan's Journal here. Read the bit on "Ban the !" Quality writing there (typos and all).

Also, you go now! Now! To this site. Thanks to Liz for providing it.

Nothing much more to report. Went home this past weekend for my sister's 25th birthday. That was quality time. I love those kids. They make me hate you all a lot less when I'm in their presence. Another one night sleepover. I haven't done a full weekend (Xmas doesn't count) at home in a while. I really should stay more than a day the next time, which is in a few weeks for my other sister's 18th birthday and my mother's nth (I would never divulge such sensitive information) birthday.

Things with Melinda are going well...oh, I guess I do have something to report. On the weekend of the 7th/8th, I met her family and friends for the first time. She had a party for her grandmother, essentially so that she could meet all of her friends. Her family is wonderful, and made me feel very at ease, which was necessary, as I was this furious ball of anxiety up until that point. And all of her friends were very nice and pleasant. Overall, the weekend turned out much better than I thought it would, and I feel much closer to Melinda as a result. Plus, I had some mad tasty tostones and some quali-tah desserts (especially the pineapple upside down cake...big ups to Nyree on that one).

I also have been having kinda confrontational dreams lately, culminating in a dream about us nuking Iraq. I saw the mushroom clouds and everything. Great...during the Cold War, I never suffered from nuke-yu-lar paranoia. Now it's seeped into my dreams. Fuck.

Speaking of which...when's that war starting? You'd think they'd postpone it because of the NCAA tournament...but, I guess there are larger priorities. Bah. This will be the year I win the damn thing and then we get nuked into oblivion. I apologize in advance for jinxing humanity.

Bonne nuit, mes amis.

Jeepers H. Crackers, it's been, what, almost 2 weeks? Wow. And to think, I thought I was getting to be consistent or something.

Anyway, the snow is gone, and today was an absolutely beautiful day. Blew a lot of money this weekend, too. Picked up a stick blender of my own (yaaay!), Getaway for the PS2, which is pretty awesome (from the 10 minutes I played it), the South Park movie on DVD, plus an RF Modulator so I can actually watch it.

To be honest, I haven't the faintest clue what has happened the last couple of weeks. And that's the truth. My memory is so shaky it's not even funny. Actually, that's not true. There just isn't a whole lot to report. I'm blissfully happy (duuhhh) in my relationship, even as it weathers stress (both external and internal to the relationship, my job isn't as bad as it used to be, and overall, things are hunky dory. A friend of mine has begun speaking to me again, so everything is jake with me. The only "negative" is that I've had two weekends of family time cancelled because of the bad weather, and next weekend I'm meeting Melinda's family (*gulp*), so I won't be seeing mine until I go home in a couple of weeks for my sister's birthday. It's been a long time. Since Christmas, actually. I really miss them.

Anyway, I'm not sure if I have about which I can prattle at length. If tix don't sell out, I'm going to see godspeed you! black emperor on Tuesday (M is coming along), and I will also try to see Television on the 24th. Sadly, I missed Mission of Burma, so my retro-punk exacta did not pay off. But if I get to see Television, I'll settle for that.

Yep. That's it. Until next time folks...

In case you haven't heard, it snowed like a motherfucker in these parts.

Sorry it's taken a week to get another post in this thing. Between snow and a four-day road trip to Melinda's (the trip extended due to the snow), it's been busy. (My apologies if this post comes out sounding distracted...I'm watching Chapelle's Show, and as always, it's funny shit.)

The stay at Melinda's was wonderful. I cannot believe how lucky I am, I honestly can't. We basically just kicked about, cooking (blueberry pancakes with a butter pecan maple syrup, pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, and a potato florentine soup that was amazing), playing games (we almost picked up Stratego!), watching movies (Waking Life, a great film by Richard Linklater, and State and Main, the most recent offering from David Mamet, which was hilarious), and being obnoxiously cute. She even cut my hair! It was just so much fun...it makes coming home to the spot even harder than usual.

Oh, before I forget, I did wind up going to see Hanne at Atomic Books and picking up her newest erotic work, Unruly Appetites. I haven't started it yet, as I'm still working on the Azerrad book, but I shall get to it soon enough. Hanne was as cool as I expected and if she's in a city near you, I suggest you pay her a visit and pick up a book or two.

Also picked up at Atomic Books: five issues of Dork (by the always brilliant Evan Dorkin) and ST 37's Down On Us for me, while Melinda picked up Christopher Moore's Lamb and a magnetic Sock Monkey courtesy of Tony Millionaire. Actually...Melinda picked it all up, because she's just that awesome.

We then went to Paper Moon for dinner, which was tasty, and had an absolutely evil looking dessert case. (Surprisingly, the Decadent Twins--as Melinda has dubbed us--did not partake.)

Anyway...where was I? Jesus...lost the point.

Tonight, met up with Melinda for dinner and then did a mini-binge on music. Just three discs, Out Hud's S.T.R.E.E.T.D.A.D., the Delgados Hate, and Q and Not U's No Kill No Beep Beep. It was hard keeping it to three, as the new Cat Power, the new Dirty Three, and new Calexico discs are out. Not to mention morbid curiosity has me wanting the Zwan disc.

And somewhere in all of the last week, I also got a reply from the FBI, saying that I met the minimum requirements for a job I applied to several months back. So they're going to forward it for further review. We'll see.

That about wraps things up. I'd like to thank my guests, Dr. Ruth Westheimer, Dr. Joyce Brothers, Joan Embrey, and of course, Charo. Coochie coochie!

It's been quite a week. On Monday, I suffered a urethral swab. On Tuesday, it was Mongolian Grill with the Entourage and Kathy (a friend of the Entourage who is pregnant). And today, it was dinner with Beth, who I haven't really hung out with since sometime in 2000. And it was great. I forgot how awesome she is to hang around with. We caught up as best as you can during a one and a half hour dinner conversation. She's getting over a breakup, which is always tough, but otherwise, seems to be doing fine. I told her about Melinda (ha! I used her name! Surprise, surprise!) and she was quite happy for me. (And thought M was very cool to boot.)

Also, it turns out, her best friend doesn't like me due to a huge misunderstanding. See a few years ago, at a Spiritualized show at the 9:30 Club, her friend Erin came up to me and said hello. Apparently, I blew her off. I actually remembered it, and was totally shocked that she thought I blew her off. I was at the show by myself, and thought she was with people. So I politely said hello and went back to watching the show. She took it as my being a dick, which in reality, it was just me being polite and shy, since I had a bit of a crush on her cute (and now married! *gasp*) indie girl self. Anyway, I explained what went down to Beth so that we could clear the air on that. It was weird enough finding out that the girl actually thought I was cool to begin with (I had actually thought she disliked me well before the Spiritualized show), but I couldn't let this perceived slight go uncorrected.

Oh, and please...PLEASE...watch the Dave Chappelle Show. Too fucking hilarious.

Well, the angst is gone, only to be replaced by a cold. If it weren't for the fact that I kinda like sneezing, I would absolutely hate colds. Mostly, they are just really annoying. But it could be worse. My mother is currently suffering from gastroenteritis and pancreatitis. My youngest sister may also be battling the former. My poor family. It totally blew up my plans to see the family this weekend. Even though mom is starting to feel better, I can't really afford to catch that. No health care benefits and all. I did call in sick today, which means I lose money, but I could afford it. I wound up napping and gaming and reading the whole day. (Reading "Our Band Could Be Your Life" by Michael Azerrad, and it's an awesome read, especially for such an indie geek like me.)

What else...well, my goil is visiting friends in Virginia, acting as the decoy in some insidious surprise party plot. Good for her. Acting! (Where have you gone, Jon Lovitz?) So I have the weekend by myself, which is good. I won't spread sickness, will be able to just rest and recover, and besides, this is a good test of our mettle. We'd spent the last 3 weekends together, and were being total dorks about not spending this one together. Sure, it's cute and all. (Well, if you're us. Ha! Take that!) But you know, it's just a weekend. Small potatoes, knaa'mean?

Other things: I may be going to Atomic Books this coming Thursday for a book signing by Hanne Blank, who you may know from a previous plug of Nibblechomp in this here blog. She'll be signing her new erotica collection, Unruly Appetites. I have Zaftig: Well Rounded Erotica, which she edited, and it's a quality (pronounced "qualitah") read. Of course, this is contigent upon how late I have to work, since it's in Baltimore and starts at 7. Oh yeah, I guess it also depends on if mi mu�equita would also be gracious enough to take me. This, too, is contingent upon how early she gets off from work, since she works even later than I do. (Sweetie, if you're reading this, I was totally going to ask you, and not just assume you would.)

Also, if we can swing it, me and the boys might be rolling to Lulu's for a special event: "The Search for DC's Girl Who Went the Wildest!" That's right, Girls Gone Wild is rolling into town on Feb. 18th. That should be quite a night, if we wind up going (and getting in, which will be a tough task, I'm sure).

That's about it. I'm going to hang out with Ali tomorrow if I'm feeling better, and will be meeting up with my friend Beth next Wednesday to hang out, something I haven't done in over a year, only seeing her on the random occasions where we'd bump into each other on the street. I'm looking forward to it. I am really going to try to get in touch with all of the people I lost track with in the last year due to financial problems and depression.

And now I really have to go, because the "Uncle Pecos" episode of Tom and Jerry is starting, and that is a CLASSIC. "Froggy went-a courtin' and he did ride...C-C-C-Crambone!" Ciao!

It's quite extraordinary: no matter how happy you get, no matter how giddy and obnoxiously lovey-dovey you become, if there's still a galaxy of despair inside, you can easily slide through the wormhole into the blackness.

Tonight, I was actually near tears when I was accidentally pitched into the past while talking with my amorcita. Same stuff that has been tormenting me for the last couple of years and how I still feel stuck in a huge career tarpit. Anyway, I guess the changes in the last couple of months haven't been enough to completely erase the depression I experienced last year (especially last summer...just look at the archives), and when we got on the subject, it all came rushing back to me to the point where I just couldn't talk any more. I hate the feeling, but what can I do? It's part of me.

And to top it all off, we won't even be able to spend the weekend together, which isn't a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, but it's not exactly going to help my current state of mind. I just hope the rest of the week at work doesn't make me want to cut someone.

Why am I posting all of this here? Fuck if I know.

Where are you, Mavis Weld?

So it basically went down like this:

"I love you."
"And I, you."

That's six words, and two of the words are repeated. So really, it's four words. But they were incredibly transformative, and took an incredible amount of nerve to get them out. I'd never been the first to initiate this phase in a relationship before, and I'm still kinda shocked that I did it this time. To quote Seinfeld, "'cause if you don't get that return, that's a pretty big matzoh ball hanging out there." But as it turns out, my anxiety (in this instance, anyway) was for nothing. Seems she'd been biting her tongue on the same thing for about a week.

So what does it all mean? For now, that we're both incredibly happy. For the future, who the hell knows? (Insert standard cliche about it's the journey, not the destination, etc.)

And now in a subject completely unrelated to the preceding (and naughty to boot, so please be 18 before clicking the link), I used to work with this girl. What a crazy world, eh?

Before I get myself to bed, I should say that this post may come down (or at least be edited) if it does not get the proper (after-the-fact, obviously) clearances from all parties involved. So enjoy this bootleg version while you can.

Using a different template for the Experience. Just got tired of ripping off Traveler's Diagram. (Hey, if you're going to rip something off, rip off something that rocks, knaa'mean?) Anyway, nothing much to add at the moment. Actually, it's just a bit late to add anything. But I've been futzing with the site for the last hour, so I thought I'd post something.

I should probably take this time to welcome my newest reader. Andree, welcome. I am afraid that your expectations for updates might be a bit too optimistic. But I hope you keep coming back, anyway.

Okay, I'm going to bed now. It's very weird not having the girl (this is acceptable, since I am apparently "the boy") here with me. But I shan't dwell on it. It will just make the sleep peaceless and me cranky until the weekend.

Oh, and Monica, if you're reading this (and I doubt you are now that Ron is back), I'm still considering the feedback/talk/message function for this site. We'll see, eh?

"The Fry-man is not excited to see us."
"Well that's a mistake!"

Sorry...I'm watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force again and can't help quoting the Mooninites. Great, great characters.

Ahem.

So, it's been just over a week since the last post. In that time, there was three day weekend where I got little sleep. Yet it was such an incredible weekend, I'm still thinking about it. What happened? Again, I'm not going to say, since it's nobody's business. (And I'm sure that nobody really wants to hear about it.) All that needs to be said is that it was a weekend unlike I've ever had before, and I hope to be having many more of them.

Which begs the question: if everything is so hunky-dory (and it really, truly is *insert blissful sigh and goofy smile*), why the hell do I feel like I'm going to fuck it up? I can't explain it, either. (I seriously hope that expressing this fear isn't the first step to making it into a self-fulfilling prophecy.) But I can't help it. Not that I am so pessimistic that I think that it's inevitable. I just...it's a nagging feeling that creeps into me every now and then. I have this suspicion that internal mechanisms or external forces will just conspire to fuck up my good thing. I try not to dwell on these thoughts, and I'm hoping they dissipate with the passing of time, but... I don't know. Anxiety totally sucks ass. (If I may abandon eloquence for a second.)

In other news, the Super Bowl is this weekend, and I could not care less about it. I mean, I want to watch it, but my interest in the NFL playoffs have been low this year, especially because the Dolphins didn't make the post-season. For the record, I am pulling for the Buccaneers. Anyway, the Super Bowl party is at Carl's this weekend. Should be fun. I honestly think I enjoy the gatherings more than the games.

You know, it's been a while since I've nurtured the misanthrope within. Maybe that's what the anxiety is. Perhaps starting each day with a healthy dose of gleeful disdain for humanity would normalize my feelings. It would probably make me intolerable, sure, but I'd probably feel more like myself. Naaaahh...fuck that. If hating everyone (except Turtleface) places me anywhere near how I felt last summer, I'd just as soon leave it alone.

And finally: BIZARRO!

I know this is a bit late, and that nobody really cares, but for those of you with some disposable income, and some time to kill (to read this), here are the Damian Vegas Top 30 Albums of 2002. I don't have cool little capsules for each one, because I'm much too lazy to do such a thing.

1. godspeed you! black emperor - yanqui uxo
2. Acid Mothers Temple - Electric Heavyland
3. Acid Mothers Temple - In C
4. Neko Case - Blacklisted
5. Polyphonic Spree - The Beginning Sounds of...
6. Sonic Youth - Murray Street
7. Sleater Kinney - One Beat
8. Lambchop - Is A Woman
9. Broken Social Scene - You Forgot It In People
10. El-P - Fantastic Damage
11. Wilco - Yankee Foxtrot Hotel
12. Mr. Lif - I Phantom
13. ...Trail of Dead - Source Tags and Codes
14. Radar Bros. - And the Surrounding Mountains
15. Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
16. Interpol - Turn on the Bright Lights
17. The Notwist - Neon Golden
18. Yo La Tengo - The Sounds of the Sounds of Science
19. Nina Nastasia - The Blackened Air
20. Sigur Ros - ( )
21. 90 Day Men - To Everybody
22. Bellini - Snowing Sun
23. Wolf Colonel - Something/Everything
24. Non Phixion - The Future is Now
25. French Kicks - One Time Bells
26. Isis - Oceanic
27. 2 Many DJs - As Heard on the Radio
28. Arlo - Stab the Unstoppable Hero
29. Bigger Lovers - Honey in the Hive
30. The Black Heart Procession - Amore Del Tropico

And I'm spent. See ya!

NFL playoffs are go! I was up in Hanover, PA last night at Damon's, with the Entourage (Carl, Caren, and Jamie) plus Matt and Kel. It was much fun pulling for the Tennesse Titans around all of those Steelers fans (three of them at my table). Glad to know my sick contrariness was rewarded with a Joe Nedney ("NED-NEEEEYYY!") field goal in overtime. I departed after that game with Das Obergs, and was delivered to my door, where I would eventually settle in for sleep (at 2:30 in the morning). Very necessary after this weekend.

Which I won't give you any more details of because I'm a gentlemen. Ha! Deal with that, suckas!

I cannot stop watching my Adult Swim tape. Most frequently watched: the "Bizarro!" episode of Sealab 2021 and the "Revenge (or is that Return?) of the Mooninites" episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Fuckin' hilarious. "It's because those are Loverboy songs...and Loverboy has always sucked."

If you're interested, I'm Eagles and Titans for the Super Bowl. Just because I want to see those fiery Scottish quarterbacks, McNabb and McNair duelling in the biggest game of the year. It would be a great achievement for Scots everywhere.

That's all for this space for now. I'ts 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon, and I haven't even showered yet. Hygiene calls!

So sleepy. Why am I awake? Studies are inconclusive, but evidence suggests that I'm a jackass. But a loveable jackass. Can you make the same claim? Liar!

Actually, I'm awake because I have this weird compulsion to be awake, even if my body is fighting me on it. (Which it's doing now.) I get so caught up in the multimedia in my apartment, that going to bed actually seems unappealing. Then I fall asleep and love every minute of it, only to have it end much sooner than I wanted.

And actually, now my resistance to sleep is futile. So I'm calling it quits. I'll finish this post later. Ciao!

Okay, so I started this post last night aroudn 12:30, and now I'm finishing it at 8:55pm. But hey, at least I didn't let it linger for weeks. I know what my fans want.

Actually, I was just go to post this without adding anything, but then I was reading something, and I had to rant (sorta) about it.

The subject: Joe Millionaire. Yes, that new reality show on Fox that is straight poo poo. I haven't seen the show, but I post in a sports forum, and surprisingly, a lot of the guys there have. I found that surprising enough, but even more surprising, the guys all LOVED the show. The hook? They are all delighting in these "typical" women getting what they "deserve." Now, I admit, I have said myself that I am intrigued by the prospect of seeing a bunch of gold-digging women getting their comeuppance for being shallow, money-grubbing skanks. But the way the guys are just revelling in their imminent humiliation...I feel kinda skeevy. Even more offensive is the way that they all seem to think this is kind of behavior is par for the course for women. It's ridiculous how many men seem to have opinions that were apparently forged by old episodes of "Married With Children." (A show that I freely admit to loving, but not so much that I saw it as a documentary.)

It's disheartening that more and more men seem to be buying these modern, television-inspired cliches about women. It helps to explain why the chasm between men and women--in terms of their understanding of each other--doesn't seem to be closing. It's easy to rely on stereotypes when the other option is genuinely trying to understand people.

Now...if you'll excuse me, my woman is making me a sammich and I need to smack her on the ass to show my approval. Ciao!

Mmmmm...fruity Pebbles.

First off: go Buckeyes! For those of you who aren't college football inclined, the Ohio State Buckeyes won the national championship last night, beating the Miami Hurricanes (my other favorite college football team, so the game was really a no-lose situation for me) in a thrilling overtime game. Unless Jim Tressel doesn't win a game the next two seasons combined, I have a feeling the man is going to be in Columbus for a long time. In just two years, he's beaten Michigan twice and won a national championship. The man is simply a great coach. All those titles with the YSU Penguins, and now a national championship with the Buckeyes. Of course, due to this success, I wouldn't be surprised to see him get some offers from the NFL soon. Which would be a shame, because I think he is just a great fit for Ohio State. But hey, if the players' dreams are to be in the NFL one day, why shouldn't that be the dream of the coach as well? Anyway, congratulations Buckeyes! You earned it.

What else? Oh, yeah, today, January 4th, 2003, I will attempt to put my house into working order. Clean, clean, clean. It really needs to be done, but first I need to be motivated. Right now, I'm only motivated toward evil.

I had the weirdest dream last night (what? you need a proper transition? bah!). Actually, only parts of the dream were weird (and memorable). Weirdness one: I had this 45 (you remember vinyl, don'tcha kids?), but it was edible. It wasn't made of pure sugar, because it wasn't sweet. It was just....edible. The weirder part? It regenerated after having bites taken out of it. Bizarre.

Weirdness two: Carl (aka Tommy Sands) was nearly killed by Bigfoot. We were riding along (in what kind of vehicle, I don't remember. It may have been one of those bicycles built for four, because Jamie, Jarod and I were also there), since I remember Carl getting snatched off the back of it and hurled headlong into an approaching semi-truck. Very freaky. I remember Bigfoot getting plowed into after that, but there was no body, so it was thought he escaped. Meanwhile, we couldn't get close enough to Carl (a crowd had formed) to find out if he was dead. But he wound up being alive later, so I guess it all worked out.

And I also remember my sister (Danielle) planning to drive to Canada and I had to cover for her.

Anyway....Canada, Bigfoot and Carl...that could qualify as a nightmare in my book. I've really got to start going to bed earlier and not having snacks before I do.

Okay, I've wasted enough time here. Time to clean. I think I'll start with myself and hop in the shower. Hopefully, that will be enough to drive me to cleaning the rest of this dingy abode.

Feh.

Well, well, well. It's been a long time, hasn't it? Hasn't it?!

First: Happy New Year! My first 24 hours into this year just came to a close, and I must say, I'm unimpressed. This is the future? I'm still in the same apartment, watching the same television shows, and reading the same websites. I thought the future was supposed to be bright?

Seriously, a lot has changed since the last time I posted. I realize that my rabid fanbase hasn't been pleased with this turn of events, but what can I tell you? If you need a fix for the mundane, why don't you go turn on the radio? Stop hassling me!

What was I saying? Oh yes, a lot has changed. First change: I decided to work full-time for the Hilton. Actually, I'm still not a permanent employee. I decided to forgo benefits in exchange for never having to work on weekends and getting time off when I need it instead of taking "leave." I know some of you think that's foolish, but I have a feeling I'll be out of there sooner than later, and in the meantime, the pay has nearly doubled, which I'm loving. It helped out a lot with Christmas, which was absolutely wonderful. I got to spend 5 whole days at home with my entire family. Big Lou even made the trip from the Left Coast for the second year in a row. There's nothing quite like the feeling I get when the entire family is gathered. (Having the cutest nephew and niece in the world as part of that family doesn't hurt, either.)

Second change: there's a girl. I will not give her a name, because I respect her privacy (this is probably unnecessary, since I know nobody actually reads this blog, except for a few friends, who already know her name). At this point, there's not a lot to tell. We have gone out only once, but it was an all-day adventure that was simply amazing. It was interesting: I never really lost that excited/nervous feeling all day, even though I was immediately comfortable around her. We chat pretty much on a daily basis, and we even talked on the phone a few nights while we were with our families (she in NYC, I on the eastern shore of MD).

What's she like? Cute (obviously; Vegas doesn't roll with scrubs), very intelligent and creative, selfless (to a fault at times), and has an amazing sensitivity. Best of all, she challenges me. Not in a confrontational/contrary sort of way, but whenever we're talking, I feel like I'm actually using my brain. As is in evidence on this blog, I'm much into mindless chatter with only the occasional lapse into the genuinely thought-provoking. (It's the curse of the happy-go-lucky epicure-wannabe.) But when I talk to her, I feel comfortable no matter where the conversation turns.

I'm trying not to overthink this relationship at the moment, but I can't help but wonder where this journey will end up. Part of it is just the residual feeling from that amazing day, but the other part is how easily it is to be myself around her. I like that I don't feel like Vegas (and don't give me wrong, I love being Vegas) and I can simply be Damian. (Or Buckwheat Pillows, but that's an inside joke that I may eventually explain.)

And that's all. Perhaps I can resolve to post in my log on a regular basis this year. We'll see.

Jinjur!

Since I've twice posted about Evan Dorkin's blog, I felt bad that I hadn't posted anything about the equally impressive Jinjur.com, which is superwoman Sarah Dyer's website. Sarah is really the brains behind the Dyer/Dorkin web presence (from a design standpoint, anyway. At least I think she is. I can't claim to know how much of it is her work and how much is Evan's. But from what Evan himself has written/confessed, it seems like she's nearly 100% of the operation), and she's fantastico at it. For a cooking clod such as myself, her cooking classes are a godsend. (Marinades! Who knew?) So, please. Stop by and enjoy it.

Evan's Journal

Hello people. I'm just posting this as a followup to the Evan Dorkin journal link below. This is the new home of his journal. You go here now! Now!

Well, it's been 2 weeks, and what can I tell ya? The DVX keeps its own hours. If you don't like it, check a link on the right, yo.

Some shit has gone down in those two weeks, namely my sister and her family being robbed in their home at gunpoint. It really fucked me up, so who knows how my sister and her family are doing. My niece and nephew seem to have no lingering mental effects from it (luckily, and most thankfully, nobody was seriously hurt, though, my brother-in-law was tasered), but I'm sure my sister--the last person in this whole damn world who needs this kind of trauma--is probably still spinning this in her head. For me, I went through one of my worst weeks in recent memory, just thinking about it over and over again. And as I am wont to do, imagining how I'd feel if things had turned out worse. My family mean so much to me, and to have the people I would die for have their lives threatened just rips me up. I just want to go and fuck things up, hardcore style. But, cooler heads prevailed, and time has helped me relax a little bit. But I still worry. It's sad that I live in a place that was once the murder capital of the US and feel safe, but my sister is living in the country and is getting jacked.

On a lighter (ha!) note, I picked up the new godspeed you! black emperor disc a couple of days ago. It's sweeeet. I haven't really immersed myself into it yet, but will do so shortly. I can safely say that I think everybody should go buy it. Go on! Support some good goddamn art for a change, wanker!

That's all. There's more going on in my life, but I really don't feel poetic right now. So I'll blather on later.

"Write it on a postcard, 'Dad they broke me, dad they broke me....'"

Evan Dorkin: The Blog!

Just thought I'd give my blog some juice by heartily endorsing the blog of Mr. Dorkin. I've been a fan of his work for years and try to keep up with his (and Sarah Dyer's) work when it occurs to me. (Though, I don't exactly show them love with the $$$, but what are you gonna do? At least I'm not stealing from them, like all you MP3 monkeys out there. I mean, for chrissakes, if you're going to steal, why not steal some good music, you thieving bastards! End random, puzzling rant.)

Anyway, one of these days, I'm going to save the money and buy all the Dork comics I don't have, as well as a bunch of his and Sarah's stuff that I've been meaning to pick up. In the meantime, I encourage all of my readers to do the same. Ha! Readers!

MTV.com - News -Jam Master Jay, Run-DMC DJ, Killed In Shooting

I find this incredibly sad. I'm not really much to mourn the passing of a celebrity, but I am moved by this. Probably because Run-DMC really got me into hip hop, and I've always had a special place in my memories for their music. His contributions, along with his bandmates, helped push hip hop into the mainstream. And while many who have followed in their wake have sullied hip hop's good name with their ignorant thuggishness and deplorable materialism, I for one will never forget who helped get it there.

RIP Jay.

nibblechomp

So, when I get bored--you'd be surprised at how often that happens to me--I sometimes look up people I know to see where they pop up on the internet. Tonight, I decided to look for Liz and came across this nifty site. The concept is fabuloso. A foodie blog for foodies and non-foodies alike. It's so wonderful to see people be passionate about food in such down-to-earth and eloquent terms.

Okay, more web surfing. Who will I look for next?

More people should be listening to Janis Ian.

I'm sure many of you by now have heard the "new" Nirvana song, "You Know You're Right." Accompanying such a momentous event has been a lot of unnecessary analysis, trying to place it within the context of the rest of Nirvana's body of work. One article I read even quoted somebody as saying it was one of their ten best songs. As it turns out, that little bit of information has taken on the weight of fact with some people, as a forum I post in regularly has had a few members post similar sentiments. Now, I'm all for difference of opinion, but having heard the song myself, I have to say: are you fucking kidding me? Let me state right away that I think it's a good song--a very good song. But top ten? Have you people even heard anything else by Nirvana? My first impression of the song was that it was just okay, that it sounded too close to Bush doing their best Nirvana impersonation. But I kept listening to it, and eventually, was hooked. It's got a great hook leading into the one word chorus ("pain" stretched out into many syllables; not Kurt's finest writing) and, in the end, definitely worthy of being in the Nirvana canon. Top ten? Not even. Here are 10 songs off the top of my head that are better:

1. About A Girl
2. Aneurysm
3. Blew
4. Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle
5. Heart Shaped Box
6. Lithium
7. Milk It
8. Radio Friendly Unit Shifter
9. School
10. Smells Like Teen Spirit

Hello, and welcome from Washington, D.C., where pumping gas is now considered risky behavior. I'm your host, Damian Vegas, and so far, I'm bullet free.

I know, levity at a time like this, right? Well, unless you're in the D.C. area, you can't really talk. You probably don't walk 25 minutes to work every day, wondering if some lunatic is going to move his operations into the city. You don't embark on that same 25 minutes again at the end of the day, eyes darting around like some crack addict looking for a forgotten rock on the ground, wondering if the odd looking fellow in that white van over there is perhaps going to kill tonight, or maybe even now. So you'll excuse me if I try to break the tension for a minute with a joke or two.

Admittedly, I feel a bit safer being in the city, since trying to elude the police and avoid detection in downtown traffic is a losing gambit. Still, perhaps this guy is a step away from going into complete mental oblivion, where he will just come into town and start blowing people away without a care in the world about being caught. So, until he's apprehended, I will remain uneasy, if not outright spooked.

In other news...you know what really irks me? People who act as if the music they grew up with is untouchable. Like they are the only influences on music there will ever be. Naturally, it's people that are the same age as the groups they worship, who think that because they were around when that particular era broke, that everything else MUST pale in comparison. Meanwhile, they're blasting "Frankenstein." Fuck those clowns. And they usually compound their ignorance by bemoaning the sad state of "today's music." Well, if I only listened to the 5% of music that radio and television allows you to hear, I may say the same thing. Fortunately for me, I'm not lazy (when it comes to music, anyway), and I go out and find the good stuff.

And speaking of that good stuff, I've got 2 cds coming my way, both by the awesome Japanese freakout collective, Acid Mothers Temple. The first is the recently release Electric Heavyland, available from Canada's own Alien8 Recordings. The other is In C, which you can find over at Squealer Music. Hopefully, I'll get both in the next week or so. I'm very excited.

That's all for now. INUKSHUK!

Oh, one more thing: Rachael is now my current fave Camwhore. To quote Seinfeld, "They're real, and they're spectacular!" *swoon* Sadly, she lives in Michigan, which makes her my sworn enemy.

(And if you're wondering, no, I still haven't signed up to be a member. Still don't want to be that guy.)

Two days later, he wrote again.

Hi there, kids! It's time for Damian Vegas to uncloak and give you the 4-1-1!

Ugh...I couldn't even maintain that bit for more than two sentences. I need new material. Perhaps I can steal from Gastrolater #3. Yes, it finally came in the mail from the 'zine author herself, Miss Liz T. I haven't started it yet, but plan on getting around to reading it faster than I did G2. And I'm sure it will be just as good, if not better. If anybody reads this blog, I heartily endorse this product. If you are interested, e-mail me, and I'll let her know. I think the price is $5, or some such. It's well worth it. She's got great design skills, plus she's one of those hyper-literate types, so naturally it's well-written. And, if that wasn't enough to sell you, I also get mentioned twice in the travelogue. Huzzah! What more could you ask for, you greedy bastards?!

What else is in the news...oh yeah, another sniper victim. That brings the death count up to 7. And to think, in a conversation with my friend Monica a month or so ago, I lamented the fact that there weren't any high-profile serial killers these days. You know, like your Ed Geins or your Ted Bundys. Not that I want people to be killed (well, not most people), but since I find them fascinating, in a kinda morbid/scholarly sort of way, it seemed like it had been too long since we had one that was national newsworthy. I wish I hadn't said it.

Now, off to Blisstonia.

Hello, hello. I had a random person take the girlfriend quiz (link is on the left, fool!), so I figured I'd do something web-related, to justify my existence for the day.

And what a world I exist in! It's psychic death at work, which carries over to my home life, leaving with me just enough energy to turn on my television. Then, as I stare at the screen (assuming I don't have "Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law" playing or have my PS2 turned on), I am inundated with images of death in my nice little town. You see, it seems some clown has taken it upon himself to go around playing sniper and killing random people. Granted, his little killing spree is just outside my periphery (I'm in downtown D.C.), but how long before he decides to wander further into the district?

I wasn't afraid of another terrorist attack or anthrax poisoning (because I figured the government, after letting a couple slip past the goalie, would be on total lockdown), and I don't really fear West Nile, even though a couple of people have died in the area. But I am a little bit scared by this. It's so random. I walk 20 minutes to work every morning, and 20 minutes back at night, and it feels like the longest walk now. My eyes are darting around, and whenever I have to stop because of traffic, I feel myself kinda pacing in my little area, as if that would save me. It's really rather frightening. A faceless killer always is. I can't believe this clown has intruded upon my bathos so.

My niece turns one this Saturday. I'll be going to her birthday at Chuck E. Cheese. Between going there for goofy fun with my friend Mark and going with my nephew and niece, I've been to Chuck E. Cheese more as an adult than I did as a kid. And that includes trips to Showbiz Pizza Palace, which we had more of than Chuck E. Cheese where I grew up.

What else you ask? Nothing, really. Almost finished with Final Fantasy X, and have started (barely) Kingdom Hearts. I think I will try conquering Medal of Honor next. Mmmmmmmmm....nerdly.

C'est tout.

Hello people. My birthday has come and gone, and only my family members bought me items from my wishlist. You filthy bastards! What the hell is wrong with you?! The wishlist is there for a reason, people. To make me happy! Buy me things, or I swear I'll track you down and have you all beaten if I don't start getting more action here.

Anyway, the birthday was great. I went to Shula's Steakhouse the weekend before with the Entourage. (I don't think I've discussed "The Entourage" before on here; perhaps another time.) It was a terrific meal and a great surprise, and it boosted my spirits more than just about anything has recently. I did not join the 48 oz. Club, however. Dare to dream, I say!

The weekend after the birthday, I went home to visit family. I got cake and gifts and plenty of time to play with my niece and nephew. I felt so good after that stay. I always feel good after coming home, I really should do it more often. I'll be home soon enough, as my niece will be celebrating her first birthday in a few weeks. She's more adorable every time I see her. *insert sigh here*

One last birthday related note: I got great gifts from my friend Monica. A couple of them were actually supposed to be for my birthday last year, but because she's been kinda crippled and lazy (and in L.A. at the time), she never sent them. She drew the first ever Damian Vegas comic and also picked me up a tape by Hulk Hogan and Wrestling Boot Band. And for this year, she burned me a great CD. Just tremendous. Thanks, Monica!

In less significant news, I just finished Max Payne and have started Final Fantasy X. On deck: Devil May Cry, Medal of Honor: Frontline, and on its way, Kingdom Hearts. An unholy union between Squaresoft and Disney? Sure, why not?!

Lastly, I've been stopping by Cam Whores more recently after a significant lack of interest for a while. New ("new") favorite is Haru.

Musically, I have picked up the Butthole Surfers' "lost album" Humpty Dumpty LSD and have 2 cds coming in: Yo La Tengo's The Sounds of the Sound of Science and The Bombshelter DJs (Radar and Z-Trip) Live at the Future Primitive. Can't wait to get them. The BHS album is great, btw. Fans of the band who actually enjoy Hairway to Steven or Locust Abortion Technician (or more to the point, who knew the band existed before "Pepper") would do well to pick it up.

And I'm spent. 'Night!

Well, it's been a few weeks, and the most significant event to occur (here comes duh) is the one year anniversary of September 11th. I can't say I was any more reflective yesterday than I usually am. As a matter of fact, I think i semi-consciously tried to avoid thinking too much about it. But, of course, I could only hold out for so long. Starting with prime-time TV last night and the slew of 9/11 programming, I got sucked right back into it. And most surprisingly, the impact from seeing all of those images again were still as powerful a year later. I suppose thinking a year would somehow dilute the memories was a bit naive; not that I didn't want to be effected by it, but a year is a long time for somebody--especially somebody who didn't personally lose someone to the attacks--to regroup emotionally. It just seemed natural that I wouldn't be as moved by this tragedy as I had been then. I was wrong.

In less somber news, I fixed my PS2, so I've been playing the shit out of Max Payne, which I picked up to celebrate my success. I <3 Rockstar Games. I cannot WAIT until Grand Theft Auto: Vice City is released. (And if anybody would like to be generous and reserve/buy me a copy--as seen on my Wishlist!--feel free to do so. [End shill.]

Speaking of birthdays, Happy Birthday to Monica! Hope you have a great one, you damn cripple! For any random people reading this blog, go visit her site and sign her guestbook. She likes that. Make her day! And tell her who referred you!

And now, I sleep.

Hey! I just did my very own Amazon.com wish list. Click on it to buy me stuff! Act now, my birthday is in just over 3 weeks. (September 17th to be exact.) Sure, I don't get naked or perform anything else for the things on my wishlist. But if you've read this blog, you know that I need something to go my way. (Ha!) So take pity on this old soul (I'll be 28! *gasp*) and buy me something. (Caution: most items on the list are big ticket items. I figure, why wish for stuff that I could buy myself?)

More blog therapy...

So yesterday, in another fit of unedited catharsis, I did something I didn't think I could ever do. I won't say what it was, but I regret it already. I honestly believe I did the right thing, but the short-term consequences are hurting me a lot more than I expected. No matter how much you get used to something, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. At least, that's how it is with me, anyway. But this is as much of who I am as my eye color or shoe size. Whenever I get something inside me, I have to get it out, no matter the backlash I may face or emotional turmoil I may be subjecting myself to. I think the aspect of my personality that I've wielded to get cheap laughs--that is, my ability to say without fear pretty much anything, no matter how ludicrous or how much of a lie it might be--has surfaced in other areas, making it impossible to have any kind of dialogue where I don't put everything on the table before the cards are even dealt. If I had some sort of internal editing mechanism, instead of embracing a "pure id" persona, I'd be much better about not leaving myself open. Of course, there is an irony afoot, as in this particular case, I've left myself open, but I'm not getting ANY response. I think I'd be a lot less upset if I knew what exactly was going on with all parties involved. Of course, I guess I should have gotten the whole story before leaping into emotional oblivion. But, that's pure id for you.

The Love Calculator

This is an oldie, but in a fit of nostalgia (and while searching for answers from any source), I came across it again. Slightly less bogus than the biorhythm stuff you find on the web. Why? Because I said so.

The good news, of the celebs that I matched myself with, Natalie Portman was my closest match. Yes! I wonder if this is legally binding in court. (Ha!)

The bad news? Of all the people I actually know whose names I fed into this, my best match was the last person I needed a close match with. Stranger still, it wasn't even close. At least 50% higher than anybody else. Stupid site! You go squish now!

Hey kids, what time is it?

Right now, it's 4:30 am, and I am in a semi-groggy state, having fallen asleep on my floor only to be woken up by the sound of Astronaut Jones (god bless Tracey Morgan) on the late rerun of Late Night with Conan O'Brien. Sadly, my half-awake state was throttled into complete submission to consciousness when The Strokes came out and played. Feh. Every time I hear them, I still can't believe the hype they received. Short-term memory is a disease that has tainted too much musical criticism these days. Oh well. I'm too tired to get into this debate right now.

And now, Access Hollywood is going on about Ashanti being snubbed by some misanthropic 'net fans who thinks she doesn't deserve the award she's up for. My kingdom for a sledgehammer. Damn.

Bed. Need bed. Will I do it? Nahhhhhhhhh....

Borderline Personality Disorder:

A person who suffers from this disorder has labile interpersonal relationships characterized by instability. This pattern of interacting with others has persisted for years and is usually closely related to the person's self-image and early social interactions. The pattern is present in a variety of settings (e.g., not just at work or home) and often is accompanied by a similar lability (fluctuating back and forth, sometimes in a quick manner) in a person's affect, or feelings. Relationships and the person's affect may often be characterized as being shallow. A person with this disorder may also exhibit impulsive behaviors and exhibit a majority of the following symptoms:

frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.

a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.

identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)

recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior

affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

chronic feelings of emptiness

inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)
transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

Ahhhhh...this is more like it. That post every three days shit was not me. A couple of weeks between posts is more like it. Sadly, I have not been filling that time productively. I did spend two weekends with my father, who was visiting from California, so that was fun. Especially since one of the weekends involved being with my entire family (mother, father, sisters, brother-in-law, nephew and niece), which is always good for piece of mind.

Other than that, I can't report much. Have some more drama, but I refuse to put it into words (mostly because there are some things I just don't like to put into words, but also because I'm not sure what I would say, anyway). Have had less work-related stress, which helps, but I'm still feeling out of sorts. I've been trying to diagnose what I might have, and the closest thing I can come up with is Borderline Personality Disorder. I don't think that's it, but it's close. I should probably seek therapy, but hey, life's no fun without taking a chance, right?

What else? Hmmmmmm...well, yesterday, I picked up the new Neko Case album and have been listening to it pretty much non-stop. It's an amazing disc, with Ms. Case being backed by Giant Sand. Mmmmm....that's good music! I'd find a link to a track to download, but dammit if I'm not lazy. Besides, everyone out there seems to be stealing music these days, so I'm sure you can get it yourself. I recommend "Runnin' Out of Fools," where Neko nearly matches Aretha (who did the song in the early 60s) on vocals. Strangely enough, this is one of only 3 records I've ever bought based on hearing it being played in a store, the other two being Velvet Underground's VU ("Ocean" pulled me in) and, I'm not making this up, Aretha Franklin's I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You.

And...that's about it. Feh.

Going to try to be a little less intense than I have been in my last two posts. All the same things are still bothering me, sure, but why prattle on about them?

Of course, that leaves me with absolutely nothing to talk about. I could write a bunch of random sentiments in an attempt to be witty and irreverant, but I don't even have the miscellaneous debris rattling around in me nogging to act on that notion.

Here's a random thought: Dave Chappelle is always the best guest on Conan O'Brien. Hands down. The only person who comes close (and very close, I'll concede) is Scott Thompson. If they put out a DVD of all the Conan appearances by those two (and they could fill out the rest of the DVD with all of the Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, "Bill Clinton" and maybe even the Martha Stewart appearances; Conan's show is the only place I've seen her not act like a total psycho), I would definitely by it. And hey! Just heard on Conan that Dave Chappelle is getting his own show on Comedy Central. Jackpot!

Another stray thought: for the first time in seven years, I'm going to miss Sonic Youth when they play in the D.C. area. I am seriously saddened by this turn of events. They play tomorrow night (technically tonight) at the 9:30 with Erase Errata and Mary Timony (*swoon*). With my luck, this will wind up being their last tour or something. At least they would be doing it on a high note. Murray Street totally fucking rocks.

Okay, one last thing, then I'm headed for bed. I know she's a bit of a ditz, and a gold-digger, and not very talented in any way, but I really, REALLY think the harshness in criticism of Anna Nicole Smith in the press and just about everywhere has been unfair. Particularly since most of it centers not around her lameass show but mostly around the size of her body. So she's put on some weight; big fucking deal. I still think she's gorgeous. Perhaps as dumb as a post, but I don't think she's lost anything in the looks department. If the majority of the comments were about the inanity of the show, or how vapid she appears to be, I'd have less of a problem. But most of the criticism is just people taking potshots at her because she's "fat" now. Feh! Idiots, the lot of them.

(Fun fact! The first Playboy magazine I ever bought featured Anna Nicole Smith! Perhaps my affection for her is also tinged with sentimentality.)

Charlie Daniels sitting in with the Max Weinberg Seven on Conan! Huzzah!

Bonne nuit.

Hey look! An update to this ridiculous blog within three days of the previous post! Huzzah!

I just wanted to use this space, at this time, to express this sentiment: falling out of love is one of the hardest things an attention monkey like myself can do. I've realized that I have an affliction commonly attributed to women (not entirely unfairly), and that affliction is the belief that I am incomplete somehow without a woman in my life. This really doesn't surprise me; ever since my first serious relationship, I've found that some way or another, I have moved from woman to woman just to fill the void. And it's not always romantic; it simply requires somebody I can care about that cares about me as well. And I've gone through ridiculous lengths and done ridiculous things to keep from being alone.

So while this is not really a revelation for me, what is kinda surprising is how it never gets any easier. I'm not proud at all to be cursed with this, but what can I do? I'm just....*counts on fingers*....one man.

Jesus tap-dancing Christ! What the fuck is wrong with me?!

Actually, the question is rhetorical. I know what is wrong with me. It's what the French call le depression. I think that's what they call it. Does it even matter? They're french! Feh!

Anyway, yeah, I'm finally caving into that fashionable web trend of whining about my life right here on the web. In my defense, this is about the only place I can talk candidly about what's going on without getting perplexed or worried looks. Why am I even prefacing my remarks? Who fucking reads this thing? (Okay, I can name 2 people who do, but they already know all of this--on some level, anyway--so it won't be news to them if they choose to swing by the blog.)

So, back to my point (see? there it goes...), I have, for some time now, been battling with depression, which in the last month has taken a turn for the worst. Not in the dire, get him on the hotline way...I'm much too queasy to do anything violent to myself or others, even if I do think about it. Anyway, it's been very crippling, and I'm not sure how to get past it. I am becoming incredibly lethargic (which is dangerous for someone who is already pathologically lazy) and have no interest in seeking solace in the world outside of my apartment. I've cut off my friends, who for a while now have been used to not seeing me as much because of financial reasons. So it's convenient to have that worked out ahead of time, so I don't have to deal with explaining to friends why I don't want to go out with them. This also has the added "benefit" of me not having to talk about my depression. I know that sounds puzzling, as everybody says that talking about it with someone--anyone--will help. And if I could afford it, I probably would consider therapy (even though I remain largely skeptical about how effective that would be for me. (I emphasize me to point out that I do believe therapy is effective, but only for the right people. Anyway...getting off that tangent...I don't like talking about it because I don't really have (m)any friends who have an experience dealing with this, and quite frankly, I have no interest in talking about my problems with people who can offer me nothing in terms of credible counsel. So...I suffer. I have been able to alleviate some of it by talking to my mother (who also suffers from depression) this past weekend. But even that (which eventually included a trip to see her and my niece and nephew) proved a temporary relief, mostly because I hate burdening my mother and worrying her (and she was very worried, as she's never really seen me this way) and I felt guilty, even though I know I shouldn't because I know she wants to help.

So ends my harrowing tale of sadness and lethargy. I probably will delete this entry in a day or two. But, I felt it necessary to type this out, probably for the small, therapeutic benefits of getting this out in the "open."

~fin~