Thursday, December 31, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #1

The Horrors-Primary Colours

When The Horrors debuted in 2006, they hit the airwaves amid a frenzy of UK-media hype. They were all black outfits and frizzy hair and Cramps-meets-Bauhaus spaz-outs. They were the goth band for the punk kids, wherever those kids may be. It was pretty heady stuff if you were into that sort of thing, but not a lot of people were. NME made Arctic Monkeys stars. The Horrors were swiftly brushed aside as also-rans.

Three years later, The Horrors returned with a new album and a (slightly) new sound. At first, Primary Colours sounds like an album made by a completely different band. Further listens unwinds the album a bit, however. This is definitely the same dark band; they’ve just wrapped themselves in some gauzy new threads and sounds.

Primary Colours starts with a swirl of bleak electronica that reminisces David Bowie’s Berlin Trilogy. 45 minutes later, the album ends with a full-band flurry that album producer Geoff Barrow borrowed from his band Portishead’s “The Rip.” In between, the touchstones are varied. Joy Division… The Cure… The Jesus And Mary Chain… My Bloody Valentine… Primary Colours is best described as “Gothic Shoegaze,” but even that moniker doesn’t do the album justice. The album is 2009 in a nutshell: it’s loud, nonsensical, and a little on the bleak side.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #2

Jarvis Cocker-Further Complications

Jarvis, Jarvis, Jarvis… An album about fucking and divorce, eh? You salty middle-aged sexpot, you! Lyrically, Further Complications hit me harder than just about any other album released in 2009. No, I’m not a salty middle-aged sexpot (though I might be salty.). but he just seems to get it and it’s nice to know that there’s another person out there in this big, mean world who does. Whether it’s ruminations on manwhores (“Homewrecker!”) or allegories about older men and dinosaurs (“Leftovers“), Further Complications never fails to deliver one sucker punch to the heart after another. And all these months after its release later, I just have to admit that “Hold Still” pretty much puts me into a panic attack every time I hear it.

The Best Albums Of 2009 #3

Arctic Monkeys-Humbug

I’ve heard a lot of grousing this year about how the Arctic’s third album is a “disappointment.” About how it’s too sludgy or slow or uncool or whatever. Well, yes, Humbug is sludgy and slow and uncool. It was produced by Queens Of The Stone Age’s Josh Homme. Sludgy and slow and uncool is kind of what he does. Which is why Humbug kind of transcends all trends this year. Arctic Monkeys basically made a low-down, dirty rock record in a year when the hip thing to do in rock music was to be psychedelic, low-fi, or twee (and in some cases, all three!). It took a lot of guts to throw all credibility out the window, but the results are pretty heady.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #4

Art Brut-Art Brut Vs. Satan

I just might be Art Brut’s Eddie Argos. It seems like every Art Brut song is about unfortunate mishaps with pills, comic books, self-embarrassment, or that band you really, really like. Their third album, the Frank Black-produced Art Brut Vs. Satan, is chock full of new stories that lovingly ape Jonathan Richman while waving the flag of The Replacements. Art Brut is one of those odd bands that continues to be widely ignored while still crafting utterly brilliant and shockingly honest records. So, I guess if my life is going to continue echoing anyone’s, it might as well be Eddie Argos‘, because I could do a hell of a lot worse.

The Best Albums Of 2009 #5

Franz Ferdinand-Tonight: Franz Ferdinand

You know that feeling you get at 2am when you’ve just been thrown out of the bar onto the cold, dark streets and you’re not really sure where your cell phone is? And you’re pretty sure you left your credit card at the bar, but the bouncer won’t let you back in because, apparently, you called his girlfriend a “crack whore loser?“ And you keep trying to open your car door, but you don’t remember if you drive a Ford Taurus or a Jeep Cherokee? But you know in the back your mind that you are absolutely the most fabulous person about to blow chunks on the street corner? That’s Tonight: Franz Ferdinand.

Monday, December 28, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #6

The Flaming Lips-Embryonic

I was just about to give up on The Flaming Lips after 2006’s At War With The Mystics. Not that the album was terrible by any stretch of the imagination. It just seemed like a typically flat post-success album. Everyone does it. The Flaming Lips’ return to the mainstream in the early aughties was a joyous celebration of a band that’s been doggedly persistent for the last few decades. So a bit of a letdown was expected. Now that it’s all out of the way, The Flaming Lips have returned with Embryonic, a rather shocking nosedive into psychedelic rock that spans two discs. Embryonic is a dense album that rewards upon multiple listens. It’s hard to find the commercial elements here. Every so often, there’s a “Silver Trembling Hands,” or a “Convinced Of The Hex.” But for the most part, Embryonic is chock-full of stuff no radio station is going to touch. The best part? They save the most commercial track, “Watching The Planets,” for the very last song on the second disc. Sheer brilliance!

Sunday, December 27, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #7

Phoenix-Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

“Hey, it’s that band with that song in that car commercial!” Ugh. Well, Phoenix is a French band that sounds a lot like The Strokes. This is either a really good or really bad thing. With some bands, sounding a lot like The Strokes comes off as a desperate stab at the mainstream. Here comes that car commercial! Thankfully, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix is just a great album of songs that transcend the “Stroke-abees” tag. You’ve probably heard these songs a million times before, but this time around, they’re fun and fresh and 2009. Or 1901. One of the two.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #8

Animal Collective-Merriweather Post Pavilion

I’m sure a good deal of you heard about this album this year, and probably a few of you bothered to download it. Maybe a few of those few actually listened to it all the way through. And of those few, I’m sure a few of you really got into it. I guess that’s the thing about Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion. Those of us who spent the time getting our heads around the album’s, well, music eccentricities, quickly discovered that it’s Animal Collective’s most “pop” record to date. Which, admittedly, can be like saying that Phillip Glass put out a pop record, but you can catch my drift. There’s something oddly liberating and fun about Merriweather Post Pavilion, which is something I have trouble saying about previous Animal Collective releases. Maybe that’s why so many people are talking about them this year.

Friday, December 25, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #9

A Place To Bury Strangers-Exploding Head

I just adore how loud and discordant A Place To Bury Strangers’ blend of space-rock and shoegaze is. Their second album, Exploding Head, will positively blow out your eardrums at high volumes. True story: I was listening to the record on my turntable quite loudly a while back and, apparently, missed: an ambulance racing down my street, my phone ringing off the hook, someone yelling at my front door, and my cats meowing at me, wondering why the attention I used to give them is now bestowed on some garage trio from New York.

The Best Albums Of 2009 #10

Depeche Mode-Sounds Of The Universe

“Oh, hai, Depeche Mode! Still awesome?”



Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #11

Fever Ray-Fever Ray

It’s weird to think that brother-sister duo The Knife’s Silent Shout came out in 2006, because it still feels like it happened five seconds ago. Silent Shout is an album so groundbreaking that it’s nearly impossible to put into a box and put away. That we’re in 2009 now and presented with Fever Ray feels like icing on the cake. “I’m still not over Silent Shout and you give me this?!?” Fever Ray is essentially Karin Andersson’s solo debut, and it strips some of the punch and vigor from The Knife in favor of moodiness and quietude. Where The Knife could be creepy at times, Fever Ray is creepy all the time. Andersson’s voice sounds like it’s coming out from under your bed to drag you off to who knows where. Who knew Sweeden was so dark?

Saturday, December 19, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #12

Bear In Heaven-Beast Rest Forth Mouth

Sometimes the best albums just sneak up on you, completely unexpected. I had no clue what I was getting into when I downloaded Bear In Heaven’s “Lovesick Teenagers.” All I was told was that it was brilliant and exactly the sort of thing that someone like me would like (Oh, where have we been burned in that department before?). What I heard was a single that mixed pop, new wave, darkwave, and just about everything else at one point or another. It’s so easy to hear the familiar in Beast Rest Forth Mouth, but difficult to really pinpoint exactly who you’re hearing. There’s definitely some Depeche Mode there. Is that some Nitzer Ebb influence? Can? Possibly some Animal Collective? It’s a pretty enticing mix. Beast Rest Forth Mouth pulls off the neat trick of being comfortable and familiar without sounding like too much of a rip-off.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #13

The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart-The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart

Much like the dozens of other bands the critical music elite have told you to like this year, The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart can come off as pretty easy to pass up. Jangly guitars, melancholy lyrics, off key vocals, etc… It‘s the kind of stuff that makes Pitchfork editors drool and just about everyone else say, “Pass.” But there really is something about the band’s self-titled debut. It took just one listen of “This Love Is Fucking Right!” to get me on board (“In a dark room we can do just what we like/You're my sister, and this love is fucking right.”).

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #14

The Raveonettes-In And Out Of Control

In the last two years, The Raveonettes have released three EP’s (Sometimes They Drop By, Beauty Dies, and Wishing You A Rave Christmas) and two long-players, Lust Lust Lust and In And Out Of Control. And, to be perfectly honest, these releases have contained some of the band’s best work. It seems like leaving the majors for an indie label (the polite way of saying “dropped”) has paid off for the Danish duo of Sharin Foo and Sune Rose Wagner. I wasn’t really expecting much out of In And Out Of Control, considering how quickly it came after Lust Lust Lust, but I was pleasantly surprised this time out. The edges are a bit softer and there’s nothing as mind-boggling awesome as “Dead Sound” or “Aly Walk With Me,” but it’s still a damned good album.

The Best Albums Of 2009 #15

Sonic Youth-The Eternal

I was on a road trip with a co-worker this past summer and I had brought along a handful of CD’s for the ride, one of them being Sonic Youth’s 16th album, The Eternal. As I was driving, my rather young passenger seemed to really be getting into it…

Co-worker: “Who is this?”
Me: “Oh, it’s Sonic Youth.”
Co-worker: “Never heard of them. Are they new?”
Me: “Um, no. They’re a few years away from they’re 30th anniversary.”
Co-worker: “No way! You’re lying!”
Me: “Um…”
Co-worker: “They sound new. They must be new…”

The co-worker started looking through the album art in an attempt to find proof that I was lying, I suppose.

Co-worker: “There’s no way these guys are old…”

Ah, to be Sonic Youth…

Sunday, December 13, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #16

Them Crooked Vultures-Them Crooked Vultures

I suppose a band featuring Queens Of The Stone Age’s Josh Homme, Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl, and Led Zeppelin’s John Paul Jones isn’t exactly the most far-fetched-sounding thing ever. As far as musical super-groups go, Them Crooked Vultures falls into the “obvious” category. The band sounds like Queens Of The Stone Age acting like a Led Zeppelin cover band, with Grohl left playing catch-up to Jones’ bass hooks. Regardless of whatever it is, it works. Them Crooked Vultures is a highly enjoyable bit of naval gazing.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #17

…And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead-The Century Of Self

…And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead has been known for years for their live shows, where debauchery and instrument destruction is the norm. Yet, the one time I saw them in LA, back in 2002, they seemed to despise their audience. Perhaps it was because they were feeling somewhat restrained by their record deal with Interscope. Perhaps they’re just dicks. Regardless, it’s been years since those days of Interscope trying to make something palatable out of …Trail Of Dead’s noise. Now freed from major label interference, the band can get back to resurrecting its image. The Century Of Self is a good start. It’s easily their best record since 2002’s Source Tags & Codes

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #18

Asobi Seksu-Hush

I, for one, have really enjoyed the resurgence of shoegaze and dreampop in popular music the past few years. Asobi Seksu are a band that has sort of veered between the two genres willy-nilly. Their latest, Hush, is a little bit more in the dreampop department, evoking the criminally underrated British group Lush. Hush is a great rainy-day album; something you can put on, curl up by the space heater, and doze to. Very few bands could take pleasure in something like that; a listener falling asleep to your album. But for a dreampop group, it’s high praise indeed.

Monday, December 7, 2009

The Best Albums Of 2009 #19

Tom Waits-Glitter And Doom

Yeah, I know. It’s a live album. But it’s a live album that evokes an extreme reaction with me. Listening to Glitter And Doom makes me severely pissed off, mostly because it‘s a snapshot of a tour that I‘m positively miserable for missing. Tom Waits played a mere thirteen shows in North America last year, and the closest one to me was in Phoenix. I do not live near Phoenix. Thus, I’m left with Glitter And Doom, a collection primarily culled from the time period between 1992’s Bone Machine and 2004’s Real Gone. The last few decades have shown Waits to be one of the few true artists left from the singer-songwriters of his generation. Glitter And Doom just piles more proof on top of that.

The Best Albums Of 2009 #20

Julien-K-Death To Analog

I really, really should hate Death To Analog, Julien-K’s first and, likely, only album (I'm only being a snarky asshole. I really don't own a crystal ball). It’s a side-project for Orgy, for Christ’s sake! But for some reason, it didn’t make me throw up the first time I listened to it. Then, a funny thing happened… I actually started to enjoy the album’s KMFDM-meets-Depeche Mode sound. I even wound up seeing them live twice this year. I have lost any shred of indie cred I had with this one. I am going to jail and being flogged by Ian Mackaye until I scream Pavement lyrics. Kim Gordon sends me hate mail now. *sigh*

My 13 Favorite Music Videos Of 2009

In no particular order…

Fever Ray-”Stranger Than Kindness”

Yeah Yeah Yeahs-”Heads Will Roll”

Yeah Yeah Yeahs "Heads Will Roll"

Yeah Yeah Yeahs | MySpace Music Videos

The Dead Weather-”Treat Me Like Your Mother”

The Saturday Knights-”Count It Off”

Doves-”Kingdom Of Rust”

Doves - Kingdom of Rust

doves | MySpace Music Videos


Depeche Mode-”Wrong”

Depeche Mode - "Wrong" (official music video)

Depeche Mode | MySpace Music Videos

Franz Ferdinand-”Can’t Stop Feeling”

The Flaming Lips-”Watching The Planets” (NSFW!)

Lady GaGa-”Bad Romance”


Jarvis Cocker-”Further Complications”

The Horrors-”Mirror‘s Image”

Friday, October 23, 2009

Instant Happiness

I deleted my Twitter account today. Admittedly, a year-and-a-half after starting the thing, I was no longer enjoying it. Well, maybe I haven't been enjoying it for a while before that...

I can credit Twitter with introducing me to a fantastic bunch of people, from Betheboy and the Slackmistress to Heather Harris and Michael Holmes, amongst many, many others. But the fun ended a long time ago. Maybe it's entropy? Maybe it's my awkward experiences with "Twitter stalkers?" Maybe it's fatigue from hearing what everyone ate for breakfast?

Who knows? But I feel a certain release from eliminating Twitter from my life. It's just one less thing I have to pretend I care about. It's one less thing to waste time doing when I should be sleeping. You know, like blogging? ;)

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Excerpt 19

She and I don’t talk too terribly much anymore. It’s been nothing but awkward since we fought for that first time. I guess I figured that we’d survive one measly fight, considering how well we got along otherwise. But we didn’t survive that one fight. Any friendship we had appeared to die.

And, of course, it was all over a boy. Oh, not in the way you may think. Did I find myself in the midst of a “bromance?” I think I did. “I love you, bro. You and me mean more than any girl. I’d do anything for you.” Boys lie.

When it happened, he apologized. I accepted. And I essentially told them both, “Do what you will.” I think they both blamed me regardless. I tried to “be the bigger person” and “get over it.” And, honestly, I did. I guess maybe I’ve grown up a little. Maybe I’ve learned that I can’t have what I want.

He’s pretty much out of the picture these days. We’ve all sort of fallen out of touch with each other. When someone mentions him these days, I stifle a little laugh. It’s amazing how much impact two people I’ve barely known can have on my life. And just how quickly those people can slide back out.

When she and I do see each other these days, we talk about the strangest things. We don’t talk about the weather, or movies, or politics. We talk about hair. We talk about bruises. We talk about cats. It’s like we’re still what we once were. Only, a faint memory… not the real thing.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Portland Oregon And Sloe Gin Fizz

I suppose that if I’d have made a list of things I expected to do in 2009, spending a few days in Portland, Oregon wouldn’t have been on it. Yet, somehow, I found myself in Portland this weekend. That’s just sort of how this year has been for me. I’ve done a lot of things… I’ve been to a lot of unexpected places…

Portland is a pretty cool place. It’s a large city that feels like a small town. There’s no denying that there are a lot of people there. Yet everyone acts as if they know you. It’s so… unassuming.

Admittedly, there is no real story here. I got on a plane. I discovered that Portishead is the best flight soundtrack ever. I went to Portland. I came home. I was not assaulted by a cadre of pistol-wielding nuns. I did not drink a fifth of whiskey and stumble into the mayor's residence to play Twister. I did not feel embraced. I did not feel missed. But I went, nonetheless.

Thursday, October 1, 2009


Looking out my bedroom window at this hour, I still can’t see a damned thing. I fell asleep around 6pm last night and woke up just a few minutes ago. This isn’t anything close to a regular sleep schedule for me. It’s just how things go. I sort of thought that moving to overnight work hours would automatically mean I slept during the day, 7 days a week. Well, it doesn’t mean that whatsoever.

And I think the sudden appearance of fall in my neck of the woods has caused me to be even more sleepy. I’m taking lots of naps. I’m sleeping at odd hours. The cooler weather brings back the fun of cuddling with my cats under a load of blankets. I’m missing phone calls, text messages, etc and it’s pissing people off (*poke*).

And, ultimately, I don’t really mind. It seems like the best way to find myself was to absolutely lose myself. I’m living in my own little universe these days. It’s quite fun, actually.

And I’m sure that’ll elicit all sorts of opinion, both good and bad. But it doesn’t really matter. One thing that irritates me about this blog is that it only displays a few facets of my personality. I mean, reading this blog gives someone a 2-D version of what I’m like. Which is often how I wind up with creepy, awful, manatee-like stalkers obsessing over my every move.

Seriously, kids, it’s not worth it.

Go outside. Read a book. Listen to a record.

And enjoy what’s to come…

Friday, August 21, 2009

Fuck You

I may be a "self-pitying dramaqueen," but at least I'm not an anonymous pussy.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

No More August

...things turned awful today. Fuck August. No more personal growth. No more love. No more nothing. Later...

Monday, August 10, 2009

August 10th

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

Today is the last day I spend with the patient I’ve had for the last two and a half months. I was his primary rehabilitation assistant his entire stay at my company’s apartments, so we spent more than ample time together. These last few months have been frustrating, hilarious, dangerous, infuriating, difficult, and enriching, to say the least. He’s going home a different person. So am I.

Last night, I took him to a baseball game at the local ballpark. The experience was a microcosm of my days with him. Between cracking inappropriate jokes directed at other patients and freaking out because I referred to his hot dog wiener as, well, a wiener, he spent time arguing with me about the minutiae of the experience and laughing his ass off.

Two and a half months ago, I could never have said that I was going to miss him. But I am. At 11:30 tonight, I’m probably going to be feeling more than a little maudlin. And knowing him, he’s probably going to call me a “dildohead” or a “prick” or a “fucking retard” and scream at me to leave the room at around 11:25. That’s probably the most apropos way to spend our last evening together, too.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

August 9th

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

The goal for today is to decrease my giving a fuck by at least 20%. Also, I might write a poem.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

August 8th

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

Yeah, that was a terrible idea. I survived, though. I did not smoke a single cigarette yesterday. Still haven't today. Mostly I missed going through the motions of smoking a cigarette. I didn't quite know what to do with my hands. Especially on a day where I felt completely miserable to begin with. The smoke would have been a comfort, on a day where I needed the hug. Perhaps the key is cutting back, like with my drinking. If I smoke 4-5 a day, instead of a whole pack, I might be able to afford a trip a week to the dollar store. *cough*

Honestly, I don't really have a goal for today. It's hard to come up with stuff on days I'm working. It's hard to get out and do culturally enriching things when I'm working most of the day. So, I think I'll just make things simple. I will make it a good night at work for my patient. I will try to not let the bad of this week get to me. And, hey, maybe it's time to let you guys in on the action.

What exactly do you want to see me do this month? Is there some personally-enriching activity or action you'd like to see me perform? Let me know. I just might do a few of those things...

Friday, August 7, 2009

August 7th

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

It turns out that I’m terrible at pool. Drinking before I got there wasn’t much help. But I did have fun hanging out and making a fool out of myself. And I wasn’t even the one who fell off a stool!

So what am I up to today? It’s a simple one. I stopped smoking. The plan is to not smoke a single cigarette today and see if I can make it. If I can make it through today, maybe I can make it through tomorrow. And the day after. Then, who knows? Maybe I’ll be President?

Why am I doing this? The things are expensive, pure and simple. I work for peanuts and the local Fastrip doesn’t take peanut shells in exchange for cigarettes. If I took cigarettes out of my budget, I’d be a Dollar Menunaire. Or something.

Today’s adventure is probably a terrible idea. You see, I’ve had to do all sort of stressful things already this morning, spending some time at the local courthouse and finding out that I’m not having my fees waived for the divorce. Suddenly, I have ten days to come up with $355. But I didn’t crack. I might crack at midnight tonight. But I won’t crack today. And who knows? Maybe this will stick.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

August 6th

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

Loma Linda... It kind of reminds me of Bakersfield, but smaller and less impressive. I think that pretty much sums it up. It's in the San Bernardino area, a part of southern California that does next to nothing for me. Ghetto. Mall. Ghetto. Starbucks. Ghetto. Pho. Ghetto. Bigger mall. Oh, and I did see a Vietnamese joint called A Dong Restaurant. Heh. Why leave home? I guess to remind me that home's not so bad. At least I know exactly where to get a stiff drink and some decent Carribbean food. That's what home is to me.

Today's theme is new experiences. Tonight, I will go play pool with some co-workers. Yes, pool. I have never in my life had any desire to "shoot pool." I still don't, to be perfectly honest. But one never knows when something will be fun, and at least this pool hall serves copious amounts of beer. If the pool fails, there's still booze. And I guess the overall idea is to go out and see what the night brings me. Usually, it's nothing but a mild buzz and some people staring at me. Maybe tonight will be different...

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

August 5th

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

It went well and you’ll never know. And that’s pretty fun.

The goal for August 5th was somewhat thrust upon me by my job. I was supposed to be off, but instead I’m driving a patient to Loma Linda for a doctor’s appointment and back. So, I guess the goal for today is to travel somewhere new. I’ve never been to Loma Linda. I don’t even really know where it is. I really don’t care. I love going new places, no matter how wondrous or terrible. The important part is to add a piece of vocabulary to my subconscious. By the end of the day, I will have impressions and memories of someplace new. And that’s pretty cool…

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

August 4th

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

If I learned anything yesterday, it’s that a lot of people are uncomfortable with totally random compliments. The sheer number of “Um… thanks?” I received probably outnumbered the actually positive responses. I guess maybe I do take people for granted if they’re so surprised that I actually give a crap about them.

So, what’s on the menu for today? Well, I can’t really tell you. It might ruin the surprise. You see, I’m going to do something ridiculously nice for someone. Something that’s going to make their day friggin’ wonderful. And no one’s going to know that I did it. I guess it’s one of those “Random Acts Of Kindness.” Only, I won’t be doing it for attention. I won’t be doing it to make that person owe me emotionally in any way. No one will ever know who did it. And I think that’ll be pretty fun.

Monday, August 3, 2009

August 3rd

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

If that doesn’t tell you how day two’s experiment went, I don’t know what will. I had a headache all day. I felt tired and miserable. I had mild shakes. Yikes, you’d think I’d quit something really important. Anyway, I got through it without ripping too many people’s heads off. I’m looking forward to a gigantic iced coffee tomorrow. Like, seriously gigantic. I’m going to fill a bathtub with coffee and swim in it.

So, what to do for August 3rd? The plan is to spend the day letting everyone in my life know exactly what they mean to me. I think we (and by we, I mean me especially... remember, I'm selfish) tend to take our loved ones for granted, so I’m going to break that cycle and send a little love around the globe. In other words, expect gushy Michael tomorrow. Ew…

Sunday, August 2, 2009

August 2nd

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

In terms of yesterday’s goal of culturally enriching my life, I think I pretty much succeeded. It was a pretty important experience for my patient and I really think I got a better appreciation for the local gay community. Even if I did feel at times like I was an interloper.

I even got a spiffy “Marriage Equality USA” sticker to wear for the rest of the day:

Not surprisingly, I spent the rest of the night at work fielding the ever-present, “Are you gay?” questions. The answer is, “No.” That’s tough for some people to rationalize. I’m a lot of things. Eccentric. Hairy. Mischievous. One thing I am not? Attracted to men. Sorry.

I also got to go bowling, something I haven’t done since I was a little kid. So, go me!

So what’s on tap for August 2nd? Well, one thing I noticed about today was that I barely ate anything. Instead, I existed on a toxic diet of coffee and cigarettes. Oddly enough, I felt sharp and energized all day. Er, maybe that’s not so odd.

But it got me thinking about my addiction to caffeine. I could spend an entire day drinking coffee and diet Pepsi and be pretty pleased with myself. But what would happen if I didn’t get my caffeine? Would I turn into a cave troll, eating innocents who happen to stumble into my proximity? Or would I somehow survive? I guess I’ll just have to try it and see what happens.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

August 1st

(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)

I think I've managed to make it pretty apparent here and elsewhere that I support gay causes. Equal rights for everyone is probably my biggest concern on a social level, so I tend to run my mouth every time I get a chance about it.

So, with that in mind, I'll be doing something rather special today at work. I will be going along with one of my bosses to take one of my patients to see a documentary on the Stonewall Riots.

This patient, who shall remain nameless, is, in effect, closeted. Despite his family and friends being in the know about his sexuality, he still refuses to actually admit that he's gay.

That's his choice and I respect that. But the hope today is that maybe he'll learn something from watching the documentary. Living in fear, to me, means you're not living. I hope today helps him somewhat. Or, at the very least, feel comfortable being in a room with like-minded individuals for a few hours.

Friday, July 31, 2009

I Hate July. Let's Make This About August.

Okay, so, where the fuck have I been lately? My blog is starting to resemble a haunted mansion, filled with cobwebs and homeless drunks. Oh, er, wait a minute. That’s what my blog was this entire time.

What have we missed?

Well, I have actually managed to make some improvements in my life the last 31 days, in spite of some rather harsh personal setbacks. Some so harsh that I don’t really want to get into them in detail. What about the good?

* I’ve managed to return to being a casual drinker. I only drank 8 days out of the month, which is huge, considering that I normally would have drank 25-31 days out the month. That’s not to say that I was a drunk every single one of those days, but it did get to the point where I would need at least one drink a day to get through. I’ve always been really good when I have my son with me, either not drinking at all or making do with one beer with dinner or something. But I do realize that I was heading down a really ugly path, drinking my crazy away. Drinking doesn’t make my depression go away. It just delays the inevitable. I’ve been lucky in that I haven’t done anything that’s harmed anyone other than myself. And even in that case, I haven’t harmed myself in any great way. If anything, I’ve just embarrassed myself a few times too many (Sorry, pretty girl from Wasco. Really. Sorry.). So, the goal is be a casual drinker again. A social drinker. I’m not quitting altogether. Just trying to be responsible or something.

* I saw Jarvis Cocker in LA! I know that doesn’t mean anything to most of you, but seeing Jarvis Cocker again was like getting a handjob and going to church, all at once. Really. It’s something I won’t soon forget.

* I’ve worked a ridiculous amount this month. So much so that people are starting to take notice. As I’ve mentioned, I was named Employee Of The Month. And, well, there’s other news soon, if you can wait.

* I filed divorce papers. It was completely exhilarating and I have no real idea why. It just felt right. I left the courthouse laughing. There are still a lot of hoops to jump through. Additional papers to be filed. Hearings to be heard. But I’m on my way to something different. Something new. We’ll see what that something is.

So, where does that leave me? The month of August looms large on the calendar. It’s going to be a long, hot, humid month. But it’s also a month wherein I want to improve myself personally. I want it to be the best month ever. I want it to me the month where I shine. The month where I matter.

And I plan on documenting as much as I can.

So, starting tomorrow, I will be posting every single day for the rest of August. I will do something every day that better my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.

No excuses. No looking back.

Monday, July 13, 2009


* I'm starting on my divorce papers and filing them sometime this week.

* I've decided on a tattoo. I don't know when I'm going to get it. But I'm going to get it.

* I'm toying with the idea of quitting smoking.

* I'm working on not drinking every day.

* I'm clinging to the people who've loved and supported me for ages and rejecting those who don't. Or who can't.

* I'm getting health insurance for the first time in ages, starting August 1st.

* I am going to survive.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Good Fortune

I went out for Chinese food with a friend for her birthday recently. After gorging on General Tso's chicken and making fun of waiters for an hour, we got our fortune cookies. Hers was pretty bland. Mine was something else entirely.


Excerpt 18

As awful as the last year and a half has been for me, there have been a small handful of shining moments that have gotten me through. My time with you definitely counts amongst those shining moments.

I really haven’t been able to put my finger on it. There’s just something about being around you that lifts my spirits. I have fun with you. I get those butterflies in my stomach that little kids get when they have their first crush. You actually make me happy.

But there is no chance of ever being with you. You were pretty upfront about that. What you wanted out of me was perhaps something I wasn’t ready for. Okay, yeah, I can probably admit that “perhaps” should read “definitely.”

You said that you weren’t ready for a relationship at the moment. And that you couldn’t really see yourself dating me anyway.

But still, we went out. Things got heated, every time. The last time, things didn’t go so well. I had been drinking a lot. I failed in the bedroom. It’s not something any guy really wants to admit, but it’s true. I can blame it on the alcohol. I can blame in something in my subconscious. Whatever the reason, I don’t know for sure.

But it was embarrassing. I felt terrible about it. You were cool about everything, though. But things are certainly different between us now.

I never really understood how someone as astonishingly beautiful as you could want to spend time around me. You said that I turned you on. You don’t really say much of anything to me anymore.

There’s a new guy in your life. You’re happy, which I love seeing. But there’s a huge chunk of my heart that just aches when I hear about it. I know that guy could never have been me. I’m not good enough for you. You said that wasn’t true. But a self-fulfilling prophesy is what I am. Where are you now? And where am I? The truth always comes out in the end.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

None Too Subtle Seething

* Stop calling me. Stop texting me. I don't want to know you anymore. Everytime my life falls apart, you disappear. Frankly, I can't do this anymore.

* That goes for you, too.

* You don't own me. You never did. And you never wanted to accept what I had to offer, so stop getting all pissy any time I talk about a girl who isn't you. I'm allowed to move on. I'm allowed to go with other women. And to be perfectly honest, we never had a relationship in the first place, so what are you so butt-hurt about?

* Stop following me everywhere I go. Because of you, I had to privatize my Brightkite account. Thanks a lot, you crazy bitch.

* I don't care that you know people. No one does. So stop perseverating on how many times you fucked so and so and how you ran into so and so at whatever stupid fucking function you were at. No one is impressed.

* Stop being a creepy pervert, you creepy pervert. Memory lapses are not an excuse!

* Could you, in the future, please refrain from winking at me every five seconds? It's, ah, disconcerting.

* Why are you so terrified of commitment? I have to walk on eggshells every time I'm around you, lest you get freaked out and never talk to me again. And you wonder why I'm so timid about "making a move?"

* What's with all the falling for butt-ugly guys who are as interesting as Saw V and ignoring everyone else in your life? It's getting old and you're too fucking beautiful for that.

* Are you into me or not? These occasional bouts of flirting and subversive wordplay have me utterly confused. I've liked you for a long time. Show me the real you. Please.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

I Swear... the big, fluffy, white cat in the sky that I haven't forgotten about this blog.

My computer is still dead. I'm currently working on resurrecting it using my mad zombie skillz.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

The Lodger In Us All

(My computer is currently busted for unknown reasons, so I've been using my old tower for the last few days. In the process, I've found a replication of an old David Bowie website I used to run on Geocities. I ran the site, Repetition, for several years until a lack of contributions and interest sent it into the web graveyard. Over the next week or so, I'm going to be reprinting some of my articles from that site. I hope you enjoy!)

David Bowie's 1979 album, Lodger, was his third and final "Berlin" collaboration (the trio of albums recorded in Berlin) with Roxy Music's Brian Eno. It was also an album whose "eclecticism and experimentation" (Buckley, David, p. 69-70) made it an artistic success, but a commercial failure. Bowie's returning lust for fame ultimately clashed with Eno's ideologies and Lodger wound up sounding like two different albums playing at the same time, which was probably why the album was so original. Muddled somewhere in the layers of sound was a message, however. For those who listened closely, Lodger is actually an amazing commentary on the human condition.

Longtime Bowie watcher David Buckley noted a few important conceptual ideas about the first half of Lodger (p. 70). Bowie uses his own experiences in life to cover a subject understood by many on "Move On." The idea that "somewhere, someone's calling me" is one that many people have throughout their lives. In fictionalized form, Bowie describes the adventures of "a traveling man," possibly commenting on his own desire to travel around the world. However, closer inspection reveals that wanderlust was only half the story of Lodger. "Fantastic Voyage" makes a few expressions about the roles of men in society in the lines "it's a moving world, but that's no reason to shoot some of those missiles. Think of us as fatherless scum; it won't be forgotten. 'Cause we'll never say anything nice again, will we?" Bowie continues in that vein, commenting on how women feel around men when he states "we're learning to live with somebody's depression." Through this, Bowie tries to reach out to a female audience that had been alienated by the forbidding timbres of the first two "Berlin" albums (Low and "Heroes"). A few females weren't the only ones alienated by Bowie in the late 70s, unfortunately.

Further into side one, a stance against racism (one that was surprising to some, given the accusations of racism that forced him into hiding in Berlin in the late 70s) can be seen in the Burroughsian cut and paste lines of "Red Sails" ("do you remember we another person, green and black and red and so scared. Graffiti on the wall keep us all in tune; bringing us all back home.") It isn't quite certain why Bowie would want to hide such a statement, especially with the press after him for being a racist. Bowie's fan base had dwindled due to careless acts on his part and it would have made perfect sense to bring those he had alienated previously back into the fold. Whatever the reason, the statement is still there and visible for those who look for it. Lodger's second side, however, alters those statements towards the gloomy for a much darker look at life.

Side two of Lodger reveals what Buckley called a critique on "Anglo-American consumer society" (p. 70); the songs prove that he's not far off. "Red Money" has a very obvious analytical spin to it ("project canceled, tumbling central, red money"), but it's narrow scope doesn't mean much to most people. Some of the songs, however, are universal in their scope. Jon Savage called "D.J." an "amusing and sharp look at the fear of instant obsolescence that runs through all media" (p. 161). Using sharp characterization, Bowie lets "D.J.'s" protagonist speak his mind about his reasons for not being fired ("I am a D.J., I am what I play. I got believers, believing me."). A few songs later, however, the commentary turns much more pessimistic.

Bowie reaffirms "Fantastic Voyage's" theme of the roles that men play later in the album (this time with a blue-collar twist) on "Repetition," a droning, but focused review of a wife-beating worker ("well Johnny is a man and he's bigger than her. I guess the bruises won't show if she wears long sleeves."). Bowie is at his most direct here, playing a sort of detached observer callously reviewing the sadness of Johnny and how he takes it out on his wife; occasionally he breaks his silence and cautions, "don't hit her." In fact, it would be rather valid to theorize that the singer could be a detached form of either Johnny or his wife. "Repetition" is one of the few instances in Lodger where Bowie's hidden messages are overtly evident. Another is the "seedy angel of death" in "Look Back In Anger" that makes a case against the trivialization of religion and the fear that people have of leaving things undone in this world (Buckley, David. p. 71). Both "Repetition" and "Look Back In Anger" shine due to their bluntness, but the album as a whole doesn't make things as clear.

Lodger hides its commentary for obvious reasons. Most people don't like having a mirror put up to their own personalities. These themes of personal alienation and social fanaticism are likely reasons why the album is titled Lodger. We are all lodgers in some way or another in our lives. Be it at work or at home, everyone has a certain level of fear of being alienated. Bowie's Lodger obliquely shows that that fear is what makes us so alienated in the first place.
Works cited:

Buckley, David. The Complete Guide To The Music Of David Bowie. New York: Omnibus Press, 1996.

Thomson, Elizabeth and Gutman, David, Editors. The Bowie Companion. New York: Da Capo Press, 1996.

© Feb 5, 1998 Michael A. Liebel

Saturday, June 13, 2009


I came to grips with the fact that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life quite a long time ago. Yeah, every once in a while I forget and I hold out hope for something good in my life for five minutes, but then reality slaps me in the face and I remember.

I’m broken. And girls can smell that a mile away.

I don’t write this as a way to get attention. There’s really nothing than can be said to comfort me at this point. Those of you who know me well know just how little I believe it when I’m complimented. I’m just not built that way. I really just write this as a way of reminding myself of how things are.

A little over a year ago, I realized that there was no possible way of moving on with my life. Pretty much any chance I had of starting over was eliminated because of my own stupidity, my own follies.

Things have changed since then, don’t get me wrong. I have a different job, my outlook is certainly different. I look different than before. I act a bit different. All in all, I’m a better person now than I’ve ever been in the past. There’s an honesty to me that wasn’t there before. An openness, too. People who’ve met me in the last year or so think I’m a really nice guy (Except for that one crazy girl, but who cares what she thinks? She‘s crazier than I am!). You couldn’t always say that before.

Yet, I’m still stuck at square one. There’s really nowhere else to go beyond square one. I’m ruined financially and emotionally; my sanity is questionable at best. There’s literally no way of getting out of it. There’s no plan. I’m just existing at this point. I look towards the next vodka tonic. The next concert. The next day off to spend with my son.

I can throw whatever blame I want at a certain ex of mine, but the majority of it really does lie at my feet. I did this to myself. And I allowed myself to be hurt. So, I really don’t expect anyone to feel sorry for me. I just don’t deserve that.

So, I’m alone for the long haul. I stink of failure and vodka and cigarettes. And even if someone manages to get past those things and wants to be with me, they’ll figure out just how stuck I am in short order. I’m never moving from square one. This is my fate. This is the punishment I deserve.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Dancing To The Coral

I’ve just been relaxing for the most part today, listening to LP’s on my record player. When I put on The Coral earlier, Sebastian ran into the room and started dancing. He never really stopped. I had no idea he was so into The Coral.

Regardless, I caught a little clip of him dancing to “Jacqueline” and attempting to sing along…

Sebastian Dancing To The Coral

Thursday, June 11, 2009

True Story, Swear To God

Last weekend. The scene: my bedroom. Simon is sprawled out on my bed. Sebastian enters the room, approaches Simon, and says…

“Hello, Simon! What you doing, cat?”

Later, I hear squealing coming from Sebastian’s room. I check up on him. He holds up his stuffed Bobcat and says…

“Not me! Bob!”

Toddlers are bomb.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Excerpt 17 (June 24th, 2008. A Death Star So Long Ago)

I was drunk last night. And there were images flickering in my head. It was M, and she was over me, naked and lustful. She’s growling, clawing at my chest. Our hips grind together. She continues to growl. I fucking love it. These were times when the rest of the world didn‘t matter…

The sad part of everything is that I do fully understand my dual nature. 75% of the time, I understand my feelings. I don’t want to die. I realize that not everything is about me. I understand that there is more going on. He/she didn’t hurt me because he/she directly wanted to hurt me. I get that there are layers to that. It’s the other 25% of the time when my emotions take over and I want to kill myself because she left me or she never wants to be with me or he’s hurting me again. During those times, I can’t rationalize my behavior. I’m taken over by the pure feeling of it all. They’ve hurt me, and now I want to hurt myself.

When I’m rational, I apologize. I know for a fact that S can attest to that. She’s done nothing wrong to me. Over the years, she’s been such a good friend. She’s put up with a lot of my bullshit. And I take so much personally with her. If I don’t hear from her, I agonize over it because I’m an idiot. I’ve begged at her feet. I’ve screamed at her. I’ve ignored her. I really have no idea how she puts up with someone like me. I swear, someone with a dartboard could do as good a job dealing with my crap. I’m all over the place. No wonder my relationships end so badly.

I hid so much of this from M. She really has no idea. She says I’m crazy, but it’s not that I’m crazy. I just FEEL so much. I’m an emotional person by nature. And I let it get to me. I think that she oversimplified me. She had no idea what kind of impact leaving would have on me. Not that I think things would be any better had she actually known. In fact, she might have treated me worse.

She left me on April Fool’s Day. Very apropos. You know the story. What you don’t know is what I did a week later. I guess that’s the idea. Trying to drown myself in a pool wasn’t a cry for attention. It’s why I never mentioned it before. In fact, I’m a little embarrassed for failing. I can’t even do that right. One week after M left me, I got drunk. I had a lot of rum lying around to finish. I really shouldn’t have been drinking that much.

I was still confused. I still am, I guess. I didn’t understand why she left. Why she had hurt me. Why she still seems to gain self-satisfaction in watching me tumble and twirl to the floor. Drunk, I finished off half a bottle of sleeping pills and passed out in the living room, thankful that my life was all over. I woke up in a pile of my own vomit. My overindulgences had saved me.

After this attempt, and the attempt at the pool party, I was ashamed of myself. I understood how stupid it was to try and kill myself. I just didn’t know at the time I was swallowing pill after pill. And it goes in that cycle. I can spend most of the day just fine. And then two hours at night will send me over the edge. Sometimes all it takes is a flickering image in my head.

Monday, June 8, 2009

I'll Tumbl For Ya

Earlier this year, I started a Tumblr account that I barely use these days, seeing as how I need to focus most of my energies on working and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. The other day, I got an e-mail from Tumblr tech support, regarding a copyright issue. The tech guy who contacted me actually forwarded the e-mail he got from the photographer.

Hi Marc,

I am contacting you to inform you that one of your members,, is using and allowing downloads of a photograph of Ute Lemper that I own the copyright to without giving me credit.  The press page for Ute Lemper's site where he downloaded the image requires the user to credit the photographer  Please contact this individual to ask him to post my credit © or remove the image from his page. Please find atttached a copy of the image that I had downloaded from his page today. Thank you for your assistance

Fran Janik

This is all fine and good. Artists need to protect their work and I fully understand that. What got me is that this photographer is so out-of-work/bored that he was trolling the internet for illegal use of his photos. Apparently, there aren’t enough weddings to shoot in Vermont at the moment.

And, I’m apparently bored enough to complain about it.

"Using and allowing downloads?" Yes, how insidious of me. That free trade of information that is the internet is my medium for profiting on the hard work of unsuspecting photographers. Remind me to credit Mr. Hankey next time I go to the bathroom. I want to make sure his intellectual properties are preserved.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

The Crazies

I abhor nights like this one. It’s one of those nights where the thoughts swirling around in my head are threatening to take over and push me over the edge. It’s like a panic attack mixed with depression, served with a side of paranoia. I’m sure someone with far more in the way of qualifications has a proper term for it. I usually just call it “the crazies.”

When I’m alone and having “the crazies,” I tend to drink a lot, which isn’t exactly the answer to my problems. But it does have the effect of keeping me from doing something really stupid. And if you can think of things that are really stupid beyond drunk dialing, texting, driving, getting kicked out of bars for “bringing the place down” or whatnot, then you’ve probably got a good idea of what I’m like when I have “the crazies” and aren’t drinking.

It’s like the drinking curbs the really, really bad stuff. Which, again, probably isn’t the best thing in the world. But, hey, I’m still alive right? Maybe the alcohol renders me relatively inert. That’s what I’m going to continue to keep believing.

I never really know what’s going to set “the crazies” off. My last bout was Monday. I remember going to a meeting at work, hitting the bank right after, and driving to the bar. A few bar-hops and a dozen or so drinks later, I’d been kicked out of a bar, I’d infuriated a good number of my friends, and I was no closer to happiness than I was the day before. But why did it happen? What set me off? I have no idea.

Normally, I can keep “the crazies” at bay if I’m in some sort of enforced busyness, like work. And, in fact, the first few months of my new job did a great job of keeping my brain on the straight and narrow. But now it seems like I’m having “the crazies” a couple of times a week again, which is not helpful. It makes me feel like I’m stagnating, or maybe even regressing. And I tend to be the sort of person who doesn’t think very highly of myself in the first place, so the feeling that I’m backpedaling tightens the knot in my stomach even further.

So, in a little bit, I’m going to take a good, long shower. Then, I’m going to make myself a cocktail. I might do some stupid things that stem from that drink, or the drink after, or the drink after. I might even text you to tell you I love you. Or that I hate you. Maybe I’ll do something really stupid. Or maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow morning, feeling just fine, only slightly embarrassed for opening up about my fragile psyche.

Tomorrow might be the best thing in the world. Maybe I’ll figure out some techniques at work that’ll expedite the socialization process for my current patient. Maybe I’ll meet the girl of my dreams, and maybe she‘ll think I‘m the boy of her dreams. Maybe I’ll discover something that makes me so happy that none of this will ever matter again. Or maybe I’ll have “the crazies” again, and I’ll have to explain to everyone why I’m acting so very strange.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Excerpt 16

I’m listening to Chris Connelly’s new album this morning on vinyl. Listening to Chris Connelly has always made me think of you, despite the years and distance. This new album, in particular, brings thoughts of you flooding to the forefront of my mind. Pentland Firth Howl is a song cycle about Connelly’s childhood in Scotland, so it’s obvious…

We met back in high school at a writer’s conference. I guess I would say that I was just coming into my own as an official “man slut” (or so they say), and when I heard your lilting accent from across the designated meeting place, I knew you had to be mine.

You had driven down from Portland for this conference; who knows why? You’d lived in the States for a few years, so you were used to useless American bastards like me. But still, you talked to me, and we established quite a rapport.

I asked for your name and you gave it freely. It’s so classically Scottish that I nearly choked on the terrible buffet spread. I’m sure I was smitten. Or maybe it’s just the hazy memory.

We talked about James Joyce and Lou Reed and Leonard Cohen and Edith Wharton and everything we ever wanted to do and everything we were going to do and how utterly fabulous we must be for just being there, that very day. It was glorious. And it was oh-so brief.

By the end of the conference, we were holding hands. You gave me your address, and I gave you mine. And we did exchange letters for a year or so. But we never met again.

I never figured out why. I guess some distances are never meant to be crossed. I don’t belong in Scotland. And maybe you don’t belong in America.

But I still remember that day.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Twitter Can Suck A Fuck

Twitter is frustrating and I hate it.

There, I said it.

There’s nothing quite like having your own personal Texts From Last Night to greet you every morning after a night of bar-hopping, heavy drinking, and stupid decisions. “Thanks, Twitter, I really needed to be reminded that I was a train-wreck the night before.”

Yes, I did a solo pub-crawl after work last night. I got rejected by a girl, slammed by a friend who thinks I’m an asshole, and kicked out of a country dive bar for being too “drunk and depressing.”

So, yeah, it was a night.

I’m reminded of Art Brut’s “Alcoholics Unanimous” this morning, as I am so many mornings. I was up all night, making mistakes. And I certainly wasn’t handling things as well as I thought I was. I apologized by group text. Unsurprisingly, few of the apologies were accepted.

I guess that’s my life in a nutshell.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Listening To The Cure On Vinyl And Staring At The Monitor

Some weeks, I don’t feel like looking at my computer. This week has been one of those weeks. I mean, beyond the fact that I’ve been at work pretty much constantly, I just haven’t felt like getting online much. And that means a lack of new blogs lately.

Oh, I’ve had ideas. I was going to write about my love affair with Jarvis Cocker and Pulp, to celebrate Jarvis’ new album. Or maybe something about my experience at Bakersfield’s slightly ghetto new Peruvian restaurant, The Happy Rooster. Or maybe any of the other dozens of bizarre things that seem to happen to me on a daily basis.

But I’m just not feeling it. And by not feeling it, I mean that I’m currently floating in that hazy area between numb and depressed. I’m not depressed in that way that causes me to write great gobs of new material and I’m too numb to care one way or the other.


Plenty of reasons. Work is always stressful, but this week has been particularly so. I knew I was slipping when two of the bigwigs at the company asked me if something was wrong yesterday. I’m usually much better at checking myself at the door, but I guess I wasn’t doing as good a job masking how I normally feel at work.

And, of course, there’s other, more personal things. It’s the usual garbage I’m going on about here. None of it really matters, though. I’m pretty much giving up on a couple of people in my life. I don’t matter to them, so why should they matter to me?

But saying that is easier than doing that. And I’m sure the next few weeks will be quite terrible.

Basically, I’m broken. And it appears that I’ve run out of glue.