|Do you experience a sudden urge to urinate?|
|Jun. 26th, 2007 @ 12:09 am|
So uh, I had my first day of bar school today. Yeah, that's right... 2 weeks from now, I'll be serving your ass booze.
|Jun. 24th, 2007 @ 07:10 pm|
|Jun. 7th, 2007 @ 07:34 pm|
The linked file is a document which contains some VERY compelling arguments AGAINST the circulating theory that the World Trade Center was brought down by a controlled demolition on Sept. 11. It's worth a read.
|May. 21st, 2007 @ 08:01 pm|
The summer heat of San Jose is finally starting to set in. God, this place is a hell hole.
|May. 14th, 2007 @ 12:46 pm Streeeeeeeeeeeep Throat.|
I guess it's official--went to the doc's, and she swabbed me and I tested positive for strep. Joy. At least now I can get antibiotics for this shit. If you've traded saliva with me or breathed my air in the last 10 days or so--which probably means all of like one person--you'd better watch out.
|May. 13th, 2007 @ 04:13 pm Sick.|
I've been sick for the past 3 days or so. What sucks more than that is that until yesterday morning, I was sick while visiting Olympia, WA. Here's the story:
Sunday morning, a week ago, Lauren and I departed sunny San Jose for more northerly latitudes. Our plan was to, after a 600 mile road trip, arrive in Portland, Oregon, stay two nights before traveling up further north to Olympia, where we would stay until Saturday morning before heading back to Portland for one more night in that city, then depart this Sunday morning for home. We wanted to meet some friends, go to some bars, see some live nude dancers, get tattooed, party, have lots of sex, and visit Evergreen College in Olympia for a tour and information session. However, our trip got hijacked by some kind of whack-ass throat infection that we both came down with.
Lauren took ill on the first night, suffering from sore throat, cough, congestion, and sinus headache. We called our friend in town, Jason Baker, and notified him of our situation. He came by the hotel and picked me up to make a run to the grocery store, where I bought some essential food items, throat coat tea, hall's lozenges, nyquil, and honey. Lauren medicated herself, but when we woke up in the morning, her symptoms were in full bloom. My throat was also starting to feel a little scratchy, but for the time being, the tea with honey was enough to keep it at bay. We went up the street to Wallgreen's to buy more medicine, this time some tylenol day/night and some oral anesthetic spray. Now that I have the chance to reflect, these purchases were probably superfluous, since the active ingredients in the tylenol were the same as in nyquil and dayquil, plus we already had cough drops for pain relief. Oh well...now we could have acetaminophen dripping out of our ears! Or our livers... Anyway, after that, we took a little spin around the city, trying to sightsee without getting lost. We were basically waiting on Baker for the whole afternoon/evening, since he had errands to run and whatnot. When we got tired of driving around, we headed back to the hotel and killed time by watching TV and feeling cooped up with no place to go. At Baker's insistence we ate at the adjoining Doug Fir Lounge for dinner, which was better food than Chili's, and in roughly the same price range for most entrees. Better atmosphere, too. It was the only night we ate out for the entire trip. After it got dark, I made another grocery run to restock what we had consumed over the course of a night and a day (at this point in the trip, she and I still had appetites) and buy a thing of precut snack veggies that went bad the next day, before we even opened it. I also bought a bottle of raw, unfiltered, organic apple cider vinegar, which Baker had recommended that Lauren dilute with water and chug down, in order to turn her bloodstream into an environment hostile to disease. This last item turned out to be the gag of the trip. Literally. Lauren couldn't stomach it, so I ended up challenging her to a vinegar drinking contest later that night. Which was just funny, because it totally grossed her out that I could actually drink the stuff. And on Thursday, when I started to get sick, I diluted what was left (about one cup) and downed it all, only to have it shoot back up about 5 minutes later...because I'm so hardcore like that. It made the hotel room smell like putrid chef boyardee (the other contents of my stomach) and I was cleaning orange-colored grease and beef chunks out of my sinuses for the next 2 hours. Anyway. Back to Monday night. I go for a walk by myself through downtown Portland to meet Baker at a titty bar called Magic Garden. Nobody I pass on the street seems hostile or threatening at all, which is cool...in some places I've visited, even the white collar people look like they're about to kick your ass and steal your wallet. Magic Garden, by the way, is the first titty bar I've ever gone to in my life. So thank you, Baker, for treating me to that, and to the second titty bar we went to that night, Union Jack's, aka "The Tallest Pole in Portland". Heh. Titties and poles. Poles and titties. And booze.
Tuesday morning, we check out of our room and meet Baker and a friend of his at a cafe called The Bridges for a tasty breakfast and pleasant conversation. Then we say our goodbyes and leave for Olympia. Most of Tuesday was uneventful. We get in, unpack, settle down, touch base with Matt, and stay in for the night, watching TV and making salami sandwiches. Wednesday, we meet Matt at around 1 in the afternoon at his shop to get tattooed. For both of us, this is our first time under the gun, as it were, and we're both apprehensive and excited about getting our first tats done. I have mine done first, and the process for me is fairly painful, since the skin on the part of my head that I was having done is pretty thin. I start to feel faint a few times during the tattooing process, and ask Matt to let me get up and shake my legs out before we continue. It takes about an hour to get the piece done. Then it's Lauren's turn. Lauren has a smaller piece with less fill, so it takes about half as long for Matt to do hers. We take pictures of each other during the whole tattooing process, and each have our tats photographed by Matt for his portfolio when we finish, so there's plenty of photo documentation for this part of the trip. I walk out of the shop with a smile on my face, a huge bandage covering the side of my head, and surgical tape wrapped around my neck and forehead. Lauren and I hide out at our room for two hours, then take off the bandages, clean our tats, which are freakin' badass, and go out for some $.99 tacos at Jack-In-The-Box. Nothing beats $.99 tacos. Except $.99 tacos and badass tats. Later that evening, Matt and his buddy Ansel give us a tour of downtown Oly, and treat us to some cheap pool and beer. Even though Lauren doesn't play the pool or drink the beer. We visit some freewalls, even stop to watch some kid spray his name on one, and drink out of an artesian well that produces clean, clear water in the middle of a parking lot. I felt good, and happily intoxicated, and had no idea that the next day, I'd be waking up in the middle of a raging fever.
Thursday and Friday both sucked. Now Lauren and I both felt miserable, and, she being less sick than I, it was her turn to do grocery runs. For the most part, however, all we could do, and/or felt like doing, was staying in our hotel room watching TV. Which was crap. I turned down an offer of sex just because I felt like crap. I missed the Evergreen info session on Friday because I felt like crap. We flaked on Matt's 9pm barbecue invitation because we felt like crap. We left for home on Saturday morning, instead of Sunday, today, because we felt like crap. I'm sitting here at home writing about feeling like crap on this trip, instead of driving back from a week of fun and excitement, because we felt like crap.
So, in short:
Cool shit: visiting cool new cities, visiting cool old friends, getting tatted, getting buzzed, seeing lots of titty, drinking out of a hobo well.
Shitty shit: getting sick, having to either take care of Lauren or have her take care of me, spending all that money on medicine instead of hookers and booze, wasting my parents' money by staying at a hotel room being sick when I could have been out having fun and getting shit done if I'd not been sick, feeling too miserable to bone, watching too much TV for my own good, vomiting, going home early while sick, not being able to show my girlfriend a good time, and still being sick now that I'm home again.
|May. 4th, 2007 @ 04:16 am Rantings.|
Music, Television, Cinema, etc. are all real to you. Whatever you see or hear on TV, in a theater, or on the radio emerges as raw experience for your brain, whether you choose to believe in it or not. Your brain will automatically assimilate the data and file it away somewhere. It's one of the reasons why only the songs that you hate seem to ever get stuck in your head. Your brain incorporates into itself whatever it perceives in the world, regardless of whether its higher-functioning centers, really your learned reactions, interpret it as wrong, inhumane, morally indecent, illogical, not even believable, utterly bland, low-brow, totally artless, or a complete waste of your attention span. In other words, your mind is shaped by what you see, from which follow your actions, which define the shape your world takes, which in turn defines what and how you see. It's a vicious cycle.
In today's entertainment business, only one factor drives the creation of new media: money. Whatever illusions you might have regarding anyone's artistic integrity can summarily be thrown out the window. Concepts like philanthropy, philosophy, and the advancement of art forms involving sound and light do not exist for anyone who makes a considerable income from their work in the entertainment business. This is because people in this business, like people in any business, are in the business to make money. Love of music, in this case, translates into love of money. Don't believe anyone who says that they love music. What they really mean is they love the money associated with it. Making you believe that they love music is all a part of their con game.
My question to you now is this: do you want anyone so solely motivated by money and profit to even breathe on your mental picture of reality? To even have a shadow of an effect on the way you live your life? Would you ever trust these people with any part of yourself? Not I. Which is part of the reason why I make music. I feel incapable of trusting the profit-and-excess driven media industry to create a reality for me, since I know that in their reality, I am a slave. In my own reality, I'm free to choose whatever I want for myself, and I can be whoever I want to be, and creating media works is a part of living this reality. For me, making music is about creating my own expanding framework for reality, and about fighting for the space needed by that framework in order to expand. It is, in short, a way of living by my own rules. I should not say that I love music. 90% of all music is utter crap. That especially goes for what music I make. The future of music, however...I can only love the future of music because the now of music is shit, and the yesterday of music is worse than shit. Music to me is the art of creating a future in sound. To most people, however, it has to do with things like rhythm, and melody, and verse. It has to be something you can sing along with or dance to. This concept of music drives record sales, and plays a big part in the shaping of what most people call "their" reality. And I hate that.
Don't trust anything you pay money for, especially if it's music. Chances are, if it had the chance, it would pay money to own you.
|Apr. 5th, 2007 @ 11:43 pm GRAAAAHHHHH!!!|
Just finished cleaning up, rearranging, and packing away a FUCKTON of shit in my room. I got a previously-owned chest and a big metal filing cabinet from Santa Clara's spring clean-up, and I just spent the past 4 hours or so moving them into my room and picking shit up off my floor to put in them. And that's not even the last of it. A set of shelves and a wall cabinet go in this weekend, and then I can clean up and organize the OTHER HALF of the state of continual mess that is my room. Honestly, I can't fucking wait.
|Mar. 22nd, 2007 @ 09:24 pm|
classes start apr. 9.
|Mar. 19th, 2007 @ 02:35 pm Going Back to Foothill|
So, I just registered for classes. I'm taking Music Business and Audio for Video, and maybe a lab course, or two. Mainly, I want to complete a Certificate of Achievement, plus have access to lab time in the big studio. I'll probably end up volunteering on weekends in the multimedia lab, or applying for a job as lab monitor, which pays low wages and has relatively few hours of work associated with it. And when it's not busy, I can always play Kingdom of Loathing on the lab computers. Heh. Maybe I'll meet some cool people this quarter, too.