"It's educational"

If you're like me and you like Pixies (the band), you have to go listen to this excellent BBC audio documentary (the audio is a Real Player stream just to warn ya.) I'm listening to it right now and loving it. But I'm a geek like that.

A few other shout-outs!

I figured since I mentioned and linked Brian's band earlier, I should do the same for a few other friends.

My old homey Brendan, now in Chicago, plays bass in a band called The Tax that plays some great R&B/mod influenced rock.

My pal Dan, in Milwaukee (notice how much cooler Milwaukee's website looks compared to Chicago's), does all kinds of arcane electronics and synths for ESVC, which I believe stands for Experimental Sound and Video Collective, which pretty much explains their sound.

Dan used to be in another band in Milwaukee that I guess you could say I'm friends with, since I was friends or acquaintances with them the last time I saw any of them, and they played a couple gigs with Quisling. Actually, Bill, this band's bassist, who I remember as a really decent guy is also in ESVC with Dan. Anyway, THIS band is AluminumKnotEye and they play some kick-ass, fucked-up, noise rock. I am very grateful to Keith, their vocals and also one of their guitars, for sending me free a copy of their recent CD, which is excellent.

Finally, my old pals Greg and Matt Peters, who also live in Chicago now, and who have collaborated on many other worthy projects in the past, are currently doing probably their most unique and unanticipated project yet. It's called Remember The Maine and it consists of Matt playing marimba, Greg singing, and some guy I don't know named Mr. Richardson playing accordion. All the songs are covers, old timey songs from the turn of the century. The turn of the 19th to the 20th century. It's the shit man, go listen to the mp3s Matt's posted on the page I linked!

MySpace beats Friendster

It's official, after a couple weeks of using MySpace, I am completely converted. I will say this for Friendster: it is prettier (I am referring to the graphic design of their webpages only, of course, not to the users or anything else.) But MySpace is, for reasons I'm still not sure of (that would require some further thinking...), a MUCH more enjoyable experience.

Finally

I have been looking forward to this time with much excitement and anticipation for several weeks now, and not just because of the aforementioned vacation. No, what has really gotten me stoked is that I am no longer a fulltime employee at the hospital where I work.

I will return after our vacation to the same position, Spanish Interpreter, but only part time, in the evenings. Classes begin August 18th, and orientation, both for school and for new TAs, begins on August 10th. I am equally excited about starting school again as I am about the fact that I no longer will be working my day job full time.

Don't get me wrong, I like interpreting, but the institution that is my employer, and many of the other staff that are there, I do not necessarily like.

Yesterday was a very routine day, with no fanfare for my last full-time day. This was partly by my design; only my fellow interpreters (and presumably other staff in our department), and a very select few others knew that yesterday was my last full-time day.

I will definitely not miss working days. There are many departments that will not be open when I will be working nights and also many people I can't stand that won't be there at night, and I am very glad. In particular there is one co-worker who has always been a total bitch (and I know it's not "just me" who thinks this because everyone that I've ever talked with about her agrees) that I will be absolutely ecstatic that I will almost never see her. Yesterday at work my terse interactions with her only confirmed everything that I think about her.

I realize that once school is in full swing, I will likely go completely crazy with all the work, and still having to work part time (in addition to being a TA!) But I totally look forward to it, and having an increased work load, but one by my choosing and on my terms, does not in any way dampen my enthusiasm.

On a completely unrelated topic: I'm listening (and sporadically watching) the documentary Bush's Brain on the Sundance Channel. It too is a conformation for me, that Karl Rove is an insidious, manipulative, lying asshole, and that Bush II is a fucking moron controlled by others.

the man who could not blog

fucking hilarious!

Vacation

I find it amusing, and absurd, that I am unable to post this without getting the chorus from the song "Vacation" by The Go-Go's stuck in my head. But there is no better title.

We are on vacation for almost ten days, starting yesterday around 5 p.m. We don't have to be back in Athens until Sunday, August 7th, although we will probably go back on the 6th, because I have to work Sunday night.

It feels so good to know that I don't have anything to do for so long. It seems like it's been forever since I've had a vacation. Well, it's been about a year exactly, since I've had one this long.

We are at Holly's mom's house (and have it to ourselves for the moment, but not for long) in Waycross. (And I'm wearing my Ware County t-shirt right now, by coincidence, I swear. I should post a picture of that shirt so you all can see what I'm talking about. It's nothing special, I just wear it so often because my wardrobe is so small, relatively, and it fits.)

We will chill out here, taking full advantage of the pool, and also make some day trips. For sure we will go to Jacksonville, Florida, and probably check out the Jacksonville Museum of Modern Art. We will also take a day to visit Holly's grandparents in Andersonville, Georgia. Also, right here in Waycross we will finally (for me anyway, my first time) take a boat tour of the Okefenokee Swamp. If we are lucky we may also make it to Savannah and St. Simons Island also.

And I get to fuck around on the Internet as much as I want to!

First things first

I probably will post a bunch of different little things over the course of the next couple hours or so. But I will put them all in separate little posts so they stand out. They could all be one giant post. But that would be retarded.

What the hell am I doing up so damn early?

Those of you actually checking the time of post may be wondering what I mean by early. I've been up since about 5:30 a.m. My body is programmed to do this. I could have went back to sleep, but I decided to check my email. Then, I wasn't tired anymore. Pretty neat, huh.

all hail THE KILLER ELITE

So I emailed my old pal Brian last week, and he called me on Saturday and we chatted for awhile on the phone, which was very nice, especially since it's been awhile.

So, anyway, those of you who know me probably also know that Brian used to play keyboards and occasionally guitar in Quisling, a band we used to have in Madison. Well, he lives in NYC now and in addition to working on his Ph.D. he is in another band called The Killer Elite.

Now, I had heard from him before that they had made some recordings, did some decent gigs, gotten airplay, etc. But I had no idea they had a website until I talked to Brian on the phone last weekend, and it's a pretty decent site. You can download some mp3s, see past show flyers, and pictures of the band, as well as other stuff. So go check it out!

I yelled at two old ladies.

I have a problem with what folks call nowadays "road rage." Actually it's not just when I'm driving. I could be walking, or riding a bike, and get just as annoyed at people. People are just stupid. And I have anger management issues.

Last Friday Morning after dropping Holly off at her job, (at parking lot N11), my exit path was blocked by a line of cars stretching all the way from the gate to the Tate Center parking lot to Lumpkin St.

Apparently, the old lady at the front of the line had decided she didn't want to park in the Tate Center lot. Fair enough. We all make mistakes. The geniuses at UGA Parking Services, in their infinite wisdom, have decreed that one may not (ever) enter the Tate Center parking lot without either paying or receiving a citation, even if your only purpose for entering, is to turn around and immediately exit (and thus facilitate the movement of the eleven or so cars that are behind you.)

The parking attendant, also an old lady, and Chinese-looking, not that there's anything wrong with that, got out of her booth and signaled for the other cars to back up. Which they reluctantly did as best they could considering the physical constraints they faced. This was not sufficient for the poor old lady at the front of the line to back up. Alas she was too timid, and the lane to her left had traffic passing by to boot.

So in a couple minutes she gets out of her car to ask the girl behind her to back up some more. At this point I am furious. More than anything, I just wish the stupid parking people would let her in the gated lot so she could turn around right away and come back out, which was all the little old lady and everyone else waiting on her wanted.

I was losing it, so I honked a couple times. Then the old Chinese woman emerged from the parking control hut, so I got out of my car to yell at her: "Why don't you just let her in and back out right away?"

"No, we can't do that. She has to either pay or get a parking ticket."

"Bullshit!"

Then the old lady started blubbering something about how she would just go ahead and get a ticket. I took pity on her in my own unique way by yelling at her that she was retarded and shouldn't be driving.

Just then the girl behind her pulled away, thus clearing a path for me. As soon as my shouts had reached the old women's ears, I was back in the car, making it through the hole to turn left to get to Lumpkin St. and freedom.

I immediately felt guilty. Not about what I shouted to the Parking drone. That policy if it is true, IS bullshit. But the poor old lady driver, I shouldn't have taken it out on her. I'll probably see her sometime at work and she'll call me out as the rude young man that shouted at her in the Tate parking lot entrance.

What the hell is wrong with my clothes?

A few minutes ago I got dressed for work, and ever since I put on my undershirt, I have been plagued with random itching sensations in my upper torso and neck area. Is there a spider trapped in my shirt, or am I just insane?

yee-ha

Holly and I put up a ceiling fan tonight. Man, what a pain in the ass. It was worth it, I guess. My goal in life, one of them anyway, someday, is to have enough money to not have to do manual labor in my own home improvement, ever, unless I choose to. I'm serious. If that makes me shallow, effete, or a pussy, I don't fucking care.

the gas station incident

So on Friday night, I went to fill Holly's car with gas. (We have two cars, one is the Jeep I inherited from my mom, and the other is a Kia Sephia, which Holly's mom bought for her a few years ago.) We've started mainly driving Holly's car now after a very long stretch of mainly using the Jeep. The main reason for the switch is the dramatic difference in gas mileage, although the air conditioning in the Kia also works whereas it does not in the jeep.

Anyway, the car is in Holly's mom's name, and thus the license plates (or tags as everyone down here calls them) say Ware on them. The license plates here in Georgia, as they do in several other states from what I've seen, have the county name where you got the plates printed on them. I don't know why they do this, but presumably it is to assist law enforcement. I have always thought that it would also greatly assist stalkers, serial-killers, and other evil-doers, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, to someone who doesn't know us, seeing the Kia's license plates would lead that person to believe we are from Ware county. We also have a John Kerry bumper sticker from his failed presidential campaign, tastefully centered above the license plate.

Ware County is in the southeast area of Georgia, about a four-and-a-half hour drive south from Athens. It's about an hour drive north of Jacksonville, Florida. The county seat is Waycross, which is named for the many train tracks that pass through it. Waycross is where Holly's mom lives, and it is also the boyhood home of Burt Reynolds, as well as the home of the world-famous Okefenokee Swamp. There's also a Wal-Mart there. And not much else. (Although Holly's mom has a sweet inground pool in her back yard that we totally love.)

Anyway, back to the gas station. So this middle-aged looking guy walks by as I'm fueling, totally staring at me. Understandably annoyed, I say to him, "Can I help you?" He says nothing, keeps walking, staring. "Oh OK, I guess you just have a staring problem," I mutter.

His motorcycle is parked at the pump in front of the one I'm using. He pauses before putting his helmet back on, looks at me and says, "You must be the only person in Ware County that voted for Kerry." (Ironically I was also wearing a "Ware County" t-shirt that I got from Holly, and for the moment had forgotten about the license plate.) I was completely flabbergasted and didn't say anything. Then the prick said, "What's wrong with you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" was the best I could manage for a reply.

Luckily the woman pumping gas on the other side of the pump I was using chimed in, "Everyone's got their own damn opinion."

"Exactly" I added.

I didn't hear anything else out of Mr. Republican but he must have been mumbling something because my unknown ally shouted, "Just shut up," shortly thereafter.

I couldn't help but add "no shit!" to this.

You know, it was a classic case of where you think of all kinds of things to say after the fact. Like, "What's wrong with me? OK, I'll tell you. I didn't want to vote for a president that's a FUCKING RETARD! What's your excuse?" Or as Holly said, "Yeah, most of the people in Waycross are fucking idiots. I guess I'm just different."

It really got my blood boiling. Who the fuck did that guy think he was? OOOOOHHHHHH. Hopefully the next time something like that happens I can keep a little cooler head and think of something better to say.

This should be cool

It's old news by now, but apparently one of the greatest rock bands of all time may possibly record and release a new album. Of course a careful reading of the actual words quoted does in no way suggest any sort of guarantee...

Obviously, if and when it comes out, I will have to buy it, and if it's anywhere near as good as their last studio album, I will not be disappointed in the least.

Stuff

I've been pretty excited about finally setting this up (thanks Holly for helping me set up the title field in my post-create screen), and I've got some plans to re-do my old website, and I've even got some relatively blogworthy premises floating around in my head. And I also might move my archive from my old Live Journal blog to this one, if I can find an easy way to do it.

But, as always, it's hard to actually make time to do this. I don't have internet access at work. (That's actually another story which is maybe worth a post down the road.) Maybe when I'm no longer working full time after the end of this month I'll do some more frequent blogging, at least until classes start.

You can read a blurb by Plyon's singer about their recent AthFest gig that I also blogged about if you go here and scroll to the bottom of the page.

Alright, it's bedtime, and I need to get up early. I promise more later.

Here it is-- my new blog. I've got to tweak it some more to properly personalize it, and this will also eventually entiail deleting and updating my old website.

Anyway, I'm sipping coffee now, but I need to hurry up and mow the lawn and do various other chores.