Saturday, September 21, 2002

Hey kids...

Yeah today was slack. All the phone calls I expected didn't come. I will never get a job.
I did go the gym and I did get some rum. Whereupon, I drank it.

So I got drunk and danced and sang by myself. I listened to This American Life. I irritated the cat.

So another reason I just don't get boys: Girls Gone Wild. I don't understand it. I suppose I just don't have an appropriate appreciation of boobs. That's all it is, lots and lots of them, like they never get old. I mean, it looks like it would only appeal to 15 year olds who've never actually seen any before. But no... it's for an older set. How great can they be? I mean, if you've seen two...

I didn't see the Boy today at the gym.

Yeah, today sucked.

Book of the day: The Pickwick Papers, Book XIV, Chap XXXVI

Dr Who of the Day: Mindwarp, part 4

Reason Laura Llew rocks: Who else has Chocolate covered Boys?

Word of the Day: to olfact - to smell strongly

Friday, September 20, 2002

Ms Llew got her present today. Yay!
*does a little dance; butt wiggles like a really happy dog*
She liked it.

Rushed away home for a minor emergency. Came back earlier than anticpated.

Saw two amusing sites:
Here and Here.
Steve -- yes, the old school host of Blue's Clues -- has is own site. Apparently, he works with the Flaming Lips (?!). I downloaded one of his songs, but haven't listened to it. He affirmed me.
The other site is Murphy's spiritual home land.
My spiritual homeland is South of the Border. Oh sweet god yes. My... acquitance, I geuss, since it is now THREE months since I heard from... wanted to write a novel about Ernestine, the old lady who operated the elevator up and down the Giant Sombrero. (I've known Darren for over half my life... Isn't it sad?)

I almost had a panic attack last night. I'm about to freak out. I have less than $15. And the end of the month is getting soo close. I have bills and rent and No Job and No Roommate.
Usually I can deal, but last night in the dark, it was rough.
For the first time in a long while, I really, really wanted somebody to be next to me.
Not bitching about it (and I did this in a drunken email to FR3 -- no, you don't know what it means -- a few months ago) but seriously wanting another human being next to me. *casts his eyes to the ground, make a little sigh*
On Fridays my best day of the week, I have to go to the gym early cause they close at 8. There's this boy I always see who's very cute. I recognize him from somewhere, but I'm not sure where. One of my Art History classes, I think. I'd love to talk to him, but he's always leaving as I'm going in. I always get all weird though. I'd hate to make a fool of myself or get punched. I'm not sure which would be worse.
If I was sure he was in my Art History class -- Art 56, the Early Italian Renassiance, by the by -- I'd be much quicker to attempt it. In the words of my Very Last Girlfriend, most boys in Art History classes are, well, you know...
Ha. How Right You Were, T----. (How Restoration Comedy, the initial and dash...)

Have I mentioned my Fridays?
They used to be paydays. Since I was a waiter, the paycheck was $35 or $40 and pure me money, since my tips paid the bills. It was also my day off. I'd wake up late, check my email and daily sites. Then I'd get my check and cash it. I'd get the monthly edition of Dr Who Magazine (yay!) and grab a quick cheap lunch where I work. Then I'd listen to Viva's show on WXDU, and go to the gym. [Here I'd see The Boy] Then on the way home, I'd get stop at the liquor store. Then I'd listen to This American Life. Then I'd meet friends, get a drink and we'd go see a movie.
*Despondant sigh* But now I am unemployed, can't afford DWM, lunch or a movie. And all my friends moved away. Now I'll just scrimp a fin, buy a pint of rum and drink it alone.
Oh well. The radio's still free, so I can listen to Viva and Ira Glass.
I hear back from the swank job tomorrow. I need some good news.

I had to miss training tonight because of my inpromptu trip home. I hope they can still train me. I don't think I could deal with another blow right now. I was really, really, really looking forward to that job.

I've decided my life is close to a Greek tragedy since pretty much everything gone wrong is my own fault. (God that's so not true. I think I might be able to deal better if it was.)

Book of the Day: The Pickwick Papers, book XIII. Today was the Trial of Bardell v. Pickwick, which was so great. You can tell you've found something great in Dickens when you read this, his first book. Readers must have been so excited in the 19th Century. But is there ever a better feeling when you read a groovy first book?

Word of the Day: boscage (thanks Pigtails!) -- low-lying forest, sort of scrubby landscape

Reason Llew rocks for today: Hmmm... Because "eeep" is a verbal love bite.

I didn't watch Dr Who today because I was plotting out my novel.

Aruni may be on now... I think I'll go listen. Maybe she'll play Belle and Sebastian. (...on the radio...)

Thursday, September 19, 2002

I go in for training at WXDU tonight. I'm quite excited. When I was in Durham Tuesday I looked for the place. I didn't quite find it, bit I did find East Campus and one of the cross streets. I will of course get lost tonight, but I will factor in that much time.
Incidentally, the cross street I mentioned was Broad Street: where the Basement is, and where I stood Aruni up. At least I can find it now. Hmm. I need to email her.
O Gentle Reader, we had a visitor.
To answer one of his questions, here is the source of the Blog's name: It is a reference to a play and a painting. The play is Tennessee Williams' The Eccentricities of a Nightengale. The painting is Edward Hopper's Nighthawks, a print of which I've had since I was a sophomore in school. That's pretty much me, somewhere in between those two.
(And as it happens, I haven't read the Motel Chronicles, though I have read most of Shepard's dramatic work. His earlier stuff, like The Hidden Hand, I like best.)
I've been trying to post this since about eight and It Just Hasn't Worked! I'll try once more, though.
I didn't post yesterday because I was so busy. I applied at four different places...
a) a Cracker Barrel restaurant in Durham (Never, ever will I work there, even if I get the job. They play country all the time)
b) a little coffee shop (quit nice)
c) a grocery store (ditto the never, ever bit)
d) the sehr posh University Club, a private alumni club for Duke University.
After that, I came home and worked on my book, went to the gym for two hours snd read an entire book of The Pickwick Papers.

Consequently, I was very slack today. I did get a nice email from a place a put in a resume (the Duke University Center for Documentary Studies), telling me they were looking it over. Nice to know I'm not right out...

I spent way too much time on the Internet. The high-lights:

The Friendship test: I went to take a friend's test and did very poorly (30 out of 100 points) so I went and made one of my own. Turns out, when I took my own, I only made 80%. Just goes to show my life is an utter fiction. Even to me. You can visit and learn lots about me: yes, it's Ten Things I Hate About Jay.

Pix of Barbarella for the Bookshop Barbarella. This apparently scares her. But it's true! Just think: she's beautiful, vicious, fearsome, thinks about Black Leather, spends time with [other] sex pots, and has been called a loner -- and all just in a week. Oh yeah. It's sooo right it's scary. (I only hope that makes me Dr Duran so I can spawn an 80s supergroup...) You'll have tofind your own pix for this, as I can't post any here.

This place. It's so cool. I want to adopt the King of Kraut. Oh yeah baby -- I love commercial imperialism. I love the whole vibe of the place -- its oddiity. (Or is that its quiditas, claritas and unitas? Geddit? It's a James Joyce/St Augustine joke. No... I don't like Joyce, either, but I had to read him throughout school. Lousy blind expatriate mick.)

The Giant Floating Head of Mao. I first saw this during my Sinophile period, while I was studying the History of Communist Revolution in China. I spent a lot of time nosing about virtual galleries of Chinese Socialist Realism, GFHoMs are quite a common image. I lost all of my original addresses when I finished school, but found some today. This site has a couple of good ones. Bask in their nigh-Zen absurdity and feel the warm glow of Mao's head watching over *your* class struggle.

I also went to Nerve today, to look at my lonely little ad. It's lonely cause no-one ever visits it. Friends of mine posted it for me, so I went to look at other ads to see what was wrong with mine. This one won the assinine award hands down. When asked what five items he couldn't do without, he said "my glasses (understandable -J), my laptop, my PDA, my Jeep Cherokee and my Dave Matthews CDs."
Seriously, why is he gay? What he needs is a trophy wife and a comfy closet. His screen name (and Iknow I shouldn't say, but still) is 'Fratboy.' Like you even needed to be told that.
It just goes to show that Fraternities exist only to shelter guilt-free gay orgies. Why else would they be called Greeks? I've said it before, Gentle Reader. On 6 Sept. as a matter of fact.

I read an email today where someone swooned. In fact, they didn't just swoon, they *swooned*. As they are female, I let it slide. But I was Not Amused.

Today's question: Is the appropriate adjective for Murphy 'murph-alous' (as in marvelous) or murph-tastic?
Let me know.

Dr Who of the Day: Mindwarp, part three. Evil Dr Who. Who knew it would take 23 years for somebody to try this? Billy Hartnell (Chatterton, Chesserson, I mean Chesterton...) always wanted to do The Son of Dr Who, as an evil time traveller, but it's not quite the same. Sounds a bit like Panto. Do other Americans know Panto? It's just what we always suspected, really. The entirety of the Brits queer up for a few weeks at Christmas. Trust it to start in the theater. (Revenge for poor Brit turn out or the truth? Ask your local Subject of the Queen...)
Anyway: Does anybody think the Doctor has really become evil? Of course not! It took a concerted campaign over several years by Virgin books for that! But what else would the World's Most Evil MutiNational Conglomerate do to an innocent eccentric gentleman?

Book o the Day: The PickWick Papers, Book XIII

Today's reason Laura Llew rocks: Hmmmm. The lost art of pouting*.

Word of the day: scorbutic -- appearing to have scurvy. There is a scorbutic lad in The Pickwick Papers, Chap. XXXII.

*I have never actually seen Ll pouting. This is perhaps unfortunate as it is no doubt alluring, but also perhaps fortunate as her fearsomeness suggests I would not like to be the source of said pouting.

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

Hey Kids.
Still trying to be light and fluffy. On that note, a word about statistics. People from all over the world seem to be visiting. Literally. Although a hefty percentage is coming from the East Coast of the US (followed closely by the West Coast), there are people from several countries. England, though, is quite lacking. Two people. Sod you lot, then. I thought I had several English friends. I jest. I have no English friends. (kidding then, as well)
New Zealand (?!), Australia (both coasts, no less) and what appears to be central or western Asia, perhaps Bangladesh or Thailand, are all there, too. Though why New Zealand gets more consternation that Bangladesh is weird. Old Zealand (And yes it does exist. It's an island off Denmark) needs to represent.
Hey foreign people! Drop me a line.
But oddly, the only place with one hit only was the Midwest. Apparently I don't appeal to Corn-Fed Goodness.
Although, let's face it. I only get spill over from a Petullant site.
I spent all day getting my resume and cover letter ready for an application at the Duke University Center for Documentary Studies. Another job I won't get.
Did I mention I got all my hair chopped off? The price of going to visit my parents for sympathy. I'm still reeling, and there's no fountain in sight.
I also got to see the Garm. Have I mentioned the Garm before? She's my parents miniature daschund. Her 'real' name is Nikki, but I, struck by her disproportionate viciousness, named her after the Norse guardian of the Underworld. Yes, a weenie dog named after a god. And yes, she looks like a rat. And yes, she yaps incessantly at anything that moves. Murphy the Wonder Ocelot (he's still on his tangent) would whupp her ass.
My mother confuses our names. While I was at home she not only said "Jason, get down off the couch" but also "Nikki, do your laundry."
It also turns out the Garm has taken my place on the couch. She plonked herself in front of me and stared (daschunds do that very well) when I sat down. My mother was not moved when I complained. "What do you expect? You're in her seat."
Displaced by a dog. A little yappy dog.
I did get a Cheerwine supply though. I thought of Kirkus. Specifically, how he does not at all resemble some variety of sea monster, which by his name you would think. You know, a kraken with glasses. But this is not the case. Not that or the Karkus, which was a superhero in the Hourly Telepress in the 21st Century. But that was just an episode of Dr Who (The Mind Robber, 1968: sehr trippy). But Kirkus would be cooler with an Anti-molecular Disentengrating Ray Gun. But who wouldn't?
(That's right -- Llew. Although... Hmm. Bookshop Barbarella? Oh how I like this one.)

Book of the Day: The Pickwick Papers, Book XI
Reason Laura Llew rocks: The joke about Ayn Rand. Absolutely classic. This apart from Bookshop Barbarella, which still fascinates me...
Dr Who of the Day: Mindwarp, part two. I Love The TECHNOCOLOR EIGHTIES! Flourescent pink water! Ultraviolet shingle! Yellow amphibious monsters! A thing called a Raak (or perhaps Rawk, which would be soo much cooler) that defies any attempt at description besides The Teeth, man, The Teeth!
And it's got Brian Blessed. That's right -- classically trained, legitimate theatre star Brian Blessed, as seen in several Ken Branaugh movies -- in 80s multicolor eye shadow and in a kaftan, being so incrediblely lovely-ly OTT (over the top) as the Warrior King Yracnos: "Swiiiiiiine! Animalllllls! I shall pull out your heart and eat it lightly sauteed!"

Hmm. I feel down again.
I think I'll watch some porn.
Am I kidding? Am I not? Who knows?

Monday, September 16, 2002

Hey Kids.
Sorry I've been gone so long. Murphy the Wonder Ocelot spilled Iced Tea on my keyboard. He killed it.
Also, the Major heard of my unemployment. I was summonded home.
It turned out well. I got a new keyboard (obviously) and a new printer. I also got groceries and some cash.
Most importantly. I got some happiness. I felt all special after being home, like I can get a job and a roommate.
Well, it was mostly good. I tried to play piano, but it's been so very long, I remembered next to nothing. Although, if I turned off my brain, my hands could play a bit.
My parents offered to let me move back in. But I can't. Oh how I can't. But I can appreciate the offer.
And I snagged some more Chopin music. Old vinyl. And, for some reason, it has some old version of popular music: imagine polka versions of 'Mack the Knife' or 'As Time Goes By.' Lawrence Welk goes wild...
I kept a decent journal while I was away. Perhaps I will post what I wrote.
Most of it was petty: which Real World boy was cuter, the one from Chicago or New Orleans. Real Important stuff, yeah?