Rojo quit last night.
That's inaccurate. He quit about sixteen days ago, maybe eighteen. Days, not shifts. Last night was his last night. Boston's having a kid, too. We all stood outside under a awning after work last night while Rojo sucked down a joint and we shivered in the rain. It's been a while since I felt that tight, anywhere. Boston took off before I could buy him a drink, but I think he was in a hurry to get home and embrace the news. Chippendale stayed, complete in vest, tie and gin&tonic, and pretty much outdrank me. I swallowed too fast though, and nothing on my stomach. Still made it home and didn't heave, although I snoozed for a while in the bathroom. I need to cool it. Glad I didn't have to flush anything, though, because the chain broke again yesterday and we have to fiddle with the valve now in order for the tank to fill up.
The headache hit halfway through Spanish this morning, but for all I know that was the classroom and not the whiskey. La Profesora thinks I should seek out a conselor, and she's probably right. I'm not going to.
Two bottles of Queen Bitch Amber are in the fridge. We brewed it, I don't remember if that was in December or early Feburary, though the date is stamped in marker on the side of the bucket we used. It's been bottled for almost two weeks and I should wait just a little longer, but I'm excited to taste it. Monday night, isn't it? We're getting all of our new shows tonight and I have muchos horas de tarea de español para hacer.
Did some writing this morning, and some aided reminiscing. Started a lyric, then revisted my cache of old ideas and thoughts spread across the notebooks I've kept from the last four years. I don't know why I pulled those out of the closet, except that I've just started a fresh book, it's red, and I like to see the record of my progression opened and accessible in black and white in front of me. Who doesn't? That's why I write here, too. I wonder if I'll ever settle well enough to look back over the last few years and laugh at how I thought they were miserable and tumultuous.
I think I get to go home the week after this, fingers crossed. Mis vacaciones numero dos!
Monday
Thursday
what happened to february?
Beatrice started a guitaring blog in January and wrote three detailed, passionate, and somewhat naive/arrogant posts for a player at his level.
Was it really over a month ago that I remember him being so excited about it? As he looked up at me from his chair and I could hear a little motivation in the back of his throat?
"The sun is rising."
He hasn't written a thing since then.
Was it really over a month ago that I remember him being so excited about it? As he looked up at me from his chair and I could hear a little motivation in the back of his throat?
"The sun is rising."
He hasn't written a thing since then.
today's tip.
I finally worked up the courage to go to Spanish class today. I'd missed six classes in a row on account of exhaustion and sickness, and I hadn't contacted the teacher about any of it. Tuesday I basically didn't go because I was afraid of all the classes I'd missed. It's a theme I've got going, avoiding the problem while it festers. I never signed up for my oral test, and I have no idea what's been due or what dates are when. My participation grade is most certainly dead in the water. I'm probably going to fail the class now; a week ago I still had a shot.
My heart beat with anticipation this morning as I walked out of the library--I had to print out final drafts of the compositions that were due two weeks ago--and made my way to the main building. My eyes instinctively flitted to the big clock in the grand hall as I passed in front of it, delighted that I was on time. Two flights of stairs and a well-traveled maze of hallways later, I was stopped just outside of the wing were my class is, by a official in front of a curtain. Some kind of event, a lot of classes moved. Since I never got the memo, I headed to la oficina de la profesora.
I was even more nervous now, but confident too, because at least the one-on-one setting would spare me the embarrassment of explaining myself during class, and getting the Indian burn I deserve, too. I sat outside of the building for five minutes reviewing my lessons, in the event that she'd invite me to do an impromptu, unplanned oral exam--a true test. I finally made my way to the second floor, hesitated outside of her office, and elbowed my way in.
Nothing, she wasn't there. And, there was no word to a fellow teacher about whether the class this morning was canceled, or just moved. I went back outside and smoked a cigarette.
I practiced piano at Mao's this morning for the first time ever, while she took a shower. I'm not sure why I decided to ask her, but it felt good. I promised to write la profesora an email before I left for work, so I'd have some kind of instruction.
Instead, I fell asleep and missed my alarm. I finally got to work, a half hour late and looking all the worse for the wear.
Erin Express is this weekend, and I finally, officially join the great ranks of the maddened barkeeps. Unless the rain dampens the festivities. I laugh in spite of myself, because Katharine avoided me tonight, which she does now if she's infatuated with someone else. Last weekend she got pissy when I showed up to the Cube after work with Mewtwo for a drink: Katharine had been in and out of bars all that night, so she was quite drunk, but I know jealously when I see it. It's a shame too, we could have had a little fun. I know we both need it.
So much, so much. Busy, busy, as that one Bokononist says, and I hope he's right. I've been particularly sober the last few days, which is good, I think. I hope it's the exhaustion, and not some thick ooze of disinterest that feels like it's replacing my blood.
Oh, today's tip: Don't try separating steel wool with your bare hands, especially if they are wet, or soft from the dishwater they're always in when you're bar-tending. On top of that, don't separate steel wool with your bare hands if you're going to be anywhere near a lime, or some other squeezable, citrus fruit.
I'm making it up as I go along...
My heart beat with anticipation this morning as I walked out of the library--I had to print out final drafts of the compositions that were due two weeks ago--and made my way to the main building. My eyes instinctively flitted to the big clock in the grand hall as I passed in front of it, delighted that I was on time. Two flights of stairs and a well-traveled maze of hallways later, I was stopped just outside of the wing were my class is, by a official in front of a curtain. Some kind of event, a lot of classes moved. Since I never got the memo, I headed to la oficina de la profesora.
I was even more nervous now, but confident too, because at least the one-on-one setting would spare me the embarrassment of explaining myself during class, and getting the Indian burn I deserve, too. I sat outside of the building for five minutes reviewing my lessons, in the event that she'd invite me to do an impromptu, unplanned oral exam--a true test. I finally made my way to the second floor, hesitated outside of her office, and elbowed my way in.
Nothing, she wasn't there. And, there was no word to a fellow teacher about whether the class this morning was canceled, or just moved. I went back outside and smoked a cigarette.
I practiced piano at Mao's this morning for the first time ever, while she took a shower. I'm not sure why I decided to ask her, but it felt good. I promised to write la profesora an email before I left for work, so I'd have some kind of instruction.
Instead, I fell asleep and missed my alarm. I finally got to work, a half hour late and looking all the worse for the wear.
Erin Express is this weekend, and I finally, officially join the great ranks of the maddened barkeeps. Unless the rain dampens the festivities. I laugh in spite of myself, because Katharine avoided me tonight, which she does now if she's infatuated with someone else. Last weekend she got pissy when I showed up to the Cube after work with Mewtwo for a drink: Katharine had been in and out of bars all that night, so she was quite drunk, but I know jealously when I see it. It's a shame too, we could have had a little fun. I know we both need it.
So much, so much. Busy, busy, as that one Bokononist says, and I hope he's right. I've been particularly sober the last few days, which is good, I think. I hope it's the exhaustion, and not some thick ooze of disinterest that feels like it's replacing my blood.
Oh, today's tip: Don't try separating steel wool with your bare hands, especially if they are wet, or soft from the dishwater they're always in when you're bar-tending. On top of that, don't separate steel wool with your bare hands if you're going to be anywhere near a lime, or some other squeezable, citrus fruit.
I'm making it up as I go along...
Tuesday
Semiotics, a continuing Storree. {1}
...I was practicing guitar earlier and threw a bunch of stuff on the player, to see if anything would trigger a little fingerinspiration...
...tried the Grateful Dead, only have the one album and I haven't listened to it in years. Moved along to the Doors, and Peace Frog, which didn't do much, but was still good to hear, because it's been a while, and it's one of the best songs they ever wrote.
...and it's on the Internet radio now. I'm hearing it twice in a day when I haven't heard it for, well, a considerable amount of time, given how much I really do enjoy the song.
And, thus begins my narrative. Introducing Semiotics: Look for the Sign. Some of it will be anecdotes of the past, on slow news days; some of it anecdotes yet to be. You decide whether there's any meaning to it. Sidenote: Pandora's mix favors one of the two stereo channels over the other. Either that, or a speaker on this computer is out.
...tried the Grateful Dead, only have the one album and I haven't listened to it in years. Moved along to the Doors, and Peace Frog, which didn't do much, but was still good to hear, because it's been a while, and it's one of the best songs they ever wrote.
...and it's on the Internet radio now. I'm hearing it twice in a day when I haven't heard it for, well, a considerable amount of time, given how much I really do enjoy the song.
And, thus begins my narrative. Introducing Semiotics: Look for the Sign. Some of it will be anecdotes of the past, on slow news days; some of it anecdotes yet to be. You decide whether there's any meaning to it. Sidenote: Pandora's mix favors one of the two stereo channels over the other. Either that, or a speaker on this computer is out.
The Restaurant Rag
I'm finally starting to feel better. I've been exhausted, literally EXHAUSTED, for the last two weeks. I didn't even sleep much last night, and my cough is hoarser, and I'm still blowing a lot of snot. But, I'm finally starting to feel better. Of course, I've been saying that for a few days now.
I'm actually going to class today, and then I'll get that email to my teacher, and then the term will be over, but not before not changing my major...
Alice In Chains
Bob Marley
Booker T. & The MG's
Buddy Rich
David Bowie
Duke Ellington
Evanescence
Fleetwood Mac
Flogging Molly
Heart
Jane's Addiction
Jeff Beck
Joni Mitchell
Led Zeppelin
Lou Reed
Ludwig van Beethoven
MC5
Milla Jovovich
Muse
Neil Young
Neko Case
Nirvana
No Doubt
Patti Smith
Pixies
Radiohead
Robert Johnson
Rod Stewart
Sex Pistols
Sly & The Family Stone
Squeeze
Steely Dan
The Allman Brothers Band
The B-52's
The Clash
The Seatbelts
The Velvet Underground
The Yardbirds
Todd Rundgren
Tom Petty
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
These are the big changes I've made to my Artist Seed so far, but they don't necessarily reflect my favorite songs. I'm trying to round out the list of influences and genres. I took out a lot of the careers that I don't follow, ex. The Clash, because I only like London Calling and Combat Rock. I still haven't listened to the debut album. However, I threw my favorite Clash songs into the Song Seed, and I think the effect is better. Booker T. and Bob Marley were an even more significant cut, because I'm really not very intimate with either of them, even though I seriously dig their big hits. I'm still testing all this, but Brown Sugar and Fat Bottomed Girls kicked off today's logon, so we're getting closer. My Song Seeds are rock-heavy, but maybe if they play enough variety I'll be able to trim that list up too, or at least balance it out. I'm not hearing a lot of new stuff yet.
...another Queen song. Not sure I'm in the mood for the Bohemian Rhapsody.
Guess what? I'm PUBLISHED! That's right, I submitted my work to somebody on the Internet and he posted it on his site.
Now that I am Published, of course, I can finally begin to enjoy distinction and respect for my talents, and reap the benefits of the credit my work certainly deserves. Because, being Published means somebody else recognizes the value of my unique voice and experiences.
The Internet is a great shitcart, you know.
I'm actually going to class today, and then I'll get that email to my teacher, and then the term will be over, but not before not changing my major...
Bob Marley
Booker T. & The MG's
Buddy Rich
David Bowie
Duke Ellington
Evanescence
Fleetwood Mac
Heart
Jeff Beck
Joni Mitchell
Led Zeppelin
Ludwig van Beethoven
MC5
Milla Jovovich
Neil Young
Neko Case
Nirvana
No Doubt
Patti Smith
Pixies
Robert Johnson
Sex Pistols
Sly & The Family Stone
Steely Dan
The Allman Brothers Band
The Clash
The Seatbelts
The Velvet Underground
The Yardbirds
Todd Rundgren
Tom Petty
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
These are the big changes I've made to my Artist Seed so far, but they don't necessarily reflect my favorite songs. I'm trying to round out the list of influences and genres. I took out a lot of the careers that I don't follow, ex. The Clash, because I only like London Calling and Combat Rock. I still haven't listened to the debut album. However, I threw my favorite Clash songs into the Song Seed, and I think the effect is better. Booker T. and Bob Marley were an even more significant cut, because I'm really not very intimate with either of them, even though I seriously dig their big hits. I'm still testing all this, but Brown Sugar and Fat Bottomed Girls kicked off today's logon, so we're getting closer. My Song Seeds are rock-heavy, but maybe if they play enough variety I'll be able to trim that list up too, or at least balance it out. I'm not hearing a lot of new stuff yet.
...another Queen song. Not sure I'm in the mood for the Bohemian Rhapsody.
Guess what? I'm PUBLISHED! That's right, I submitted my work to somebody on the Internet and he posted it on his site.
Now that I am Published, of course, I can finally begin to enjoy distinction and respect for my talents, and reap the benefits of the credit my work certainly deserves. Because, being Published means somebody else recognizes the value of my unique voice and experiences.
The Internet is a great shitcart, you know.
Thursday
Come On, Come On (Demo) by: Cheap Trick [I titled lastly]
...i dunno. the randomizer seems to cling to whatever particular genre I've been editing. I assumed that, given any input, they'd be able to generate a stream that compliments the user's unique musical tastes. but I just dropped a few sixties songs in the mixer with everything else and it's all I'm getting back. Like a fruit salad with kiwi and pineapple and grapes and cantaloupe, but all you taste is strawberry. Dick & Dee Dee sound like Henry Crun and Minnie Bannister, by the way. Look it up, kids.
& this is another Byrds song, after the Eight Miles High remix. If I close up and log back on, will it just pick a new genre and stick to that, too? I wanted variety of the sort that I've never heard! I don't know if I'm upset, or just hasty.
I suppose, I guess, that you're supposed to make different radios for every genre you want, which makes the job easier on them, the lazy bastards. I thought I'd really discover some new stuff, music by guys that listen to everything like I do...wait! We have a punk song!...
Paul Weller?
Sigh. Maybe I shouldn't have the Mamas and the Papas on a playlist with Megadeth if I'm expecting the life-changing to happen. It was worth a try, though.
My head is destroying me.
& this is another Byrds song, after the Eight Miles High remix. If I close up and log back on, will it just pick a new genre and stick to that, too? I wanted variety of the sort that I've never heard! I don't know if I'm upset, or just hasty.
I suppose, I guess, that you're supposed to make different radios for every genre you want, which makes the job easier on them, the lazy bastards. I thought I'd really discover some new stuff, music by guys that listen to everything like I do...wait! We have a punk song!...
Paul Weller?
Sigh. Maybe I shouldn't have the Mamas and the Papas on a playlist with Megadeth if I'm expecting the life-changing to happen. It was worth a try, though.
My head is destroying me.
Pandorum
sick and tired because I've been up all night screwing around, wondering whether I should skip classes again today. They start in an hour.
Dropped a station on Pandora, here. I'll be perfecting the input over the next few days or weeks, to get the response I want...already killed some of the bigger bands, like Aerosmith and KISS, because the hits were too predictable. I'm trying to send the website into a tailspin, but it's just me being prideful of my musical tastes:
Alice In Chains
Bob Marley
Booker T. & The MG' S
Buddy Rich
David Bowie
Duke Ellington
Evanescence
Fleetwood Mac
Flogging Molly
Heart
Jane's Addiction
Joni Mitchell
Led Zeppelin
Lou Reed
Ludwig van Beethoven
MC5
Milla Jovovich
Muse
Neko Case
Nirvana
No Doubt
Patti Smith
Pixies
Radiohead
Robert Johnson
Rod Stewart
Sex Pistols
Sly & The Family Stone
Squeeze
Steely Dan
The Allman Brothers Band
The B-52's
The Clash
The Seatbelts
The Velvet Underground
The Yardbirds
Todd Rundgren
Tom Petty
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
These are the artist seeds, so far. I'll probably end up scratching more and more of these off in favor of song seeds, until I get a station I'm happy with. It'll help get rid of the commercial taste, too, which I don't mind, but I have CDs, you know?
A work in progress, a work in progress. It's called The Horse Radio because I was looking for a file of "The Horse" by Cliff Nobles & Co. Did you know that Misirlou is a traditional Turkish or Greek song with a title that translates to, "The Egyptian"? Dick Dale grew up hearing it--his father was Lebanese-American.
Dropped a station on Pandora, here. I'll be perfecting the input over the next few days or weeks, to get the response I want...already killed some of the bigger bands, like Aerosmith and KISS, because the hits were too predictable. I'm trying to send the website into a tailspin, but it's just me being prideful of my musical tastes:
Alice In Chains
Bob Marley
Booker T. & The MG' S
Buddy Rich
David Bowie
Duke Ellington
Evanescence
Fleetwood Mac
Flogging Molly
Heart
Jane's Addiction
Joni Mitchell
Led Zeppelin
Lou Reed
Ludwig van Beethoven
MC5
Milla Jovovich
Muse
Neko Case
Nirvana
No Doubt
Patti Smith
Pixies
Radiohead
Robert Johnson
Rod Stewart
Sex Pistols
Sly & The Family Stone
Squeeze
Steely Dan
The Allman Brothers Band
The B-52's
The Clash
The Seatbelts
The Velvet Underground
The Yardbirds
Todd Rundgren
Tom Petty
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
These are the artist seeds, so far. I'll probably end up scratching more and more of these off in favor of song seeds, until I get a station I'm happy with. It'll help get rid of the commercial taste, too, which I don't mind, but I have CDs, you know?
A work in progress, a work in progress. It's called The Horse Radio because I was looking for a file of "The Horse" by Cliff Nobles & Co. Did you know that Misirlou is a traditional Turkish or Greek song with a title that translates to, "The Egyptian"? Dick Dale grew up hearing it--his father was Lebanese-American.
Tuesday
od d rea ding ab out the su mme r in mar c h
Playing about with the title here, but I just read the first post I wrote on something else and it's odd sitting on the exact same couch reading about how the weather will be four to five months from now. Warm, the windows open and a cool breeze tickling my arm; sunny, sticky, late nights not so damned cold, the wind a blessing, no ice, and I don't have to wear a coat every where or come in and try to remember my toes; when it rains I can run around and get soaked and smile and dry off later, and the storms will be things to breathe in. I like the cold, but I like the hot better, I think. I like the comfortable the best, and the cold is no where near the comfortable.
"Your hard work certainly get result." Maow's reading part of a letter that her Chinese-oriented professor wrote to her. My physics TA freshman year was Asian...why does our school have ESL teachers trying to explain complicated mathematics? I've wondered this for, well, four years, at least. On that note, our kitchen is almost entirely Hispanic, and the dishwasher doesn't speak a word of English. So I'm trying to learn, yo estudio, and we'll see what happens with that.
"Your hard work certainly get result." Maow's reading part of a letter that her Chinese-oriented professor wrote to her. My physics TA freshman year was Asian...why does our school have ESL teachers trying to explain complicated mathematics? I've wondered this for, well, four years, at least. On that note, our kitchen is almost entirely Hispanic, and the dishwasher doesn't speak a word of English. So I'm trying to learn, yo estudio, and we'll see what happens with that.
Five for March!
March is going to be a long month. I have two weeks left of class, a week of exams, and a week of break before starting another term. Hopefully, anyway.
I'm exhausted today. I've been putting out to much at work, somehow I'm walking out with seventy or eighty dollars a night but it's not enough emotionally. My service is efficient but there's no smile anymore, I'm not putting any extra effort where it's going to be an absolute waste. I don't have enough in me to even go to class today, I'm going to finish my assignments, mail them off, sleep, wake up, and do more assignments. I need a day to rest.
Erin Express and March Madness coming up are going to make the next three weeks on the bar some of the toughest shifts I've had, Valentine's Day makes for a nice bookend, that. In two weeks if I don't get a break I'm going to quit. Rojo put in his two weeks as per his parents' stipulation. Verde thinks I hate her, and I don't, but working with her doesn't make the place any brighter anymore, and I've decided she can live with that. There isn't a soul there that brightens the place up right now, not even Katharine (I'll know when she's done seeing this new guy, but it won't matter) or You II (which is the best name I can think of--too bad you have kids). I need to cut back on the bar visits afterwards or cease them altogether, for now...something/anything? to feel a little less dizzy all the time.
I'm exhausted today. I've been putting out to much at work, somehow I'm walking out with seventy or eighty dollars a night but it's not enough emotionally. My service is efficient but there's no smile anymore, I'm not putting any extra effort where it's going to be an absolute waste. I don't have enough in me to even go to class today, I'm going to finish my assignments, mail them off, sleep, wake up, and do more assignments. I need a day to rest.
Erin Express and March Madness coming up are going to make the next three weeks on the bar some of the toughest shifts I've had, Valentine's Day makes for a nice bookend, that. In two weeks if I don't get a break I'm going to quit. Rojo put in his two weeks as per his parents' stipulation. Verde thinks I hate her, and I don't, but working with her doesn't make the place any brighter anymore, and I've decided she can live with that. There isn't a soul there that brightens the place up right now, not even Katharine (I'll know when she's done seeing this new guy, but it won't matter) or You II (which is the best name I can think of--too bad you have kids). I need to cut back on the bar visits afterwards or cease them altogether, for now...something/anything? to feel a little less dizzy all the time.
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