This is NOT Over
Here is a life in desperate need of a rimshotApril 30, 2012
Monday April 30, 1990 I Will
Remember Remembering the Night
Bill and I did our last
show. We played tons of records and said
very little outside of the PSA’s and other shit on the logs. Only one carte ate itself. I loved our time at KDI and wanted to end on
a good note. Having said that, the last
song we played was the Yardbirds “I Remember the Night” so, so much for ending
things on a good note. There’s not a
single good note anywhere in that fucking song.
Before the show PSBFH and I
took our last walk together. It’s been
awhile since we did any breaking up. I
broke down earlier in the day and called her.
All she said was, “Can we meet by the lagoon at 10pm? We should talk.”
We didn’t really have to
talk. The suggestion was a decent
gesture on her part. See, everybody’s
getting all grown up and shit. Sort of
nice, isn’t it?
We walked more than we talked
and that was sort of for the best. The
only time I almost blew everything was when I asked her, “Are you fucking
someone?” To her credit, she stayed
cool. She took my arm and said, gently,
“You know you can’t ask me that anymore.”
We stopped walking to look at
the moon reflecting across the water.
“I think I still love you and
that really sucks.”
“I know,” she soothed, “but
we have to end everything now and move on.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling.
And we kissed, and didn’t say
anything else. We walked to her car and
I tried to open the door for her. It was
locked. We laughed. She kissed me on the cheek, unlocked the door
and drove away.
And that was that.
April 29, 2012
Sunday April 29, 1990 Second
High Scratch
Bowled a 192 tonight! I also received an award for my score of 228
from earlier in the season. It was the
second highest scratch game of the season.
Steve and Chris were consistently good each week and their average
nights were far and away better than mine.
But it was nice for my inconsistency to be rewarded when the fates
allowed it to veer towards the almost great.
Watched Unplugged with Garv
in the TV Room. Michelle Shocked and the
Indigo Girls played separate sets and then they played with Jules (or is it
Jools, or is that the Squeeze guy, or is he the Squeeze guy?). Whoever he was/is, I hope he didn’t think
he’d get lucky with anyone on the show that night.
Then we watched David
Sanborn’s show. The Indigo Girls were
also on that show. They’re everywhere
and nowhere through the miracle of television, much like my mind. Sonic Youth made its (or is it their) network
television debut and tv is not ready for rock like this. The evening ended with all the performers on
stage doing Goodnight Irene into I Wanna Be Yer Dog. Kim Gordon kicked ass, did I mention I love
her? Even Sandborn made rude noises on
his sax. The last number came crashing
down, a guy desperately tried to smash a recorder as the credits rolled.
April 28, 2012
Saturday April 28, 1990 Too Hungover for “Nice”
Susan poked me at 9am saying,
“I’ll drive you to work. You can’t be
stinking up my couch all day.”
It already smelled like cat
urine when I passed out on it, how much worse could I make things?
Judith’s friend Lisa hung out
with me at work. We talked about Mother
MacAuley and the South Side. Nice to see
those kids out here in the wilderness.
We also talked about Nolde (Emil, not Nick and I guess it’s Nolte, Nick
not Emil). I guess Emil Nolde is the
kind of guy you are supposed to talk about in college.
I don’t know much about
German Expressionism. I know most of the
artists in that genre are probably German and I know I’ll never marry a German
girl…not after what I’ve been through with the Scotch-Irish!
Wha?
Amy and Marie stopped by at
the end of my shift. They invited me to
watch movies with them in their dorm room.
I am always up for that, especially with those girls. I have nothing but fun when I am around them.
Erika and Chris were cleaning
up the room when I finally returned with plans of crawling into bed and
shutting myself off from the rest of the damned day. Erika said, “It was nice to see Susan. Any chance of anything happening with you
two?”
I said, “She’s a little too
country for me.”
I said that not because I
believe it or even want it to be true.
She’s actually worldlier (if that’s an actual word) than I am in a lot
of things that count. And, even though I
am over her, if I thought there was a chance I’d be over being over her in five
fucking minutes. I think I said what I
said because I wanted this conversation about her to be over, but then, who
knows why I say things?
“Too country?” Erika asked, having no idea how downright
mean (now who’s too country) my suggestion was meant to be, “I don’t know what
that means. I don’t think she’s too
county.”
“Have you seen her in a
swimsuit?”
Ok, as unnecessarily mean as
that was, it didn’t end the conversation.
The smart-ass remark just prolonged it or inspired Erika to correct
me. As life goes on, it and I get
stupider.
“See,” said Erika, “why do
you have to be mean like that? Some
people just want to be nice.”
Maybe, but I was too hungover
for “nice” today. Flopped on my bed and
slept, face down until movie time with Amy and Marnie.
FUN! Whatever they are, they are definitely not
too country, although I think Marnie is from Virginia.
Enjoyed the films, ate weird
food and drank wine. There was a good
mix of folks in their room. Vanessa’s
mother hen instincts were balanced by Ruth’s innocent weirdness, Weird Matt
somehow managed to cancel out Pretentious Matt and Amy and Marnie badgered Tom
and Laurent (who they called “Tom-Dick” and “Larry”) until their asses left. I like Tom but if he’s going to be here with
that other guy they can both leave.
Then we all left. We went to the Flamingo and drank beer until
everyone was asked to leave. Yes! It wasn’t just me this time, and we were only
asked to leave because the bar was closing.
April 27, 2012
Friday April 27, 1990
Drinking Our Way Back to Nature
John and Holly came by
early…TOO DAMNED EARLY…I think they were going to see the dopeman. That’s fine for them. I want no part of that these days, especially
with the judgment those two show. I don’t
trust any of John’s friends. Even
me. Especially me. And if it’s Holly’s dopeman, that guy is a
total fucking creep…even among dopemen.
This is why I will always
prefer booze to dope. Boozing with
friends makes for better friends all around.
Dope makes us befriend creeps just to go off and forget how creepy the
world is getting. But maybe that’s just
me. Maybe some folks become great
friends with their friendly neighborhood dopeman. Maybe, but I don’t think so.
Played hoops with Chris. He doesn’t need a dopeman to be cool. We were both excited about the Bulls
game. Erika invited Susan over to watch
with us. That is weird. I think Susan is the only one of my friends
Chris’ wife likes and maybe she wants to be friends with more girls or something. Cool with me.
I like Sue. Just didn’t think she
was a basketball girl.
We all had fun. I kept myself to two beers in the first half
and three in the second half. The Bulls
won and Susan invited me back to her place for White Russians. I really don’t like them anymore but I drank
the damned things because I like Susan.
I actually think I like Susan a lot more now that I don’t think I love
her. Does that make sense?
Of course it doesn’t.
After the White Russians,
Susan agreed to drink shots of whiskey to be social with me. Finally, society working for me…I think.
We went to the bars and saw
Corey. I asked her how things went with
the bartender from Amnesia. She pointed
at her mouth and did a gag-face. I was
sort of happy that was a disaster.
Susan and I drank slowly and
happily. We laughed a lot and then we
left. We took a walk through Huber
Park. I thought maybe she was going to
pump me for information about John and Holly, but she just wanted to talk about
shit in general. So did I. We just wanted to be out of the bar and out
in nature, even if it was the middle of the night. It was a beautiful night and nature is
beautiful, even if you can’t see much of it in the dark. You know it’s there and you feel safe and
good surrounded by beauty. I don’t care
if this makes us sound like hippies. We
know we are not like those stupid bastards.
We can hate hippies and love nature no matter what anyone says. Damn hippies had the better part of this
century, they can’t have the whole goddamned earth as well.
I walked Susan back to her
place and we got there about 4:30am. She
went straight up to bed cuz we drank a lot by the end of the night and the walk
didn’t sober us up as much as we thought it would. I sat on her couch, smoked the last of the
fucking Tareytons and then passed out.
Here’s to a beautiful, uncomplicated night.
April 26, 2012
Thursday April 26, 1990
Charity
Tradition was held in our
dorm room tonight. John is having
trouble with his neighbors. In our
infinite justice and wisdom, we decided all neighbors must be made to suffer so
we brought the festivities over to A Wing.
John showed up at 5pm and was
ready to start drinking. That’s why we
love him. Buttweasel, JP and I played
Nintendo and drank. Got my ass kicked at
TECMO more and more as the evening progressed.
I started out losing and the beer seemed to make Chris and John more
powerful while I stayed the same or got worse.
Just like a goddamned Jerry
Lee Lewis country song!
Holly came over. She was soaking wet. She said she got dumped. Right in the goddamned lagoon she got dumped. I asked, “Who was your boyfriend,
Aquaman?” She laughed and asked if she
could take off her clothes. Wow, I’m
glad tradition was here tonight.
I honestly don’t know what to
make of Holly feeling comfortable enough to strip down to her unmentionables in
our room. Her roomie was having
relations so no way she was getting in there.
I guess Chris and I seem harmless enough, and for the most part, we
are. Also she was high as shit so
clearly she didn’t give a fuck about us or our company (John). Actually John planned on crashing with us so
he gave her a big t-shirt and sweats he brought in a duffle bag. I’m a goddamned Jerry Lee Lewis country song
and John is a fucking boy scout with a cute, already wet girl wearing his
clothes. That’s the way it goes some
nights.
Then we all got drunker. In Holly’s case she added “drunk” to whatever
else she already was.
Shawn and Sonia came
over. Then Bill. John and I started yelling at each
other. I don’t think he called me a race
traitor this time, but he was making fun of something I was wearing. Then I tried busting a chair over his big ass
shoulders but it was plastic. It bounced
way the hell off him and broke against the wall.
Nothing was going my way.
We smuggled the chair out of
A-5 and exchanged it with a less broken one from a more unfortunate floor in A
Wing. A-2 I think, but I could be
wrong. Holly knew someone who opened the
crash door for us. Never open the crash
door for us.
Bill’s assessment of the
whole evening was, “Everybody was like ‘I am going to get my way and if I can’t
I am going to be really, really loud.”
That sounds like us.
The night ended with Russ
coming over to ask how we were doin’.
Then we watched Evil Dead II.
Everyone had a damned good
time, except for the chair.
April 25, 2012
Wednesday April 25, 1990 It’s
Weird and I Like It
Sleeping at a bus stop sucks
and I am never going to do that again.
It was still the smart thing to do given yesterday’s choices. I found a pack of Tareytons in my pocket. Probably ran out of cigarettes last night and
Pete took pity on me. I couldn’t have
gotten drunk enough to buy these old man cigarettes myself.
Too hungover to make any
sense out of the box scores in the paper.
The way the SOX have been playing, that’s probably for the best. At some point today I swore to give up
baseball and that pledge lasted several hours.
A new record!
Whiled away hangover time by
playing much TECMO Bowl with Buttweasel.
His DICKER ran rough-shot all over my BO. Not even the intangibility maneuver could
help me today. At least the video game
took my mind off the only cigarettes I had to my name. Smoked one of the Tareytons earlier in the
day and gave serious consideration to quitting smoking altogether.
Recovered in time to attend
Tom Near’s Elvis program. Shawn actually
got there before me. Haven’t seen much
of him lately. He remembered to bring
One Night With You. He also brought
Sonia. She’s probably the reason I
haven’t seen much of him lately. I guess
she’s a good enough reason and I am happy for them. She goes against type for Shawn. I usually see him with what most would
consider “obvious beauties” all pouty-faced and big-titted…women that are part
of what makes the modern world so damned ugly.
Not like I’m making the
modern world all that nice looking…
This girl is not ugly. She is short.
She has bug-eyes and smells like a hippie but is funny as hell. I’m glad to see my friend date someone he
likes, not someone who seems like one of the beautiful people. I don’t really have anything against the
beautiful people. I’d certainly fuck one
if given the chance.
Yeah, I’m a total jag.
After Tom’s program I went
over to Lincoln and drank beer with Judith.
We only had a few and went to bed.
Not sex, we just slept together.
It’s something we enjoy doing together.
It’s weird and I like it.
April 24, 2012
Tuesday April 24, 1990 Almost
Total Victory
SOX lost today. They’ve lost their last four and nothing
seems to be going right. That is
baseball and that is the blues. Two
things in one sentence I really only pretend to understand.
When Frisch sat in on the
POLS Floor Class, the best thing he said was, “The beginning of wisdom is
wonder.” So maybe instead of acting like
I know things like baseball or the blues I should begin with wonder. I should ask myself what attracts me to these
things, why I think they are great or noble or worthwhile in the absence of
something better.
But I’ll probably just go on
pretending that I know something about them.
At least I know this is a defect.
Megs called again. This time she was not crying. She was pissed. She is sure that Note is screwing around on
her, and the fucked up thing is she tried to tell me that he is doing it with
my ex. If Megs is uber-paranoid and
wants to draw me into her world of substance-fueled paranoia, well it fucking
worked!
They do know each other.
I called PSBFH twice. No answer.
Can’t and don’t want to remember the last time I called her and then
called right back with no answer. That’s
no way to live for her or me. The only
person who wins is Mother Fucking Bell.
If PSBFH is fucking Note,
that’s one step closer to being rich which is what she wants to be. Whether she’s just blowing me off or starting
something with another guy, I have to be fine with that even if it is with one
of my so-called friends. Bastard! Seriously, if there’s one thing I am
beginning to learn in this life it is when I don’t have a choice.
Walked to the
Candlelight. It was a Tuesday so it was
just Pete and me. He poured the whiskey
I drank it. I got existentially drunk. Tried to walk home but ended up sleeping at a
bus stop. At least I had enough
self-control not to humiliate myself in front of or on the phone with
PSBFH. For me, that is almost a complete
victory.
April 23, 2012
Monday April 23, 1990 Simple
and Painful
Megs called several times
today. She called as early as
8:30am. I hate when people do that shit
to me. I told her I hadn’t seen Note
socially in weeks, and that is true. We
go through periods when we don’t hang out much.
He’s in the Xenophon class but I try my best not to make eye contact in
there, let alone talk to any of the other students. It’s not the same without Jen-O, but because
of her I can’t quit the class either.
I’m a fool but that’s not the
point here.
I tried to tell Megs if she
has a problem with Note she should call him, talk to him or come up here and do
something. Calling me isn’t going to
help anything. If she wants me to be
sympathetic I can’t do that either. I
have learned that if someone wants to blow you off, they are going to and
there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.
Anybody can say “no” to anyone or anything at anytime.
I think life can be that
simple and painful sometimes.
April 22, 2012
Sunday April 22, 1990
Listening to It and Loving It
SOX lose. In the only inning worthy of note,
offensively that is, Jermaine Jackson aka Sammy Sosa drove in a run with a
sacrifice fly. If you’re going to have a
speedy outfielder whose speed and defense are just ok at best they better be
able to do things with the bat. A sac
fly is a nice start.
What do I know from
baseball? As much as I love watching the
game I wasn’t much of a player and never played it at a high level. Why do I think I know so much? I don’t even possess enough second hand
knowledge of the game to say the things I say.
I’ve only had one conversation in my entire fucking life with a real
baseball player about real baseball shit.
Future generations of
baseball fans will most likely not know the name of Ron Coomer. I know him because he was a few years ahead
of me at Lockport High. I used to moon
around after his kid sister. Is moon the
proper term? There’s another thing I
don’t know. Add it to the list!
Anyway I ran into Coomer last
year at TnT’s. I bought him a beer and
told him he was the best baseball player I ever saw at the high school
level. That was not bullshit. It’s an old cliché but you could not tell from
his face if the team was up by five runs, down by two, if he just made a
throwing error or hit a three run homer.
He was nice enough to talk to
me as we drank the beer. He is still in
the minors but described the difference between baseball at this level and what
most of us did as kids. “When we were
kids it was just see the ball and hit it.
Now there are calculations that go off with different pitchers,
different situations and sometimes with each pitch and then you have to turn
all of that off and just try to see the ball and hit it.”
Devin made me a Husker
tape. I am listening to it and loving it
as I write this.
Saturday April 21, 1990 A
Fuck I Could Not Give
Have not read a newspaper or
listened to the radio in two days.
Regarding the WhiteSOX or what is going on in the world, a fuck I could
not give. I did go out super damn late with
AimDog and Marnie. We drank too much and
no one tried to have sex with anyone. I
don’t know if that makes for exciting college meandering but it is my
meandering and I take responsibility for it.
No I don’t.
I made good on my word from
yesterday. I have a double-sized hangover
this morning as I write this. That’s
something I guess.
April 21, 2012
Friday April 20, 1990 Weeks
to Say Goodbye
Strange not to be hungover on
a Friday. I’ll make up for it tonight
and have a double hangover on Saturday.
Yay?
Had lunch with PSBFH and that
was nice. It’s weird, we don’t care if
people see us together. I’m sure the
people around us don’t care that much.
They’ve got their lives to fuck up and we have ours.
Actually, hanging out with
her these days is one of the least fucked up things I’ve ever done. I am going into this with my eyes wide
open. She is going to be gone forever
soon. It is just taking us a few weeks
to say goodbye.
No baseball today. Stopped in Mr. Sorrenson’s office to ask a
Xenophon question. We got totally
sidetracked and talked about the trial of the Twitchells. It’s even more fun to say. Say it five times fast.
It’s not fun to think
about…these parents let their kid die of a bowel obstruction while they prayed
over him. I may one day be felled by my
own bowels.
???
But if that day should come I
hope there’s a doctor who can try to help me.
I’m sure there will be prayer as well.
People will pray for the smell to go away.
Sorrenson wasn’t so much
interested in the morality of the couple, the boring-ass old, ‘what do you
think of them damn people’ argument that I hate so damned much. Instead he raised questions about the trial
in Massachusetts and our regime in general.
Good government protects its
citizens. Good government should be able
to help prevent preventable deaths and hold responsible those who would prevent
the prevention of preventable death.
He said it better than I just
did.
Then he wondered about the
Twitchell and the limits of liberalism.
Liberal democracy is supposed to be good or establishes good government
because it recognizes two spheres, the public and the private. The private sphere is the realm of ideas or
opinions, not actions. Actions are part
of the public sphere and it is the responsibility of government to step in where
the actions of one or more parties affect the lives or livelihoods of other
parties. But in the case of the
Twitchells or those who advocate healing through prayer, what can government
do? It needs to protect the lives of its
citizens, but what about the sanctity of the private sphere?
The classical political
philosophers (Xenophon, Plato, Aristotle and others) didn’t believe in a
distinction between the public and private sphere. They thought that good government includes
informing and reforming wrong opinions, even if they only exist in the realm of
private thought. Good government for the
classics educates its citizenry on the good for humans as humans. They thought society and humanity depended on
such knowledge.
Limited government seems, by
definition, to only be able to punish bad actions (letting the child die by not
seeking treatment) and unable to educate opinions in a meaningful way.
I’ve said this all very badly
but a worthwhile talk with one of the few faculty members here who seems to be
worth a damn.
Hmmm…
April 19, 2012
Thursday April 19, 1990 High and Crying and Not as Cool
Didn’t get to drink enough of my regular too much at Tradition. Susan and I got in a stupid argument. Aren’t they all? She questioned my judgment on and involvement with PSBFH.
She said, “It’s not like I care a whole bunch at this point, just please don’t expect any sympathy when it falls apart again.”
The primary objective is to let it fall apart, and have sex while it does. Boy is Susan messed up. At least she said please.
Decided that Tradition was destined to be no fun tonight so I went home. Megs called. That was no fun either. She was high and crying. None of this is like her, or how she used to be. She used to be the coolest kid around. I think Note is fucking her over. But maybe that’s what happens when cool meets cool, and according to Megs he is way cooler than we could ever hope to be.
She may be right, but by her own fucked up logic, she shouldn’t have gotten involved with him in the first place. What do I know? I like them both and I am just writing this thing.
Now back to the regularly scheduled fucking up of my own life.
Didn’t get to drink enough of my regular too much at Tradition. Susan and I got in a stupid argument. Aren’t they all? She questioned my judgment on and involvement with PSBFH.
She said, “It’s not like I care a whole bunch at this point, just please don’t expect any sympathy when it falls apart again.”
The primary objective is to let it fall apart, and have sex while it does. Boy is Susan messed up. At least she said please.
Decided that Tradition was destined to be no fun tonight so I went home. Megs called. That was no fun either. She was high and crying. None of this is like her, or how she used to be. She used to be the coolest kid around. I think Note is fucking her over. But maybe that’s what happens when cool meets cool, and according to Megs he is way cooler than we could ever hope to be.
She may be right, but by her own fucked up logic, she shouldn’t have gotten involved with him in the first place. What do I know? I like them both and I am just writing this thing.
Now back to the regularly scheduled fucking up of my own life.
April 18, 2012
Wednesday April 18, 1990 You Can’t Do That to an Orphan
Stupid, fat Clemons and his Sox of Red beat Chicago’s SOX of White. The boys touched him up for 4 earned runs but it wasn’t enough. I hope this doesn’t sound judgmental or cruel, but I just want to punch that guy in his fat fucking face.
Not getting a whole lot of satisfaction out of my life these days. I mean I’ll choose life, even this life, over death every time but other than breaking up with you know who, stuff just isn’t fun. The beer has lost its flavor.
Knowing me, that can all change in a moment. I’m fucked up that way.
Read this crazy thing in the Trib about how Lockport’s city council wants to annex land and set up a village for international orphans. As if the poor bastards haven’t been through enough. Once they arrive in my hometown the motherless are going to want to be citiless as well.
Stupid, fat Clemons and his Sox of Red beat Chicago’s SOX of White. The boys touched him up for 4 earned runs but it wasn’t enough. I hope this doesn’t sound judgmental or cruel, but I just want to punch that guy in his fat fucking face.
Not getting a whole lot of satisfaction out of my life these days. I mean I’ll choose life, even this life, over death every time but other than breaking up with you know who, stuff just isn’t fun. The beer has lost its flavor.
Knowing me, that can all change in a moment. I’m fucked up that way.
Read this crazy thing in the Trib about how Lockport’s city council wants to annex land and set up a village for international orphans. As if the poor bastards haven’t been through enough. Once they arrive in my hometown the motherless are going to want to be citiless as well.
April 17, 2012
Tuesday April 17, 1990 Stand Up and Be Counted, or Do a Better Job of Hiding
Lots of debate, in the Post and here on campus over whether or not illegal aliens ought to be counted in the census. My thought is how do you count those who do not want to be counted, and should you try to help (through counting) those who don't want your help and certainly don't want to be counted?
By the way, I'm sure it is all more complicated than that. But should it be? I'm just a kid, my mom's dad came here as a kid. He came here to work, not to be part of some larger debate of what citizenship means, or what representation is for. Maybe you’re screwed and sign on to those things instantly, upon entering the border you become part of the cacophonous ideological opera where the chorus sings, each in its own way, "What the fuck do you want from me?"
I'm sure that's not what is happening in this great country of ours.
Why should I give half a fig for these weighty matters when I am having the time of my life breaking up with PSBFH? Stayed awake spooning until late and broke up a coupla times. I will say we had a few disagreeable words at one point. We started talking about the whole census thing....my mistake, I brought it up. She asked me why I seemed to go out of my way to define myself as an immigrant of a certain variety. Honestly, I think most people go out of their way to define themselves as something whether they know their birth parents or not. Maybe the bigger point is we all make up our own stories. This is not meant to be some sort of confessional. This is simply the way things are, as I see them.
Lots of debate, in the Post and here on campus over whether or not illegal aliens ought to be counted in the census. My thought is how do you count those who do not want to be counted, and should you try to help (through counting) those who don't want your help and certainly don't want to be counted?
By the way, I'm sure it is all more complicated than that. But should it be? I'm just a kid, my mom's dad came here as a kid. He came here to work, not to be part of some larger debate of what citizenship means, or what representation is for. Maybe you’re screwed and sign on to those things instantly, upon entering the border you become part of the cacophonous ideological opera where the chorus sings, each in its own way, "What the fuck do you want from me?"
I'm sure that's not what is happening in this great country of ours.
Why should I give half a fig for these weighty matters when I am having the time of my life breaking up with PSBFH? Stayed awake spooning until late and broke up a coupla times. I will say we had a few disagreeable words at one point. We started talking about the whole census thing....my mistake, I brought it up. She asked me why I seemed to go out of my way to define myself as an immigrant of a certain variety. Honestly, I think most people go out of their way to define themselves as something whether they know their birth parents or not. Maybe the bigger point is we all make up our own stories. This is not meant to be some sort of confessional. This is simply the way things are, as I see them.
April 16, 2012
Monday April 16, 1990 Garbo Gets Her Wish
She vanted to be alone. I guess one doesn't get more alone than dead. Who knows? Maybe we'll all find out together. If we do, that's gonna suck for poor Garbo.
She pulled her final Garbo.
Speaking of that, it's late and I have the room to myself.
She vanted to be alone. I guess one doesn't get more alone than dead. Who knows? Maybe we'll all find out together. If we do, that's gonna suck for poor Garbo.
She pulled her final Garbo.
Speaking of that, it's late and I have the room to myself.
April 15, 2012
Sunday April 15, 1990 I Hope That's How it Works
If I had a significant amount of money I'd be nervous today. Oh well, if I give it to the government it's safer than putting it in a savings and loan...uh, until the government gives my money to a savings and loan that depleted all the savings on bad and/or crooked loans. But if that keeps happening, all our money will be worthless. Then things get interesting.
All drug economy! I'm ready baby. Sign me up.
More thoughts on Amy from last night. I do not think she is an international whore or a whore of any kind. Amy (and her friend Marnie) are the nicest bad girls I have ever met. They're mouthy, they can scream and smoke at the same time, and both of them can drink me under the table. I'm a lucky guy just to know girls with such qualities.
I don't need to worry about liking Amy or anyone these days. It's enough that they like hanging out with me. Come to think of it, no one needs to worry about taxes today. It's fucking Sunday. That's like an extra day before we have to pay.
At least I hope that's how it works.
If I had a significant amount of money I'd be nervous today. Oh well, if I give it to the government it's safer than putting it in a savings and loan...uh, until the government gives my money to a savings and loan that depleted all the savings on bad and/or crooked loans. But if that keeps happening, all our money will be worthless. Then things get interesting.
All drug economy! I'm ready baby. Sign me up.
More thoughts on Amy from last night. I do not think she is an international whore or a whore of any kind. Amy (and her friend Marnie) are the nicest bad girls I have ever met. They're mouthy, they can scream and smoke at the same time, and both of them can drink me under the table. I'm a lucky guy just to know girls with such qualities.
I don't need to worry about liking Amy or anyone these days. It's enough that they like hanging out with me. Come to think of it, no one needs to worry about taxes today. It's fucking Sunday. That's like an extra day before we have to pay.
At least I hope that's how it works.
Saturday April 14, 1990 Two Useless First Thoughts
WhiteSOX are three up and one down after splitting the first two of a three game series with Cleveland. I don't blame the SOX for sleepwalking through the first game. The two times I've been to Cleveland, my first thought upon entering that city has been 'How long until I can leave this shithole?'
Spent some of the day with a sore head. Paradise Club, pfffft! That fuck dump is more like Pain in my Ass Club. Amy and her friend Ruth (not Mark, Bill and Judith's friend Ruth) came over. My first thought was 'I know a lot of Ruths seeing as I know two and grew up knowing none, or maybe one who was close to my age'
My second thought was 'I want to see more of this Amy girl' We talked about Europe. She's been there twice, I've been there once. She's going back this summer and I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to rub enough nickels together and go back. Maybe if I find two magic fucking nickels...?
I think Amy is rich, or ambitious, or an international whore. Who knows? She seems too nice to be an international whore, but then that might just be her angle. And if anybody knows how to think like an international whore, it's me.
Yes it isn't.
WhiteSOX are three up and one down after splitting the first two of a three game series with Cleveland. I don't blame the SOX for sleepwalking through the first game. The two times I've been to Cleveland, my first thought upon entering that city has been 'How long until I can leave this shithole?'
Spent some of the day with a sore head. Paradise Club, pfffft! That fuck dump is more like Pain in my Ass Club. Amy and her friend Ruth (not Mark, Bill and Judith's friend Ruth) came over. My first thought was 'I know a lot of Ruths seeing as I know two and grew up knowing none, or maybe one who was close to my age'
My second thought was 'I want to see more of this Amy girl' We talked about Europe. She's been there twice, I've been there once. She's going back this summer and I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to rub enough nickels together and go back. Maybe if I find two magic fucking nickels...?
I think Amy is rich, or ambitious, or an international whore. Who knows? She seems too nice to be an international whore, but then that might just be her angle. And if anybody knows how to think like an international whore, it's me.
Yes it isn't.
April 13, 2012
Friday April 13, 1990 Until the Next Time
I woke up this morning sure that I would hear some bad fucking news today. I decided I would enjoy what I could until said bad news presented itself. Had a nice lunch.
Buttweasle took off for the weekend so I had the joint to myself. Thought I'd be able to play guitar but my neighbor and her boyfriend kept telling me to turn it down. No wonder I never talk to them. Uncultured motherfuckers, don't know great bad music when they hear it!
Jeanz stopped by. We drank beer and watched Imagine. My neighbor's boyfriend came over and said I could make all the noise I wanted now. They were taking Kelly to the emergency room. I thought about plugging in my guitar but now I wanted to keep watching movies and drink with my friend. Wish they decided to take my neighbor to see someone earlier.
Engles called and asked us if we wanted to go to the Paradise Club with him. I hadn't been back there since the last time I got thrown out so I wanted to see how the place had changed. Too much whiskey washed down with not enough beer to fill me up and make me less ambitious. When Mark told me that the bartender told him they weren't serving me anymore, I declared, "I ain't coming back here until the next time!"
I couldn't have been that drunk if I remembered saying something that stupid.
I woke up this morning sure that I would hear some bad fucking news today. I decided I would enjoy what I could until said bad news presented itself. Had a nice lunch.
Buttweasle took off for the weekend so I had the joint to myself. Thought I'd be able to play guitar but my neighbor and her boyfriend kept telling me to turn it down. No wonder I never talk to them. Uncultured motherfuckers, don't know great bad music when they hear it!
Jeanz stopped by. We drank beer and watched Imagine. My neighbor's boyfriend came over and said I could make all the noise I wanted now. They were taking Kelly to the emergency room. I thought about plugging in my guitar but now I wanted to keep watching movies and drink with my friend. Wish they decided to take my neighbor to see someone earlier.
Engles called and asked us if we wanted to go to the Paradise Club with him. I hadn't been back there since the last time I got thrown out so I wanted to see how the place had changed. Too much whiskey washed down with not enough beer to fill me up and make me less ambitious. When Mark told me that the bartender told him they weren't serving me anymore, I declared, "I ain't coming back here until the next time!"
I couldn't have been that drunk if I remembered saying something that stupid.
April 12, 2012
Thursday April 12, 1990 The Last Goddamn Ride
PSBFH dropped me off at Tradition (Tradition - the only thing in my life worth capitalizing) on her way out of town. She looked at John's crappy house and asked me, "This is where you go every Thursday?"
Yes.
"Kinda pathetic Clinky."
It is my great hope that she's using her old pet name for me out of cruelty rather than a sign of some last remaining feelings from those days of love.
Anyway, I use it here out of cruelty, mostly directed at me for allowing myself to be called something so stupid. I should've been Sweet Dick.
As I got out of the car I asked her, "And you're going where this weekend? To your parents' club to break up with the 40 year old quack of animal medicine who put your dog to sleep three years ago?"
"We can't go to the club. Everyone is mad at Dr. Ray for dating me."
Maybe the people there were more decent than I thought. I thanked her for the ride and got the fuck out of the Thunderbird. I hope it's the last goddamn ride I ever take in that thing.
Holly and John were the only ones at Tradition at this point and I asked, "Who wants to go in on a bottle of Thunderbird with me?"
No takers.
Regular drinking, no street wine, mostly beer and a little of the good Scotch John stole from the liquor store last summer.
Day off for the SOX. I still don't understand why they opened in Chicago and played Game Two in Milwaukee (or at one of the eight places that host Brewer and Packer games in Wisconsin). It's not enough for the Brewers to suck in one stadium, they have to have two. The whole state needs to see them suck, and apparently can't go two days without seeing them suck. Some cheese-eating Muscovite from Madison made a law in what passes their state government (which is more Politburo then democratic assembly) saying, "Our precious Brewers can only play once in Chicago then they must return to the State!"
Why am I hurling so much animosity at the Brewers? I sort of like the Brewers. I like Wisconsin too, it's pretty up there.
I'm an idiot.
Now that I think of it, maybe it is only the Packers who play in two stadiums.
Yes, I'm definitely an idiot.
PSBFH dropped me off at Tradition (Tradition - the only thing in my life worth capitalizing) on her way out of town. She looked at John's crappy house and asked me, "This is where you go every Thursday?"
Yes.
"Kinda pathetic Clinky."
It is my great hope that she's using her old pet name for me out of cruelty rather than a sign of some last remaining feelings from those days of love.
Anyway, I use it here out of cruelty, mostly directed at me for allowing myself to be called something so stupid. I should've been Sweet Dick.
As I got out of the car I asked her, "And you're going where this weekend? To your parents' club to break up with the 40 year old quack of animal medicine who put your dog to sleep three years ago?"
"We can't go to the club. Everyone is mad at Dr. Ray for dating me."
Maybe the people there were more decent than I thought. I thanked her for the ride and got the fuck out of the Thunderbird. I hope it's the last goddamn ride I ever take in that thing.
Holly and John were the only ones at Tradition at this point and I asked, "Who wants to go in on a bottle of Thunderbird with me?"
No takers.
Regular drinking, no street wine, mostly beer and a little of the good Scotch John stole from the liquor store last summer.
Day off for the SOX. I still don't understand why they opened in Chicago and played Game Two in Milwaukee (or at one of the eight places that host Brewer and Packer games in Wisconsin). It's not enough for the Brewers to suck in one stadium, they have to have two. The whole state needs to see them suck, and apparently can't go two days without seeing them suck. Some cheese-eating Muscovite from Madison made a law in what passes their state government (which is more Politburo then democratic assembly) saying, "Our precious Brewers can only play once in Chicago then they must return to the State!"
Why am I hurling so much animosity at the Brewers? I sort of like the Brewers. I like Wisconsin too, it's pretty up there.
I'm an idiot.
Now that I think of it, maybe it is only the Packers who play in two stadiums.
Yes, I'm definitely an idiot.
April 11, 2012
Wed April 11, 1990 Don't You Have Somewhere Else You Can Be Right Now
Forgot to mention that Haliczer gave me an A on the Spain report. Apparently he had some sense that I was in desperate need for a break and I thank him for it. I celebrated my A by doing nothing of consequence today. Time well spent.
I smoked cigarettes with the gang in the lobby. When everyone grew weary of talking about how there will never be a band like the Kinks again, they wandered off and I stopped by the front desk to see PSBFH.
We didn't make any plans for the weekend. This was her weekend off and she said she was definitely going home to finally break up with Baldy. I think she could tell I didn't care, but maybe it helps her to say it someone. Either that or she could tell that I was pretending not to care and kept going on about her plans to leave the guy.
If she doesn't break it off with him this weekend it will be the next one, or the one after that or some random weekend ten years from now. The guy is a tool and deserves to be dumped. He gave her a watch a few months ago. That's a stupid thing to buy a woman or anyone. It's a gift that says 'Don't you have somewhere else you can be right now?'
Forgot to mention that Haliczer gave me an A on the Spain report. Apparently he had some sense that I was in desperate need for a break and I thank him for it. I celebrated my A by doing nothing of consequence today. Time well spent.
I smoked cigarettes with the gang in the lobby. When everyone grew weary of talking about how there will never be a band like the Kinks again, they wandered off and I stopped by the front desk to see PSBFH.
We didn't make any plans for the weekend. This was her weekend off and she said she was definitely going home to finally break up with Baldy. I think she could tell I didn't care, but maybe it helps her to say it someone. Either that or she could tell that I was pretending not to care and kept going on about her plans to leave the guy.
If she doesn't break it off with him this weekend it will be the next one, or the one after that or some random weekend ten years from now. The guy is a tool and deserves to be dumped. He gave her a watch a few months ago. That's a stupid thing to buy a woman or anyone. It's a gift that says 'Don't you have somewhere else you can be right now?'
April 10, 2012
Tuesday April 10, 1990 Sharing Knowledge and Ignorance
Bill and I did the radio show until 2am, then Sonia and Shawn took us for a ride to see the zombies of Malta (not a band...yet). With all that necessary activity last night, stretching into early this morning, I had to scramble to put together my report for the post-Renaissance Spain class.
Before today I knew nothing of Napoleon's invasion of Spain, and now, after my report, neither does the rest of the class.
Sharing knowledge and ignorance, that's what university is all about isn't it?
I went first so I could daydream about the SOX the rest of the time. They are undefeated. They are in a tie for first place with about half the other teams in the West. And if they lose today, I'll be crushed.
Came home and flipped on the dumb baseball show on the cable sports thing. I've got to say, these jerks in Connecticut do a lot better job at covering football. Everyone does. Nobody gives a shit about baseball anymore. If I was smart, neither would I. Then again, I'm all about sharing ignorance so god save our great game.
Ignorance.
Tried to catch the SOX score on the cable sports thing, but Chris came home from his late class. I had to click over and make like I was watching the 10 o'clock news. I don't know why but I can't let people know I love baseball. I just can't.
Hey, did Napoleon need a reason to invade Spain?
If he did, I didn't adequately cover it in my report, and if I don't understand something that important, that historic, how can I be expected to know why I must hide my love for baseball?
Too tired to go out and make trouble tonight. Bad radio and chasing non-existent zombies can take a lot out of a person. Just think how exhausted I’d be if we actually caught or re-killed one and I had to spend the rest of the evening celebrating that.
Drank a few cans of beer and then Megs called. She doesn't usually call two nights in a row. She didn't have a lot to say. A lot of ums and home shit that she knows I don't care about...so I ask her when she's coming up here to see Note. She changed the subject and hustled me off the phone.
Oh well. SOX won. They're 2-0 and definitely going to the World Series. I drank one more beer to celebrate their pending world championship in secret and went to bed.
Bill and I did the radio show until 2am, then Sonia and Shawn took us for a ride to see the zombies of Malta (not a band...yet). With all that necessary activity last night, stretching into early this morning, I had to scramble to put together my report for the post-Renaissance Spain class.
Before today I knew nothing of Napoleon's invasion of Spain, and now, after my report, neither does the rest of the class.
Sharing knowledge and ignorance, that's what university is all about isn't it?
I went first so I could daydream about the SOX the rest of the time. They are undefeated. They are in a tie for first place with about half the other teams in the West. And if they lose today, I'll be crushed.
Came home and flipped on the dumb baseball show on the cable sports thing. I've got to say, these jerks in Connecticut do a lot better job at covering football. Everyone does. Nobody gives a shit about baseball anymore. If I was smart, neither would I. Then again, I'm all about sharing ignorance so god save our great game.
Ignorance.
Tried to catch the SOX score on the cable sports thing, but Chris came home from his late class. I had to click over and make like I was watching the 10 o'clock news. I don't know why but I can't let people know I love baseball. I just can't.
Hey, did Napoleon need a reason to invade Spain?
If he did, I didn't adequately cover it in my report, and if I don't understand something that important, that historic, how can I be expected to know why I must hide my love for baseball?
Too tired to go out and make trouble tonight. Bad radio and chasing non-existent zombies can take a lot out of a person. Just think how exhausted I’d be if we actually caught or re-killed one and I had to spend the rest of the evening celebrating that.
Drank a few cans of beer and then Megs called. She doesn't usually call two nights in a row. She didn't have a lot to say. A lot of ums and home shit that she knows I don't care about...so I ask her when she's coming up here to see Note. She changed the subject and hustled me off the phone.
Oh well. SOX won. They're 2-0 and definitely going to the World Series. I drank one more beer to celebrate their pending world championship in secret and went to bed.
April 09, 2012
Monday April 9, 1990 Hate Needs on Opening Day
WhiteSOX start things off with a win against the Brewers today and after the last two seasons, just the fact they started the year in Chicago is something like a victory to SOX fans. Instead of it being the last year for the team before moving to Florida, it looks like the only move the SOX will be making is across the street.
I have to remind myself there is no reason to hate the Cubs now. The team I love is not leaving, and even if they suck again this year, they will be close enough to where I can heckle them mercilessly. Besides, if the Cubs build on what they did last year, all the sweet parties near the end of the season will be Cub watching parties like last fall.
Beyond baseball, I have no reason to hate anyone or anything else. I should have enough self-loathing to cover all my hate needs.
Megs called and asked how was my sissy day watching the sissies skip around the bases? She is, and has always been a football guy. Even though I have been pretending to hate baseball for some time, Megs always knew it was a hedge against the only sports team I ever loved leaving. Yes, I love them even more than I love the Bears. I'm not afraid to admit that even though I watched the Bears since I was young, I really only loved Walter and Butkis (and Butkis really through old clips I'd see on NFL Films specials).
Why am I talking so much about stupid things I sort of love? Hate is more interesting.
Sorenson was back leading the floor class and I hated being there without Jen-O. I do appreciate this story and reading the Hiero is probably more important to me than anyone else in there. The emptiness of the dialogue's namesake is revealed in his bottomless appetites that no longer give him much pleasure. Yeah, that sounds like me, or someone I am in danger of becoming...and something I don't want to be.
That was part of Mr. Sorenson's lecture that really hooked me, right the beginning of this damned thing back in January (or whenever it started)...
It was something like...if students of political philosophy begin, like the classical philosophers, by trying to understand the purpose of things they might want to have at the ready, a sense of the purpose of their own endeavor.
That sounded unnecessarily defensive when I first heard it, but it means more now as I read it back from my notes...
"The purpose of studying the history of political philosophy elucidates the larger purpose of a man's education. At the end, you do not know the truth, you understand something about what you are. Once you understand what you are, you can then decide if that is what you want to be."
If anyone ever reads these pages carefully or otherwise I hope they think I'm reasonable enough to know that whatever I am now is certainly not what I want to be, or hope to be.
WhiteSOX start things off with a win against the Brewers today and after the last two seasons, just the fact they started the year in Chicago is something like a victory to SOX fans. Instead of it being the last year for the team before moving to Florida, it looks like the only move the SOX will be making is across the street.
I have to remind myself there is no reason to hate the Cubs now. The team I love is not leaving, and even if they suck again this year, they will be close enough to where I can heckle them mercilessly. Besides, if the Cubs build on what they did last year, all the sweet parties near the end of the season will be Cub watching parties like last fall.
Beyond baseball, I have no reason to hate anyone or anything else. I should have enough self-loathing to cover all my hate needs.
Megs called and asked how was my sissy day watching the sissies skip around the bases? She is, and has always been a football guy. Even though I have been pretending to hate baseball for some time, Megs always knew it was a hedge against the only sports team I ever loved leaving. Yes, I love them even more than I love the Bears. I'm not afraid to admit that even though I watched the Bears since I was young, I really only loved Walter and Butkis (and Butkis really through old clips I'd see on NFL Films specials).
Why am I talking so much about stupid things I sort of love? Hate is more interesting.
Sorenson was back leading the floor class and I hated being there without Jen-O. I do appreciate this story and reading the Hiero is probably more important to me than anyone else in there. The emptiness of the dialogue's namesake is revealed in his bottomless appetites that no longer give him much pleasure. Yeah, that sounds like me, or someone I am in danger of becoming...and something I don't want to be.
That was part of Mr. Sorenson's lecture that really hooked me, right the beginning of this damned thing back in January (or whenever it started)...
It was something like...if students of political philosophy begin, like the classical philosophers, by trying to understand the purpose of things they might want to have at the ready, a sense of the purpose of their own endeavor.
That sounded unnecessarily defensive when I first heard it, but it means more now as I read it back from my notes...
"The purpose of studying the history of political philosophy elucidates the larger purpose of a man's education. At the end, you do not know the truth, you understand something about what you are. Once you understand what you are, you can then decide if that is what you want to be."
If anyone ever reads these pages carefully or otherwise I hope they think I'm reasonable enough to know that whatever I am now is certainly not what I want to be, or hope to be.
April 08, 2012
Sunday April 8, 1990 A Legitimate Breakfast
It was nice waking up with you know who for the first time in god knows when. We shared the newspaper in bed. It was sort of like playing house again. It's like a lot of sweet things in life, not totally real but nice enough.
We ate breakfast at the Junction. It was safe for us to go there because it was too late for all the drinkers we know, and too early for the college kids to be there eating a legitimate breakfast. We talked about nothing and enjoyed it. She didn't even bitch when I smoked after breakfast.
Yeah, it's definitely over because I know she would not put up with that shit if she was going to try to have many more breakfasts with me. Smoking in general turned PSBFH off, and smoking at breakfast reminded her of her mother.
Returned to Douglass, I took her late morning shift at the desk so she could make phone calls from her room. She relieved me in the afternoon so I could read and get ready for Haliczer's report. I resisted the temptation to try and sleep in her bed two nights in a row, but I did try call and say good night.
She didn't answer.
It was nice waking up with you know who for the first time in god knows when. We shared the newspaper in bed. It was sort of like playing house again. It's like a lot of sweet things in life, not totally real but nice enough.
We ate breakfast at the Junction. It was safe for us to go there because it was too late for all the drinkers we know, and too early for the college kids to be there eating a legitimate breakfast. We talked about nothing and enjoyed it. She didn't even bitch when I smoked after breakfast.
Yeah, it's definitely over because I know she would not put up with that shit if she was going to try to have many more breakfasts with me. Smoking in general turned PSBFH off, and smoking at breakfast reminded her of her mother.
Returned to Douglass, I took her late morning shift at the desk so she could make phone calls from her room. She relieved me in the afternoon so I could read and get ready for Haliczer's report. I resisted the temptation to try and sleep in her bed two nights in a row, but I did try call and say good night.
She didn't answer.
April 07, 2012
Saturday April 7, 1990 King of Laundry Tokens and Stamps
Finished the stuff Shawn left behind and watched fishing programs early this morning. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but not the stupidest either. Let’s call that a win.
I worked several shifts at the front desk today. Tons of hours, and I guess I need the money. The cheap beer in this town isn't going to buy and drink itself.
I basically ran the front desk today. All hail King of Laundry Tokens and Stamps! I was surprised when PSBFH showed up around noon. I had taken these hours for her so she could go home and break up with her old man boyfriend. She told me she only had the energy to fight with Baldy and come back here, not totally break up.
She helped me work almost all the hours I took for her. That was weird but nice. This was the all day, non-physical part of us saying good bye. That's not totally true. We did some petting in the mail room when we were pretty sure the lobby was dead.
Great. Petting. Now I've made it 1922 all over again. Amazing how I did that without a time machine.
After working together all day she gave me money and told me to bring back some sort of food to her room and she'd have a picnic blanket set up for us there. It was not as lame as it sounds. We didn't want to have some kind of picnic in public because, while I think most people would understand us having all the final breakup sex, they would mock us endlessly for having picnics as part of the process.
The early evening session ended when I remembered I was supposed to see Drugstore Cowboy with Bill and Russ. I used to totally love this girl and was truly enjoying this time...but I love movies at the Egyptian so I told PSBFH if she wanted we could pick things back up around 11:30 or so, when I got back from the movie.
I think she was a little pissed but ok with that.
Gus VanZandt made a cool ass film about some real scumbags. Good for him. I wish I could glorify shit that way. It's good work if you can get it.
Came back late and helped PSBFH finish some stuff in the mail room.
Then we ended a nice day together.
Finished the stuff Shawn left behind and watched fishing programs early this morning. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but not the stupidest either. Let’s call that a win.
I worked several shifts at the front desk today. Tons of hours, and I guess I need the money. The cheap beer in this town isn't going to buy and drink itself.
I basically ran the front desk today. All hail King of Laundry Tokens and Stamps! I was surprised when PSBFH showed up around noon. I had taken these hours for her so she could go home and break up with her old man boyfriend. She told me she only had the energy to fight with Baldy and come back here, not totally break up.
She helped me work almost all the hours I took for her. That was weird but nice. This was the all day, non-physical part of us saying good bye. That's not totally true. We did some petting in the mail room when we were pretty sure the lobby was dead.
Great. Petting. Now I've made it 1922 all over again. Amazing how I did that without a time machine.
After working together all day she gave me money and told me to bring back some sort of food to her room and she'd have a picnic blanket set up for us there. It was not as lame as it sounds. We didn't want to have some kind of picnic in public because, while I think most people would understand us having all the final breakup sex, they would mock us endlessly for having picnics as part of the process.
The early evening session ended when I remembered I was supposed to see Drugstore Cowboy with Bill and Russ. I used to totally love this girl and was truly enjoying this time...but I love movies at the Egyptian so I told PSBFH if she wanted we could pick things back up around 11:30 or so, when I got back from the movie.
I think she was a little pissed but ok with that.
Gus VanZandt made a cool ass film about some real scumbags. Good for him. I wish I could glorify shit that way. It's good work if you can get it.
Came back late and helped PSBFH finish some stuff in the mail room.
Then we ended a nice day together.
April 06, 2012
Friday April 6, 1990 Except for Me
Tried to relive the magic with some of the stuff Shawn left behind but just ended up watching lots of tv. Too much damn tv. I am too young to have watched that much tv in a day. Boring, boring, boring. I won't do any of this stuff for awhile. At least booze makes me do crazy shit that is somewhat interesting to me and those who make fun of me.
In that way, booze serves the greater good.
This stuff is totally useless and it made me feel totally useless.
So I went to work. I am picking up a bunch of hours for PBSFH so she can leave town to break up with Baldy. When she initially told me her plan I said, "It's the right thing to do. Be gentle with the poor, old guy."
Then she reminded me that the only conversation Baldy and I ever had ended with me saying, “Go somewhere and polish your head before I do it for you Dr. Fuckface!"
Well, I hope she is gentler with him than she was with my dumb ass. Nobody deserves that.
Well, except for me.
Tried to relive the magic with some of the stuff Shawn left behind but just ended up watching lots of tv. Too much damn tv. I am too young to have watched that much tv in a day. Boring, boring, boring. I won't do any of this stuff for awhile. At least booze makes me do crazy shit that is somewhat interesting to me and those who make fun of me.
In that way, booze serves the greater good.
This stuff is totally useless and it made me feel totally useless.
So I went to work. I am picking up a bunch of hours for PBSFH so she can leave town to break up with Baldy. When she initially told me her plan I said, "It's the right thing to do. Be gentle with the poor, old guy."
Then she reminded me that the only conversation Baldy and I ever had ended with me saying, “Go somewhere and polish your head before I do it for you Dr. Fuckface!"
Well, I hope she is gentler with him than she was with my dumb ass. Nobody deserves that.
Well, except for me.
April 05, 2012
Thursday April 5, 1990 In Case of Superman
Shawn met the guy he was telling me about earlier in the week. Suffice it to say we were ready for Superman. If that goody two-shoes tries to fuck with us, we've got something for him. The first time's free.
Consumed some of the Superman deterrent and everything was loopy and pulsating and wonderful. Just goes to show that what kills Superman can make us stronger.
We then purchased an unnecessary amount of beer as well as an Animal's record at Appletree for FIFTY DAMNED CENTS!!!
We brought it home and found out why.
Shawn also purchased some superman deterrent for Holly L. on our floor. She definitely needs immunity from the big blue schoolboy. We invited her over and she made fun of our Animals' record.
She was right to do so.
Chris came home and helped us make the pile of beer look less unnecessary. We all went down to dinner and decided none of us were in any shape to try and make it out to Tradition.
Ran into PSBFH on the way out of the cafeteria and she asked if we would resume saying good bye tonight. I said, "Maybe later."
I was so damned proud of myself for saying that.
I hope I don't get cut off.
I am less proud having just thought that.
I called John and he agreed to let us have Tradition in my room so long as he could get too drunk to go out before he came over.
Somehow he arrived early, but man was he drunk. He was me on Valentine's Day drunk. That's impressively drunk in my book and I'm me so I ought to know.
Our dear friend John was already screaming drunk when we met him at the crash doors. He never stopped screaming the whole time he was over. He made fun of my beer, my room, and my Animals' record. He was right about the Animals' record but he sure as hell didn't have to scream so much about it.
At one point I think he called me a phony or a race traitor. I didn't fight him on that. I don't really like white people. We sort of suck. The only thing I hate more than white people?
Superman.
Shawn met the guy he was telling me about earlier in the week. Suffice it to say we were ready for Superman. If that goody two-shoes tries to fuck with us, we've got something for him. The first time's free.
Consumed some of the Superman deterrent and everything was loopy and pulsating and wonderful. Just goes to show that what kills Superman can make us stronger.
We then purchased an unnecessary amount of beer as well as an Animal's record at Appletree for FIFTY DAMNED CENTS!!!
We brought it home and found out why.
Shawn also purchased some superman deterrent for Holly L. on our floor. She definitely needs immunity from the big blue schoolboy. We invited her over and she made fun of our Animals' record.
She was right to do so.
Chris came home and helped us make the pile of beer look less unnecessary. We all went down to dinner and decided none of us were in any shape to try and make it out to Tradition.
Ran into PSBFH on the way out of the cafeteria and she asked if we would resume saying good bye tonight. I said, "Maybe later."
I was so damned proud of myself for saying that.
I hope I don't get cut off.
I am less proud having just thought that.
I called John and he agreed to let us have Tradition in my room so long as he could get too drunk to go out before he came over.
Somehow he arrived early, but man was he drunk. He was me on Valentine's Day drunk. That's impressively drunk in my book and I'm me so I ought to know.
Our dear friend John was already screaming drunk when we met him at the crash doors. He never stopped screaming the whole time he was over. He made fun of my beer, my room, and my Animals' record. He was right about the Animals' record but he sure as hell didn't have to scream so much about it.
At one point I think he called me a phony or a race traitor. I didn't fight him on that. I don't really like white people. We sort of suck. The only thing I hate more than white people?
Superman.
April 04, 2012
Wed April 4, 1990 Fuck Healthy
Healthy relationships are overrated. PSBFH and I know in our hearts and everywhere else that we are almost through with each other, and each time we get together it is a liberating experience. Sadly, this is the happiest I've been in a long time.
We had dinner and dessert in her room. Then crept out of Douglass (like the creeps we are) and walked all over this stupid campus and town. It would've been really nice if it wasn't still...here.
That's not true, and it wasn't all that nice. We argued about things and laughed after arguing. But I could tell, deep down we wanted to argue more than anything else.
On tv that's a fiery romance, but in real life it is just a pain in my ass.
The point is that for the first time ever, this girl and I were completely on the same page. We understand the rhythm of our intercourse, conversational and otherwise and realize how weary we used to make each other.
Now it's almost sweet because we are saying good bye.
Healthy relationships are overrated. PSBFH and I know in our hearts and everywhere else that we are almost through with each other, and each time we get together it is a liberating experience. Sadly, this is the happiest I've been in a long time.
We had dinner and dessert in her room. Then crept out of Douglass (like the creeps we are) and walked all over this stupid campus and town. It would've been really nice if it wasn't still...here.
That's not true, and it wasn't all that nice. We argued about things and laughed after arguing. But I could tell, deep down we wanted to argue more than anything else.
On tv that's a fiery romance, but in real life it is just a pain in my ass.
The point is that for the first time ever, this girl and I were completely on the same page. We understand the rhythm of our intercourse, conversational and otherwise and realize how weary we used to make each other.
Now it's almost sweet because we are saying good bye.
April 03, 2012
Tuesday April 3, 1990 Rhythm of the Game
The SOX open in about a week. Anything has got to be better than last year. They were so bad some fans almost wished they were shipped off to Tampa Bay.
I know I should have more important things on my mind but I don't.
Chris and I have been sort of anti-baseball, especially with the rise of the Bulls and the Cubs being the only serious contender the past five years, but my baseball vitriol is only half-hearted. I really hate it. I am excited to see if these starters for the SOX can pitch and what is going to happen if they can't. Thigpen (not jazz drummer Ed Thigpen, whose name can be repeated ad nauseum) had 30 some saves last year which is amazing, considering how few winnable games there were for the team.
But I can't even begin to think about the end of games when last year's SOX were so bad at the beginning, in the middle and sometimes at the end of games.
Like most baseball fans, I am already getting way the fuck ahead of myself.
Baseball is almost back, but I don't know if there is anything to be all that excited about other than its return. If the Cubs are good again in September in October, there will be some fun parties again, so that will be something. Some mean Cub fans will stick it to me because of the SOX suckage, but I can take that. That’s why god gave us booze and fists, right?
That’s also why god made me an idiot.
Ate a meal with Garv, Jeanz, and Jake. I saw Amy G. down there and asked her to join us. She's a FLerP girl I met at Mark's wedding. She's short but I like her.
Speaking of short, I stopped at PSBFH's room and we had a short meeting before I went to hang out with the Shawn. Yeah, real smart meeting with her. Doing that now is certainly not going to make me more fucked up.
Shawn had been telling me all day he needed to talk with me in private about something. When I found out what it was, it was cool but I can't write about it here. I think I've been pretty smart about not putting any of that shit on paper. I'm stupid but I'm not going to allow myself to be incriminated by my own poorly written diary.
Megs called and told me she lost her shirt on Duke last night. I told her she should stick to betting football, anything else she does is sickness.
Then she told me a bunch of stuff that I also am not going to write here.
The SOX open in about a week. Anything has got to be better than last year. They were so bad some fans almost wished they were shipped off to Tampa Bay.
I know I should have more important things on my mind but I don't.
Chris and I have been sort of anti-baseball, especially with the rise of the Bulls and the Cubs being the only serious contender the past five years, but my baseball vitriol is only half-hearted. I really hate it. I am excited to see if these starters for the SOX can pitch and what is going to happen if they can't. Thigpen (not jazz drummer Ed Thigpen, whose name can be repeated ad nauseum) had 30 some saves last year which is amazing, considering how few winnable games there were for the team.
But I can't even begin to think about the end of games when last year's SOX were so bad at the beginning, in the middle and sometimes at the end of games.
Like most baseball fans, I am already getting way the fuck ahead of myself.
Baseball is almost back, but I don't know if there is anything to be all that excited about other than its return. If the Cubs are good again in September in October, there will be some fun parties again, so that will be something. Some mean Cub fans will stick it to me because of the SOX suckage, but I can take that. That’s why god gave us booze and fists, right?
That’s also why god made me an idiot.
Ate a meal with Garv, Jeanz, and Jake. I saw Amy G. down there and asked her to join us. She's a FLerP girl I met at Mark's wedding. She's short but I like her.
Speaking of short, I stopped at PSBFH's room and we had a short meeting before I went to hang out with the Shawn. Yeah, real smart meeting with her. Doing that now is certainly not going to make me more fucked up.
Shawn had been telling me all day he needed to talk with me in private about something. When I found out what it was, it was cool but I can't write about it here. I think I've been pretty smart about not putting any of that shit on paper. I'm stupid but I'm not going to allow myself to be incriminated by my own poorly written diary.
Megs called and told me she lost her shirt on Duke last night. I told her she should stick to betting football, anything else she does is sickness.
Then she told me a bunch of stuff that I also am not going to write here.
April 02, 2012
Monday April 2, 1990 A Sneaky Fuck
Got up super late. Spent too much time in bed staring at the large crusts left in the pizza box on my desk. When I got out of bed I stood over the crusts and tried to remember who was eating which one. I wanted to see if I could make out a difference in the bite marks left on the two remaining crusts.
I concluded if I was ever a super detective who needed to examine food to catch the culprit, the crime would go unsolved.
Hung out in the lobby with some big, blonde guy named John before going to the Xenophon talk. He asked if I'd heard from Jen since she went home. I said no. She's got bigger things to deal with than talking to me. When this sort of thing happens, I assume there's little comfort in talking to someone like me.
I didn't tell this John that, but I know it in my heart to be true.
Mr. S. wasn't able to lead our discussion. Frisch sat in for him. I thought to myself, 'I know he and Jen were close but I hope they weren't so close that he knew she and I were pals'
I know that's a terrible thing to think, but it's probably one of the less terrible terrible things I think in an average day.
Probably too young to be a failure and feel this jaded and yet, here I am.
Frisch's presentation was great. He ran down Xenophon the whole time and came just short of describing him as Soctrates' worst student. The rest of the evening was more like an advertisement for his "Four Texts on Socrates" summer course. It's an introduction to Plato's writings through what one might describe as Socratic skepticism.
Even though I felt uncomfortable and weird during the whole evening with Jen's friends and her favorite teacher, I made a decision that Frisch's class would be this summer's installment of Escape from Joliet.
As the discussion was dying down, I snuck the fuck out of there because that's what I do, that's who I am.
A sneaky fuck
Watched UNLV kick the crap out the Blue Devils. They didn't look so smart getting dunked on all night by Tark's crew (who I'm sure were all recruited according to NCAA guidelines).
Honestly, if any of the Runnin' Rebels were recruited legally, I'd be bitterly disappointed
Got up super late. Spent too much time in bed staring at the large crusts left in the pizza box on my desk. When I got out of bed I stood over the crusts and tried to remember who was eating which one. I wanted to see if I could make out a difference in the bite marks left on the two remaining crusts.
I concluded if I was ever a super detective who needed to examine food to catch the culprit, the crime would go unsolved.
Hung out in the lobby with some big, blonde guy named John before going to the Xenophon talk. He asked if I'd heard from Jen since she went home. I said no. She's got bigger things to deal with than talking to me. When this sort of thing happens, I assume there's little comfort in talking to someone like me.
I didn't tell this John that, but I know it in my heart to be true.
Mr. S. wasn't able to lead our discussion. Frisch sat in for him. I thought to myself, 'I know he and Jen were close but I hope they weren't so close that he knew she and I were pals'
I know that's a terrible thing to think, but it's probably one of the less terrible terrible things I think in an average day.
Probably too young to be a failure and feel this jaded and yet, here I am.
Frisch's presentation was great. He ran down Xenophon the whole time and came just short of describing him as Soctrates' worst student. The rest of the evening was more like an advertisement for his "Four Texts on Socrates" summer course. It's an introduction to Plato's writings through what one might describe as Socratic skepticism.
Even though I felt uncomfortable and weird during the whole evening with Jen's friends and her favorite teacher, I made a decision that Frisch's class would be this summer's installment of Escape from Joliet.
As the discussion was dying down, I snuck the fuck out of there because that's what I do, that's who I am.
A sneaky fuck
Watched UNLV kick the crap out the Blue Devils. They didn't look so smart getting dunked on all night by Tark's crew (who I'm sure were all recruited according to NCAA guidelines).
Honestly, if any of the Runnin' Rebels were recruited legally, I'd be bitterly disappointed
April 01, 2012
Sunday April 1, 1990 War Weary
Thank God for spring ahead day. We did not need one more hour of booze last night. Went to Rick's with Bill and ran into Pretentious Matt. He went on about war and death. Bill and I provided him with intermittent uh huhs. I think that's all he wanted and we were too weary to not oblige him.
Returned to the room and Chris was there. He had fun at home. I'm glad someone can have fun on the south side these days. We drank beer and watched the Lakers. Stupid, fat Magic.
Worked off the beer by playing hoops at the Rec. Chris and I shot it pretty well. Everything was going in, wish I could've said the same for bowling that night. I sucked. I was the weak link and even my rotten handicap didn't help.
I blame the spring ahead day. If I had one more hour of sleep I would've bowled better. Yeah.
Ate late night pizza with my neighbor Holly L. She looked sad. She wasn't wearing make up and looked like she had been crying. I think her boy dumped her. I wanted to say, "At least your ovaries are ok" but what good would that have done for anyone?
Thank God for spring ahead day. We did not need one more hour of booze last night. Went to Rick's with Bill and ran into Pretentious Matt. He went on about war and death. Bill and I provided him with intermittent uh huhs. I think that's all he wanted and we were too weary to not oblige him.
Returned to the room and Chris was there. He had fun at home. I'm glad someone can have fun on the south side these days. We drank beer and watched the Lakers. Stupid, fat Magic.
Worked off the beer by playing hoops at the Rec. Chris and I shot it pretty well. Everything was going in, wish I could've said the same for bowling that night. I sucked. I was the weak link and even my rotten handicap didn't help.
I blame the spring ahead day. If I had one more hour of sleep I would've bowled better. Yeah.
Ate late night pizza with my neighbor Holly L. She looked sad. She wasn't wearing make up and looked like she had been crying. I think her boy dumped her. I wanted to say, "At least your ovaries are ok" but what good would that have done for anyone?
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