Austin's Lesbo BBQ

Well. I feel spiffy...I just registered for another section of continuing ed up at the community college.

Just remember: When in doubt about your usefulness on this planet, there's always school to delay that thought for just a little bit longer!

Soon, I'll be learning Flash animation...I'll join the other 2.5 billion people in the world that also have this knowledge. I can't wait to put up on the interweb my original ideas of Viking kittens playing rock music and frogs being obliterated in blenders...that'll show em.

I'm hoping this will also motivate me to work on other projects...besides blogs, mixed cds and perfecting my Magic the Gathering annihilation deck. Ok. The last part was, yet again, a lie. I was never able to find anyone besides the 14 year old boys at the comic book store to play Magic with me. Sigh. I believe it was probably for the best.

Until then, I will continue to work...sometimes...and figure out how I'm going to get to ACL fest without being evicted, hunted down by creditors and forced to nourish myself with the pecans that fall from the trees in my backyard. I'll get back to you on how that turns out.

I just realized what was missing in my life. Or, one of the many things...I have nobody in town to enthusiastically (the true élan is a must) join me in dancing the pain away on Sunday nights to all the best 80's tunes....well...as good as they're gonna get until I start my spinning career.

Sure. There's a few people that will humor me...sometimes I can coerce them into coming out on a work/school night...and they usual end up having fun despite the obvious pain brought on by a club that doesn't actually kick you out until 4 a.m. Isn't ralphing in the office's unisex toilet always the best way to start a work week?

Honestly, I could go the rest of my life without hearing "Oh Mickey your so fine" again and be quite happy...but in between the Mickeys, I get to hear stuff that I frequently dance to when I'm by myself.

My favorite part about the Sunday night 80's dance venue are the true hardcores...last time I was there, the dance floor cleared when Erasure's "Always" started playing...I mean, come on Mr. Ultra-Fab DJ! That's sooooo 1994!

Oh. By the way...I'm a shitty dancer...I only get out there with about 4 doses of liquid courage. Which, believe me, doesn't improve my skills...but really...who the fuck cares?

Ok ok...I promise the obsessive 80's music themed posts will stop for a little while. I just had to express my recent deep epiphany.

Just think about this for a minute:

The USA alone among the industrialized countries does not provide taxpayer-supported universal health coverage, instead relying on a mix of employer coverage, individual purchases and government programs.

http://www.usatoday.com/money/industries/health/2004-08-26-uninsure_x.htm

We also highest prison population in the world!

USA! USA! USA!

I haven't decided which is a more painful way to spend a Sunday morning: 1. in a church filled with song and love OR 2. nursing a wicked hangover....actually, I'm being dramatic...it's not that wicked.

I did manage to get out and rent a movie...and I think that's as far as I'm making it today. When I returned from the store, I found my roommate gathering up all her belongings into trash bags while "Leaving on a Jet Plane" played from her computer.

I can't make this shit up people.

I thought it would be appropriate for me to compete with "I Wanna Sex You Up"...It's about time she found out my true feelings for her. Ok. That's just a down right lie. I have no "special" feelings for my roommate. That would just be weird...she's my ex-girlfriend's little sister that happens to be marrying my ex-boyfriend...way too weird. Her finally leaving is another gentle reminder that I need to get used to being alone. I suck at it. I've been trying for months and I still don't like living by myself. Must find roommate.

I've been having this thought lately (probably a product of spending too much time alone) of taking candid pictures of people waiting at bus stops. People just have a certain look to them when they're waiting for the bus. You'd think that it would just be an impatient antsy look, but I've found that it's much more. It would also be a bit of a rush to try to snap a picture and drive off without anyone noticing...but then I started pondering the repercussions of taking pictures of strangers without asking them first. It would probably weird out most normal people...and I'd be easily identified by my truck...is my fascination worth being acted upon at the risk of being labeled a sketchy weirdo? It may be too late for that...I think I'm probably already a sketchy weirdo to some people. If I did it enough, I'm sure the law would be after me.

It's a fun idea though...hmmmm.

God. I need to start dating or something.

I got to play grease monkey again today. Oh so fun. It has been made obvious to me over and over again that whenever I have an automobile issue, it's never solved by the simplest solution.

First off, I'd like to point out that our loving Austin community is always on the lookout for their fellow neighbors. Specifically, I'd like to thank the gentleman who offered his service at 7:30 this morning of laying on his horn and displaying his middle finger when I slowed down to turn into my driveway. I guess my gradual deceleration and hand signal didn't do it for him. Without his courtesy, I may have been in the dark for ages about my trucks turn signal problem!

SO anyway...I noticed around midnight last night that my left turn signal was doing some spastic blinking action telling me that one of my signal bulbs is out. Simple enough. I went to get another bulb this afternoon...that didn't fix it. Still, no signal. I went to a different auto parts store (where I've found in the past the associates are more competent) with my issue. The guy told me it was a circuit board problem and it's a $30 part. Fuck! Why when I think I'm going to spend $5 do I end up spending $40?! Whatever. So I bought it and I decided to just fix it in the parking lot just in case it wasn't the right part.

Here's the part that repeatedly gets to me: I can't seem to go about my own business of fixing my truck without drawing some sort of attention. And I don't mean that nice people are offering to help me and I'm taking it the wrong way. I'm talking about straight up harassment. Like "That's it baby! Just hit it a little bit harder! That'll do the trick!"...I kinda knew this would happen if I did the repair in the parking lot, I just couldn't justify driving all the way back to my house to put in the part and then finding out it was the wrong part just to drive right back to the store. And by the way, people do this all the time...fix their cars in the auto parts store's parking lots...in fact, the guy parked next to me was doing something to his car as well. So, in theory, I shouldn't be drawing any particular attention.

I had a similar, yet more assaulting, situation happen to me a couple of weeks ago when I was working on my truck in my driveway...and also several times in the past.

Sorry. I just had to vent about the shit in the world that, apparently, will never change.

Next time I do a repair, I'm just going to go all out and do it dressed to the nines in heels and my prom dress.

I believe that I have finally hit the pinnacle of my listlessness. This whole "not working until Thursday-Sunday" bullshit must come to and end. I'm way too prone to overanalyzing myself and my cats are sick of watching me sock-slide around my living room while jammin' out to Anything Box's "Living in Oblivion"...

I've considered pursuing a narcotics habit in order to pass the time. Although smack seems to be the most popular choice, I personally think meth would be more fitting to my personality. I do enjoy starting projects (and not finishing them or finishing them half-assed) and I think 48 hour sleepless binges would really kick my mind into high gear!

Earlier, I had the tough decision of whether or not to go to the coffee shop. Then I realized that I don't drink coffee. It makes me twitch. Plus, why go out when I have such a great selection of exotic teas right here? So I heated up a cup of Passion...a tantalizing deep red tea made from tropical flowers, exotic herbs and natural flavors. The end of this story is that I should've gotten over my agoraphobia and walked to the damn coffee shop...Passion tasted craptacular. I guess I still could go...

And although I've been feeling like a flat tire, it has allowed me the opportunity to practice incorporating jazz age slang into my vocabulary. I encourage you all to read up...we could have whole conversations that only octogenarians could understand...huzzah! So much to learn before I start raking in the heavy sugar!

Things will pick up soon. They always do. I'll be feeling like the gnat's whistle again in no time!

If time permitted, I would be asking my European friend, who is on her way back to Luxembourg, how to overcome shyness. But, unfortunately, I'll have to spend my warm summer days indoors writing my frightening verses to her. Even if her dental work wasn't superb...I'd still be asking: if it wasn't love, then was it the bond that brought us together?

That made no sense to anyone...besides, maybe, the Luxembourger (you'll be missed greatly...) Damn. More friends leaving...

No real thoughts for today. There's only one that's been lingering in my mind since earlier tonight:

I murdered a squirrel.

I know...maybe it's no big deal....to you. But, I just can't get the guilt out of me. I did my best in avoiding it as it kamakazied itself into the rush-hour traffic of North Lamar...I swerved and braked as much as possible without causing an accident...I swear!

But, alas, the poor guy still met his demise underneath the front right tire of my truck. The guilt ran through me immediately..."Who the fuck do you think you are driving this behemoth killing machine? Is your life really so much more significant that its convenience overpowers the right to life of another living being?"...I simutaneosly felt the judgmental eyes of the cars that were behind me and to the side of me. I know they saw it. They witnessed the unnecessary carnage that occurred. They glared at me...I experienced their disgust.

I know I'll have to live with what I've done for the rest of my life....If I am able to provide a token of my respect to the memory of the small semi-lovable rodent, I would certainly be willing to perform my rendition of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" at his service...

Hi. I'm back again. Back to the traffic, my house's funky smell and the insane amount of people between the ages of 18-24 that have seemingly been imported to Austin over the weekend.

It's school time again. No more comfortable nights at the bars and painless shopping at H.E.B... I like to pretend that I was never a part of that demographic. But, who am I kidding?

Anyway...East Texas was a blast. I did lots and lots of fishing on a beautiful lake. I spent some quality time with my friend and her well-adjusted family. It was so refreshing. The five hour road trip included globe-trotting destination such as Athens, Tripoli and Pittsburgh...Texas. We didn't quite make it to Paris on this journey. I also had the pleasure of visiting Quitman, Texas which is apparently the hometown of the Oscar-winning actress Sissy Spacek....I was curious as to why there was a street named Sissy Spacek in Quitman which prompted me to look it up. My friend and I had other theories as to why a town with a population of 1,000 people would feel so inclined to name a street after this actress. My theory was that she happened to drive through the town once and somebody saw her. Or possibly that Quitman's main industry is the production and distribution of pig's blood. But then I found out they had a real reason...damn.

I should really be asleep now. But, here I am...not sleeping...staying up....I'm not doing the driving tomorrow, and I don't think my friend will mind my non-company.

I have a small thought this evening. I admit that I am an online post troller...whether it be personal ads or just the usual rants. I've noticed a recurring personal ad description that I'm confused about. People are constantly referring to themselves and/or seeking people who are "well-adjusted"...I'm having a hard time grasping what "well-adjusted" means exactly.

I have a couple general ideas: First, I'm assuming that to be well-adjusted means you're probably toilet trained and that you don't ponder the question "Is plastic o.k.?" for more than 5 minutes. Second, I should feel reasonably comfortable around you when there happens to be knives in the room.

Other than that, I would think that the term "well-adjusted" is misleading. Is anyone really well-adjusted in their own eyes that would be grasped in someone elses' eyes? I'd certainly be hesitant in raising my hand to join that group.

And, does it count if you're well-adjusted with the aid of pills and the daily affirmations provided to you by Cosmo?

I know, I know...the term is used innocently. Like I said, it's just a small thought.

Well, that's it...take care for the next few days. I'll be back soon enough with more stories.

Oh. I forgot to tell you. I'm leaving again....I'll be back on Tuesday or maybe Monday....I haven't decided yet.

Oh yeah, could you take care of my mighty cat army again? I swear, this will be the last time I ask you for this favor. Thanks. There's some yummy yummy treats on top of the fridge. I also baked some cookies yesterday...feel free to enjoy.

But if you let that damn yeti in again, we're over. And don't touch my Tom Tom Club album...I see you eyeing it...

I love you! No, not you...YOU.

Yes. It's true. I'm taking off again. My life in Austin is just so damn challenging and laborious that it requires a vacation every two weeks. This time I'm joining my friend on a trip to her parent's lake house a couple hours east of Dallas.

Fishing and beer. Sweet. Sure, I may not be able to pay my bills, but who could pass up this opportunity? Maybe I'll really produce some pictures this time...

Ummm....you can ignore that previous post. Twas' the product of the evil fire water.

If the Thompson Twins where here, would they believe? Probably not.

I have a strange obsession with eighties music. I felt proud in settling an eighties music argument at the bar tonight. Small details are key. The bartender I'm stalking now thinks I'm ultimately weird...I may be at least five years younger than her, but I actually know the dates that the first Thompson Twins' album was released, and for the love of God!...it wasn't Tears for Fears!! I have the vinyl, damnit. Maybe...perhaps...yes.

It doesn't matter so much. What matters more...to me anyway...is how out of place I feel. The girls that are my age seem to scoff at my admiration of the past...while the girls that are older than me seem to be confused at my involvement with the present (it's too immature and juvenile..Gah. Is there a happy medium?

I think there is. I recall a time in my life when a certain girl my age connected with me over the Cure and the Bolshoi...And I think we into the current happenings at the same time...Am I right?

It was really happening.

I've been so very domestic lately...you all would be so proud. I even found myself watching and enjoying "The View" this morning. Of course, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy "The View" ever time I watch it...but, let's just keep that between you and me.

I did noticed one very peculiar thing while watching mom tv today. Cleaning supplies never cease to be improved upon. While last year, nothing could be better than the power of orange. This year, it seems that we are back to the dirt avenging dual-action cleaners...you know, the ones that put two different colored liquids side-by-side in order to demonstrate their superior filth busting skills?

I also have the daily privilege of catching glimpses of the insides of Americans' homes. Strangely enough, I just don't feel that these houses are getting any cleaner! I mean, come on folks. With all this awesome cleaning power at your finger tips, one would think that the average American's house would be blindingly shiny and completely void of bacteria. Maybe these people don't watch enough TV and just aren't aware of the improved tools available to them in 2004 that were sub-par in 2003. Maybe a door to door advertising strategy would be more effective.

Well. I can see there is still room for improvement.

As for me, I'm gonna stick to following the scientific breakthroughs of the personal care market. While I'll continue to try the improved wetness-fighting deodorants and gum-preserving toothbrushes, I've decided to hold out on buying a new razor until the 7 blade model debuts in 2007.

Ok....so I made it through the weekend without having to resort to anti-depressants (unless you count beer) and now it's time to catch up on some much needed rest.

My brain is on minimal function mode...but, I will leave you with this optimistic thought: Dippin Dots. You know, the ice cream of the future? I think it may actually be the future now. While in Destin, I saw a Dippin Dots vending machine. Yes! That's right! Soon we won't have to wait to go to the mall or the water park to enjoy these novel little balls of goodness! There is hope after all.

Goodnight.

Gah. I wish I had something positive to comment about. But, alas, the past two days have been pissing me off.

I'll keep my negativity short and sweet: 1. my truck broke down 2. the dog I'm dog-sitting at my house has been terrorizing me and my cats 3. I'm having a hard time working to make the money to fix my truck and support myself without a truck...the paradox of delivering pizzas for money. Thank god I decided to do some cash-earning laboring on Friday. I may be covered in paint, but by god, I made some progress.

Other than that, I'd like to say it's been a typical weekend...whatever that means. The only positive thing I can muster up in my mind is that I posses the know-how to fix my own car...nothing pisses me off more than paying some jack-ass $400 to replace a $50 part. Yeah.

On the plus side, I'd like to give props to my all of my great friends...although my problems are so very minimal, the aid that has been offered to me has been outstanding. I love all you guys!

But, despite my bullshit...the August weather in central Texas has been awe-inspiring. If I didn't have to deal with the bullshit tomorrow, I'd be swimming it up in the nearest creek...or checking out the Olympics at my local pub....or sleeping indefinitely.

So it goes...stupid reality has, once again, interfered with my ability to think above it. These problems are simple and and will soon be overlooked. Until then...

I've finally solidified where I'm going when I leave Austin...

http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/ssistory.mpl/nation/2733758

I mean, by the time Charley passes by, there should be plenty of affordable housing available for the next wave of grizzled ex-frat boys...and the like.

So, I lied about my inability to go to the bar for the 4th night in a row. This time, I was able to justify bar-ing-it-up with an extended night at work. I was scheduled for three hours and ended up doing five...yeah, my life's hard...I'm going to the bar.

Justifiable or not, my stalking target was not there tonight. I did, however, receive some scheduling info that will allow me to work my bar visits around when my intended target will be there...so very sneaky...so very sneaky.

Meanwhile, this info allows me to, once again, freely roam the Austin area in search of discount beer nights. Also, the time I spent tonight...alone at the bar...made me realize that I'm so damn comfortable in this here town that I no longer have any problems with doing anything by myself. I'm now only a few steps behind that guy that rocks out all by himself on the dance floor at Elysium on Sunday nights. More power to you sir...the spirit of Falco will never die due to your support!

Speaking of which, I think I've found out the mystery of what happened to the one-hit wonder artist Taco (most noted for his rendition of "Puttin' on the Ritz"). I believe that he has resurfaced in the indie-wave band Franz Ferdinand. It's true, I tell you. Just listen to both of them...the similarities in their voices are eerie...especially on Franz's track "Take Me Out". It may just be their equally blatant accents...or me and my mind conspiring again...I don't know. Sweet. I can't wait till ACL festival...then I'll really get to decide for myself.

I also think Missy Elliot sampled Blondies "Heart of Glass" in her song "Work It"...it wasn't mentioned in her credits...but...I'm on to you rock stars. Watch out.

It's so nice to see that my blog entries can go from hurricanes to rock stars without skipping a beat..

This is so rad. Now I can really use my skills and it's all been right down the street from me all along! I'm also very curious on what's so secret about his "martial art" that the rest of them haven't figured out in the past 5,000 years.

http://austin.craigslist.org/stp/39087162.html

What the fuck am I doing inside today? It's like, 85 degrees outside and sunny...I'll see you fools later.

So, I was all ready to post an entry last night after I returned from my regular bar jaunt...but then I woke up at 6:30 in the morning with a cat on top of me, my hair plastered to my face and my contacts still in my eyes...oh, and The Who was blaring from my computer speakers. I have no clue how I managed to sleep this way for 4 hours...in fact, I don't even recall lying down.

Now, before you go and get all judgmental on my ass...or most of you are probably already familiar with my beer drinking skills (next to my bow-staff skills and computer hacking skills)...but, I have a pseudo justifiable reason for my excessive alcohol consumption last night.

I believe that I have developed a mini-crush a certain bartender. It's all neat and fun, but I've found that it's also expensive and detrimental to my attempts to rise above slacker-dom. I need to come up with a better way to talk to her without drinking six beers while at the same time not giving my stalking away...hmmmmmm. I don't think I can do the bar for the 4th day in a row. I'm open to suggestions from those who are smoother than I (I know, I know...you're all probably saying "But, you already be the smoothest!"...but let's just look past that for a moment.)

Or maybe I'll just ask Morrissey.

Oh....I also woke up this morning to a mushroom patch under my toilet. I have a hankering suspicion that the yeti spread some spores when he used my bathroom last week. Or, more likely, this is what happens when you live in a house that's 60 years old and slightly neglected. By the way, I'm looking for a roommate. Know anybody who doesn't mind sharing a bathroom with a fungi? Huh huh.

I'm sitting here typing on my computer machine feelin' just like the bee's knees and the cat's pajamas, I tell you. Why? Well, because I got a new fancy desk chair, silly. I haven't felt this important since I was called upon to fix that leak in the unisex toilet.

My friend's very kind brother gave me a soft and comfy desk chair...it's like no other. I am now able to sit in front of my computer and stroke my sinister cat while contemplating the fortune I received from the exclusive Imperial Gardens Asian restaurant located in Destin, Florida:


Cut this out and keep it with you at all times

So, I didn't really go to bed immediately...because my random music selection reminded me of one of my many guilty pleasures.

Sophie B. Hawkins' "Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover"...not only is this one of the best song titles ever made, but the she also manages incorporate the words "shucks" and "monkey" into the same song lyrics! They're quite moving.

At one point in time, I also thought that one of the lines she was singing was "tonight I'll be your Marlboro Red"...I don't know what that could mean, but my mind fills in the blanks.

Damn, Sophie...let me in.

I have a fun compilation, in the making, that includes this song...you know what to do if you want a copy.

I've officially been back in Austin for just over four hours. It feels weird. I just saw Napoleon Dynamite as well. Quite possibly the best movie ever.

I've also noticed that my roommate has taken the Al-Anon "One Day at a Time" approach to moving out of the house... this is just confusing me. I come home and I think I've been burglarized because my end table is missing...and so is the bamboo plant. But why would they leave the DVDs and stereo stuff? I don't know...I've had stranger shit happen to me. It took a couple of minutes to adjust and to realize what was going on...'twas a bizarre re-introduction to my home. It also looks like a yeti took a shower in my bathroom...I have absolutely no explanation for this...I cleaned it before I left...hmmmmm.

Ok. I'm going to try get out some details a little at a time. It would be an unruly post if I did it all at once...so one day at a time, my friends.
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Saturday: I'll skip the intro road trip. Due to my beer drinking and staying up til 4 a.m., I was fortunately able to sleep through most of this drive. I woke up at the Cracker Barrel in Baton Rouge. Hey kids! Don't forget to stop here on your next drive through the ass-crack of America! Hmmm....will I gouge myself on biscuits and gravy or sausage and a stick of butter? They actually have a low-carb section on their menu...kill me now.

We arrived around 5 p.m. with just enough time for everybody (with the exception of myself...being led by the grace of god) to get a pre-dusk dip in the crystal blue jellyfish infested water. Minutes later, there was enough screaming and crying to start any family vacation.

Sunday: So...I lived in a dorm for two years. It was refreshing to re-live these years while sharing a bedroom with my little brother. Granted, my little brother is 22, so it's not that bad. Just don't touch my stuff, o.k.?

I also went to the beach...I imagined that I saw Gidget, Annette and Frankie waving to me as I boogie boarded into the surf.

Monday: more beachin'...I think I'll stop saying that after this day...just assume it happened everyday unless I say otherwise.

This is also where the real hell began. I was roped into going to check out the wave runner and deep-sea fishing options. I should have known better. Everywhere we went outside of the condo facilities involved moving 11 people at the same time....11 fucking people...3 under the age of 11...so here we all go.

I was already feeling a bit antsy from my lack of cigarettes and personal space. I thought this was just going to be a small jaunt lasting no more than an hour. Boy, was I wrong. It turns out my crazy stepmother had plans to rope everyone into eating dinner at the Beached Whale or something like that. Did I mention that this restaurant offers a pre-dinner show of fish cleaning? Apparently if you take one of their deep-sea fishing trips, they cordially clean and prepare the fish that you catch...right before your eyes!

By this time, the fish show and 11 person bumble fuck had turned my stomach into knots...or maybe it was the Cracker Barrel finally catching up to me. Either way, I had to beg my dad to drive me back to the condo before everyone sat down for dinner...and before I went mental on their asses...

There's more to this story, but I must sleep now. I'll try to recount more fun in the upcoming days...when it's still fresh on my mind. And maybe pictures? Unfortunately, I'm not much of a photographer...but, I may post what I do have.

Mutha fuckas....I've had to watch my language for too long now. Ahhhhh...back in the great state of Texas. It always feels good. Details to follow.