wednesday april 3 2002 | 6:05 p.m.
hello diaryland. it's been a while.
i'm exhausted and frustrated because i've just spent two hours trying to put together a set of fine kmart bookshelves, and the job just wasn't meant for one person to undertake alone. so i have the skeleton of the thing lying forlornly on my rug, and the backing, which has the consistency of second-rate balsa wood, is folded up and waiting to be nailed into place. it'll have to wait until a better time, when i'm less predisposed to smash it into tiny splinters.
my parents and i are looking at cheapo computer offers, because this one is obviously and inelegantly bleeping its final blips. sometime in the next two weeks i should be able to stop typing up e-mails in wordpad, then hauling ass to cut and paste in the diaryland shell before getting disconnected. i've tried everything, and at&t customer service is $17 a phone call -- no comment. it's home improvement month around here. everybody's doing it. i've even mailed out a subscription card for house and garden, no shit.
so i'm still at the same place of work, in the same situation, my patience and basic human dignity challenged further and further every day. so i'm looking at getting the hell out of there. there is, of course, a silver lining, otherwise it wouldn't make much of a story. and that's the friends i've made. but yeah, it's coming time to move on.
a good chunk of this m.i.a. time has been spent at work, looking forward to spending breaks drinking ozzy's masterpiece espresso machiattos, bitching and talking shit with whoever else is off, stealing away from the register or the floor to chainsmoke for ten minutes with marck or joe or letty or kimmy. the rest of the time is mainly spent sleeping or with scott, in person or on the phone, since we don't have a lot of free time. we'll usually go over to ozzy and beth's, where the band will practice for a couple of hours in the spare room/studio rigged by josé, while beth and i and eric's girlfriend amy and jeff and whoever else shows up drink up and smoke out and talk, and beth and i will usually continue planning a decadent cocktail party in the backyard and deconstructing the barnes & noble experience. something like that.
life is pretty good. i'm happy -- imagine that. scott has a lot to do with that, but it's mostly just feeling good in my own skin. like i'm finally growing into it. i'm writing, albeit shyly. i like working (even at that hellhole) and being busy and then relaxing and forgetting about it on my days off, and having money to buy a nice bottle of wine, and records, and bookcases, and books, and dinners out. i'm not complacent by any means -- miami is a bad fit, and i hate retail, and there are always unresolved issues with people and things going on, sure. but considering everything, i really am surprisingly happy.
music lets me down. i'm going through -- music is going through? -- one of those periods where i'm underwhelmed. there's nothing really new or bold or fuck-you or even remotely interesting going on, nothing that i know of. standard fare, even from fugazi, who have never until now disappointed me. nothing new. so i'm listening to a lot of old records, but not really recreationally, although there's always that; i'm listening for what made them GREAT. led zeppelin, jeff buckley, jimi hendrix, siamese dream, hysteria (shut up and deal, it's a fucking brilliant album), david bowie, the stones, moby grape, patti smith, triumph by the jacksons and off the wall by michael himself, older marvin gaye, neil young. and i can't resist the white stripes because they just swept me off my feet, but in a comfortable, déjà vu kind of way, like in my past life in a parellel universe i owned that record 30 years ago. kindergarten drumming and all. crazy charm.
almost one year since kenyon. i feel terribly removed and then not very much at all. i have very little idea of what's going on with everyone, with the exceptions of julie and daniel and becky -- even fritz, i can't remember the last time i talked to her, but it's been at least two months. i miss my friends, who i've discovered through time and distance are not my friends at all -- they're my family. so i guess it's ok that i haven't talked to roddy since graduation, because i feel like i just saw him yesterday.
anyway. just felt like a mini update, which has become not-so-mini. i think i'm going to go watch spinal tap, on loan from scott (along with clerks and sunny day real estate -- we're trying to catch each other up on what we've missed). and yeah, for any friends who might be reading by chance and suddenly feel alluded to: i love you.
