friday january 18 2002 | 6:12 p.m.
holy rockband!
am i dreaming?
a post-early-90s supergroup has formed. i'm sitting here trying my best to remain calm and collected, but damnit, three of my favorite bands are combining into one.
a complex sum:
bud gaugh of sublime
+
krist novoselic of nirvana
+
curt kirkwood of the meat puppets
-----------------------------------------
eyes adrift
i think you might be as excited as i am about this. i can't even imagine.
in other news, atom is tonight and i have no idea what i'm going to wear. tsk tsk. also i casually mentioned the show to chicagoboy on tuesday, in relation to his paintings ( it's a long story, kind of ), but of course i told him the wrong club and only realized it much later, well after work. so i had the should-i-get-in-touch dilemma for a few days, and finally tonight decided to e-mail him, what the hell. it would be worse if he showed up at life tonight only to find the doors closed or the club in full-swing salsa night or something. we'll see.
it's strange to have so many days off work suddenly. i'll wake up with a start in the morning thinking i've overslept, only to realize i'm on an extended vacation of sorts. until monday.
i've started idly looking for other jobs, but going through the classifieds is cringe-fest-inducing, and only the u.s. navy seems to be recruiting online ( blech ). so, for the moment, retail it is. although i'm having dreams of typewriters. seriously. that's gotta mean something.
i finished kitchen confidential and am a little damp-eyed for it: like i've been hanging out in tony's kitchen ( see? we're even on a first-name basis now ) talking smack for days. but i've started poring through dave eggers' acknowledgements, and he's winning me over and away from the fumes of the brasserie. so that's good.
i really didn't have that much to say. just trying to get reacquainted with the diaryland, which is drifting away from me lately. and we can't have that, can we.
a year and a handful of days ago, i was in new york city.
