Tired today. I blame it on Solstice. It is the shortest day of the year.
Flash back to: when the pope decided to change Jesus Christ's birth-month from May to Dec.
"Gee, I dunno Pope -- changing our saviour's birthday seems kinda sinful, but I guess Christ can take one more for the team."
And so it was done.
Writing thing tonight. Much progress on the new song. I'm game for being hokey-bokey bullshit! FINE WITH IT! I got a structure for the song, and also I got some lyrics. . . I'm loosely basing the structure on Johnny Cash's cover of Beck's "Row Boat," however it sounds nothing the same. That's the great part about structure folks -- you can paint on the side of a cow and cash it at the bank.
This year I'm buying everybody either a book or a CD, very well-chosen ones from independant stores. I'm probably spending 150 bucks total on shopping presents for peeps who are close to me. I go for something that's not very expensive but will also mean something (because I am poor. If I were rich I would probably buy lavish useless stuff on ebay).
The Consumerism of Christmas bothers most everybody, yet everyone partakes in its Devo-esque stimulation, even if for a moment -- like a vegetarian eating a very renowned meat sandwich. To boot, most people love shopping, it's a past-time.
1. So why wouldn't it be appropriate to shop at Christmas?
2. How does the Consumerism of Christmas affect you?
3. Do you do it up with Western Style Lavishness?
4. Do you keep it quiet and with the family?
5. Is it a general piss-up celebration?
6. Keep it traditional?
7. Have you ever given thought to your attitudes and your actions during the Christmas Season and how they might contradict each other?
"Every hear of punk rock? Fuck I hate this. Fuck you couple in the subaru. Fuck you truck man."
Those were my very serious thoughts as I walked through the London Drugs entrance. I bought some CD-Rs for people that didn't mean much to me. I walked around a little bit and picked up a Spider-Man Karate chop figurine, and next to it lay a package containing little dolls with exchangable heads (?) for my niece, who, as far as I know, is anywhere between seven and twelve years old. So I picked that up as well. I also purchased an unbelievably large chocolate bar for my mother which I ended up eating myself.
Shopping proved to be most easy and rewarding. I found delirious gifts for the following:
Lover (part of gift)
Mother
Father
Brother
Brother (one gift is being exchanged, but I know what it is)
So all that leaves is my sister, sister-in-law, brother-in-law, niece and nephew. I'm not sure if I'll have time to shop for them, so they may get nothing. Hopefully I will find the time. Shops are open late this time of year, so that will probably prove worthwhile. I want to find a book with lots of interesting pictures for my niece and nephew. Something beery for my brother-in-law, something silly for my sister-in-law (she's Japanese), but I have no idea what to buy my sister. I don't know any of her interests.
Took an incredible amount of self to get out of bed this morning. It's Christmas season, and I need to shop for:
Lover
Mother
Father
Brother
Brother
Sister
Niece
Nephew
I got a big bag of Japanese Fun from Japan!
Two little glass cups
Some pastries
A sugary loaf
cheese cake fingers (very yummy)
A 2l can of beer
other odds and ends
the two litre can of beer came in handy at the kegger I attended at M.'s house this weekend. Total debauchery. Also saw J. Dunphy as well as K.C. at the Spiral Café. Good show lads!
I'm looking forward to the new year, and also, to boot, I love this season, this time of year. Ignore the ignoble shopping and consumerism and it is indeed a beautiful time on the island. It's about people.
In this new year, many changes will happen. A move to Japan. Many shows and possibly a small tour of Vancouver Island (which would be SO COOL!). Most peeps leave the island, but an actual seven day tour on the rock could prove worthwhile. Now I just need to find the peeps and the time-window.
If you found a vortex, would you jump through, or just walk on by?
Why can't everybody be like DJ Shadow's music? What a genius, a wonderful, beautiful genius. By the time I die, I want to release a rock n' roll album and a hip-hop instrumental album. Very difficult if you want to do it well.
Work is easing its way into work. The great thing about work is that I get to eat deilicious food for free, as well as drink delicious coffee for free. I learned how to do the cappucino making, and the americano making. I imagine piloting a spacecraft is similar in nature but not in size. The boss, a very delightful guy, asked me to write some ad-copy for the radio station. This is what I handed him.
There's a new deli in town, and it’s kicking ass and taking names. The staff are bruttish and terse, friendly only once you hand over some of your hard-earned dollars. You're the type who listens to bad radio all day every day, who wonders if you should try your luck at one of their corporate give-aways. Never mind that claptrap. Poney up to our Deli for a sandwich, ask for it grilled, and fill your stomach with something big and good for $3.75. That's right, a gourmet kick in the junk for only $3.75. If you smile at us, you get sent to the back of the line. Come in, spend your money on cheese, shut up, and leave. We don't need you, we don't want you.
Got paid in cheese today. The usual: brie, gorgonzola, havarti, provoloné. Got some bread, a giant pickle, other goodies. Baked sandwiches. A bottle of Grolsch. I'm going to pick up a few of those tomorrow, pay-day. Victory, is mine.
The payment of cheese was in exchange for some adcopy J. and I whipped up last night. I'll get to hear it on the radio. People I knew came into work today! Awesome!
Currently reading the Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, age 13 3/4. Hillarious read. Brilliant to boot. This book is dead good.
What if we all slithered instead of walked? Offices would be so much different.
The whole house is filthy. Cat vomit everywhere, a Monday standard, it seems, messy litterbox, bags everywhere, if only I had a bag hutch, rotten fruit, a moldy pockmark from where the fly burst out, dirt on the floor, laundry everywhere.
On the plus side, it's Christmas season and I'm going out to a buffet tonight. Oh how I love the buffet. I wish I had a taste for fine foods, slow-paced dining by candle light, but really I'm more of a trough man. I believe everybody is.
I will clean, however boring it sounds. A) It'll warm up the house, B) I'll do something useful (for once) and C) Shut your face!
I watched three movies. A)The Good Girl with Jennifer Aniston and Jake Gyllenmenthol. Set in a department store, everybody needs to find love. Luckily for two quirky and under-motivated clerks, they find each other, only they're weird so it's dramatic. Could've been better. Somewhat uneventful. Good independent production, in the way that it was shot, indy-style, and Gyllenmenthol and Aniston acted great, but I didn't see the chemistry between the two characters, a flaw of the script, I suppose.
"Poltergeist" was okay. Somewhat lame, and very Freudian. "Spider" was good. Very eerie. Ralph Fiennes stars as a crazy man out of the loop fallen down behind everything else living with constructions to ease the pain. He goes to a half-way flop-house operated by one of his constructions. As a boy, he experienced severe family trauma and since hasn't been able to distinguish reality from moving on, and the past creeps up into his present day. Very alone movie, slow shots.
Last night, I got drunk for FREE. And this morning, I went out for BRUNCH. Then I went to the BEACH with my LOVER where I carved a PIPE out of driftwood with a PEN and a KEY. We collected STONES and made CANDLE PLATTERS after drinking loads of COFFEE, and then I spent my LAST DIME on RYE, and what was that against the WALL, HOT SEX?
I wrote something down today: Revenge on Valentine's day need not be sweet. This is after a character, "he," uses an ashtray as an arse-tray. His balls water-fall over the edge of the arse-tray and pool on the bathroom floor. Revenge on Valentine's Day need not be sweet.
John Lennon, good guy.
Anyways. Three cops came into work today, in uniform. "How's business," I say. "Steady," one says. I pour soup, make sandwiches. Two of the three tip me. Not bad. Positive communication with the boys in blue, out of the blue.
Mmmm. I want a broken cooke -- white chocolate macadamia nut. Oooh.
It's fun where I work. I was feeling slow when lunch rush was about to start, to I ask for an espresso, and in a minute an espresso in a tiny white glass is waiting for me. Later I sit to a capuccino, and sling sandwiches for families from all over the world. I think Italian families are my favourite. "Si. Si. Piquant? Si."
Ani D. thanks for the music. Somebody complained to the health authorities saying that I was unclean because the bacteria on the money from the cash register can jump onto my apron and then contaminate the food. hahahahaha. Somebody sound the HEALTH ALARM! IT'S THE BIG RED EMERGENCY BUTTON! Most peeps are good, idiots however, are everywhere.
Dude. Today, breakfast was good. Eggs potato and coffee. Only there was avacado, tomato, cheese, mushrooms, whole garlic cloves, orange juice, in the kitchen everybody loves.
I have been considering holding Sunday brunches, where people come over or something. A friend of mine used to host GOFED (Good Ol' Fashioned Eating Day). Seemed like a good idea.
This is a place I hardly know, few rules, nurturer
against the spectre, deli cheeses and corduoroy caps,
large rooms with black cats on the walls,
bottle collectors all time of day -- electricians
and shopping carts.
We don't smoke in the front entrance corner-street house
the smoking chair
an affair beside the plants
nobody waters
sunflower dance across the cieling
windows open year round
Blood around us this time of year, sleigh rides
and truck parades, the holiday season
where Norwegians light-up in coral hawaii mango bars
a sixty-year week on Hokkaido, cheap gifts nobody uses.
I play this game: empties add up
liquor beer and wine
set outside beside traffic
I smoke in the smoking chair
in the room where nobody smokes, ears grounded
for the man who will tinkle the empties
back to the liquor store, a five dollar discount
towards a tax most of us pay, a cheap vacation
across town, free gas, a free rattle in the socket
outside the room where nobody smokes.
The weekend starts here. My folks are coming down on my Sunday. We'll brunch, we'll live, we'll learn. I'm going to buy them some deli treats. Then they're off to Van City and then off to Tokyo. Wow. Wish I were going, but work and everything else got in the way of me stepping on a free plane ticket to the magnificent Orient. I'm not too worried, actually. I'm in no hurry right now to do anything except contact the student loan people and reason or plead with them. Right now, I can't afford to pay off the loan. Fine by me. Journalism sure as shit won't pay for it. In my case, anyways.
Someone returned a sandwich today because I didn't wear plastic gloves. Excuse me lady -- get this. I wash my hands in anti-bacterial soap with almost every sandwich I make. This lady puts her hands into her pockets, hands me a fistfull of money, gets other money from a cash register back, and then licks her fingers -- hello! That make any sense to you? I understand if you're neurotic, but c'mon -- request gloves. I'm more than happy to slip on a pair. When this lady goes to a restaurant, does she think that the chefs and busboys and servers and prep-cooks are all wearing gloves? Whatever. Go be a psycho, see if the world cares.
There's also this other regular, a bit of a nutter, who licks the back of her interac receipt as soon as a I hand it to her.