8-13-2006
I need to consult the calendar for this one. Reverse chronological.
8/12
Attended Morning Glory craft fair with my mother downtown. When I arrived I found out she’d been waiting on the corner for almost 20 minutes. Guess I went about making those pancakes too leisurely. My stomach murmured at me. Guilt. I didn’t admit how late I’d left because when I arrived I stood out front, not on the side. She thought we were both merely waiting for one another. I normally am not so dishonest with my mother.
After the fair we browsed at TJ Maxx and Linens-n-Things. A real adventure of a day. I found a navy, light blue, and white checked quilt to throw atop of my futon and some matching navy pillows. I paid for the pillows, mom paid for the quilt. Afterwards, we stopped at the best-priced produce stand I’ve visited in Milwaukee, right there in the Grand Avenue Mall. Asparagus is $1.99 a bunch! The same price’ll get you a large box of strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries but they were sold out by the time we got there--I saw the lone box sitting on the crate as we entered TJ’s, but I didn’t expect it to remain. The guy who runs it is a cute Mexican with an anarchy symbol tattoo.
Returned home and eagerly dolled up my futon. My living room now looks like, well, a living room. Still needs more pictures though. My metrosexual friend is supposed to help me with that. Ate more garlic chicken and veggies smothered in chicken juice. Watched too much TV. But I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Half-heartedly searched for materials to use in my classes.
8/11
Spend most of the work day composing a ‘poem’ about the dumbest man I’ve let caress my boobies. Too bad he did it so well. First night off in too long. Baked three large chicken breasts I’d purchased on sale for a grand total of $2.43. Much needed vegging occurred.
8/10
Chicken wings with Chad, Eric, Bec, Scott, two other people I don’t really know, and then Jen showed up near the end. Glad Chad had ordered extra because I hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t walked either. Napping was more necessary. Wings and a Bloody Mary. Not a good idea. At 6:47 my phone rang and it was the ex-idiot from Chicago. He’d myspaced me two days previous, stating that he’d be riding his bicycle up to Milwaukee on Thursday with a friend, and upon arrival would be “using party as a verb.” He sent me his number. Fully not expecting to hear from him, I’d sent along my number also. I was excited. He was downtown. Come to the bar I’m at! I exclaimed. He’d just arrived after biking for about eight hours so he wanted to chill first. Yeah, makes sense. I told him I thought I’d be done with the Rollins/X show around 10pm. That guy drinks Pabst, plays bass, freeloads, and acts like a wanna-be rock star for a living. I couldn’t believe he could bike that far. Around 8pm, Jen and I left for the Rave, such a bullshit venue. They made us walk all the way around to the side entrance, walk down some stairs, wind around and then walk back up some stairs, only to end up where we would’ve if their stupid asses would have let enter the wide open front entrance doors, and my friend has a gimp knee! Grrrr. Some terrible opening band was nearly done playing when we got there, so we sat in the side bar. Ran into a friend’s very lively brother, and then Ed stuck his finger in my ear and of course I had to make a dumb joke, then almost immediately thereafter Bec found me.
Rollins was predictably boring. Ex-idiot texted me at 8:56pm, informing me that they were “going to at random-then? call me if I don’t pick up I’m on tha bike.” Nice, I thought, keeping me updated and everything. The minutes dragged on for me and of course it took them a full half an hour to change over to X’s set. Jen was feeling pretty miserable due to her early morning migraine, but Eric and Trish were all couple-y and gleeful, though. I don’t get jealous though. I’m too bitter to even be jealous these days. Numb is perhaps a better word.
We left around 11pm after I have pooped approximately two times in The Rave’s Women’s Restroom. Fucking gross, but there was nothing I could do. Goddamn chicken wings. I’m so glad that music was playing loudly.
When we got to my car, I had a ticket. Well, I wasn’t sure. My mind was racing around its neurosis track. I was so curious to see the Ex-idiot and see what happened. Jen didn’t think it was a ticket. I ignored until after I dropped her off across the street from her vehicle on Van Buren. Fucking $30 ticket. Didn’t see the No Parking sign. Preoccupied. So jumpy at that point; he wasn’t responding to my calls or text. I rationalized: He was in Bayview, and my cell often gets shitty reception there, so maybe his did, too.
I drove down the wrong way on LMD. Fuck! What was wrong with me! Tired, buzzing, jacked up, TIRED. I finally got down there and wondered which bar he’d be at: Garibaldi (sp), Cactus, or Palomino. I’d seen a picture of his bike on his myspace profile, and there it was, outside the place featuring a Tater Tot Po’Boy. Searched inside, almost didn’t see him. And then there he was, redfaced from the sun, sideburns with hair upturned so sweetly. Tighter jeans than usual. He greeted me aloofly, like the hipsters he despises would. I told him his phone was acting up, but he said no, he’d just left it his bag. (Even though he knew I’d be calling around 10:30-11pm, as I told him in the text.) Five year hiatus from in person contact and that was the greeting I got. I bought a drink, so I wouldn’t look too uppity, and sat down among him, his friend, this girl from fucking Racine (she’s nice, but fuck Racine), and two fucking dingbats--don’t know why they were there. The dingbats were screaming about going to the Smiley Face Café because Girls! Drink! Free! I leaned over to the Idiot and told him authoritatively that he’d hate it there. We weren’t conversing much. He didn’t ask me anything about myself, as usual, but I asked him. I think I make him feel dumb. That’s not hard though, because he is.
I tried to convince him to just spend an hour with me somewhere else because he’d hate that place, but instead he cut me off in mid-sentence outside, next to his bike. Those dummies were screaming to hurry so he jumped in their car, even though when I said I’d drive him somewhere he responded defensively, I HAVE THE BIKE! What Are You Doing In An Hour? He asked. I’ll Be At Home, I said, irritated. I’ll Call You In An Hour. I Won’t Be Around. We each walked towards our cars, not looking back, no goodbye.
So pissed at the waste of time, the waste of gas, the waste of a hopeful feeling. He always acted weirdly around me in public, but I forgot about that, since we no longer have a romantic attachment to one another. I just didn’t think I’d have to worry about that type of dumbass behavior. Fuming, I called Eric, who offered to hang with me after he and Trish ate grilled cheese sandwiches. That was nice. They’re nice. But I needed alcohol asap. So, I drove to Foundation because I was pretty confident I’d run into at least one person I liked and could vent to, and I did.
I cried on the way home. Exhausted. Drunk. Let down by predictable behavior that was so predictable I could not predict it.
At 4:53am that fucking jackass called me and wanted to know what I was doing. I shouldn’t have answered the phone but I was standing in front of it. Dumbfuck. I told him I was going to sleep. He told me they’d rushed to the bar only to not be let in. I TOLD YOU! I gloated. Ha. After that I was sort of glad I answered the phone. Jesus Christ. His late night call didn’t surprise me at all. Drunks drunk dial, and sometimes they even show up on your doorstep. I wonder if I would’ve let him in if he would’ve done the latter, not the former. I hope not. He’s deleted now. Too bad I can’t delete him from my memories as well.
8/9
Traveled down to Chicago with Jana, Erich, and Jerod. They were going to see Tom Waits. I was going to meet up with an old friend from Chicago, who’d just returned after two years in Boston, one in Atlanta, and hopefully see two other friends as well. Jana tried to cram me on top of Erich’s lap, telling me the car seat for her son doesn’t move. That was pretty funny. Thankfully she agreed to drop it off at the house. I’d sat bitch two nights previous. Not again. Please, not again. My back still aches! Erich and I amused ourselves by trading back and forth some silly celebrity magazines. They certainly help pass the time. Nicole Richie and Lindsay Lohan at their skinniest are scary, ugly bitches, that is for sure.
We drank some cellar temp imported alcoholic beverages at our old Friday night hangout, the Duke of Perth, on Clark St. Their prices went up, their menu changed, but their beer didn’t, too much, except for they traded Young’s Oatmeal Stout for the Double Chocolate Stout. I ordered a Bellhaven instead. Seeing Hilly standing outside the bar didn’t feel strange at all. It didn’t feel like five years ago. It felt natural. Good. Booting some people from past from the curb, that need to go, and bringing in others who need to stay. I almost had forgot about her fry fetish, until she muttered, “you have more fries than me!” when we received our dinners. Aw, my little tater tot girl. After much chit chat and more joke telling from the boys (A chicken and an egg are laying next to each other. The chicken’s languid and smoking a cigarette and says “I guess we answered that question.” HA!) Hill and I headed down to Reckless and then to Ragstock together. Tried to hit Chicago Comics but they’d closed. Back to her place to have some beers and meet Jen T and Jonas. Their apartment is so beautiful. That’s all I’ll say. One day I’ll get a good one too. We were both very worn out and loopy, but it was still a good time. JT and J showed up like an hour later, Jonas getting his ass all lost somehow. It was nice to be sitting with my Chicago friends again. So different from my Milwaukee crew.
We got back to Milwaukee around 1:45am, one day left of socializing, could I do it?
8/8
Just work and an outing to where I’ll be teaching (FULL TIME! Wooo hooo!) but that’s enough for the day. I met with the woman who used to have my job, and she was cordial. Finally met the associate dean who had passed me the info on the position, and he has a pierced ear and wore Vans. I don’t think I’ll have a problem fitting in, especially after my direct boss said to me (in response to me thanking him for suggesting me for the job) “Yeah, you were my third choice.” HAAAHH! I love a sense of humor. Excellent! Oh, and the dean informed me indirectly that I’d been chosen over a recent Ph.D from UWM. Motherfucking vindication! Who needs you, UWM? NOT ME! HA!
Grueling rush hour drive home. Almost got in an accident due to the spazzy drivers ahead of me. My heart was in my throat. The commute’s gonna be a bitch.
8/7
Queens of the Stone Age in Green Blah, Wisconsin. I drove up with Chad, Scott, Keith and their friend Dan who’s moving away shortly. The Queens played at Oneida Bingo Casino, but before we headed there, we stopped over at Lambeau Field for a little tailgating action during the Packer practice. Yep, there’s a practice field behind the stadium, and the Packers sport just their spandex shorts and Jerseys---no padding--and practice plays. The street’s closed down, bleachers are set up, and so are portapotties. After gnawing on an Italian sausage pattie burger topped off with pepper jack cheese and some other picnic food, oh, and buying my grandma some Packer earrings (why does the ’s’ fall off Packers when using the word as adjective?!?), I got to see Brett Favre’s surprisingly tight butt run a few yards.
Then it was off to the show. Oneida is an eyesore, and the show was in a tent in a lot adjacent to the casino. For thirty dollars I got to see a band in a tent. Wonderful. The band were, in a word, tight, and that’s really all I have to say. Josh Homme told the bouncers they were paid to do what he told them to, which I don’t necessarily think is true, but it was sort of funny. He’s really not that sexy.
8/6
Volunteered at Broad Vocabulary (haven’t gone yet? Well hurry up!), then home to nap, then it was time for Sonic Youth! They were fucking great. This band the Go Team opened and I was really impressed by their energy and their want to entertain the crowd via plain old enthusiasm, not pretense, and synchronized dance moves. The black girl singer was really hot in her skirt and knee socks combo, and she had some moves. Acoustics were bad but they were fun anyway.
Sonic Youth opened with Schizophrenia. Nice. Then it was mostly songs from Rather Ripped for about an hour. They played Kool Thing, a real stand out. Stage lit just right, Kim dancing around in her cute, white mini dress and white tights. Yeah, a stand out. First heard that song 15 fucking years ago, that’s crazy to me, and the band had been around for about 10 years then. Fuck. I’M OLD! Ha. But they sounded great, my whole body felt, I danced and danced. And ripped apart my friend’s earring with my rhinoceros ring. And danced. And drank a reasonably priced Point beer. After they played 100%, though, the show went downhill for me. That dumb dude jumped on the stage and dived, Lee Renaldo got pissy at security then apologized, and to me, the energy was gone. They only played for an hour and a half, and played only 4 or 5 songs that weren’t from the new one. Ah, well, the first hour alone was worth it. Cute moment when Kim put her hand on Thurston and just shook him while she danced, and he played guitar. You could see beyond their rock star personas to the intimate friend/partner/lover relationship they have. Renaldo’s hair’s so gray. Steve Shelley never sings. Never thought they’d excite me as much as they did in high school. They did.
8/5
Trip to Kenosha Outlet mall with my mom. There’s new stores. I’d never been even though I lived in Kenosha and Racine for years. The new Coach store was fun to visit, all of the ladies so excited, scoping the 20% rack, tittering in excitement. I tried to get my mom to buy a purse, show those uptight Shrine ladies, but she wouldn’t. I got some lace up flip flops sort of Roman-style, a pair of stretch skinny jeans from Pacific Sun of all places, a pair of light weight green cord skinny pants from the Gap, who had good deals and yes their politics suck but they were $15 and I told the clerk about Art vs. Craft and almost knocked out the grandpa standing too closely behind me in line, and a cute halter top from Izod. I decided DKNY is trash.
I ate my first hamburger in 15 or so years. Made sure to throw all of the fixings on that shit. I pooped, but because I had to. The meat didn’t make me sick. Yeah! Best corn on the cob of the season thus far, too.
After I left my parents’, I met Jen at Foundation. Cheezit wouldn’t accompany us to Lulu to hear the Mexican/punk polka band but he’s an old man and it’s to be expected. We had a nice time catching up anyway, and at Lulu my friend’s dad bought us our drinks. I didn’t drink rail all night, and that’s the only reason I wasn’t worse for the wear on Sunday. I tried some coconut vodka with seltzer. Dumb. Had some pineapple juice added in, but should’ve gone with that originally. Yuck. Later at the bar, my friend went off on the pretentious guy who kept trying to change his mind, and my friend made some funny analogy about drinking grape juice with beer. “You like King Missile and I don’t. You might like grape juice in your beer, but I might not. King Missile is like grape juice in my beer!” Ha! Alcohol-fueled debate between two opposing personalities. A good spectacle.
8/4
Hungover. Hysterical. Ridded myself of the presence of someone from my past. Several people can only be memories now. It’s dumb and dramatic but I want and need to move on. Too much baggage from my old life here, I’ve realized. Holding on to too much, not realizing I can let the grip loosen and still be who I am. My mental health wanes too often. Gotta reel that shit in. I have a job with a title for fuck’s sakes! For the first time EVER! Bopping up in down in chilly Lake Michigan for an hour and half and then eating very many slices of pepperoni, sausage, and black olive pizza and imbibing sweet chilled red wine proved for a restful evening. Came home and watched TV. Slept well.
8/3
Wings. Found out my father’s mother had contacted my grandma. Wanted my information. Address, number. Grandma didn’t know what to do so she gave it to her. It shocked the shit out of me. Haven’t seen my dad since I was 14. Haven’t heard from her since she sent me that ridiculous, insulting, hurtful card for my undergraduate graduation. They are/were memories I don’t think of often. She wants to bury the hatchet. She’s 81 years old after all. He’s 59. Owns some property now. That’s good, ex cokehead dad. Supposedly they are going to contact me. She wants a lunch, he is gonna send a letter. After becoming quite alarmed for a bit, I chilled. Believe it when I see it/hear it. Upon retelling all of this to my mom, though, something hit me: my dad was an addict for years. But I’m the furthest from that. I’m not addicted to anything except for frequent obsessing and cheese. I never noticed if he was high on anything. I wouldn’t have known. My mom said maybe I just have more her in me than him. Maybe. Interesting.
Met someone who is pretty much a stranger for a drink. Tried huckleberry vodka. Yummy stuff. He invited me to see Billy Idol wave his fist and cry Mo’ mo’ mo’! VIP and more vodka for free. Idol’s got a great body and is attentive to his audience. He likes to hand out water. Steve Stevens was pretty rocking. They covered Jump by Van Halen, played a really nice version of Eyes Without a Face complete with a bit of flamenco guitar, and they even played Ready Steady Go! Got to see Cheezit totally geek out during the show, and he was so hyper afterwards. It was cool to see him so happy and sociable, so his age, just living a bit. Foundation afterwards. I’d met Cheezit’s good friend way back in the hanging at the coffee shop amongst the Goths and punks and hippies days. Haven’t seen or heard of her since probably 1991 or 1992. Interesting lady Cheezit wasn’t sure if I was good enough to meet. Well I have, so ha! Drinking too much, blueberry stoli and lemonade, beers, whatever. Young Ones watching at Cheezits. I still just can’t get in to that show. They just yell too much. I can’t handle it.
My past and present have been converging really seriously lately. Well parts I’m trying to purge. I am curious to see what happens next. It has got to get a bit better. The dysfunctional can’t win. No. That won’t do, at all.
