Weekend Activities

Wine and beer tasting at the Tripoli Temple with my parents. I ate a mini cream puff and that shit was good--I forgot how delectably fluffy and sweet but not too sweet they are. I'm gonna go stand in line at the State Fair next year, fuck yeah! Then go watch a pig judging or something. Quite melancholy, exhausted. Almost finished reading Stewart Home's Pure Mania, which I should write about here.

Migraine on Saturday even after an hour of my wussy little version of "working out." My head did not clear until my second glass of Stoli. Thank you, vodka, for doing what you should. I'm still slightly irritated that I fucked up and missed the Street Dogs, but on my budget, I think I would have been pissed off if I would've paid $16 or whatever to see them for only a little over a half an hour. I wasn't gonna go see Neat down in Bayview either; I get so sick of driving now with the Waukesha commute. But Foundation was boring and I didn't want to miss out. It sure was a good time, from what I remember! I am really am so very happy among my Racine crew, what remains of it. It sucks it has shrunk and conflict has ensued, but Neat, Dawn, Tony, Patience, Jill and I can still have a kickass time all by our lonesome selves. I do miss Jeremy and Tom, though, and I wish Josh would make appearances more often, but I understand. Being around those guys last night was something I really needed. I never have to think about what I say or do because everyone will tell me to shut up or whatever if I'm being too bitchy or spazzy; it's just so fucking relaxing.

It was also fun because my friend's brother was there and he cracks me the fuck up! Plus, he introduced me to a cute, good smelling boy and his cool brother and sister in law. I love meeting--and getting along with--new people. That, too, really boosts my energy and makes me think more positively. I can not believe the trek we made to go get nachos! I'm glad we said fuck off to McDonald's though.

I like crazy nights like last night. I really do. I wish every drinking night could be like that for me. A little less than 4 hours of sleep, and I made it to BV to volunteer on time, cleaned up in there, got my required duties done, and also managed to crank out my midterm reports for school. Getting shit done rules!

I don't know. This weekend, being in two nice houses, being around couples who seem happy and are responsible but still have a good time, it just made me feel better. I want some things, and I have to work for them, I guess. Dull that panicked feeling a bit.

Okay, my cat who was neglected all day is giving me that evil neglected pet look. A quick note to my friend in Italy and I'm off…

Friday night is killing me (appropriate Bash and Pop reference)

I want to write about Friday night. It's hard because I don't want to get into dramatics. Just running into person after person. Seeing someone I was good friends with in the past sitting two seats down from me at that bar and not feeling able to say hi because of something he did that I had heard about but never had confirmed until I moved back here. Bumping into the girl from the school where I teach and asking her drunkenly if she went to that school. My god, I hope she doesn't recognize me in the halls. She stands out because she is tall and dresses very funky, creatively. Her style is sort of messy but her personality exudes. I like it. It reminds me of me when I was a more idealistic early-twenty something.

I'm listening to the new Samiam. It's not impressing me--seems weaker than their other stuff, even Astray, but I will give it a few more listens. They've never been a very original band, but they always given me that good feeling, (except when I got way into bullshit indie rock for a few years). Whenever I listen to Samiam they evoke positive memories of back in the day. Drinking just enough, seeing shows and acting like tards with people you love the shit out of, swaying to the music with your arms around each other, being young and somewhat optimistic still, all the good clichés. I first heard Soar in my suitemate Vicky's room at UWM in 1993. I LOVED it. I was so disappointed that year or the next when Samiam played a show here but I couldn't go because I was too young. I remember sitting on the Brady St curb and pouting about it.

Yeah, I don't know about this record. But if they play Milwaukee soon, and they're supposed to, I'll go since I've never seen them. Maybe manage to reclaim that feeling for an hour and a half, however altered it will be with age, sort of like what I felt at the Service show.

I drank too much, again. The minute I walked through those familiar doors, I felt uneasy. Too much nervous energy for a place I'm so comfortable in. Someone gave me a wedgie, for real, and someone almost knocked me down hugging me, and then I saw some people from Rattown, and then I got to talk to my Cheezit and T for a bit. That part I liked. And the part where the straight boy kept repeating to Cheezit, "you're cute, but I'm not gay!" Haha! I annoyed Mike from Beer City--that was pretty good. Ex-roommates and apples. I never noticed his dimple before. Bought a dude a shot cuz he deserved one, and of course I had to have one, too. I actually wanted to stay there, but I left, and it just got ridiculous.

I have never been at the hip bar when it's been that out of control. If I remember correctly, the hoards didn't pour in until about a half an hour before closing time. All of the young, obnoxious bodies blur together at this point, but I was cringing. I should have left. I don't know why I did another shot. I don't understand what I was trying to forget about, what I was trying to dull. I didn't intend for my night to end that way, going home at 4am and feeling like complete shit on Saturday morning, being snappish with my friend on the phone. I had planned for a nice, mellow day and I just felt so insanely cloudy headed, impatient, and irritable. Parts of the day were fun--hearing the teen mimic a Milwaukee character, having my friend totally zero in part of my Halloween costume, and the boxing Halloween cat pen from Target is going to improve my mood for months (it has boxing gloves instead of paws, and you push the levers and it punches out at you!!! I brandished it at a tutor I was tutoring today, jokingly, and boy, that was fun). However, I would've enjoyed myself so much more if I hadn't drank like a fool and stayed up so late. Plus I was with someone who is actually capable of having an intelligent conversation, someone I have been actually learning from in some ways, and that's good and rare for me, so that made me more frustrated.

Nothing I can do about that night, but it just felt so fucked up. An acquaintance pointed out that there was a full moon. He said he felt the anxious, angsty aura too. Could have played a part in it.

Well, Samiam's still on and it's still just all right. No worries, I still got Clumsy…and Soar.

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Friday, October 06, 2006


I'm a big, bad shit talker!

Today I spent too much time at work responding to an angry person I once sort-of-dated five years ago when I was living in Chicago. I had written a few things about him on my blog and he was angry and accused me of "shit talking" and went on about how "shit talking on the internet" is so lame, I'm so lame, etc. I used his first name once; the other time I didn't use his name.

A few months back, another dude had gotten upset with me because I wrote about his penis on my blog. I didn't use his name.

Two years ago, I characterized someone negatively yet accurately and amusingly in one of the columns I wrote about returning to Milwaukee for an online magazine (I did so to make a point, but I used his first AND last names because I didn't expect he'd ever read it--dumb assumption, but true, and I won't make that mistake again). A lot of people were very critical of my stylistic choice. I could've conveyed the description in a less insulting manner, to be sure. But if I was a well known male writer in the punk "scene," I don't think people would have judged me so harshly.

Get over it, boys. Writing about someone or something honestly is not shit talking, and even though I said this previously, I'll say it again: I ain't gonna shut up.

I write. Get it? The majority of my posts here are not mind blowing, fantastic, or even well-written, but it's what I do. I can write about whomever I want, whenever I want if that person has come into contact with me. It's the risk folks take when befriending writers. I will feel especially justified in calling people who have treated me poorly a fucking dumbass or idiot asshole, if that's how they've behaved. Anyone I write about can feel free to post a blog about what a fucking bitch cunt I am for calling him ex-idiot retard. It's America, folks. Yes, censorship occurs, but for the most part, we're still free to say or write what we want.

Now, when it comes to people's personal information, I have a different attitude. I would not want to alienate or hurt friends by making public their personal problems even if it would work as great evidence in a piece I'm writing. I would get permission before sharing specific details of their lives, even anonymously, with strangers.

Just now, I felt a little weird reading over the post where I called the Chicago dude a "dumb fucking ass" because I also mentioned my friend's divorce, and here I am mentioning it again. I didn't give specifics, but I did mention his personal business. Hopefully he is not salty with me. I doubt it, but sometimes I probably should be more careful.

One thing I did learn from this internet skirmish today was that perhaps I should try to be a bit more creative when I'm insulting people. I do possess the rhetorical skills necessary to make it clear someone is a "dumb fucking ass" without being so ranty and vulgar. Writing more and writing better consistently is more important to me now than it has been in a long time, so posing a challenge to myself can only help strengthen my writing.

But I stand by my claim. I don't think it's shit talking to write or talk about someone who has wronged you. To me, shit talking is spreading rumors or discussing people who you don't know well and/or when you don't really know what happened during the situation you're discussing (you heard the info third hand, perhaps). I do this too much too, but usually in Riverwest bars with good friends, not on my blogs (another habit to rid myself of, maybe).

It seems to me, that if people are going to be assholes, they shouldn't be so surprised when others need to vent. I mean, really. Next time, don't contact me three times to invite me to see me while your in town and act aloof and hurtful when I show up, don't persist in sleeping with me just to prove something to yourself, and just admit you're an alcoholic and get on with it already!

My friend Jen from Chicago came up to visit me Saturday afternoon. There was nothing going on, and we weren’t feeling like resting our asses on a bar stool all night, so we decided to rent a movie that we thought would be amusing enough to keep us from falling asleep before midnight on a Saturday.

Everyone raved about Wedding Crashers. Owen Wilson, Vince Vaughn, Christopher Walken--a great combo of actors, no? I've enjoyed Wilson in the Wes Anderson films, and Vaughn was good in Dodgeball, Swingers, etc, etc, etc...I thought that even if the movie was cheesy, it'd be good cheesy. I was so wrong!

I enjoyed the prelude, where they're counseling that couple (was that dude Dwight Yoakum???) The wife snaps, "You keep your mouth shut when you're talking to me!" and Jeremy and John or whateverthefuck their names are point out that the sooner they are amicably divorced, the sooner he can continue screwing his mistress and she can find some hot "Latin" guy to get it on with. I found her comment ridiculous and their advice refreshingly honest and was therefore amused. I expected the rest of the movie to follow suit, but it was complete ass!!!

First of all, the sexism was infuriating. The beginning scene that shows them crashing all of the weddings, and throwing those skinny, mostly naked chicks on the beds, boobies full in effect, girls they wooed with their stupid, played out lines...insulting and just unrealistic. Clearly, I understand that "it's just a movie" but such movies play on male fantasy--that's what generates the interest and the cash. I know that a lot of dudes want more in a woman than a small brain, adoring eyes and a full rack, but this movie continually perpetuated the stereotype that women are gullible and men are conniving sex fiends, which is SO FUCKING BORInG.

Secondly, all of the characters were merely overexaggerations of every played out archetype. The drunk, crazy old grandma, the powerful yet humble politician, the oversexed wife who craves male attention, the sweetheart girl working to save the world, the academic jock who never grew up, the supposed older, wiser role model who is actually a big fucking jackass....etc, etc. BORING, BORING, BORING!

Thirdly, the plot was just way too saccharine. Wilson finally gets the girl by crashing her sister's wedding?!? LAME! So predictable. Lots of movies are predictable. Lots of movies revolve around a familiar plot. But there's gotta be a little something more to make it interesting!

If you are going to play on stereotypes, you have to find a new twist, at least. Make it a little bit smart, a wee bit smart, please! It's like the 40 Year Old Virgin--another dumb movie showcasing boring, stereotypical characters. Mere buffoonery. Take one trait and exaggerate it until there's nothing remotely relatable about the character. Nothing to challenge the viewer at all. That movie was a bit better, but all of Carrell's friends; god, they SUCKED!

Now, I'm all about some fluff, some just for pleasure, no brainer films. I'm not an art-film snob. I love teen films. But most of them are sassier and funnier than the movies I'm criticizing above. Heathers, Mean Girls, even the John Hughes stuff--there's stereotypes a plenty, but all of the movies have a message and a bit more edge.

Movies such as Wedding Crashers simplify life to such an extreme extent. People will deny it, but I think prolonged exposure to such media does affect us. Makes us lazy, expecting much from little effort, makes us believe too much in the American dream and Prince Charming. The key is limited exposure, or none at all. Personal choice comes into play, too, of course. But I think of folks who only see these types of films not by choice but because they don't know alternatives exist. I think it fucks with you. Personally, I can't stand the one dimensional ways such movies present male-female relationships. That's why I try to avoid them.

I'm just glad I got to share my disgust with a good friend. That is the only part of the 128 minutes that was worthwhile.