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!