well, i've gotta say, the first few weeks of this year have been just as good as the last few months of last year. so far, so good. i generally don't like to make resolutions, so i've avoided it this year as usual. of course, there are things that i'm trying to do in my life to improve it, but that process started many years ago.

for the past several days, i've been working like crazy on getting the Old Man site whipped into shape and ready for public consumption (that link isn't live *yet*, but will be soon). The really sad thing is, i think i've ended up putting together a better site for them than i made for my own band… ah well, guess that just means i'll have to overhaul the prick site soon.

and speaking of getting things whipped into shape… i just went out on monday and played racquetball with friend & co-worker ben while our respective significant others did their own workout routine. now, he beat me solidly at 3 games to 1, but i figure i did pretty well considering i've only just stopped smoking recently (well, in the past couple months), and i haven't had a lick of exercise since the last time i played baseball with him & his crew. and before baseball… the last exercise i had was probably the last time i went running… nearly a year ago. needless to say, this body is pushing 30 (well, ok, pulling 29) and severely out of shape. but, i did actually manage to make it through four entire games (and could have done more if the gym hadn't been closing), and i managed to hold my own throughout. ben pretty much took me to school for the first couple games, but once i remembered what the hell i was doing and got warmed up, it was pretty much a dead heat, even battle. i think i can take him, next time.

damnit. i had something else to say, but by the time i got a browser window open to load… whatever it was… up, i forgot what the hell it was i was going to look up. sometimes i really hate being so easily distractable.

anyway, i fully expect you all to hold your breath in anticipation of the new old-man.net. oh, and have a happy geeky wednesday!

(last day in Paris)

Was forced to get up quite early since Andrew's siblings were coming to make use of the Apartment. It was quite a circus with almost two full families in the place. We all shared a little breakfast, then we all set off to go exploring Montmartre (and other areas) together.
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We first went to the Sacre Couer, then to a little market area nearby. After that, we found a little restaurant and all crowded into a back room for lunch.
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After lunch, I split from the pack & went back to the market area to see what souvenirs i could find. In the market square was a large restaurant area, surrounded on the outside by painter's (and other artisans) booths. They were all sitting there painting away, with many other samples of their work there on display for sale.

Unfortunately, as far as souvenir shopping goes, Montmartre wasn't a great place to find "esoteric" or "unique" gifts. It was mainly all the standard stuff, and mainly stuff that i didn't really feel was worth the prices asked. So, in the end, I think i ended up getting stuff for Joyce, Paul, Brax, and that's about it.

Now, my brother and I were scheduled to catch a 6:00pm train to Deauville, and I still wanted to get back to the Louvre again to get some pictures and to sit & sketch the view (an experiment that failed miserably). So i didn't get to just walk around Montmartre like I wanted to, since i spent most of my time there souvenir shopping. I did finally go catch the Metro to the Louvre, walked through the Jardin des Touilleries to the central plaza of the Louvre. I got a few pics from there, then walked back through the Garden to the viewing spot we'd found on our previous trip through.
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After a couple failed attempts to sketch the scene, I just chilled out for a bit before catching the Metro to St. Lazare.

I actually got to the station early, so had to stand around and wait for the family to show up. They did, finally, the tickets were purchased, and Javan & I were on our way.

I think it was the first train ride for both of us, so we enjoyed the experience. We ended up taking lots of photos along the way, probably none of which will turn out.
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Once we finally got to Deauville and found the street we wanted, I slapped him on the back and said "well, you're 15 now. I think you can handle seeing me smoke." (it was actually his birthday, so he'd literally just turned 15) I pulled out a cigarette and lit up. "But, if i ever catch you or hear of you smoking, I'll kick your ass."
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We found the "American House"–the place where my sister used to live that is owned by the exchange education program–and we got to meet the "Deauville girls" (and Jason)

We sat around with them for a while, the plan previously being that the parents (who were being driven to Deauville) should arrive before Javan and I. Since they hadn't shown up, and didn't show up for 30 – 45 minutes, we decided to go on across the street to the restaurant.

We waited for probably another 45 minutes or so, then just went on ahead and ordered. The pizzas were wonderful and very richly flavored. The pie i ordered had ham, cheese, and mushrooms, and was exquisite. The ham used was the French style ham which is smoked/very lightly cooked, not the cold-cut type we're used to.

The parents and Andrew & Sara all eventually did show up, but didn't join us for dinner.

Javan had some Kir & got his picture taken with all the Deauville girls–in France, on his birthday, while his schoolmates were in class. He was getting a big kick out of being the "coolest guy in his school."

After dinner, we went back over to the American house & hung out with Jason for a few more hours until we were afraid our parents just wouldn't let us in the hotel room if we stayed later.

Oh, and it was hilarious during dinner, getting to watch the whole scene with Margaret and her "boy" that's she'd had a year-long crush on.

She'd explained it a little before, but when we got to the pizza place, she was just freaking out. It was a total trip to watch. Plus, of course, all her friends were egging her on, but she couldn't talk to him on her own.

Eventually, as we were checking out, Jason talked to the guy and told him that "it's now or never", then basically dragged Margaret over to talk to him.

They set up a date for the following night, and Margaret was about to explode with excitement.

All in all, one of the funniest things I've seen in a while.

Oh, and it was (as i mentioned earlier) my little bro's 15th birthday. The Deauville girls (& Jason) had a cake for Javan, and there was a little celebration for him after dinner.

Didn't wake up today until 1:30pm, which isn't as bad as Day 2, but still set me back a bit. After taking a shower & doing Sara's laundry, it was well into 4:00pm and I was looking forward to a nice leisurely walk around Montmartre. I called Sara in an attempt to see if I could stop by her office to use the internet, but ended up reaching her at Paulo's where she was napping before prepping dinner.

I'd forgotten all about dinner, which was to be at 7:30pm. All I could think was "another day wasted in Paris."

I did find out from her all the details pertinent to dinner, like Paulo's address and the codes to enter his building. She also told me of a little internet shop on Rue de la Pompe where i could get online.

After finishing the laundry, I set out for the shop. I found it with no problems (i'm finally really getting the hang of navigating Paris' streets), and signed on. I attempted to activate international roaming on my phone, wrote a post for my weblog, and checked my email. No email from Katrina (co-worker) yet, so I guess either there's no company news or she's just forgotten to email me.

After fighting with the french keyboard for 20 minutes or so (very difficult for a touch typist to adjust to a completely foreign layout), I got done what i needed to do and set out for the next half of my stroll. Being 5:30pm or so, I decided to just head in the general direction of Paulo's.

I figured i'd stop at a cafe along the way for a croissant & coffee. I made my way somewhat aimlessly, which I enjoyed since i knew i was heading in the right direction. Of course, I did check the map frequently to make sure i was still on track.

Eventually, I found a nice place, and sat down, ordered a cappuccino & croissant, and read for a bit. This was probably one of the my most perfect moments in Paris. I was… unencumbered. No longer ill at ease with not knowing the language, fairly certain of where i was and where i was going (in a physical sense at least, if not in the sense of "in my life" in general), and didn't feel rushed to get there.

You could say that I finally just enjoyed the moment–being an American in Paris, sitting in a cafe surrounded by Parisians, drinking coffee, and chuckling quietly to myself as I read a book by one of my favorite authors.

I sat for a while until the waiter came out and gave me change, then leisurely got up and started on my way again.

I found Av. Mozart (my next "checkpoint") fairly quickly and started down towards Paulo's. Generally, as i've walked around Paris, i've looked at the shops on both sides of the street and occasionally at people as they'd pass.

About halfway to Rue Jasmin, I happened to look across the street to see a man who looked remarkably like my father. I looked back again, and realized that it was my father… and my mother, and my little brother. I hesitated briefly before deciding to cross the street and greet them.

Fate can certainly play strange cards sometimes, or as mom said (to which my dad, surprisingly enough, laughed)…(and i have no idea how to interpret that) "God watches out for us."

Anyway, as it turns out, the family & Kristin & Ryan were–for all intents and purposes–lost. They knew where they were, but they weren't sure where they were supposed to be going. They had bought one phone card that didn't work, then a second phone card that worked but wouldn't allow them to call Sara's cell phone. They were, in a word, stuck. Out of options, they were going to start trying to call peoples' work numbers (at 6:30pm, at shot in the dark at best).

So, here I am and here they are, fortune smiling down upon us. I noticed them, so one must wonder on whom fortune had laid her biggest hand.

In any event, family and friends successfully rescued by Fate, or God, or both; we proceeded to Paulo's without further incident. Dinner went wonderfully, the two families meeting for the first time.

After dinner, my plan was to make up for lost time and to go walk Montmartre. Of course, my little bro is like a lamprey at times and insisted on going with me. So, i went back to Sara's place with the fam., and we waited for Kristin and Ryan to show up with their luggage.

Once it got past 10:45, I realized that it would be much too late to get any decent time at all in Montmartre, since the last metro would be between 12:30 and 1:00 at the latest.

So, plans foiled once again, I got a head start on my journal and map notations.

Hopefully, tomorrow i'll get to walk around Montmartre before the 5 pm train to Deauville. There is still so much of Paris I haven't seen (& it is mostly my own fault, wasting three days), so it's pretty much certain that I will have to return when the days aren't so stressful for my sister, and when I can afford it.

I've also realized that the trip would have been much better with a companion. Someone who could ensure I get up and go to bed at a decent hour.

As much as it's nice to have Paris one-on-one (or one-on-2-million, depending on your point-of-view), it would also be nice to share it with someone.

for the last couple months, there's been this thing going on in my life that i've not really delved into here on bipolar. well, now that that's been brought to it's (inevitable?) conclusion, and since i can't say these things to the involved party, i thought i'd share them with you. who better to unload on than a motley collection of close friends and complete strangers?

she has returned once again, or rather, had returned. a couple months ago–after a particularly low point in what has become an otherwise smooth emotional roller-coaster, and after i'd just been thinking about her with more frequency–she called me up out of the blue.

she'd been almost completely out of my life for close to two years, and the last time i'd even seen her (at a distance) was more than a year earlier. she called me up and we talked. we talked and we hung out. we hung out and spent hours together. me, being the eternally optimistic, overly forgiving person that i am, was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

i was doing alright, really i was. maintaining emotional control, not letting my thoughts run away, not letting my heart get carried off without my head. i was wary. optimistic, forgiving, understanding, but wary.

among the many things she expressed to me during the time we were hanging out, was the "fact" that she had missed me over the year(s), thought about me quite often, and just wanted to be able to hang out with me again. how sweet.

and i tried to believe her, i really did. unfortunately, the same warning signs kept popping up that i'd learned to take notice of in our previous "moments." she would call and complain bitterly about how bad her days were, about how she had no friends, no one to talk to, nothing to do. how utterly bored she was. i let these things slide. i know her. but, (and does anyone else notice this or is it just me?) it seemed to me like i was a "last resort"–she had no one else to call, so she called me. there was nothing better going on, so she wanted to hang out with me.

personally, i like my friends to be busy. i like for them to be busy and still want to at least say "hey" to me, to at least take a few minutes and just talk about nothing. i have always got something i can be doing, and sometimes i have a bad habit of letting that keep me from doing this for my friends, but that's my fault, something i'm aware of, and something i'm trying to work on. just ask nate, he'll tell you.

anyway, i know that i don't want to be "better than nothing" for anyone, no matter what the circumstances. and, especially if this girl who has fucked me over in extreme ways and on multiple occasions wants to come back into my life and tell me she cares and misses me, she'd better damn well be able to show me that that's true. she'd better say "y'know, i've got some work that i need to get done, but i *really* want to see you tonight. you wanna go get some coffee for an hour or so?"

so, then this france trip came along, and after we'd been spending all this time getting to know each other again, trying to be friends again, talking about what the possibilities were for us as something maybe more than friends, i leave for a week. i leave for a week, and the night before i leave, i have to practically *beg* her to come hang out with me to see me before i take off. hello, flag on the play.

and i called her from the airport the next day and i said "hey, if you're thinking about me, you know you can call my cell phone and leave me little messages throughout the week. i'd like that." when i get back home, there's one message–from Tuesday. fine, y'know, she's busy working, she feels weird leaving me message she knows i'm not getting. fine. whatever. no big deal.

i get home after my long ass flight and call her, but she doesn't answer. i call her again before i go to bed that night, again, no answer. finally, she calls me the next day, and talks about her drunken weekend and apologizing that she didn't call back sooner. she tells me that school's just starting and she's really busy. she can't see me. she's got class tonight. she calls me after class on her way home, and says she has to do homework. she can't see me.

well, so much for being missed.

so, i say y'know what, nevermind. if she wants to hang out, she'll call me. when she's not busy with school, she'll call me. after not hearing from her for several days, the obvious realization sets in. in actuality, she doesn't really care. she doesn't really miss me. she makes no effort to spend even the smallest amount of time with me after i've been on the other side of the planet for a week, so it's fairly obvious that i just don't mean that much to her. and if she doesn't care, then why should i?

i haven't called her back since… i guess it was last wednesday or so, when we talked and i told her some of this stuff. about how i felt like a "convenience friend". how i felt that she didn't really care. she, of course, gave me all sorts of excuses, apologized again, and told me that she really did care. well, again, i think the truth is fairly obvious. she called yesterday and bitched about how "the phone works both ways." my response was just "i know, i've just got a lot going on right now." she called again today to say that she "got the message," and that she was just calling to say "hi" and "goodbye."

i thought about all the different ways that i could undertake to get the explanation of all this across to her–i could call her, i could email her, i could write her a letter and take it to her at work. but i know that, if i did that, it wouldn't make any difference. it would be wasted breath, wasted thought, wasted effort. she won't get it, she won't accept it, she won't learn from it.

still, i had to get this off my chest somehow. i had to go through it to get past it. now it's out there. now it's done.

Sara (my beloved sis) brutally began waking me up around 1 or 1:30pm, and let me tell you: it was not a pleasant experience. After the previous day's walking, my body was sore and tired. After the previous 2 days with little sleep, I did not even want to consider waking up.

But, we were scheduled to meet some of Sara's friends at the train station, so I had little choice. We were also meeting Luigi for brunch a little bit later.

I got up & wearily dressed & prepared for the day. We left shortly thereafter and boarded the Metro bound for the train station. At the station (which is just huge) we met Laura & Margaret, and talked briefly with them before they got on their train to Deauville. Then, we took another Metro to le Marais.

Our destination in the Marais district was a particular cafe that is apparently a favorite of Paulo's, and we met up with Luigi at the intersection of the side street where the cafe was located. Apparently however, the cafe has closed and been replaced by an Italian restaurant.

So, the plans changed, we wandered le Marais for a short while, looking for a good place for brunch.

Now, Sara had described le Marais to me as the "gay jewish" section of Paris, and, while i really didn't notice any of the latter, the former were certainly present in abundance.

Eventually, we found a nice (but very crowded) restaurant where we could sit and have brunch. The brunch menu consisted of a basket of very good breads, 2 large salads with sliced ham, sliced smoked (practically raw) ham, sliced smoked salmon (again, practically raw), and three cheeses. Each salad was meant to be shared by two people. There were also scrambled eggs, which were brought out after the salad, and "unlimited hot drink"–meaning, basically any of the hot drinks on their menu, of which i chose cappuccino. The cappuccino was excellent, very smooth–not bitter or gritty (unlike most cappuccino's i've had in american coffee shops). The rest of the brunch was equally tasty.

At some point during the meal, Sara & Luigi started speaking Italian. It is a bit funny how i came all the way to Paris, but seemed to hear more English and Italian than French. Of course, that has more to do with Sara's friends than anything. And of course, my sister is apparently trying to add a fifth language to the collection of languages that she at least partially knows.

After brunch, we walked from our restaurant in le Marais, down to the Rue de Rivoli, and down the Rivoli to the Louvre. We entered the Louvre near it's center and walked into it's giant courtyard. From there, we walked roughly east through the middle of the courtyard, and into the Jardin des Tuileries. This garden was extraordinarily huge, and we walked slowly, enjoying the weather and surroundings.

About halfway through the garden, Luigi left us to go study or work on something, and Sara, Andrew, and I continued on. At the end of the garden, Sara suggested we go into a little shop so i could attempt to find some souvenirs for friends back home. The only thing of interest was a planting kit for Absinthe, but I know that at least the drink is illegal in the states, so i warily decided not to purchase it.

We stopped to sit so Sara could make a phone call, and enjoyed one of the best views of Paris i've seen so far–aside, perhaps, from the view from the central statue of the Louvre where you can see all the way through the Jardin des Tuileries to the Obelisque and up the Champs Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe. After this brief pause, we left the garden and walked down to and along the Seine for a short bit before catching a bus towards home.

Of course, the bus was horribly crowded and only became more so as we went on, so we got off after a very short ride and finished the rest of the journey on foot.

Once home, and with a glass of Vin d'Alsace Tokay Pinot Gris in my hand, i felt like listening to a little Jazz, and put on a Louis Armstrong/Duke Ellington CD and began drawing the maps from yesterday's journeys. Sara has since given me my own personal map, so i'll just mark my routes on it from here on out.

After a couple hours, Paulo showed up and we all hung out & talked for a bit. We were supposed to be going to their friend Michael's house for a farewell dinner (for him, since he's returning to Germany tomorrow), but he was still at work, so we had to wait longer than we expected. Paulo requested music, and Sara (loving sister that she is) suggested I play the lucifigous prick demo for them. All the explanations were made regarding the recording quality and overzealous use of vocal effects, but they seemed to not hate it (much to my surprise, considering the estimation i'd made of their probable musical tastes). Paulo's eventual comment later at dinner (which echoes the comments of others) was "it was not as bad as i expected." tee hee. I think he was mainly referring to the fact that he was expecting a more loud, heavy, satanic metal sort of sound.

Eventually, Michael called back and said he was finished and that we should proceed to his place. Andrew bowed out (at this point, it was probably 10 or 10:30) since he has to wake up at 5 to meet his family at the airport.

So Paulo, Sara, and I set out for the 17th Arrondisment and Michael's place. We walked part of the way (after taking the Metro) on the Rue de Levis, but i can't remember if that was the street Michael lived on or if it was something else. Rue de Levis stuck out for the obvious reasons.

At Michael's, i got to give my first bissous (french cheek kisses, for lack of a better description) to a stranger (his landlady) who was having dinner with us. I also at this point got introduced to some french dining customs. At the french dinner table, it is not the food that gets passed around, but the diner's plates. Whoever is closest to a particular dish is placed in charge of serving it. I think i made a minor error in etiquette when i served the dish i was in charge of to myself first, though no one but my sister mentioned it (and she only mentioned it by whispering to me "you have to serve everyone else too").

The dinner was pleasant, the food was excellent, and everyone made an effort to speak primarily in english for my benefit. I think, however, that Marie (the landlady) doesn't speak english, so the english talk was occasionally translated for her just as the occasional french was for me. Of course, the German that my sister and Michael were bandying about wasn't translated for anyone, but i'll just chalk that up to my sister's language geekiness.

With dinner, we had an initial glass of champagne, then two different Bordeaux towards the end and with desert. After dessert there was coffee. After coffee, Michael 2 (there were two Michaels present, both were Marie's lodgers) and Paulo convinced Michael to play a little on the piano, which he happily did until the neighbors complained. After that, it was nearly time to catch the last Metro back home.

We walked back down Levis and left Paulo, who was going to catch a Taxi home, at the Metro station Villiers. We rode to the end of the line (Port Dauphine) which is less than 1 block from Sara & Andrew's apartment. Tomorrow will be my first day alone in the city, since everyone has to work. I think I have the Metro figured out at this point, for the most part, but I'm still apprehensive about having to interact with people without a designated voice. We'll see if I manage to get anything to eat tomorrow on my own…

—

and there's day two. boy, when i "document experiences" i really don't fuck around, do i? i know there's not a lot of "impression" and "observation" in these things, these tended to be mainly me trying to get the facts of the day down before i forgot them. they're a bit… broken up seeming, i guess, jumping from one event to the next, mentioning things but glossing over them at the same time. my plan was (and is) to write a final entry basically telling how i felt about the whole thing, along with some of my other observations.

also, if you're reading this Wednesday night/Thursday morning, i plan to get some pictures (which i left at work this evening) online and linked in to certain parts in these entries as well. Then, of course, i'll do a general gallery that i'll hopefully get online by the end of the week or mid next-week. 11 rolls of film. gonna have to sift a bit.

** updated ** i've got some photos in the mix now. enjoy.

ok gddamt. it's way past time for another post. only problem with that is, i'm not entirely sure what there is to write about.

i've been a little fucking social butterfly lately, or so it seems. it's weird after having gone a year or so where i barely left the house save for work. so, i've been out of the house quite a bit lately… hanging out.

i did manage to finally get home to princeton to visit the fam last weekend, and had an enjoyable visit there.

a couple old friends have resurfaced and that's where most of my time has been spent lately.

of course, work is keeping me busy, since i now have to be involved in nearly every single project that passes through our doors. no signs of slowing down there, either.

so, in the end, i've got to adjust. i'm going to have to start making more me time if i have any hope of accomplishing my many goals.

and, this is exactly what i did last night. i finally stole some time from my sleep schedule and built a gallery script for the lucifigous prick site. so, we've now got at least one collection of band photos up there. i'm planning on working up another batch tonight also.

i also have to get in touch with the guy that shot video for us at the show… i really wanna see how that turned out. it'll be weird to watch myself playing music, but weird in a fun way (i hope).

so, go check out the photos if you're so inclined. and if you're not so inclined, well, what the hell do i care?

yeah.

well, what a helluva week.

i feel like i've just been running around crazy the whole time, accomplishing very little besides running around crazy.

in preparation for the show, the band had our normal practice on Sunday night, an extra practice on Monday night, normal practice on Tuesday night, then, of course, the show on Wednesday.

right now i'm trying to remember what i did last night. i stayed late at work (since i was three hours late going in), had dinner, read a comic or two, wrote yesterday's post, uh… talked on the phone for some lengthy amount of time… and i guess that was it.

tonight… more of the same. except tonight is Friday. this means that tonight is drinky-drink & hangout night at the bar. i missed last week's session because i ended up falling asleep around 10:30pm and sleeping 'til 10:30am on Saturday. This week i'm going to actually go out.

now, since nothing else exciting has been going on this week, and certainly not since yesterday's post, i'll leave you with this little blogger's cliche–the search strings.

August's winners:

i'm getting my ass boyfriend back showing myself off to everybody
pee in my butt
child-birthing photos

(that last one's not all that strange, i suppose, but i had to include one that leads to one of my posts. yeah, you see where i'm going with that comment.)

well, i'm off to visit with Mr. Beam, y'all have a good weekend.

woohoo!

man, last night was fun. as paul already explained, the 25 cent rock'n'roll spectacularrrrr went really well.

Old Man had a great set to kick off the night, and everybody seemed to be digging it. It was good to finally get to see them onstage again, after walking in and out on them during practices at the house. besides, when they're playing in the house, i don't get to enjoy their sarcastically witty (or wittily sarcastic) stage banter.

Green Formica Table took the stage and proceeded to blow the doors off. i can't say enough about these guys. i just love 'em. Now, some people i know don't really like them because of some of the atonal chord/note structures and progressions, but i love it. love it love it. some of the stuff they were doing onstage was just making me giggle with glee.

then there was us–the prick, or, as the LEO misspelled it, Lucisigious Prick. "the band of many misspellings", as Paul so eloquently put it. i think leading up to the show (before we took the stage) i was more nervous this time than at our last show. in fact, by the time we started, i was literally just feeling weak and exhausted. it was all alright though, i didn't fall over or have my knee give out on me or anything like that. and, once we got started playing and got through the first song, i was perfectly at ease and enjoying myself. i had a blast. it was also great to get such a good reaction to our new songs (the only ones we've played publicly without first soliciting our friends' opinions).

all in all, it was a great night. good turnout, good audience participation, excellent performances from the bands, and everybody was having fun.

there was the whole thing with the bartender "threatening" to shut down the bar because they weren't making enough money, but the audience really came through when the call was made–"buy more drinks!"

i can't wait 'til next time.

so, yeah, life sucks.

it's like this: a few months ago (you might remember) i took my car in to get the brakes (and some other things) worked on. well, when i got the car back, i heard some noises coming from the brakes when i used them. i, in my limitless ignorance, just assumed that the new brakes had to get "broken in" or something. i fully intended to take the car back to the shop to have them tell me what they did wrong, but i had neither the money nor the time consecutively at the right moments so that i could. long story short, i'm riding around on crappy brakes for a couple months, marveling at the grinding noises of metal on metal at each stop.

cut to: last sunday night.
after a lengthy somewhat frustrating band practice, our hero and his cohort are in a red toyota tercel driving down a side street towards a circular intersection. as they approach the stop sign, our hero begins to apply his brakes. his foot promptly reaches the floor of the car, (SFX: "clunk, thump") which keeps moving with no loss of speed. frantic brake pumping ensues, and the vehicle rolls to a stop just a hair past the stop sign.

Matt: (dripping sarcasm)
"well, that was interesting."

Brax: (concern & confusion)
"what happened?"

Matt: (disgusted)
"the brakes just went out."

Brax: (more concern)
"went out?"

Matt: (more disgust, mixed with incredulity)
"totally. out. gone."

Brax: (concern increasing)
"what are you gonna do? can we make it home?"

Matt: (determined, still disgusted)
"yeah. we'll make it home ok. i've still got the emergency brake."

pull back through driver's side window to shot of car moving slowly down an incline and away from the (stationary) camera.

i don't know if i've mentioned this before, but–aside from all the hot girls in skimpy clothes–i really fucking hate summer. especially summer in the Ohio Valley where the humidty reaches claustrophobic levels. and especially when the AC in your house has decided to be lazy. factor in the fact that my AC in my car is also not working (and that i'm too broke & lazy & anti-spending-more-money-on-my-car to fix it), and you can understand why i feel this way.

there's something about waking up sweating, taking a shower and sweating when you get out, then sweating in the car on the way to work–where it takes about 45 minutes before your body cools down enough to stop sweating. then, at the end of the day–after your car's been sitting out in the hot sun all day under it's direct harsh radiation–you leave the comfortably cool confines of your workplace for your iron-smelting factory of a car, drive home sweating your ass off, then walk inside the house only to realize it's about 1 degree cooler than outside and just as fucking humid.

the something that i was talking about is this:
it sucks. i hate sweating when i'm not doing anything to deserve it. i don't mind a good healthy exercise sweat, i don't mind a good sexual escapade sweat. but i do mind a walking down the stairs, or sitting in front of the TV sweat. blah.

so, anyway, it's hot and i hate it.

our good friend Nate came down this weekend for the cookout that wasn't. so we decided to just hangout and drink friday, and we did a good job of it. as brian mentioned, i got quite quite drunk (as did most everyone else) having consumed a total of (i think) 5 moonbeams most of which were at least 50% whiskey. i'd have to guess that i probably drank about 15 shots worth of whiskey. not too shabby.

and yes, despite the fact that i actually went to bed drunk (which is extremely difficult for me to do), and that i only got in one cup of coffee before doing that, i still woke up with no hangover. i wasn't completely unaffected, but i didn't have a hangover. i had maybe a love-letter from a hangover, or a picture of a hang-over, but not the actual hangover itself. a hint of a hangover.

saturday saw us recovering, and Nathan and I played a *lot* of GTAIII. We went to ZA's about 11ish, and saw Green Formica Table play. I'd heard Paul playing some of their stuff the past week or so, so i had an inkling of what to expect, but they were so so much better than my expectations. They were really good. right up my alley. Take a heavy smattering of experimental Sonic Youth (loud, raucous sound-scapes) tossed with a mixture of esoteric japanese girl-group pop, and you're in the same Zip-code as these guys. The guitar playing was at turns phenomenal and "dreamy." and the drummer was amazing as she sang half the songs while keeping a solid inventive beat. needless to say, i was impressed, and if you're in the Louisville area, you need *need* to check these guys out.

after the show was mostly over (all of our other friends had left when the 2nd band was playing, and we left later on in their set when it became obvious that they weren't going to be able to break out of the formulaic punk music theme) Nate, Brax, and i walked down to the Backdoor so they could split a pitcher. Having drank too much on Friday, i'd declined alcoholic beverages all night, and continued this trend at the bar.

I ran into Geoff there, not having seen him since the day a couple weeks ago when he was laid off from work. It was good to see him again and see that he was doing well. We chatted and joked for a while about various things and generally just took some time to catch up and have a mutual support & reassurance party.

Since Brax & Nate are the only sports fans in our little cloister, they were busily yapping away about sports stuff, so it was just as well that i'd found someone else to hang out and talk to for a while. The rest of the evening, i just kind of hung out and did some people watching. Sipping on my plain coke.

After the bar–more GTAIII. After the GTAIII–the sleep. After the sleep–the call from my sis in France. After the call–you're caught up.

It's been a fun weekend. I've had to set aside my projects, but i'll be back into them hard-core this week.

Ok. It's time for lunch. Gotta go get my Kefc on.