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then i'll be really upset.
seriously.
that song makes me so happy.
so very very happy.
i know most people are sick of it.
and anyone that's trying to be "cool" will say how lame that song is.
but i don't care.
i love it.
every single time i hear it, i get happy.
it reminds of times when i was young, and when life was carefree and fun.
i remember being at a slumber party in the fifth grade and seeing the video at a friend's house.
and we loved it.
and we laughed.
and it was awesome.
it's not Christmas if i don't hear that song.
here's my list of favorite Christmas songs.
if you have itunes, or one of those type services, download em and make yourself a Hellacious Christmas mix. better yet, make one for me too. i don't have half these songs.
Christmas in Hollis- Run DMC
Merry Christmas (I don't wanna fight tonight)-The Ramones
Fairytale of New York- The Pogues
Christmas is a time to say i love you- Billy Squier
2000 Miles- The Pretenders
Merry Christmas from the family- Robert Earl Keen
Little Drummer Boy- Bob Seger
Christmas all over again- Tom Petty
Merry Christmas (Baby Please come home)--U2
Do they know it's Christmas- Band Aid
Father Christmas- The Kinks
Christmas in Prison- John Prine
I believe in father Christmas- Greg Lake
Little Toy Trains-- Roger Miller and Dean Miller
Little Drummer Boy-- Joan Jett (i know--it's on here twice--i don't care)
and of course, Grandma got runover by a reindeer by Elmo and Patsy.
so what are you waiting for?
get to it.
i'll be expecting a cd from one of you kind readers anyday now.
Christmas is soon.
if you need my mailing address just let me know.
Happy Holidays
The weekend was full of music and fun and sun. I loved it. On Friday the temperatures finally made it out of the 30. And we were grateful. We went down to San Marcos and wasted time. We had great plans that all fell through. We were going to go do a load of laundry and mary was going to go do some Yoga. While doing Yoga I was going to play Ms. Pacman at the Laundromat. I was actually looking fwd to it. The main item that we had to launder was the mattress cover on the futon mattress we got for the back of our truck. So, at the Laundromat, we try to take it off and realize it’s attached. Gross. That means we can’t take it off to wash it. Gross. That means we need to get some Lysol, and then a sheet to put on top of the sheet that’s on there. Can bed bugs crawl through another sheet layer? I don’t know. I hope not. Gross.
So that messed up our laundry plans. And by then, it was too late for Mary to go to Yoga. So we wasted a little time and came home. Then we went to a free concert for about 45 minutes. I was psyched that mary actually came with me. She didn’t hate it, but she didn’t like it either.
Saturday we had a pretty full day. And it was really fun. Every year Austin has an “Armadillo Holiday Bazaar”, which is one of the greatest things ever. In this huge warehouse type building they have dozens of vendors set up selling their homemade arts and crafts and jewelry and whatnot. AND they have food and beer and liquor. AND they have music. Real music. Good music. And it’s cheap—never more than $5. It’s super. If the arts and crafts stuff was actually in my price range, it’d be absolutely perfect. As it is, it’s pretty close. Especially for a boy like me and a girl like mary. I go watch the music. Mary goes and shops. And drinks. Perfect. Saturday a group I really wanted to see was there—Chip Taylor and Carrie Rodriguez. They were great. I’m psyched I got to see them. They were really cool, and really good. They’re a weird mix. Chip Taylor is this older guy—at least in his 50s. He’s been around forever. Back in the day he wrote a couple huge hits---a little song called “Angel of the Morning” and a monster song called “Wild Thing”. He basically lived off of those royalties for years, became a gambling addict, and gave up on the music biz for a long time. A couple years ago he met Carrie Rodriguez, who is really young—in her 20s, and he was instantly taken with her, and asked her to become his musical partner. And the rest they say is history. Wow. They’re really good. I’d never seen them before. Didn’t really know what they looked like. Mercy. Carrie Rodriguez is pretty hot. And can sing and play. It’s a lethal combination. And Chip has all the experience, and all the skills. They’re a great duo. Chip told a great story about “Angel of the Morning”, and how it had been a hit 3 times. And how the last time was by a rapper named Shaggy. He told how Shaggy changed some of the lines, and added a couple lines, one of which said “closer than my peeps you are to me”. Chip said he had no idea what that meant, but he met Shaggy, and said he was a really nice guy, and Shaggy explained that the line meant his woman was closer to him than even his friends. Fair enough. Glad Shaggy was a nice guy. And Chip probably made a ton of bucks off the song too. Chip and Carrie played all the songs that I wanted to hear them play, and they also played Wild Thing and Angel of the morning, which was super cool too. I totally love Angel of the Morning by Juice Newton. She belts it out. I remember when G and I discovered that song in college. G was scared to admit that he liked it, since we usually just listened to Hank and Waylon and the like. I told him there was no reason to be ashamed about liking that song. It was awesome. I had to go get the tape right away. I wish I had that tape here now…
Saturday night we cooked a meal over at RM’s and fed he and MK and MK’s kid. And RM made margaritas. And I made my triumphant return to the sweetness of alcohol. And I passed out at 9.30. It was awesome.
Yesterday we went for a hike in a state park. It was a totally boring state park, nothing like the Pedernales Falls park that we went to a couple weeks ago. This was pretty much like walking around in a field. None too exciting. But at least we got some exercise. And at least we actually got out in nature. And we did see 2 more real live armadillos. Armadillos are cool.
When we got back MK had his grill fired up, so he invited us over for burgers, and dogs and sausages. I was psyched. I love grilled burgers. As I bit in though I hit the dreaded object. Son of a whore. I forgot that MK puts onions in his burgers. Dang. I hate onions. Can’t stand them. Can’t understand why people put them in their burgers. So sad. It ruined the meal. I tried to eat around the onions, but it was loaded. So I ate a dog and a sausage. MK told us his conspiracy theory that Richard Ashcroft of the Verve Pipe, and now a solo artist, was really Mick Jagger’s son, and that’s why he became a star. The theory was so preposterous I couldn’t even respond to it. I just ignored it.
Then I took a nap, and then I went to a concert by myself. And I’m glad I did. Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers were playing for free. I’d heard good things about him, and new some of his songs from his old band the Refreshments. I didn’t know what to expect. Holy crap. It rocked. And it was awesome. I only caught the last part of his set, but that was just in time. I heard the Refreshments song that I know (I think it’s called Bandititos), and he followed that up with a cover of Tom Petty’s “American Girl”. A lethal doubleshot of rock. It was awesome.
Man, sometimes I forget how good Tom Petty is. For many many years I was the biggest TP fan in the world. In recent years as I’ve discovered old country and Americana and some other stuff, I don’t listen to Petty as much as I used to. But whenever I hear it I love it.
Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers were really good. Gruene Hall was more packed than I’ve ever seen it for one of their afternoon shows. It was a good time.
Except there were a lot of obnoxious people there. And the group in front me could not seem to refrain from actively participating in 2 of my main pet peeves.
I'll discuss that tomorrow.
Tune in then to find out what you shouldn't do at concerts or in daily life.
Here’s what happened last week as best I can recall. Dang…it’d be easier if I jotted things down immediately after they happened. As it is now, I’m having to use up all of my brain power. And I lose concept of time. And no one has any idea what actual date I’m talking about. I’ve thought about that actually, and I would put the date if I knew it. But Wimberley is like a time warp. I never have any concept of time. It’s hard enough for me to remember what day of the week it is, let alone what the actual date is. But just for reference, since I sort of know the dates are for this week, i can figure out that the dates mentioned below took place somewhere around and in between Dec 3 thru Dec 8.
On Saturday, which was approximately Dec 3, I already mentioned that I was extremely hungover. I spent most of the morning thinking I was going to die. But by evening I had recovered long enough to go see a concert. I mentioned that too I think. What I did not mention was that my first time ever getting to go backstage at a concert. By now I’ve probably been to over 300 concerts. But I’d never been backstage before. Now I have. It was pretty cool, but nobody really knew who I was so they were all a tad suspicious of me—like I was a Narc or something. Every now and then their conversations would get really hushed. I’m not a narc.
On Sunday I went to see another concert. Since I’m tired of going to concerts by myself, and since I knew the neighbor MK was looking for something to do I invited him along. Mercy. That was perhaps a mistake. He talked nonstop the whole ride there. While there he continued to talk. He’s apparently one of those people that can’t be quiet. When I met him I thought he was pretty socialable. He says he’s not comfortable in social settings. Turns out he’s not socialable. He’s just lonely. There’s a difference. On the way to the show he says “don’t let me get in any trouble with any good old boys. Good ole boys don’t seem to like me”. And he told me about nearly getting into a fight at the Backbone one night. I can see why rednecks might take offense to him. He often talks too much and often says some inappropriate things, and if you didn’t know him, by the way he talked you would perhaps think he was gay. I don’t figure he’ll get into any trouble at the show we’re going to.
We’ve only been at the show 5 minutes when a guy decked out in full cowboy gear walks guy. “Look at Buffalo Bill” he says, none to quietly. “There’s Buffalo Bill”. Yeah…no wonder rednecks want to fight him.
The place we went is not very big. You have to walk past the bar to get to the dance hall. “Where is the bar?” MK asks. I tell him. “Just up there?” he says. I say yes. He waits several minutes. Then he asks again. I’m starting to get irritated. I tell him to just walk back to the door that we came in and turn right. Or just follow the people. It’s really not hard. I had no idea he was so helpless. He wants to buy me a drink, but I’m still not drinking due to the excess from Friday night. I tell him no thanks. No alcohol tonight.
“What about a shot?” he asks.
Nope. A shot is still alcohol.
“What if they had Frangelica?” he says. (MK loves Frangelica. It’s his favorite drink. He tells us all the time about how he’ll stroll up to a bar and order a double shot of Frangelica from the female bartenders. Frangelica is a girl drink. It’s like 10% alcohol. It might impress a girl if you have Frangelica in your freezer for her, but it surely won’t impress her if you order it for yourself. Even if it’s a double. A double shot of bourbon or rum or anything else might impress the female bartender. not Frangelica).
"What if they have Frangelica?" he says.
I tell him that no, even if they have Frangelica I don’t want it.
I think I actually say that ESPECIALLY if they have it, I definitely don’t want it.
He finally just goes and gets a beer for himself.
We spent the rest of our time there with MK scoping out ladies and me just hoping time would pass by quickly.
“How old do you think that lady in the red sweater is?”
I have no idea.
“Do you know which one I’m talking about?”.
Yes. I’m terrible with ages. I have no idea.
10 minutes later:
“Did you see that lady in those jeans walk by? Wow. She was solid. She’d tear you up”.
Yup.
“How old do you think she is?”
We’ve been through this before, but I have to tell him again that I’m not good with ages.
Another cowboy comes by, and MK makes more comments.
We stay at the show a tad less than I would usually, but I was ready to go so we left.
On the way home MK is telling me some story about some guy that came into his store. A “John Chang”.
“A Chinese guy I think” he says, “Chang—is that Chinese, I think that’s Chinese, is that a Chinese name?”
I have no idea, I say. It definitely sounds Asian.
(I’m so exhausted by this point).
“It doesn’t sound Vietnamese” he says. "I knew a Vietnamese guy once. i don't think it's Vietnamese. it might be Korean. I’m not sure. Korean or Chinese”.
All I know is I don’t care. It didn’t matter at all. It did not affect the outcome of the story in any way. Not a bit. The story didn’t have a point anyway. I barely made it home. Maybe I’ll just go to concerts by myself from here on out.
Monday Mary and I went and finally checked out the Alamo Drafthouse. It was pretty fun. Monday night they have $1 movies. We went to see The Best of Britcoms. Some funny British tv shows--- 2 by guys from Shaun of the Dead. It was really fun. You can order food and drinks from a waitress at the Drafthouse. That rocks. I didn’t order anything. Mary got a beer and her friend got some food. I just watched. Mary’s friend talked loudly through a good bit of the movies. She was apparently unaware of movie etiquette. I should have known.
Mary had warned me that her friend was sometimes a little “much”. I thought mary was exaggerating. She wasn’t. The friend was supposed to meet us at our cabin and then we were going to drive into Austin. Mary gave her friend directions. Much time passed, and the friend wasn’t here yet. Friend finally called. The directions were very simple. It’s hard to not get here. It’s only 1 road once you leave Austin. And the first city you get to, you turn left. Easy enough. Mary’s friend missed it. She called and said she was in Johnson City. Johnson City is WAY past the city where she needed to turn. I tell Mary to tell her to turn around and go BACK to the city, and we’ll meet her there. If we don’t do that, we’ll be late for the movie. So we head out. As we approach the city her friend calls back. “Hey, where are you?” she says. I tell her we’re on our way to the gas station. I ask where she is. She’s still a ways from our meeting point. But she’s on the other side now! She’s near a landmark I know, so I tell her to just sit there and we’ll meet her there. She says ok.
Mary and I can’t figure out what she did. It’s impossible to get from Johnson City to the landmark she was at in 15 minutes. She couldn’t have done it. And then I figure out what she has done. And I figure out that she is not the smartest.
As she was driving, just as she was barely outside of Austin there was one of those road signs that they have on highways that tell you where you are going. They especially have them when a major highway splits. You know the ones. When the road splits, the arrow to the left will tell you the name of the next major city that you will come upon if you stay on the road, and if you take the split the other way, there will be another sign that does the same thing but tells you whatever next major city you will get to if you that way. These signs are common. People understand them. The sign that mary's friend undoubtedly saw, after the road split, said “Johnson City”, because Johnson City was some 20 miles away, and in case you wanted to make sure that you were on the right road after it split, it's good to be reassured that you are going in the right direction.
Most people understand those signs. Mary’s friend thought it meant she had reached Johnson City. Even though she was still technically in Austin. And even though Johnson City was at least 30 miles away. She must have thought she had driven through a time warp. So she pulled over. I wonder who was more confused—the gas station attendant, us, or her. Holy Crap. This girl is 24. you’d think you’d have figured out things like that. Mercy. Thank goodness we just told to wait or who knows where she would have ended up. Anytime there’d be a road sign telling you which direction you were going, she’d think she was there, and would pullover. She’d never get anywhere. How does she drive outside of her own city? How does she survive in life? She told a story about wanting to move somewhere far away, but not being sure if she could live on her own. Mary tried to encourage her that she could do it. I told mary later that was a horrible idea.
Tuesday night we went to another 50 cent movie. I don’t remember if I talked about that or not. (We still don’t have internet at home. We have to go to the library. So I’ve taken to writing up my entries at home, and saving them to disk, and then uploading them at the library).
We have had no success w/ 50 cent movies. Mary has decided that maybe we have to spend the equivalent of a real movie before we see a decent one. We should be getting close.
The rest of the week was way too cold and totally worthless. We spent 2 full days huddled up inside trying to stay warm. We tore through some fire wood. At first it was cool having a fire. By the end of the second day when the house, and everything in the house (including us) smelled like smoke, we were tired of the fire in the fire place.
It finally warmed up some by Friday.
And that let us enjoy the weekend.
Mary has commandeered the remote control for the evening and the tv is stuck on Dirty Dancing.
Hot.
So I’ve decided to write.
Tough choice. It’s what I have to do though.
Patrick Swayze is always great. If it was Road House or Point Break, this wouldn’t get written today. But Dirty Dancing?
Girls love Dirty Dancing. Every single girl. Seriously. It’s true.
Every single girl loves Dirty Dancing.
So I can’t. Especially since I almost made a Dirty Dancing reference in normal conversation the other week.
It was bad. The neighbor MK was recounting a story to us. The story did not have much point, but the gist of it was that he was told there was going to be a big party at a certain cabin here on the reservation. MK had in fact invited mary and I to this party, and so we already knew that in fact the big party did not take place. But MK had to tell us the story the next day anyway. He said he was told to come over and that there would be a big party. And when he got there there was no party. Just a couple family members sitting around. But he had carried a watermelon over. He had carried a watermelon. And there was no party.
That ‘carried a watermelon’ line was a Dirty Dancing reference. When MK said it I wanted to laugh. At first I thought he was making a Dirty Dancing reference, and I thought that was funny. Then I realized he was just saying it. That was funny too, because I still thought of Dirty Dancing, and of my friends C&T who used to frequently use that line. But I’m a boy. So I wasn’t able to laugh at MK saying that he carried a watermelon. And I wasn’t able to even tell anyone about it after that fact. Until now. Ahhh….catharsis.
So today is one of the coldest TX days in recent history. It’s been all over the news and everything. It’s like winter. And it sucks. Except, that since it’s so cold and that they’re not used to it, everything shut down today. Mary and I were supposed to sub, but they cancelled school. And like little kids, we were excited when we got the news that schools were closed. It was awesome. Until we realized that that meant we were losing out on $80 for the day. Oops. We were still happy to not have to work though. The library also closed today. The post office was open, but postal trucks didn’t drive today so there was no express mail, nor did the new shipment of holiday stamps arrive, much to the dismay of the lady in front of me in line. There was nobody out on the roads. And guess what? There was no snow. Not a drop. Just really really really cold. Granted, there was some ice on the road this morning, but that was all gone by 9. Silly TX. It’s different though here when it gets cold. Since it’s usually warm, the cold is a lot more dramatic. There was a show tonight that I wanted to go see, but it just seemed to cold to go to it. Which is dumb, b/c if I were in VA, I’d go to a show in the winter. Crzy. But it feels different here in TX.
The freezing temperatures brought on another new experience for me though. For the first time in my life I built a fire. Woo hoo! I’m such a man. Lookout world! Actually, that’s not true. (the fire part, not the man part). When I was in grade school I would go to summer camp at Highland Retreat and we slept in cabins and had to build fires every morning. But I haven’t built any fires since then. And I’d never built any inside a fireplace. Until now. And now it burns burns burns. A ring of fire. It burns. Mary built the fire last night and this AM when I got up I had to get it going. To be honest, some of the embers were still hot, so it was a little easier than usual. But I did get it going. All by myself. And we’ve kept it going all day. It’s pretty fun. Fire is powerful. It burns things.
Also today we finally got a contract printed up so that I can officially become a band manager. (Not a band manager like a high school band manager, a band manager like a cool manager of a real band—like the Colonel and Elvis, or that guy that managed the Beatles, or that guy that managed other people…..shoot. I can’t think of another famous band manager. That’s ok though. They’re behind the scenes, but important). It’s possible that the band will not sign the contract, but it’s exciting to be one step closer. I think they will. I’ll report more on that later.
Since it was so cold and nasty this morning I contemplated just getting hammered. It seemed like that would be an excellent thing to do. In fact, I figured that’s what would happen. But for some reason it didn’t. I made myself 1 warm wintery drink with supper, but that was it. It’s wacky. Up until suppertime I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since Friday night. It’s been good to detox! I drank more than my fair share on Friday night anyway. Friday night was so bad that when I saw a couple kids I know the next night at a concert they said “wow. Glad to see you’re still alive”.
We didn’t have much food in the house to make supper tonight though. So I volunteered to introduce Mary to one of the delicacies that I lived off in college: frozen turkey and gravy tv dinner. Mmmm…in college I loved it. My one long time girlfriend and I used to eat it all the time. You just cook up the tv dinner and then get a piece of bread and throw some of the turkey and gravy on top it, and it’s a great open faced sandwich that didn’t cost you hardly anything. I hadn’t had one in years. There was a tv dinner in the freezer, so we decided to cook it up tonight. I was pretty excited about it. Holy crap. It took almost an hour to cook in the oven. I would have just nuked it, but that took 25 minutes too, so I just cooked it in the oven. I figured that would be better, and that the cabin could use the extra heat anyway. Mary and I played a mad game of Boggle while waiting for the turkey to cook. (I crushed her). And then the turkey was done. I had to show Mary how she was supposed to eat it. At least one of us was eager with anticipation. Holy crap. It was awful. Nothing at all like it tasted in my memory. It was horrible. Nothing good about it. Mary was pissed. I was disappointed. I couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. At first I thought it was the bread. Surely the bread must have gone bad and caused the sandwich to taste like cleaning products. But then I smelled the unused bread. It smelled fine, and I remembered that I’d had a sandwich for lunch, and that it was great. I couldn’t believe that my mind would let me down like that, but it appeared that it had. And then I saw it. I saw the box it came out of. The box looked normal. So I just bought it. The college tv dinners that I so successfully turned into gourmet open face sandwiches were typically Swanson, or Hungry Man tv dinners. The one today looked like a Swanson or a Banquet. It had a nice blue ribbon on it. Don't one of those have a blue ribbon? I think so. I was tricked. As it lay empty on the stove I read the words printed inside the blue ribbon. “On-Cor” it says. On-Cor brand. What the heck is On-Cor brand? I have no idea. But it sucks. It sucks bad.
(Son of a gun. That sandwich I had for lunch was a turkey sandwich too actually now that I think about it. A cold turkey sandwich, but a turkey sandwich nonetheless. If I’d remembered I’d already eaten a turkey sandwich today I surely wouldn’t have suggested more turkey for supper. And we could have filled our bellies with better food. Shoot).
We didn’t accomplish much else today. We rode our $2 exercise bike a handful of miles, until the smell of burning rubber started to make us nauseous. Turns out the bike wasn’t $2 only because it’s old and rusted. Also because it’s slanted. The wheel doesn’t spin cleanly. It rubs up against the tension piece. And it burns it. and burnt rubber is not the most appealing smell in the world.
Gus is refusing to pee. He says its too cold. I can’t say I blame him. He held his morning business as long as he could. He usually takes care of stuff at about 8.30. 9.30 at the latest. This morning he thankfully, for both our sakes, waited until 10.30 when it had warmed up 4 degrees. It’s now 9pm though and the Gus hasn’t been outside since. He’s hilarious. He can hold it forever. He’s been sleeping on the couch for the last couple hours. He got up to stretch about an hour ago and I told him we should go outside so that he could potty, and he hid his face and refused to go. So now he’s back up on the couch, a bundled up pug in a rug (blanket). I don’t think he’s going anywhere anytime soon. Silly Augustus.
Update: at 9.40 i tricked Gus into going outside. I had to give him food to get him off the couch. Then i took him outside. He was not happy, but he did his stuff and ran back inside.
Silly Augustus.
More exciting stories from earlier in the week later.
Stay warm
Mary and I spent the weekend after thanksgiving recovering. We slept in, and just hung out and ate lots. We got adopted by a Hispanic family, and that was pretty excellent. RM’s family was in town for thanksgiving, and they invited us over and fed us and told us stories and let us ride in their canoe. They are the nicest folks. He had already met RM’s uncle, named RM, but we hadn’t met his cousin, named RM, or his cousins son RM Jr. all of them have the same name. Haha. RM the cousin thought maybe Mary and I were on the run and hiding out in Wimberley. He’s actually not the first person that has said that to us. Guess there’s some air or mystery about us or something. When we said we were not on the run, he asked if we were military. HA! Umm…no. we are not military. Far far from it.
RM the elder---RM’s uncle is very cool. His wife is super nice. Their daughter is super nice. We had a really good time hanging out with them, and I was pretty sad to see them leave on Sunday.
That’s one of the really cool things about living out here. If we lived anywhere else at all, I’m pretty sure things like that wouldn’t happen. I’ve never really known my neighbors. Now, I know the neighbors and I know their families. And their families adopt us. It rocks.
Sunday Mary and I went to a nature park called Pedernales Falls. It was awesome. We had to buy a year pass to TX nature parks, so we’ll probably go explore some more. This one was really beautiful. We took some pictures. AND we saw an armadillo. A real one. A live one. Walking around the rocks. People told me I’d never see a live armadillo. People lied. I was so fascinated by it. We watched it for about half an hour. Mary touched it. She told me to touch it. I was scared. Mary said they’re harmless little creatures. I thought it might bite me. Mary said it wouldn’t. I was scared. I tried several times, but chickened out. After 4 or 5 unsuccessful attempts I finally summoned up enough courage to touch it—quickly. It scared me.
We showed some other people the armadillo. A lady there said armadillos are mean and will chase you.
I don’t really remember anything noteworthy happening on Monday. On Tuesday. night we went to the 50cent movie night, and hit up the Allnighter diner beforehand. We had a grand time at the Diner. We had some shots and some beer and a well drink and some half price apps. Mmmm….half price apps and cheap drinks for happy hour. I ate fried green tomatoes and chicken strips. I forgot that both of those involve ranch. It was too much ranch. Before TX there was never such a thing as too much ranch. Now, twice in 2 weeks I’ve had too much ranch. Maybe it’s my arteries crying out. I don’t know. I don’t want ranch again anytime soon though. We spent way more money at the cheap happy hour than I intended too. Then we went to see a movie. We decided to see Flight Plan. I don’t really like scary movies, but that one looked more suspenseful than outright scary. It was neither. Just plain stupid. What an awful movie. Totally preposterous and totally dumb. I wish we had walked out of this one. I don’t know what made Jodie Foster decide to do that movie. She usually makes good ones. Not this time. Awful. If you’ve been thinking about seeing this one, do not do it. Seriously. It’s ridiculous. At the end of it I laughed. Pretty sure that’s not what the director was going for, but I laughed. Another waste of 2 hours. We’re not having much luck with 50 cent movies.
Wednesday thru Friday we were called in to work at the antique store again. I was psyched about that. I love that job. Even if it doesn’t pay much. And last time, in 1 week, we didn’t come anywhere close to selling enough stuff to get the bonus. You have to sell $500 worth of stuff. We only sold about $160 the whole week. This week was different. The first day we sold over $600 of stuff. Cha-ching! $50 bonus. Rock!
Then I started thinking we could maybe sell $1000 total, and get another $50 bonus. And then we sold zero items on Thursday. Oh well. A $50 bonus was more than I could hope for. But then on Friday we ended up selling about $500 worth of stuff. More bonus. I love it. I love this job.
I also interned a bit this week w/ the music manager and took some more steps towards actually signing a contract to manage a band. That would rock. We’ll see what happens.
Also at some point this week Mary and I started really having disagreements about TX. I love it. She hates it. It’s not the best situation. Hopefully it will work out.
One night this past week we invited RM and MK over for dinner. It was a totally bizarre experience. RM came in decked out like it was 1978 and he was on his way to a disco. He was dressed all in black, and his hair was slicked back and his black shirt was unbuttoned all the way down to his navel. Seriously. He is going to kill me soon. I just know it. It was hilarious. I couldn’t quit staring at his shirt. It was totally ridiculous. And MK and RM told stories that I totally didn’t understand but sounded rather exciting. MK needs to go to Mexico for the trial of one of his friends. It’s apparently some political scandal or something. And RM is talking about going out with him to help him out. And MK says the only thing he knows is that he’s not taking any guns with him, b/c they’d blow him up if he did. And that makes me wonder if he usually carries guns when he travels. I don’t know what’s happening. RM says he is taking guns. He’s going to do like in the old days, and have guns and roses. I want to laugh when he says ‘guns and roses’, but I don’t for fear he’ll kill me. RM rants about some conspiracy and he says he knows whats up. He and MK talk about it. For at least part of their conversation I’m pretty sure that they are talking about 2 totally different things. Then MK talks about how his dad was a pretty important judge or something, and this is somehow tied to what’s going on in Mexico, and there was once some guy who talked to MK about his dad, and MK’s dad said he never knew what was up with that guy. I don’t know what’s going on. Apparently, this somehow meant that something bad was happening. I don’t know. More and more I’m just confused by MK’s and RM’s stories. I don’t know if I’m losing my attention span, or if they’re losing theirs, but their stories rarely make sense anymore. And that’s too bad. Because I’m sure they’re exciting.
And that’s about it.
I went to a concert on Friday and a concert on Saturday. Both were really fun. I drank too much on Friday since I had a ride home. It was a pretty crzy night. I didn’t drink anything on Saturday. Saturday for lunch we finally met up w/ my college friends that live out here. That was a lot of fun. I used to come visit them at least twice a year. And now that I live out here, we hadn’t seen them yet. But now we have, and hopefully we’ll see more of them.
I think I have to sub one day this week. And I have lots of concerts I want to see. And I should see if I can find any Christmas presents for anyone. And then we’re heading home for the holidays. I can’t wait to do a Cville happy hour when I get home. I might have to do 10.
Monday was a lot more lowkey.
It actually took me 20 minutes just now to figure out what we had done on Monday.
It was good too though.
I slept in the for the first time in ages, and had a laid back morning.
I went to the library for a little, then we checked out a place in town called Mima’s for lunch. It was really good. Then we came home and sat in the sun.
Mary and I were supposed to work at the antique store on Monday and Tuesday of this week, but on Sunday night the owner called and said he got back from his hunting trip early, and that we didn’t have to work.
WOO HOO! No work.
As much as we need money, and as easy as the job is, it’s inherent to celebrate when work gets cancelled. It’s like having a snow day in VA. We celebrated.
But, the owner said that we should come by and pick up our money.
That sounded good to me, so after lunch tim and I got in his convertible and cruised down to the store. We also stopped at the liquor store on the way and picked up two bottles of 1800 Tequila. If you haven’t had it, go drink it. That’s what RM made the margaritas out of. Yum. So tim got one bottle for RM, and one for us. Then we went to get paid.
Even though I knew how much we were paid per hour, I couldn’t figure it out in my head how much our actual check would be. My brain was tired. I knew that we hadn’t sold nearly enough to get our bonus, but that’s all. I wasn’t expecting very much. The owner punched in the numbers in the calculator. He asked if I accepted cash. We got over $95----each! Mary and I were rich!
It’s silly. $200 is always nice, but in my previous life it wouldn’t have been that big a deal. Now? Holy crap. I felt like a new man. Seriously. I felt like Billy Crudup in Jesus Son. I really did. I walked a little taller when I left the antique store. I was a working man, and I had money to show for it. And it was good. So we did margarita shots when we got home.
That afternoon we went and explored a place called Blue Hole. It’s apparently closed to the public now, but we went anyway. It was pretty scenic there. We took pictures. Maybe I’ll post them one day.
Then we stopped at the square for ice cream. And the ice cream was great.
We took a picture of us eating ice cream.
That evening we headed back to the square for supper.
We forgot that on Mondays everything is closed in Wimberley. Even the eateries.
Hungry and discouraged, we decided to head down to The Junction to see what food we could find. The Junction was closed to. It was starting to look like we might actually have to cook like normal people. But we decided to head down to San Marcos and see what was open. Everything was open in San Marcos. But nothing looked good. That is, nothing looked good until we found the Allnighter Diner.
Then we hit the jackpot.
Happy Hour at the Diner goes from 2-8 everyday. Everyday. For HH they have half price apps, and $1.25 beers, and $5 pitchers of Lone Star, and $2.25 well drinks, and $2 kamikaze shots. Our mouths started watering. The menu was huge. Before diving into the menu we ordered fried green tomatoes and kamikaze shots and some beer. I ate a good burger for the first time in weeks. It made me so happy. I can’t wait to go back.
Monday night we watched Eternal Sunshine.
Then we went to sleep.
On Tuesday we ate lunch at my former favorite barbeque place, The Salt Lick. It was one of the first real BBQ joints that I experienced in TX many years ago on my first visit. I loved it instantly. In more recent years I would dream about before a visit. It was that good. Sadly, the last time that I ate there before I moved here, it hurt me bad. Really really bad. And things haven’t been the same since then. We ate it the first day that we moved to Wimberley, and it wasn’t that good. We ate it one other time, and it was a little better, but nothing like it used to be. Rudy’s is where it’s at now. I thought we should take our guest there though. Salt Lick is TX. I hoped for the best. I didn’t like it at all. No more Salt Lick for me.
After the Salt Lick we went and explored a place called Blue Hole. It was pretty cool. It was technically closed to the public, but we checked it out anyway. That night Tim and I went to Cheatham Street to see Slaid Cleaves. It was really good.
Wednesday we headed out west. Tim wanted to take a road trip, so he mapped out a trip for us to Del Rio. It was pretty exciting. We went to some nature parks, saw some wild free range mountain goats, saw some really pretty water, ate at the same roadside diner twice, and were 2 miles from Mexico. I wanted to go to Mexico, but the Gus was with us, and I didn’t know what their policy was on letting pugs into the country. Gus didn’t exactly enjoy the convertible. He got pretty stressed out actually. We had to put the top up for a while. But he was a trooper.
By the time we got to the hotel many hours later, we were all pretty exhausted. We stayed at a Hampton Inn in San Antonio. Surprisingly it was much nicer than the Motel 6’s that I usually stay in. it was great. We had cable. Real cable. I hadn’t seen real cable in months. Really only 2.5 months, but it seemed like forever. Sadly there were no Real World or Surreal Life marathons on, but we did get to watch a marathon of Run’s House. Man, I loved Run DMC. RIP Jam Master Jay. Gone but not forgotten.
We drank some rum and cokes at the hotel. We watched 40 year old virgin. I laughed so hard that my face hurt. There were some really dumb parts, but there were some parts that were super funny. We also had some pizza and cheesesticks delivered from a nearby establishment. That was a mistake. The cheesesticks were without a doubt the worst cheesesticks I’ve ever had in my life. The pizza was definitely in the running for worst pizza ever. I once had a Little Caeser’s pizza from the Kmart in Cville that pretty much tasted like cardboard w/ tomato sauce and cheese. It was about the same as that. But we ate it. We were hungry.
I was so tired that I didn’t even worry about all the germs on the blanket. Normally I make sure that no part of the blankets or bedspreads touches any part of me. Only sheets are allowed to touch any part of my body. Hotels change the sheets. They don’t change the bedspreads and blankets. That usually creeps me out. Not after an all day road trip though. I just slept.
The Gus woke me up at 4am. Happy Thanksgiving. That was pretty early. And I had left his dog food out in Tim’s car. So I had to ignore Gus for 3 hours until tim got up. Poor gus. He survived though.
The hotel had a great breakfast spread. We loaded up there and napped and watched some more tv. I showered there. That was perhaps the first time since moving here that I’ve showered 2 consecutive days. I’m bohemian now.
The shower dried out my skin. I have sensitive skin.
Everything was great about the hotel except for one thing. It had really bright lights and mirrors outside the bathroom. I was brushing my teeth and noticed something shiny in my reflection. It was on my head. I put my hand on my head. Holy Crap. I turned my head so that I could see it better. Holy Crap. Gray hairs. Gray hairs everywhere. What in the world?? When did this happen? What the heck? I turn 30 and suddenly I have gray hairs everywhere. All over the place. And it freaks me out. Big time. Apparently, all the lights in the cabin are very dim. Gray hairs don’t sparkle in dim light. I had no idea There’s a billion of them there. I didn’t have a clue. I knew I had a few, and I was okay with that. My longtime hairdresser in Charlottesville even told me that gray hairs are thicker than normal hairs, so I was all for it. I need some thick hairs. But suddenly I have hundreds of them. Hundreds. And it terrifies me. I’ve only recently come to terms with my hair loss. Gray hairs? That’s something new altogether. I asked mary how long they’d been there. she said a little while. I had no idea. It was a seriously terrifying experience. I couldn’t quick looking. They were everywhere. Son of a gun. I hate it. I think being 30 made them show up. I hadn’t once felt 30. now I do. 30 is stupid. But whatever. I’ll deal with it. I’d gladly be gray instead of balding. It sucks to be both.
After I got over my new silver sides, we headed down to the River Walk. We stopped off at the Alamo. Mary was thoroughly unimpressed. Some silly looking security guard Alamo cop tried to cause trouble. Apparently you’re not supposed to bring dogs to the Alamo. He was almost running over to where we were, but I saw him out of the corner of my eye, so Gus and I just crossed the street and sat on a wall looking at the Alamo. The Alamo Cop yelled at some kids leaning on a chain. He needed a different job.
Then we headed down to the River Walk. Gus loved it. People loved Gus. Everyone wanted to touch him. We should have charged them a dollar. Then Gus got worn out. And then we were in trouble. We were out of water, and lots of the vendors were closed for Turkey Day. I had to carry Gus for a while. Its pretty embarrassing carrying a pug around a crowded pedestrian spot. But I had no choice. He was out of breath and really thirsty. We finally found an Irish Pub with outside seating. When we ordered some apps and drinks, I ordered a bowl of water for the pug. The guy said he wasn’t supposed to b/c dogs weren’t allowed, but he’d bring one anyway. He was cool.
San Antonio is apparently not a dog friendly city.
Apps and drinks were good. We left a generous tip for the dog friendly waiter and then headed to my cousins house for the Thanksgiving celebration. It was great fun. I loved it. My great uncle and aunt from OK, who are some of my favorite relatives, were there, as were another cousin of mine and her family. We told stories and listened to stories. We ate great food. It was super. I’d never hung out with these people very much since they live way far away. It was awesome to hang out with them and get to know them better. It was a blast.
And then we headed home and Tim left early the next morning.
It was great having company. And now we needed to rest.
Son of a gun.
I’m so far behind now I don’t know if I’ll be able to catch up.
But I’ll try. For the sake of the memories, I’ll try my best.
So here’s what happened, as best I can remember:
On Saturday my buddy tim showed up for his visit.
We ate a lot, and drank a lot, and saw a lot of concerts, and then he went home.
The end.
Just kidding.
He did show up on Saturday. And we hung out for a bit, and introduced tim to MK, and then headed down to San Antonio to see a concert by Alejandro Escovedo. We stopped in New Braunfels and ate at Rudys, which has quickly become my favorite BBQ joint. MMM….we stuffed our bellies full. Turkey and brisket and some pickles. Yum. Great great food. It was so good. I swear. I could eat there every day I think. After stuffing our bellies, we loaded the wonder truck back up and made our way to SA. The show started at 9, and Alejandro was expected to be on stage before 10. Tix were not available in advance. We got there just before 10. and there was a sign on the door that said “sold out”.
And sold out sucks. We drove over an hour to get there, and now it was sold out. To make things worse there were at least 3 other concerts that night that would have been good, and were closer. This was not making me happy. Tim ignored the sign and went on inside. The guy told him it was sold out. Tim did some smooth talking, and just like that, we were in. Score!! And it was really good. Mary got carded at the bar though, and didn’t have her ID. She tried to order a wine and a diet coke. So she just got the soda. But no problem. I was behind her in line. When I stepped up to the counter I ordered a wine and Lone Star. And I wasn’t even carded. I’m so old. The show was good. Mary faded about halfway thru and sat in a booth. We got home around 1.30 or so. And Saturday came to an end.
Sunday was a big day. Full of excitement. We started out the day by driving thru the hill country a bit. Tim had rented a convertible for his trip out here, so we were anxious to take the car out on the road. It was a sunny day and the views were perfect. I think we took some cool pictures. Maybe one day we’ll figure out how to upload more pics. Driving back we passed by the infamous Devil’s Backbone Tavern.
‘There’s the Devil’s Backbone Tavern” I said.
Tim slammed on the brakes and jerked the car around to the right just in time to get the car into the Backbone’s parking lot.
‘Guess we’re going in there now huh’ I say.
It’s not yet noon, but we can drink beer anytime we want.
There are more cars in the parking lot than usual. I have been told that this is a “day bar”.
We go into the tavern just in front of 3 bikers.
There is a sign out front that says “Help Wanted”.
The time is 11.50.
“I can’t serve you beer for 10 more minutes” say the bartender lady.
Apparently we can’t drink any time we want.
I remember now that TX has laws about drinking beer before 12 on Sunday.
So we wait.
And suddenly we are like the hardcore regulars—the ones that line up waiting for the door to open. We’re so cool.
We check out the jukebox and the back room which I want to turn into a TX dancehall. The bartender says that her watch says 12 even thought the clock on the wall says 11.57.
We only have to wait 7 minutes.
Life is good.
Tim is hungry so he asks if they serve any food.
I tell him I don’t think so.
He asks the bartender and she says that they have chips.
We have several beers and some corn chips.
We play 2 games of TX shuffleboard.
Midway through the second game I decide that I should apply for a job here.
I ask if they are actually hiring, or if it’s an old sign.
She says yeah, they’re just needing people to work a couple shifts here and there. Sounds good to me. They have nothing on draft, and no food. Just cans or bottles and chips. Fun. And I’d have enough stories to last a life time. I have to apply.
I ask if they hire only gals, or guys and gals. She says they hire anybody.
I don’t really believe her, but I get an application anyway.
Easiest application I’ve ever seen.
1 page. Just the front. Not even front and back like those 1 page pink and white applications. It doesn’t even ask about convictions.
Basically it asks for my name and address and most recent job and if I have bar experience. Unfortunately I don’t. I have no idea what else on the application could make one applicant more desirable then another. I should have lied and said I worked at a bar in college. But I didn’t. Mary applies to. If either of us get I imagine it will be her. And then I’ll be mad. I want that job. It’s a been over a week now and we still haven’t heard anything. I want to go up there and hang out. But it’s weird---most jobs if you are trying to get them, you don’t go and drink beer in front of your prospective employer. It feels weird to go do that here. But I want the job. Wish me luck.
**(i realize now that i already told the job story. but i typed it all out again so i'm leaving it here. a couple details are a little different. sorry for the duplication though).
We left the Backbone and decided we needed some real food, so we hit up Inoz brew and chew. Mmm…cheesy fries. For the first time ever though, I couldn’t finish cheesy fries. It was too much ranch. The ranch hurt my tummy. So sad.
After Inoz we came home to rest. It was only 2pm, and we already done more than mary I usually do in 2 full days. But we had lots more to do. Chicken Shit Sunday was calling.
Chicken Shit Sundays is truly one of the funnest experiences one can have. Every Sunday at a little bar called Ginny’s Little Longhorn Saloon, they have an event called Chicken Shit Sundays. From 4-8 they have great music, usually by awesome Dale Watson, and they have free chili dogs, and they have chicken shit bingo. It should actually be called chicken shit lottery or chicken shit bingo, but I don’t argue with them. In the middle of this bar, which is not by any means a large bar, there is a giant chicken coop. And on the floor of the coop are numbers. Approximately 50 or so. And you buy a number for $2, and if the chicken shits on your number you win $100. I can’t really describe how fun it is. And it’s free to get into Ginnys, and you can bring your own liquor. There is NOTHING not to like about the place.
So we get there and meet some other friends there too.
It is packed out.
We leave our bourbon in the car.
We get a Lone Star and a chili dog instantly.
Free chili dogs taste good.
Even if they are really really close to the chicken coop.
The place is so full you can hardly move.
So we stand right next to the chili dogs.
I need another fun.
Free chili dogs taste good.
One of the country ladies that works there comes by soliciting donations for the band. I don’t often tip bands. For one thing, I don’t often like most bands, and for another thing, I’m totally not rollin in the dough anymore. But Dale is good. Actually Dale is great. I always tip for Dale. So I reach into my pocket for a couple dollars. My hands are full though, so the redneck lady offers to hold my plate for me. She’ll hold the plate if it means the band gets more money. That’s what I figure at least. Partially true perhaps, but the lady is also apparently hungry. She takes a bite of my chili dog before giving me back my plate.
“thanks honey” she says.
No problem. I say, laughing.
And I finish eating my chili dog.
Now, I’m usually a bit of a germophobe
If some random person would eat some food off of my plate, I would almost certainly not finish eating it—especially if it were free.
I don’t know if it’s my new laid back lifestyle, or if Ginny’s just brings out the best in me, but I didn’t even think about. It seemed like maybe rednecky waitresses routinely eat chili dogs off of other people’s plates.
So I ate it.
I was hungry.
She was too apparently.
It’s all good at Ginnys.
We didn’t win the Chicken Shit Bingo.
I’ve never won.
One girl there that was friends with our friends said she won the first time she ever played. So she never played anymore.
One night I was there and this old cowboy won.
They usually interview the winner a couple minutes after they win.
When they interviewed the cowboy they asked him what he was going to do with the money. He said he was giving it all back to Ginny—free drinks for everyone.
There was wild applause.
The old cowboy was awesome.
I wish I could win and do that.
But if I won, I’d keep the money. I don’t work much.
We didn’t stick around to find out what the winner planned to do w/ the money this time.
Our friends wanted to roll to another bar, so we did.
I kinda wish we had stayed at Chicken Shit, but it was really really packed there so I didn’t mind.
We drank at the other bar, and then came back home.
At home we decided to go see RM and see if he would make us some of his famous margaritas. He did. They were awesome. We were drunk.
He made shrimp cocktails for us.
He also fired up the grill. At 8pm.
We drank all the margaritas, and some beer, and just when we were about ready to leave, he pulled the food off the grill---chicken and beef strips and sausage.
Holy crap.
Good stuff.
Those margaritas though were so good though. Best I’ve ever had. We drank lots.
RM told insane stories that night. I was so tired and drunk that I couldn’t even follow them. Tim passed out on the couch w/ the Deuce for a bit. I started to fall asleep on the other couch. I decided it was time to go home.
The day was full of fun.
One of the great days.
We lived it up as best we could.
And we were exhausted so we went to sleep.
On Friday---not friday from 3 days ago, but riday from many days ago (the friday after my parents left) mary and i had to go to work at the antique store. and it was fine and fun and good.
afterwards though, we were ready to party.
it had been a long week w/ my parents being here, and it was now the weekend, and for once the weekend was actually a "weekend" b/c we had worked all week.
so we wanted to drink.
so we did.
i made myself a nice tall screwdriver right after work.
mmm...yum. vodka and OJ. he takes a whiskey drink. he takes a lager drink. it'd been a while since i'd had some vodka.
since we ate out all week mary decided we should eat in that night.
and try to be somewhat healthy.
so she decided to make beans and rice.
beans and rice sounded fine to me.
i like 'em pretty good. mary flavors them up a bit. pretty tasty.
now don't get wrong, i wouldn't want to eat them everyday. be serious. it's not like they're potatoes or something. but i can eat beans and rice from time to time. especially since they're so cheap.
i start drinking my screwdriver.
mary puts some spices and ingredients into the beans and rice.
beans and rice gets done.
mary samples it.
"yikes" she exclaims. "it's a little spicy".
good i say.
i like spicy.
things that mary typically thinks are too hot, i usually like.
so i was excited for the beans and rice.
i stuffed a spoonful into my mouth.
ahh... a nice little bit of heat there.
"pretty good" i say.
and i shovel another spoonful down my throat.
and then my throat catches on fire.
WOOOOO. there's the heat. mary wasn't kidding.
hot. it's hot. no 2 ways around it.
hot. really really hot.
but it's good.
so i keep eating.
i'm washing it down w/ my screwdriver, trying to quench the fire.
my mouth is on fire. my lips are burning. my head is sweating profusely.
(side note: in the last couple of years my head has really begun to sweat when i eat spicy things. not just my forehead--the top of my head. soaking wet. it's sort of hilarious but sort of embarrassing. it doesn't even have to always be THAT spicy. sometimes barbecue chips will do it. that's just silly. chips only do it a little. really spice really does it)
i keep eating.
i open up a beer.
maybe the beer will work better than the screwdriver to put out the fire.
i alternate between beer and screwdriver. (everyone who likes spicy foods should know that water and soda do not quench the fire. they just make it worse. alcohol sometimes helps. milk supposedly helps, but milk would make me throw up)
i keep eating.
my mouth keeps burning.
i finish 1 screwdriver and get another. i finish the beer in record time and get another.
everything above my neck is on fire.
i'm blowing heat out of my mouth.
i touch the top of my head with the palm of my hand.
my hand is soaking wet. no kidding. soaking wet.
mary says its gross.
it's mary's fault.
the top of my head is like a small wading pool, and the resilient hairs on the top of my head-- the ones that haven't joined the growing army of hairs that have been leaving the top of my head in mass numbers in recent years-- they're soaked, like poor little kids who's floatation devices failed them.
it's not a pretty site.
mary gives up on the food.
she can't finish.
i'm determined.
i succeed.
but there is a cost.
that cost will be paid later.
MK, the neighbor stops by.
we offer him a beer and some rice and beans.
we warn him it's hot.
that's okay, he says.
he says he like spicy things.
we scoop him a bowl of fire as he tells us about some restaurant he went to one time and how he was the only person eating their most spicy speciality.
MK finishes the story and takes a bite.
MK announces it's a little hot.
MK takes another bite--this one followed by a big sip of beer.
MK is pretty quiet over the next couple minutes as he alternates between the food and beer.
MK announces he can't eat anymore and has to go home.
"take some with you" we say.
MK leaves 3/4 of the beans and rice still in his bowl.
the beans and rice are seriously seriously hot.
my mouth burns for the rest of the night.
by this time it's about time for mary and i to roll out and head to the dollar theater in san marcos.
we are going to see The Forty Year old virgin.
we are excited about this.
mary drives, b/c i'm starting to have a really good buzz.
i drink something else along the way.
we get to the movie.
the sound is terrible.
i can't hear anything.
i go to notify someone.
they say the sound is messed up and they can't fix it.
i go back.
i can't hear anything they are saying.
we get up and notify the manager that it's unwatchable.
she understands. she says she can give us our money back or we can see 1 of the other movies.
our 2 movie options are "into the blue", so terrible action movie with Jessica Alba and Paul Walker from fast and the furious, or "just like heaven" with reese witherspoon and mark ruffalo.
i don't know anything about that one, but i really like mark ruffalo, and i used to think reese witherspoon was hot.
we don't feel like going home since we just came into town.
mary is afraid that the blue movie scary. i dont' think it is, but i'm sure it will suck.
we decide to try out just like heaven.
and that, that was a mistake.
really really bad.
at least i'm pretty sure it was.
at least the experience was.
i tried to watch it.
the acting was ridiculous.
at some point i gave up trying to focus.
the massive amounts of vodka i had consumed started to take control.
i took a little nap in the theater and missed the middle 40 minutes of the movie.
i woke up and was dismayed to find out that the movie wasn't over yet.
i told mary we should leave.
she didn't want to.
she had to see what happened.
like her life would somehow be less complete if she didnt' know what happened, or that her life would be more fulfilled if she did find out.
so i sulked.
and then i started to feel sick.
and then i pleaded with her again to go.
again she said no.
she wanted to wait til the end.
i've known other people like this too.
no matter how terrible a movie is, they have to see how it ends.
i'm not one of those people.
i turn the thing off, or i walk out.
(especially if i'm drunk on vodka)
it's not like i do great things with my time, but i certainly have better things to do that waste an additional 30 minutes of my life with a terrible movie.
anything i could be doing would be better than being there.
but i'm stuck.
the movie ends.
it was stupid.
even in my altered state i could tell it was stupid.
haha.
mary was mad at me.
i hadn't realized at the time that i had drank too much vodka.
the spicy beans and rice is what did me in.
it was mary's fault.
Spicy Beans brought out the Vodka Hutch.
Vodka Hutch is a different creation. one day when things are slow i'll tell you more about him.
Vodka Hutch hasn't been around in a while.
we go home.
we get home at 9.30.
and Vodka Hutch is out for the night.
Working.
haha.
i don't write much about working in TX.
guess that's because i don't work much in TX.
and that means life is grand.
but of course, no work means no money.
so mary and i are trying to make a little money.
and so far it's been pretty fun.
one of my goals of moving out to TX was to get a job in the music business.
it's slowly coming along.
it looks like i might, finally, this week become co-manager of a band in town.
that would be most excellent.
it wouldn't pay very much, but it would pay.
and every little bit helps, and the experience would be great to have.
i also decided that i wanted to learn how to run the soundboard at music clubs.
it seemed like a fun enough job.
and, unlike being a bartender in a club, as the sound guy, you'd actually get to listen to the music while working.
you'd be getting paid to listen to music.
sounds good to me.
so i went to a pretty cool club very close by, and got drunk enough one evening to ask the owner if i could come learn sound.
surprisingly he was very receptive to the idea.
he told me there was one guy that worked there, and he was the guy i needed to talk to, and that he would help me out.
but he couldn't tell me when this guy would be working next.
but he said i could come observe any time this guy was working and that he'd show me the ropes.
well, a week or so later this guy was there.
he told me to come on out one night.
so i did.
and it was terrible.
so so terrible.
i hated it.
the guy i was supposed to learn from is the biggest
electronics expert nerd/ name droppin guy ever.
terrible.
he didn't teach me anything.
just talked about himself.
and all the famous people he knew.
he was stupid.
it was clear i wasn't going to learn anything.
and i'd been fighting off a cold.
so i left.
just walked out.
didnt' tell anyone goodbye.
i just left.
i don't imagine anyone cared.
haha.
pretty stupid, but oh well.
it was mighty clear it wasn't going to go anywhere.
dreams fade and hopes die hard.
maybe somewhere else i can learn it.
but then again maybe not.
seems like it might be some weird electronic audiophile subculture that does sound.
i want no part of that.
losers.
so instead i work at an antique store.
and the antique store is awesome, but only employs us occasionally.
but it rocks.
the store doesn't lock.
you just go in and open up the garage door and turn on the lights and turn on the 'open' sign and you're in business.
and then you sit there for 3.5 hours waiting for someone to come in.
sometimes a couple people come in.
sometimes no one comes in.
on 1 shift i had 1 person come in.
on another shift i had zero persons come in.
tough job.
i sit there and read a book.
or watch a movie on the portable dvd player.
mary works on stained glass projects and reads and watches movies.
the other day we had a little picnic in the store when we 'changed shifts' at 1pm.
i brought a lunch out for mary and i.
she wanted beer w/ her lunch.
so i brought her 1. and 1 for me.
we ate lunch in the store.
we drank our beer with lunch.
i was getting paid to drink beer.
best job ever.
it's so funny working there.
occasionally people come.
sometimes they ask questions.
i never know the answers.
the owner requested that we ask people if they're looking for anything in particular.
so i usually do.
and they usually say no.
because when they do say yes, i often have no idea what the item is that they're looking for, or if indeed we have an item like that.
but people don't usually come in.
and i just sit. and it's nice.
but now it's over.
at least for the time being.
the owner got back from his hunting trip and no longer needs us.
so yesterday we were riding around on the Devil's Backbone and passed by the Devil's Backbone Tavern. my buddy Tim is here visiting, and he's always wanted to go the Devil's Backbone Tavern since hearing it in the Todd Snider song. so when we passed it, and i pointed it out, he slapped on the brakes, and whipped it into the parking lot.
he wanted to go in.
i'm always up for going in to the Devil's Backbone Tavern.
so we went in.
"we can't serve you beer for 5 minutes" the bartender said.
it was only 11.55.
that's early for beer.
on sundays TX says you can't have beer until 12.
well, i guess you can have it if you already have some, but you can't buy it in a store or bar until noon.
so we waited.
she only made us wait 3 minutes.
nice lady.
AND, outside, on the 'billboard' was a help wanted sign.
so i asked her if they were really hiring or if it was an old sign.
she said that yup, they were hiring.
just for a couple shifts a week.
sounded perfect to me.
i asked her if they hired guys, or only gals.
she said they hired both.
so she gave me an application.
i filled it out.
easiest application ever. 1 page. not even front and back. it basically asked your name and address and stuff. and your last job. and if you have bar experience. that's it.
mercy.
if i get that job it will be so awesome.
all they serve is beer there.
just beer.
and nothing on tap.
all cans or bottles.
and no food except chips.
cans, bottles, and chips.
i think i can handle that.
and can you imagine the stories that i'll have to tell?
that'd be the best ever i think.
mary applied too.
hopefully at least of us gets it.
hopefully it's me.
or both of us.
i'm a hard worker.
So my parents were scheduled to come in on Saturday afternoon. That meant friday was the last day that we could really party it up.
Luckily for us, there was a party at the rio bonito.
Our friend AN who we met several weeks ago---the rich lady from Houston---she was in town, as was her friend LE.
mary and i had been out earlier in the evening and when we came home we heard the commotion. AN, LE, and MK and RM were all partying. by the time we got there everyone was loaded. mary and i tried our best to catch up, but we never did. mercy. LE was totally lit. MK took her for a ride in his monster truck. LE was apparently totally embarrassed. (she's a total rich socialite as well).
AN was pretty obnoxious that night. all she wanted to talk about was how much $$ she had. apparently her boyfriend has a ranch w/ 200 acres. that's a lot of acres. and she had to prepare for her trip to conneticut, and buy all her kids a whole new winter wardrobe. and on and on an and on.
it was pretty obnoxious.
sad part is, at one point while she was in the kitchen, RM told me that she likes to put on that she's loaded but that she actually doesn't have any $$ at all. it's all her boyfriends.
sucks to try to be someone you're not.
RM told some totally insane stories that night. he said he pulled out his own wisdom tooth. it had been hurting him, and he built some contraption that he used to just pull it out. umm..ouch.
we asked if he just pulled it straight out.
oh no, he said. you have to wiggle it first.
ouch.
then he talked about all the times he has had to stitch himself up.
and how one time he just got some dissolving stiches, and stitched up a major gash.
we wanted to know how he happened to have dissolving stitches.
he said he has everything.
apparently he used to be part of a militant organization.
they were called the brown berets. brown for some reason i forget, and because they were hispanic and had brown skin. a double entendre.
i didn't really understand all of his story about the brown berets.
he said the FBI had a file on him.
actually he said they had lots of files on him.
i don't know.
but anyway, since he was in the brown berets he always had lots of stuff he needed--like dissolving stiches and ether and who knows what else.
i swear.
i need to write a book on this guy.
at least part of it would be factual, i'm sure.
the night was pretty fun, but i don't remember much else about it.
so then we went to bed, and prepared for my parents to arrive.
mercy.
i truly was looking fwd to seeing my parents.
i had no idea how stressful their visit would be.
but we survived.
and it was good to see them.
next time though, we'll get them a hotel. the cabin was a little cramped with everyone here.
so on their first night in town MK was having a "major" party for his birthday. he was excited to meet my parents. he wanted them to come. i told him my parents were mennonites and didn't even like alcohol. (there are often things more potent than alcohol present at MK's parties).
MK said he would be on his best behavior.
MK said he'd be like Eddie Haskell.
that made me laugh. and scared me. i could truly see MK being an Eddie Haskell.
so the party had started by the time we got back from supper.
it was still early and i thought it'd be a good time to take my parents over.
but then i heard a lot of coughing coming from the back room.
often, the coughing is a sign of something going on that my parents might not approve of.
(coughing, incense, and late night home improvement projects are all telltale signs).
so we didn't go over yet.
i warned my parents.
they wanted to go.
i didn't know when would be a 'safe' time to take them over.
then there was a knock on the door.
it was MK.
he said that it would be a really good time to come over.
he said there was going to be music and it would be lowkey.
so we did.
and it was.
and it was ok.
but eddie haskell he was not.
my parents had only been there 4 minutes and he already forgot.
he was telling some story--very loudly--- about one time when he was high.
oh well.
it was a totally bizarro party.
the 72 year old grandma that just moved to the reservation was there. along w/ 2 or 3 of her grandkids. and her daughter, who is most likely MR was there. and there was an hispanic guy, and the musician and his wife. and my parents. that was it at first. i talked to the musician. he said he'd been playing music for over 40 years. he said he didn't like to play covers. he said he didn't like to play in public, but was doing it for MK's birthday. he said he used to play out but 2 times that he did he got accosted by drunks both times.
his wife didn't talk much.
she just sat there.
and she didn't drink.
too bad for her.
i had 3 or 4 beers while my parents were there.
i was hoping they would leave soon.
they didn't.
they loved socializing.
they talked to everybody.
MK's father in law, how is the same age as him, showed up.
i always like when GR shows up. he makes me laugh.
today he had MK's 2 kids with him. and he had a lady friend w/ him.
the lady friend, we had been told my MK, was GR's longtime on again off again girlfriend.
they had a tumultous relationship, but MK said that the only times he ever sees GR truly happy are when she's around, and that he dresses better, eats better, sleeps better when she's around.
but then GR gets tired of her and leaves her again.
so GR showed up, and it was apparently true.
GR was dressed as nice as i'd ever seen him dressed.
and now there were more kids.
and at some point GR's youngest daughter showed up.
she's only 14.
that means that MK has a 14 year old sister in law.
that took me a long time to comprehend.
at some point the musician started playing.
turns out he only plays instrumental songs.
no wonder he was accosted by drunks in bars.
he was a really good guitar player.
drunk rednecks don't usually want to hear instrumental songs though.
the drunk redneck grandma at the party didn't.
"do you sing any" she asked in the middle of the song.
he said he used to but years of cigarrette smoke ruined his voice.
she asked the same thing an hour or so later in the middle of song.
sucks to be accosted by drunks.
i felt bad for the guy.
he clearly didn't get out much.
and people didn't seem too into his music.
but he seemed thrilled to get to play it, so that's good.
at some point mary and i took my parents back home.
then we came back to the party.
things started getting wilder.
i got to drink a couple more beers without feeling like my parents would be worried.
as it got later someone was trying to convince GR's lady friend to dance on the table.
she said she wasn't near drunk enough.
but she grinded w/ GR a bit.
she called him "Daddy".
she said she'd dance for Daddy anytime.
but not on the table.
but she pulled out a couple quick Dirty Dancing moves.
it was kind of scary.
you know how sometimes women over the age of 50 develop a really nice weird pouch?
you know what i'm talking about. it's not really they're stomach, it's sort of below it, and when they wear jeans high enough, there's the pouch just sticking out?
yeah.
she had a big pouch.
pouches scare me.
but she danced it up anyway.
but not on the table.
mary and i finally went home.
turned out we just barely missed the highlight of the party.
according to MK, soon after we left, GR's lady friend did get up on the table and do a dance.
apparently she did get drunk enough.
the dance was pretty risque i think.
mary asked MK if it was good.
MK said it was, "if you like abstract art"
sunday we all went to a sunday brunch at Threadgills w/ some free music. it was good.
i ate lots.
when we came back home MK invited over for leftovers.
we went over.
we ate lots more.
there were more crzy people.
there were more stories.
i drank 2 beers.
then more people showed up---RM's relatives.
they were really nice.
we went over to RM's house.
we heard more stories.
apparently one night RM was driving his golf cart home and he was drunk.
and as i've said before, the golf cart doesn't have headlights.
and RM slapped into a tree.
and the Deuce flew out of the cart, into the night.
poor Deuce.
no wonder he runs in front of the cart now.
RM's uncle was there.
he was a former narcotics officer.
he was pretty cool.
my mom talked w/ RM's aunt all night.
my parents love to socialize.
and then it was monday.
and monday mary and i had to work at the antique shop.
we split it up. i worked the AM, and mary the PM.
my dad came along w/ me.
he used the time to express, in his own way, his concerns that i was an alcoholic.
out of nowhere he asked "do you drink everyday?"
no, i said with disdain.
"that's good" he said.
i drink whenever i want to i said.
sheesh
his comment was sparked by the fact that he saw me drink 2 days in a row. a total of 5 beers.
lookout!
mercy.
hope he never sees me at a real party.
he'd have to have an intervention for me.
not much else happened during the week.
after the first day at the antique shop, mary would work mornings and i would work the afternoon.
it's the easiest job ever.
you just sit there.
and that's it.
mary figured out a good system.
after my parents left, we got it down pat.
we bring the portable dvd player w/ us, and a book.
and one day we even had a beer at work.
getting paid to watch movies and drink beer.
best job ever.
i'm such an alcoholic.
i also subbed one day last week.
5th grade.
mercy.
they were hyper.
it wasn't so fun.
5th grade girls love me.
6th grade girls too actually.
this one girl in my class came up while i was at my desk and leaned on my shoulder.
i didn't know what to do.
it clearly wasn't appropriate, but i didn't want to make her feel bad.
so i just got up from the desk and walked around.
i felt bad for her anyway.
the first time i subbed her class she told me that she had to go to a different class. she didnt' have the same assignments.
she seemed really intelligent.
i thought she meant a gifted class.
I was in Quest you know.
hard to believe, but i was. (that's what the gifted program was called in charlottesville).
Quest.
I was a quest kid.
guess that's why i'm so smart.
don't forget it.
so i thought she was in quest.
one day 2 weeks ago mary had to sub and she subbed for a 'content mastery' class. we didn't know what that meant. turns out its the kids that need extra help.
turns out that was the class the little girl had to go to.
i felt bad.
but i liked the content mastery class.
seems like most of the really hyper kids have to go there.
and that makes it easier.
but then the second class i had that day had 8 kids that were supposed to go to content mastery.
i sent them.
turns out content mastery was closed.
that sucked.
all the hyper kids still in the room.
i actually had to teach some on thursday though.
that was kind of silly. reading to the kids and teaching them about prime #'s and stuff.
good times.
i also taught a health lesson and read to the kids about healthy eating options.
apparently potato chips and beer are not healthy.
that was a direct example.
no kidding.
it said "luis' uncle likes to eat a lot of potato chips and drink lots of beer. that's not healthy".
dang it.
if only they had taught me that in elementary school.
i don't think they were even allowed to say beer when we were in elementary school.
but i don't know.
oh--- did i mention, that to start out the day they come on the intercom and you do the pledge of allegiance. all the kids stand and face the flag, and put their hand over their chest, and recite the words together.
i don't think i ever did that when i was a kid either.
i knew most of the words though.
i'm smart you know.
but then that got done, and then they said, "and now, the Texas pledge".
what?
the TX pledge?
who made that up.
it's awesome.
i don't remember exactly how it went.
something about how awesome TX is, and that they'll always worship TX, and always strive to live up to TX standards, and how awesome TX is.
what in the world.
only in TX.
i swear.
TX is awesome.
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