Sitting here listening to some Brutal Knights after work while nursing a glass of Pepsi. All day, all I wanted was a Pepsi. I’m writing this up using Open Office Writer instead of doing it on WordPress. Of course, it will eventually wind up there after a copy and paste and edit. But my internoodle connection is so sketchy I can’t even work on drafts online. Well, I could, if I timed everything just so and started writing immediately after I connected and finished up before the signal reset. But what always happens is I’ll be writing and the signal will go out and I won’t notice until I’m done…and then it’ll turn out being a 500 word post that only got auto saved by WP halfway through the second paragraph. It gets a bit frustrating.
Anyhow. Enough with that. Work was pretty busy today. Not overwhelming busy, but we did about 40 dinners spaced enough that there was always something to do. My boss, chef B., and his eldest son, B. jr. cooked tonight. I guess somehow they have the idea that I’m not dumb enough for a dishwasher or something. Towards the end of the evening B. jr was trying to bust on me about my vocabulary, because I tend to drop 50 cent words into my sentences. I’ve gone through this with them before, I just say I learned all sorts of words from reading lots of books in prison. Of course I didn’t say I have a thing for words because writing is my hobby. And certainly I wouldn’t say it’s my passion lest they call me a “homo” for saying something like that. At any rate, B. jr. was goofing on my vernacular and then the elder B. says, “Why don’t you go to college, become a professor or something”. I told him I already went to college breifly. He asked me for what. I told him I used to have ideas about being a social worker, but then I got more interested in heroin. He told me I should go back and become a drug and alcohol counselor, it’s like social work kinda, he says and “you already have experience”. That I do. At least with the drug and alcohol part.
It’s just funny how things happen. I mean, last night I was writing about how I obviously can’t do the work I’m doing now forever. I mean, I really like my job even though it’s pretty near the antithesis of a glamorous occupation. I generally like the people I work with, and fuck-I get fed awesome food six nights a week. The money is pretty good, like, I get by (though there is a marked difference between getting by and getting over). But I’m turning forty years old in a couple of months. I’m thinking of where I want to be when I’m forty-five, and the past couple of years I’ve done this work as a means of survival. I haven’t been pursuing anything better, or more suited to my aspirations. This was not part of the initial plan I had when I got out of the joint. This was far from what I hoped for when I promised a good life for my wife and the kids. I can’t even afford a car for fucks sake.
But I dug myself into a big fucking rut when I started drinking all the time after years of abstinence. When you’re piss drunk all the fucking time the aspirations for anything beyond the next drunk kind of go out the window.
Now though, I’m like…well, asshole, you stopped drinking so get fucking motivated and DO SOMETHING to move forward.
So it looks like that is what I have to do. I have to get a new plan together and start taking steps towards actualizing it. I dunno, maybe I should start reading some of those motivational blogs or something for starters.
- If the world is going to blow up next week make sure you move to this part of the country because it won’t happen here for another fifteen years. I moved out here from Seattle in 94 and experienced genuine culture dissonance. I thought the longer I lived out here the more some of the backwardness would stop bugging me. In many ways it has, but other times I’m still pretty shocked. I’m sure I’ll write more about this in the future.
- I heard Lil’ Wayne is dead. Apparently these are frequent rumors. I guess some disgruntled crust-punks must have gotten to Mr. Lil’ over the photos of him wearing an Anti-Cimex patch in a photo shoot he did a few months back for Interview magazine. Well, whether he’s dead or not, my teenage nephew thinks he’s dead and apparently cried when he heard the news. That’s pretty gangsta.
- Last night I had a tab up with a penguin webcam going while I was listening to Small Craft on a Milk Sea by Brian Eno. The resulting audio mashup of penguin squawks and tripped out ambient music put me in contact with the spirit world. Ok, it didn’t. But every time I see or hear a penguin it makes me want to reinstall Linux. Then again, ten minutes using Windows and I’m ready to reinstall Linux.
- Ok, so tonight I’m just going to find some video to post. This has been so lengthy I’ve listened to a few different bands. I guess I’ll tack up something by Star Fucking Hipsters. Odd Papa from the rad Cleveland blog Blakow! and my old high school buddy John both had good things to say about this band. They were right.