I've really behind on entries, I know, but in my defense I've been busy. Exciting stuff. Don't expect too much from tonight's entry, either. I worked today and yesterday -I've made quite a bit of cash recently, in fact- on Friday I visited Ann and Alyssa in Marine, and on Thursday I won at poker.

There's a more detailed entry for all this, on my computer, but it's really not done and for now, this is all I feel like writing. And that's just not going to happen tonight. It's been a hectic/swinging/interesting past few days, though, just for the record.

Another sporadic update… coming soon. This is filler. Ignore this.

Work work work… not much to report. I think I delivered to the kids from Kids tonight.

Well, later.

Looked up milquetoast, at Graham's behest. I guess that's what I get for not joining in… well, whatever. Hah.

The new Outer Limits isn't as good as I'd hoped. Maybe the new Twilight Zone (on… UPN…) will meet my high hopes, but this is probably just a bad omen. They just stole something from a book I haven't read, and now they're referencing a previous episode (and neglecting details of that episode).

Anyways, tonight we hung out at Graham's, unable to gather enough momentum to get out of the basement. As B/4, it's still better than being at home, so I can't complain. We all do, but can't, really.

Night.

Played poker at Jon's last night. I learned a valuable lesson or two about life, and, more importantly, I learned a valuable lesson about how much a beginner should bet in a high-stakes game. I was the first to go out, losing my original $10 but buying back in with $2 for a spectacular short-lived comeback. All in all, I lost twelve expendable bucks, which is a pretty good price for a night of entertainment and comparison to Adam.

I then went home and beat Warcraft III.

I… am… free! That game just wasn't entertaining at all, you see, but pretty addictive, and it's nice to know that the Burning Legion has been forever driven from Kalimdor. The plot was horrible, and, after reading the backstory in the instruction manual, I can assure you that the backstory is even worse.

Later.

The real battle is just extremism vs moderatism
-Jon Stewart

Ann Coulter was on The Daily Show tonight. As intelligent as Coulter is, she's also very crazy, but Jon Stewart handled her perfectly —he didn't patronize, but he got her to made some humorous assertions like "there are a lot of bad republicans, but there are no good democrats" while at the same time making brilliant points like the one above.

I watched all of this at Jenna's with Chris Lauer and my brother's childhood friend Mark. I realize now that, while watching t.v. with other people is entertaining, there's little difference between that and sitting at home and watching the same thing. It's not really socializing, it's just sitting around in a different place. Still, it's preferable.

I want to be the guy on the infomercials who has trouble with a simple task. Making pancakes in a regular pan is so messy and frustrating! On a related note, I saw a commercial for Darrin's Dance Grove tonight that claimed it's 'not available in stores'. That's a cold-hearted lie.

We also watched South Park —as amusing as ever— and Crank Yankers, which was horrible horrible horrible. I left home early to play Warcraft III, so all in all, it was a productive night for me. Soon I will be done with that boring and addictive game, and I can get back to reading. So many books… but I have time now, all the time I need!

Twilight Zone forever. Later all.

Saw Reign of Fire last night with Jenna and--unbeknownst to me--Adam. I was disappointed.

The dragons eat ash? Wah? Then why do they use humans as bait? Why do they eat their own kind? Why would they hang around cities -wouldn't they all be down in the rainforest, burning it to the ground? How did they spray nitro-napalm out of their mouths without burning themselves? Are they somehow fire retardent?

And most importantly of all: why do the helicopters of the not-too-distant future have a seemingly unlimited fuel supply?

But, all in all, it was amusing.

Those were Mikey's cookies, Bud.

The world's largest cell phone is no more; now my phone is just as compact as the average handy… disregard the 'don't call me on it' thing.

I'm frustrated, but I'm getting over it, some of it.

They made me go to church.

It's my right, as a confirmed Catholic, to not go to church. My confirmation was a public affirmation of my ability to make my own religious decisions. Any priest in the world would agree. I said as much (an overblown speech, I know) and my dad agreed, but said he didn't want to argue, and that I was going to church. They threatened to take my van away if I didn't go, so I went.

I took out my rage on my mom when I got home; I'll never get an apology from my parents -they think that what they did is right- but it still wasn't fair to be as rude to my mom as I was… I'm used to arguing with my dad, I guess.

Anyways, I was upset already, by the time I got home, because, while work is satisfying and easy, I managed to screw up today; I got lost for about an hour, trying to find some house in a part of town I'd never seen, and after work I managed to destroy my cell phone. Like my Giovanni's Pizza sign, it was still on top of the car when I drove away. Don't call me on it until I get a replacement.

Ugh.

Well, things will be fine. I'll transfer all my frustration to John Carpenter, who has apparently produced another Vampires movie…

Work, by the way, is excellent.

Apparently, if I don't leave the house before ten, I'm stuck home for the rest of the night. What's a would-be insomniac to do?

So guess who reacted a tad violently to the roadtrip idea? To be honest, this is just what I expected would happen, which is why I put off asking for so long.

The main problem--excepting the arrogance with which my father approaches every argument--is my economic situation. Since I haven't even started working, my dad thinks that taking "7-10 days" off in August would be bad idea. "Need to work, earn some money", as he rather incoherently put it.

Well, the economic thing is of course no big deal; it's my time and my money, unless we're talking about college -in which case it's my time and his money and I sound like a hypocrite from a certain twisted perspective. So I didn't exactly argue about my potential loss of earnings, didn't really bring it up at all.

I did say that I thought it was only 5-7 days, not 7-10, which only reflects on my continued, half-voluntary ignorance when it comes to this whole Road-Trip thing. And I tossed out a paltry response to the job thing, reminding him that I had made $120 at Schaeffer's. Deaf ears, you understand.

Well… yep… you see, this whole thing is going to be quite the ordeal; getting him to agree to Germany was hard, getting him to go for the Spontaneous Roadtrip 2001 was hard, and this could be just as hard.

And--now this is the part where you get angry with me--I'm not sure it's worth it. I'm sick of arguing with my dad. It requires talking to him, and trying to understand his point of view, and all kinds of logistical crap I'm not up to. He does have a point; it's two days there, and two days back (and it might take longer than planned, if anyone else can't go, can't get off of work, etc), and we want to stay there for a bit too, so it would mean a lot of missed work for someone who's only got about two months of potential work-time left.

Ugh. Anyways, I know it will be fun, especially without the bitterness and hate--who can hate anyone around Arno?--and I'll try to get permission, but I'm not going to strain myself. This place gets pretty uncomfortable when I'm having one of these week-long arguments with my dad.

(Have I written something like this before? It sounds familiar)

On the plus side, I've already managed to get permission for some grand and exciting (though in no way compensating for the roadtrip and yes, I know that if I can't go we can't use The Deathtrap, but you may not need that much vehicle with only four or five people and I do need to use The Deathtrap to get to Appleton with for three more years after all so maybe adding another cross-country-size trip to the odometer isn't the best idea) things this summer, and, if I don't end up going on the roadtrip… well, hopefully there'll be some intangible reward.

I always have such a problem with asking. I shouldn't be living on permissions… where's Flo?

Once again, ugh. I don't enjoy flaking out, though I do do it quite often (the patented 'instantaneous transport system' is just a mild example of such typical disregard for the time, effort, and enjoyment of others), and though others (Dylan, for the uninformed) have already opted out, I apologize for my lack of sacrifice here. It's time and effort I just don't feel up to spending, at the moment, I guess, maybe. By Monday I can give a definite yay-or-nay if you need to figure out transportation soon.

And I'll try to make it up to y'all. After testing the waters, I know I can get permission to use the cabin and/or to go to Canada without too much trouble… this is that plus side that doesn't make up for the Roadtrip, but it's something… I'll talk to my dad again tomorrow, but this is just an ugly rant on where things stand now.

Later.

In praise of Byron, the Immortal Lightbulb.

My updates have been rather sporadic, now haven't they. Well, I finished Gravity's Rainbow, which was good but not great. Rockets, ghosts, schematics, and all that rot. The poor protagonist was dissassembled, and the audience was bombed.

yes I agree, rot, though the word itself has become more enthusiastic in my mind over time, culminating in the most recent development, the spastic cry "Let's Rot!", not original, well, nothing's original They say, but at least this is most definitely NON-orginal, one of the preterite stolen phrases of this and every lost dimension.

Recent events have been interesting and, for once, different. I got a job at Giovanni's, delivering pizzas, which is worth it for the spectacle of the Deathtrap delivery alone. A van, delivering pizzas. I am a pioneer, an American Hero, a Rocketman (albeit without Major Tom, also lifted for that song from that book), breaking the car-er barrier, and, apparently, working alongside Graham's friend Jon and others.

My dad, incidently, discovered this site; he was prying into the archives when I went home. This is holy ground, an intellectual(?) sanctum (though I have no illusions about the fictionalizing and self-propagandizing latent in blogging) and I will not have it sullied. If you found this site thanks to that lovely link that ICQ2002 put at the bottom of all my parent's emails, please go away now and never visit again. I like invisible eyes, but not this variety.

Needless to say, I told the Content Advisor that this page was hardcore porn or something, and that no one on my parent's computer should be allowed to access it, thus protecting my privacy. It's wickedly ironic, using Content Advisor that way.

Only six glasses of water today.

Speaking of which, I saw The Royal Tennenbaums (no attempt was made to spell the title correctly, reflecting my inability to pronounce said title) last night at Graham's. It was pretty good, a bit heavy on the visual storytelling but the whole thing works anyways. Tonight I watched Men in Black II with Dylan and ate dinner with both Dylan and Jenna, at Burger King.

The whole flesh-vs-spirit story is exactly what I need to think about right now.

That and toning down the tone around here. I can only guffaw at my own enlightened nature for so long, after all, the tongue can only go so far in the cheek before even I choke. Oh, and I was trying to copy Pynchon up there, but I didn't pull it off too well -some parts look a bit more like Eggers, who gets on my nerves, so I understand if the whole exercise was a bit tedious.

And I know that last sentence was pretentious, but it's putting my writing down, and not even in the pity-garnering way; I'm quite serious about that Eggers thing and it bugs me, so the self-depreciation and the pretention balance each other out more-or-less.

Frieda (Graham's mom) is breaking the ice for the road-trip tomorrow when she sees my dad, who of course has heard nothing about it. I picture an opera, with Frieda, my dad, and myself, for some reason.

And now I'll shut up, say I'm going to bed, and go play Warcraft III for about three hours. The curse of an addictive personality.

As B/4.

Sometimes it takes a traumatic experience, sometimes it takes a Burger King chicken sandwich.

Hail to the five senses!

Well, it looks like I'm off to the cabin, up north in Backus. For the fourth. The unsullied holiday.

Last night I went to the Battle of the Bands, which was pretty good. I don't often attend concerts and I'd forgotten how much a band's success depends on image and stage presence and these other non-music-related 'things'. I'm not down on concerts, I just wonder at the odd relationship between showmanship and the show.

This concert was outside, in the football field. As I told Jenna, next year we all have to show up with blankets, picnic baskets, and authentic 17th-century attire. Afterwards, I went home and watched Crimson Tide with Matt and some of his friends.

Well, later.

Amazon.com orders last all summer long.

My order came in today, bubblewrapped and smelling of new books. Ah, new books.

Then again, I still have to finish my old book. Here's a typically freaky excerpt:

He was the cause-and-effect man: he kept at her astrology without mercy, telling her what she was supposed to believe, then denying it. "Tides, radio interference, little else. There is no way for changes out there to produce changes here."

"Not produce," she tried, "not cause. It all goes along together. Parallel, not series. Metaphor. Signs and symptoms. Mapping on to different coordinate systems, I don't know…" She didn't know, all she was trying to do was reach.

But he said: "Try to design anything that way and have it work."

And so it goes. Except that, like two of the last three books I've read, it's a rather erotic novel. Hmph.

Well, anyways.