Read A Book.

Preferably a banned book. I guess it's time for me to revisit The Catcher in the Rye again. It's the only one I know I can tear through in the time that I have left this week.

Perspective.

There's a reason why T and I have been friends since we were fifteen. I was talking to him on the phone earlier, and I was complaining that the b.h. was gone out of town for the week on tour.
"I hate it," I said, bluntly. "It totally sucks."
"Yeah, but it's good to hate somebody being gone."


I've just discovered, thanks to Vision Video, a show called Slings and Arrows. I've been watching it for hours at a time. Love it.

Got out on Saturday night to see Mikey Dwyer and the Starter Kits. The show was great. It's been quite some time since I've seen them.Hung out with Shayne and Todd and Dave and my boss from the ISA. I hadn't spoken to any of them ahead of time about the show, but there we were. One of the things I will miss about this town.

Work Blog.

I just waited on a fifty-year-old guy in a Tommy H1lfiger shirt and HELLO K1TTY JEANS.
No shit.

Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's 1979.

As in - there is no fucking gasoline to be had - anywhere.
Which is all well and good for me, because I happened to fill up my extremely efficient car a couple days ago, and I shouldn't need gas again for at least a week.
But people are seriously freaking out. And I am prolly not gonna get to go to Atlanta to see the b.h. play on Saturday. And even less likely to get to go to Oxford to see him play with the Truckers on Wednesday. Which is a bummer. But hey, they may not even get to go play, if there's no gas between here and there.
Who knows. More on this later. Speaking of moron, did anybody see Sarah Palin interviewed by Katie Couric earlier tonight? Go find it on YouTube. I swear The Office was less cringe-inducing.
Sheesh.
Hell? Hand-basket? Anyone?

What's In A Name?

The best part of my job at the Importer of Smoking Accoutrements, thus far, has been filing. No, I do not have a special love for alphabetization, nor am I particularly inclined toward organization (see my house for proof). It's just that the names people choose for their head shops are so fucking ridiculous. I will post a list later, but I just ran across one that made me stop what I was doing and come straight to the computer: Blaze N Jays. Seriously.
I can't wait til I make my way far enough up the ladder here that I actually get to speak to the geniuses that run these places.

A Copout, Courtesy of Sullivan...

And to him courtesy of somebody else. Oh well. It's too good to pass up.

"A huge percentage of the stuff that I tend to be automatically certain of is, it turns out, totally wrong and deluded. Here's one example of the utter wrongness of something I tend to be automatically sure of: Everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute center of the universe, the realest, most vivid and important person in existence. We rarely talk about this sort of natural, basic self-centeredness, because it's so socially repulsive, but it's pretty much the same for all of us, deep down. It is our default-setting, hard-wired into our boards at birth. Think about it: There is no experience you've had that you were not at the absolute center of. The world as you experience it is right there in front of you, or behind you, to the left or right of you, on your TV, or your monitor, or whatever. Other people's thoughts and feelings have to be communicated to you somehow, but your own are so immediate, urgent, real -- you get the idea. But please don't worry that I'm getting ready to preach to you about compassion or other-directedness or the so-called "virtues." This is not a matter of virtue -- it's a matter of my choosing to do the work of somehow altering or getting free of my natural, hard-wired default-setting, which is to be deeply and literally self-centered, and to see and interpret everything through this lens of self.

People who can adjust their natural default-setting this way are often described as being "well adjusted," which I suggest to you is not an accidental term," - David Foster Wallace

Funny in a Depressingly True Way.

Just finished mowing the lawn (no, not a euphemism). Straightening up the house and running some errands next. Then I get to pick up the b.h., fresh from his week long road trip. So I'm prolly not gonna be back here for a minute. In the meantime, enjoy this little nugget, courtesy of my good friend MT and my growing fears about the political environment in this country.
Terrorist Fist Jab, Y'all.

Great Idea.

Look over on the right there at my new link- The Newspaper Bag Project is a website that Z's son started. I took a quick look at it a minute ago (I'm at work) and I'm going to try to make my own bags when I get some free time. Which should be in about a month. Well, probably Sunday, but that will feel like a month from now.
Anyway, it looks like fun.

Ready, Set, D'oh!

The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was knock a glass off of my nightstand when reaching to turn off my alarm. It broke, of course.

The rest of my morning has been going better, thanks.

Ahhhh.

Finally somebody makes me laugh.

No. No. No no no no

Noooooooooooo.

This one says it better.

Best.

Fuuuck.

Another Lame Weekly Recap.

So Monday I got to go to my first Wine Show as a member of the Local Liquor Store staff. I found out about it kind of last minute, so I had some juggling to do, but I worked it out.
Drove to Atlanta with the Boss's Wife and two other employees. I didn't really know the girl who was driving, but we had met before. On the way, we stopped for fast food (which I rarely eat due to my vegetarianism and my natural fear of fast food in general). I got ice cream and french fries, because I knew I was going to have a lot of alcohol to soak up. Our driver, Hannah, was playing today's hot country hits, eating a burger, and texting somebody on her cell phone, all the while tailgating the car in front of us and complaining about her hangover. We had yet to breach the loop.

We had to stop at a department store in downtown Atlanta on our way, because Hannah had seen a pair of shoes in the new issue of Vogue that she simply had to have. We entered through the perfume department, which is never a good idea. The store did not have Hannah's shoes, but the Boss's Wife found a pair, so all was not lost. Hannah seemed near to tears, and as soon as we got to the hotel, she started calling around to find the nearest store where she could buy her shoes. I cannot stress enough how distraught she was. It was embarrassing. So we met up with the other carload of employees, and after wandering around lost for a few minutes, made our way into the trade show.

I don't want to bore you with the details, but suffice to say that spitting in public was a new and terrifying experience, and at one point I spit just a little too hard into a bucket that was a little too full, and I got the backsplash of a hundred other spitters' wine on my face. It was mortifying. I tried a lot of wine, stayed sober, learned a lot, and am eager to do it again. I did have a scorching hangover at around midnight, which was confusing because I hadn't been drunk at any point. Ah, but the tannins. Lesson learned for next time: Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.

Tuesday I worked at the Importer of Smoking Accoutrements. It was a long and mostly uneventful day. Tuesday night the b.h. had band practice, so I went in to the Local Liquor Store to put in a couple hours doing computer work.

Wednesday I worked a full day the the ISA, came home for a couple hours, and went to my gig as a fill-in bartender at a Local Rock Club. The idea was that I would work and make extra money, miss J. Roddy but also help out my friend who manages the Rock Club, then go see J. Roddy in Atlanta on Thursday night. Well, it didn't work out that way. The bartending gig was fine, but my night kind of went really South afterward, resulting in little sleep and a very painful full day of work at the Local Liquor Store, which began at 9am. With my boss.

Thursday night I was asleep by eleven.

Friday I worked half a day at the ISA, then went the the LLS until midnight. After that I raced downtown to see the b.h. play a show at The Georgia Theater. It was great. I got there just in time. Got to see my friend MT for a minute, as well as a few other folks. Feel like I haven't seen him or anybody else for awhile, but I guess it hasn't been that long. Just that time passes weirdly when you're always at work. The good news is the bills are paid and I get to buy myself some new gym shoes tomorrow. Yay! New shoes!

So now I'm watching Square Pegs on a DVD from Netfl1x, waiting for the b.h. to get back from Augusta, where he played tonight. Also cleaned the bathroom and I'm catching up on some laundry. And drinking a Weyerbacher pumpkin ale, which I like okay but am not completely sold on. I think I'll stick to pie for my pumpkin intake. (Mmmmmm.... pie. Note to self: fried pie season is almost here. Must get back to Ellijay in early October).

So that's why i haven't been writing much. I still feel like a douche, though. Anyway, i hope you are all well. Will catch up on my blog reading tomorrow, I hope.

Tonight.

J. Roddy Walston & the Business. Tasty World. Be there.
Oh, and The Dictatortots, too.

Uncle! Uncle Already!!

Mice(again).
Moths(again).
Car Trouble.
Computer trouble.
Oh, now the other computer is fucked up. Sweet.
Plumbing Issues.
And now... ants. Lots of them. In the kitchen.

I'm eager for this week to be over.

*Update The plumbing is fixed, that car is fixed. Still don't have the car back yet, but that's okay. Off to work at the Local Liquor Store now. Wish me luck.

Ah, Hypocrisy.

This is why I love John Stewart. And also why F0x N3ws needs to go away, or at least stop calling itself a news channel.

Incidentally, I called several people to complain about the garage. I hope nobody burns my house down.

Some Good Ole' Boys Try To Fuck Me.

Tuesday I dropped the b.h at work, and made my way over to the ISA. I was having a fine day at work, and the b.h. got done early but had found a ride home, so I was planning on spending some extra hours in order to get out earlier later in the week.
I realized, at around four, that we hadn't yet heard from the mechanic about our car. I called the b.h. and asked him to call them.
The b.h. called back a minute later, saying that they hadn't found a fuel leak, but they had fixed the exhaust leak. Without calling me. I was puzzled and pissed. He said that the guys had told him to call back in twenty minutes to get the total for the work they had done. I waited an angry, slow twenty minutes, and called them.
"Wilson's Auto Shop."
"This is hey bartender. You have my Corolla. So where are we right now?"
"Oh, we put it back up and looked under it and we found the fuel leak. You've got a hole in your gas tank. We can order the part, but it won't be here before Thursday."
"And what else have you done?"
"We fixed the exhaust leak."
"And why did you do any work without calling me first?"
"Uh, well, I didn't think it was a big thing. It's just a little gasket. You don't have to pay for it-"
"And how much is the new gas tank going to cost?"
There is a pause, and some muffled talking.
"Four hundred and thirty-three dollars."
"Really. And how much do I owe you right now?"
"About a hundred dollars."
"How much of that was for the repair that I didn't ask you to make?"
"About fitty dollars."
"Really? For that "little part? That "no big deal"? Fifty dollars?"
"Well, for puttin' it on, yeah. We can take it off. You don't hafta-"
"Oh I'm not going to pay for it. Don't touch that fucking car. I'll be out there in a few minutes to pay you for the tow."

I called the b.h., and left the ISA immediately, trailing smoke from my ears. I also called my mechanic, the ever fabulous Gary over at Master's Garage on 441 North. We talked and he agreed that it didn't sound right. I told him I was having it towed over to his place.
I wondered to myself how it was possible that a mechanic could jack a car up to fix the exhaust and not see gas leaking from a hole in the gas tank. I also wondered how a car with a hole in the gas tank still had gas in it at all after sitting for two days at the garage. Funny...

When we got there, none of the mechanics would look at me. The guy I was paying for the tow had to, but he made as little eye contact as possible. The boss never turned around to look at me. I told the b.h. to go over and peek in the car and tell me how much gas was in it. It was full. I continued to play along for a minute.
"So assuming that I eventually have the money to fix the hole in my gas tank, how much is it going to cost?"
Silence. The fat guy who is writing up my receipt looks over at his boss, who will not acknowledge my presence and has not turned around the whole time, even though he is only two feet away from me.
"What'd he tell you?"
"Well he said four hundred thirty-three dollars, but that was just for the part. How much to actually put it in?"

Silence.

That's what I thought. I paid the asshole fifty dollars in cash and we left. We drove down the road and parked in a parking lot to wait for the tow truck driver from Triple A. Since the gas only leaks while it's running, we decided that we couldn't drive it but it would be safe for them to tow. The driver came out in less than an hour. He knew exactly where Masters Garage is, and grinned when I mentioned it. "I used to date Gary's daughter. One time he got in my car and had the whole steerin' wheel apart in like three minutes. He's the best."
Yes he is. And if only I had known that the car would stop leaking, I would have taken it to him in the first place. But I didn't want him to show up at work on Tuesday with twelve gallons of gas all over his lot because of me. And I figured since I dragged the towing guy out on a Sunday, the least I could do was give them some business at their garage. I was wrong. I will not make that mistake again.

So now Gary has it, and it should be ready in a few hours. But note to selves: Wilson's Auto Service is bullshit. DO NOT take your car there. And if you happen to get in an accident in Oconee County, do not let them tow it, or else tow it away from them as soon as possible. What a bunch of assholes.

A Recap of Last Week.

Wednesday- worked at my new job, an Importer of Smoking Accoutrements, and then at the Local Liquor Store on Wednesday night. Ditto for Thursday, and for friday. Saturday I was back at the LLS at nine in the morning, and then on to the bar at ten in the pm. On sunday, the b.h. and I went out running errands. We filled the gas tank, went to his folks' house to look in on their pets, and finally got to the grocery store after almost two weeks. When we came out of the grocery store, we noticed a very strong gasoline odor coming from our car. Then we noticed a stream of gasoline coming out from underneath it. So we crossed our fingers and drove a couple miles back to the house.
When I called triple a about towing, the woman on the phone said that they would not tow a car that was leaking fuel. "It's a fire hazard. You have to call the fire department and have them come and drain it."

There was no answer on the non-emergency fire department number, so i called the sherrif's department. They called the fire department, and the fire department sent out two guys (that were young enough to be my children) in a pickup truck. The guys said that there was nothing they could do, but that the idea that we couldn't get it towed in that condition was silly. "We use Wilson's," he said. "They tow all the time from accident sites and stuff. There's no reason they can't do it."
So we called Wilson's, even though it was Sunday and a holiday weekend, because I did not want our full tank of gas leaking into the ground water. When the guy came out, he was really nice and I told him what the problem was and he pulled the car right up onto the tow truck and hauled it away. "They won't get to it until Tuesday," he said.

"I know. You should siphon out that gas if you can. I hate for it to go to waste. Just tell them to give me a call when they get a look at it. And will you please have them look at x as well?"

"No problem."

He left, and I felt better. Next I spent an hour and a half with my good buddy MT, running around town picking up and switching out cars. The b.h.'s folks are out of town, so we were able to use their car for a few days.
Next we went (two and a half hours late) to Jenn's for a BBQ. I ate a ton (I dubbed her homemade mac and cheese "crack and chee"), drank a couple beers, and basically relaxed and had a good time. We came home pretty early and passed out.
Since Monday was a holiday, I had the day off. The b.h. worked despite the fact that it was his birthday, because service industry slaves don't have holidays. I did some running around and he got out early and we came home with the first disc of the second season of Dexter. All in all, it was pretty busy. So you can see why I haven't been here in awhile.