sick

I hate being sick. Hate. Hate. Hate. I felt so miserable and incapacitated today that I made my first non-emergency visit to a doctor in at least seven years. The urgent care clinic kept me waiting for ages in a cold room by myself while I shivered and sweated. That was one of the best periods of the day because I didn't feel delirious. The doctor told me that I have such a clear case of strep throat there is no need even to test for it. I just need to take drugs and drink water and sleep for days. My goal is to sleep until Friday and wake up, perfectly healthy, in time to get ready for the party. If you should happen to see me anytime in the next couple days, flee in terror.

in search of the party

The web page for our halloween party has received more traffic than I anticipated. The reason, I discovered, is that the page turns up in the top ten results if you search for "tasteless costumes" on google. Someone also found it by searching for "good things about the dress code". I rather doubt our dress code page shed any light on that subject. Speaking of parties, tonight is Sofie and Leann's costume party. I should go get ready.

Today's politically incendiary website is tinkin.com.

party preparations

If anyone is interested and able to help out, I've put together a list of things we need.

Activities:

• handing out flyers
  
• putting up black plastic
  
• decoration ideas/decorators
  

Supplies:

• non-messy snacks (veggies, etc)
  
• liquours of various flavors
  
• glow sticks
  
• fluorescent/glow-in-the-dark objects
  

Any booze that people want to bring is welcome. We'll have the basics and a few extras. Does anyone have a martini shaker? Remember to pass on the invitation to others.

music you can feel

On Jenny's suggestion I sat down with a movie while cutting up the flyers that were printed Monday night. I think City of Lost Children was a bad choice because I did more watching than cutting. If any of you have not seen this excellent movie I invite you to come over any time and I'll watch it with you.

Last night Nate and I went out to The Garage to see The Randies and invite them to the halloween party. The garage is a great little punk bar in Silverlake. It typifies what I like about the LA music scene. In this big crowded city are a myriad of small bands trying to make it. Even small venues are able to present fresh, talented bands who haven't hit it big yet. At The Garage we were able to see five decent bands for $2. The atmophere was lively, the crowd was fun, and the MC went around with giving people "shots" with a tequila filled squirt gun. He even had a smaller gun filled with lemon juice for a chaser. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but next time I'm bringing ear plugs.

right after these important messages

Yesterday I received my bi-weekly dose of television at the laundromat. Laundry is a particularly odious task to me. But, I find myself strangely drawn there on hot days. It's my only chance to sit and read for a while in an air conditioned room. Inevitably, I absorb a few moments of afternoon cartoons and sitcoms as well.

I caught the tail end of a Scooby Doo episode that must be new. The voices weren't quite right and the sound effects (like Scooby running) were completely different. Why don't they just let go instead of kicking around the dead body of an old kid's show? Next up was Pokemon. Wow. Most of the episode was an infomercial for Pokemon cards. I think the animators were making an attempt at the award for slowest frame rate ever. They'll lose, however, because during the action scenes the background would flash about 8 million times per second. There seems to be a paint shortage at the studio because most of the scenes were drawn with only two or three colors. The cartoon seems to take advantage of the fact that you could get kids to watch a five second reel on repeat for hours as long as it had a talking animal with a wide-eyed expression. After Pokemon some generic sitcom whose name I missed was on. At this point the reception was getting bad and the sound would turn into static for long periods. I amused myself by imagining the cute, smiling faces saying things like, "let's go throw Molotovs at The Gap" or "boy, I can't wait for my colonoscopy."

One has to wonder, do television viewers ever realize that everything they are watching is exactly the same as what was on yesterday, last week, last year, but with a different name, new faces, brighter colors? The camera style never changes, the sets all look similar, the scripts are all cliches. Everything is described as "all new" and "never seen before". A look behind the scenes. You won't believe your eyes! All of the villains have the same expression, all of the jokes have the same format, all of the conflict is resolved in the same way, and everything returns to normal at the end of the episode. The dialog is just microwaved left-overs from previous dialogs. Once you've watched TV long enough you've heard every phrase and line. Even the new material is familiar in a way. I supposed this is part of what draws some people to it. A safe familiar escape posing as a new adventure. A dependable consistent world you can tune into every week. A never ending stream of recycled plots. Don't miss next week's shocking conclusion!

I love stores that are open 24/7 because I can go when no one else is around. I stopped by Kinko's at 1am to ask a couple questions and was surprised to find it still rather busy. When I returned at 3am the place was nearly empty. A couple people were at the self-serve copiers, and an old guy was mumbling end time prophecy to himself. I like not having to wait for anyone and not feeling rushed. I talked a bit with a very helpful employee who let me use the computer behind the counter to make corrections and charged me less than the official price. Life is pretty relaxed at 3am.

next time leave a raft

From the kitchen I could hear the familiar hiss of the hose. I went promptly to the front door to confirm my suspicions. Earlier in the day our landlord had been watering the plants. As I had guessed he had left and forgotten to turn off the hose that had now created a small pond outside the doorsteps and was flowing into the neighbor's yard. The landlords, Bill and Nikki are an elderly but feisty couple. Senility is steadily overtaking them. But, what they lack in wits they make up for in stubbornness and misplaced assertiveness. Once Bill was wandering though the living room and demanded to know what we had done with the french doors that separated the living room and dinning room areas. It took me a while to convince him that there were never any french doors as long as I had lived here. Leaving the hose on outside our door is a popular activity for both of them. Once Nikki came pounding on the door demanding to know why we had left the hose on and accusing me of wasting water. At first she didn't remember turning it on, then she insisted that she had asked me to turn it off at a certain time. She's insane.

They have no answering machine and when our shower faucet wouldn't turn off I found myself calling over and over with no answer. Nikki finally picked up the phone the following evening and then proceeded to chew me out for not calling sooner, insisting she had been at home the entire time. If I got a dollar for every time she called me a liar... California law says that if the rent's due date falls on a weekend or holiday the landlords can't penalize you for turning it in on the next business day. This didn't stop Nikki from waking me up at 8am on Labor day threatening to kick us out for not having the rent already under the doormat. She is always imagining that we've done something terrible like having more people live here than we admit to. Nikki yelled at Shane when she saw him leaving, unwilling to believe he was just visiting. She also never forgets these imaginary wrongs and will sometimes bring them up months later for no apparent reason. Like I said, she's crazy.

I nearly tripped over a stack of four cases of beer when I walked into my living room last Friday. In response to my puzzled inquiry my roommate simply said, "the beer fairy visited." Hey kids, remember to leave a bottle cap under your pillows. Our friend, Jon "Marty" Allen, works for Anheuser-Busch and is allowed to walk away with a few cases every couple months. He was kind enough to donate this month's allotment to our party. Oh, hey, by the way, we're having a party. Halloween party to be exact. Oct 31, 9pm, 684 Locust St, Pasadena. We finally have a web page up, but it might go through a couple more changes. The URL is http://shadowlurker.com/halloween. Check it out, pass it on, and most importantly show up on Halloween. If anyone is interested in helping out with supplies (booze, snacks, etc) or with setting up before the party please let me know. There's a lot of preparation to be done so we could really use the help.

dancing, chatting

My phone is certainly not flooded with phone calls all the time. In fact, only a moderate number of people even know my number. However, for the past six weeks, without fail, I have been called while at swing lessons. Yes, I could turn off the phone, but I always forget or think what are the chances of someone calling exactly during the lesson yet again? In fact, it's often multiple people calling me for independent reasons. If I don't receive a call the entire rest of the day, I'll still get called while dancing. Which isn't too bad since my phone is always on vibrate. It's amusing to be honest. Anyway, just so that people know why I'm not answering I have swing lessons once a week. Either on Thursday, 7:30-9:30 or Sunday 4:00-6:00.

I went clubbing with Xandy on Thursday night to a place called Dark Bar. Nice little bar, good music. The night was sparsely attended, but still fun since Xandy knows one of the DJs whom we chatted with for a while.

Inspired by Terrence I joined friendster (friendster@shadowlurker.com). I'm not sure if my life is more complete yet, but if it's on the internet it must be a wholesome and profitable endeavour, right? Is anyone else that I know on friendster?

I've officially given up msn messenging now. So, for those of you who used to chat with me via msn you'll need to find a different venue. As I mentioned before, try Gaim or Trillian and try signing up for an AIM or Jabber account. I'm noiseamplifier on AIM, and shadowlurker on Jabber.

120 mph portrait

My brother Dan is such a nutcase. I still can't believe he drove over 700 miles in a half-wrecked pickup truck to join Alex and I for a couple days. Dan arrived Friday night while Alex and I were out watching Kill Bill. He left Monday, a couple hours before I did, and probably didn't get home till about 2:00am that night. But, it was sure good to see him. Kill Bill was good. Violent, fascinating, colorful, beautifully choreographed, well filmed, fantastic art direction, but unnecessarily campy and cheesy.

On Saturday, we drove up to Cedar Point along with Alex's girlfriend, Lindsay, and her fun energetic roommate, Maggie. As well as sporting the fastest roller coaster in the world, Cedar Point can also boast the longest, slowest lines in the world as well as the most expensive soft drinks. I'd estimate we spent 8 or 9 hours waiting in lines for a total of about 10 minutes on rides. And it was worth every moment. The climax was a ride called the Top Thrill Dragster, which is the current record holder for speed, height, and phallus-resemblance. We decided to call it the Schlong 2003. We waited in line for over two hours for this 25 second ride. Fortunately, the ride wastes no time. In the first 4 seconds the you are accelerated to over 120 mph. The ride then turns vertical and sends you soaring upward 420 feet. After cresting over the top you are then dropped straight down, twisting 270° before reaching the ramp at the bottom that returns the breathless passengers to the unloading area. I had the fortune to sit in the very front car. Freefalling 420 feet with nothing beneath you is one hell of an experience. Afterward we glanced at the photos from the ride. I can't say that people are very photogenic at 120 mph. Most of us had our cheeks flattened out and pushed back as if we were in a cartoon. Too bad they can't take pictures right as people pass the peak and see how far away the ground is.

On Sunday we threw a frisbee, played Halo, and grilled steaks for dinner. In the evening we sat around in an overheated swimming pool drinking beer. Can't say I've had a more satisfying weekend in a long time. We also helped my aunt and uncle put up a new flag. The old one was torn into rags and had gotten jammed in the pulley. Dan shimmied up the 30 foot pole and cut it down while we stood beneath to catch him in case he fell. Fortunately no one died and we even managed to hoist up the new flag without mutilating it too badly.

We went out for lunch on Monday to a terrific Japanese steakhouse in Canton. Who ever thought you'd find good Japanese food in Ohio? Our food was prepared in front of us and the chef did tricks with the eggs. I charily ordered sashimi which, thankfully, was fairly fresh. The food was delicious and the prices were reasonable. If anyone knows of a similar place in LA, please tell me. After lunch we invented a game involving a basketball, a scooter, and three crazy players. Finally, many hours later than he planned to, Dan hit the road. I went for a last swim before heading to the airport. I couldn't have asked for anything more on the trip, except for more time.

On the flight back we passed through a lightning storm which was beautiful to watch. From LAX I decided to make my way back via public transportation rather than call someone to pick me up. It took about 1 hour 40 min to get back via rail lines. It was my first time riding the LA metro rail and I'd rate the experience as fairly good. Moderately clean and fast, very easy to navigate. It's a worthwhile option as long as one isn't in a big rush. I'll probably take the rail lines again next time I fly out of LAX, especially if I leave anytime near rush hour. This city does have the 3rd largest public transportation system in the US, we might as well use it.

of tears and travel

Late last night I returned from Ohio. After a brief reunion with my brothers, the three of us went our separate ways once again. The flight home was a lonely one. I stared out the window, tried to read, tried to sleep, but nothing could take my mind off the two guys I was flying away from. I felt stuck inside the droning white carriage that was indifferently carrying me westward through the night sky. I hated the plane for it. I hated the undersized overhead bins. I hated the stupid safety card in the seat pocket in front of me. I hated the Airfone in the center seat, constantly reminding me that Verizon can let me stay connected and that I can send emails and check sports and stocks for as little as $1.99 a minute. I hated the same inane in-flight programming that always played. I hated the people who incessantly check sports and stocks. I hated the painful lump in my throat. I wanted to burst out crying and hug someone I know. I wanted to run screaming to the cockpit and tell the pilot to turn back. I wanted to see my brothers again. I sat, tears streaming down my face, invisible to the drowsy, listless passengers around me, and waited out the flight. LA has never been so depressing to return to.

The shorter the visit, the harder it is to leave. I guess we don't have time to get on each others nerves. And, I suppose I'm pretty lucky to have brothers I really enjoy hanging out with. They're both great guys. I wish I could see them more often. But, alas, such is the life of a traveler. Anyway, I'll write about the rest of the trip later.

oh, yeah, i left

Currently, I'm sitting at my aunt's computer in Hartville, OH. I flew out yesterday to visit my brother, Alex who is here for another week before he sets off to New Hampshire to begin work for a theatre. On a whim, my other brother, Dan, decided to drive up today from Atlanta to join us, though he won't arrive until midnight or so. Tomorrow all of us will trek out to Cedar Point for a day of thrills.

My flight out here was uneventfully dreary. It was also the first time since 9/11/01 when I haven't been pulled out of line for special personalized harassment from TSA. My flight left at 7am so I had stayed up all night and foolishly intended to sleep on the plane. I hate United. One of the worst parts of plane travel is the painstakingly slow arrival. Especially in Chicago, after circling the airport for ages, then taxiing for even longer across a maze of runways we had to wait a short distance from our gate until another plane finally decided to move out of our way. Finally, there was an unexplained five minute delay before they even opened the cabin door. The time between the captain's "final decent" announcement and leaving the plane was about an hour. My roommate and I had been discussing this annoyance the night before. If only we could just strap on a parachute and jump out as the plane neared the airport. The solution, we decided, was to equip all planes with large detachable crates. Upon approach all disbarking passengers and their luggage would be loaded into the crate. The plane would swoop down and release the crate above a long slide that curves up at the end. When the crate comes to a stop everyone piles out. I guess the plane would need a big hook to pick up new cratefuls of passengers as well. Ok, that's enough brilliant ideas for one day. I'm off to throw a frisbee with my little cousin.

oh boy, oh boy, a sticker

Indeed, election day is upon us. The long wild ride will hopefully be over in a few hours. After finishing up this entry I'll be on the way to my polling station. I still haven't made up my mind. The only thing I really care about is that Davis is removed. I would prefer to have a rabid dung-flinging ape in office than him. I really can't understand why any liberals or democrats are supporting him. Davis is pretty much the anti-democrat. He gave tax breaks to only the rich, eliminated almost every social service for lower income folks, initiated the most regressive taxation scheme possible, is very anti-immigrant, and redirected vast amounts of education money toward building prisons instead. He is also the greatest corporate whore in history with an abominable record of selling off favors and perks to the highest bidder. Davis brazenly lied about the state's financial situation during his campaign and only won because he spent state money to help Simon defeat Riordan, thus gaining the moderate vote for himself. He is one of the most corrupt politicians alive today and regardless who might replace him, Davis deserves nothing less than removal.

As for a replacement candidate, I have no idea. I don't like any of the major candidates. There is a certain appeal to voting for the candidate whose campaign statement was "I breathe" or the guy who said that his election to office would break the 7th Seal and unleash Armagedon. Porn star, sumo wrestler, retired meat packer? Perhaps I'll bring a pair of dice with me and start rolling them when I step into the booth. Or maybe I'll discreetly lean over to the next booth and say "pssst ... who are you voting for?" Or, I could make this into an entrepreneurial expedition and sell my vote.

However the day turns out I think the recall process has been a good thing. It has brought many of the issues facing the state to the public's attention. It has revived voter interest producing the highest voter turn out in years. Even if Davis wins this will hopefully have shaken a little responsibility into him. In fact, it already had the positive effect of forcing Davis to sign the licenses-for-immigrants bill he twice vetoed (so that he could regain the eroding support from his own party). And it has certainly been an entertaining process with smut peddlers and billboard models putting in their bid for governor. I much prefer wacky, silly elections like this to the normal serious ones. It shows politics to be the joke that it really is. Well, if you have any last minute campaign pitches for me, call me in the next 20 minutes or so. After that I'll be flipping my coin.

my ears are still ringing

[written last night, posted today]
To resuscitate the bits and pieces I had intended to write about the last few weeks would be an insurmountable task. The only major event of the last few weeks was the return of Jon "Marty" Allen. Without warning he showed up at our doorstep bearing pictures, old Iraqi currency, and tales of all his earthly possessions being reduced to a smoldering heap of ash. It was quite a relief to see that Marty made it back safe and sound.

In contrast to much of the last few weeks the previous few days have been rather busy. Nat and I have started planning for our halloween party, which I'll mention more about soon. Xandy introduced me to internet radio. I've been a regular listener to a few live365 stations and the Detroit Industrial Underground. On Thursday I made a reappearance in the club scene by visiting Perversion. I had nearly forgotten how much I love being in the middle of a crowd of fishnet and vinyl clad people throbbing and stomping to the beat of dark,
harsh music. I need to go clubbing more often.

Friday evening I went out with Seth, Jenny M, and Nat to the Bigfoot Lodge. I'm not really sure why we went there. Just to be out of the house and have a beer I suppose. I think I'm kind of bored of the regular bars we go to. Need to find somewhere new.

I accompanied Joe and Ryan Bacon to Aron's Famous Parking Lot Sale Saturday morning. I've never seen so many obscure CDs in my life. And people were hauling them away by the boxload. In the evening I went over to Montrose for Oktoberfest. I would never had guessed that such large crowds would turn out for $5 beer and $4 hotdogs outside of a baseball stadium. Clearly nothing can prevent people celebrating their German heritage by drinking insipid American beer and overpriced soft drinks. To build on this authenticity a local karate club paraded through and held a demonstration for the festival goers. To the theme music of Mortal Kombat various groups and individuals ran up onto the stage, sparred briefly with the others or with the air and tumbled offstage. Sometimes guys dressed like thugs would go onto the stage and look menacing until a young student ran up and kicked them in the nuts. The best part was when the little kids showed the rather amusing self-defense technique of throwing their backpacks at badguys. I pity the miscreant who attempts to kidnap those children. Anyway, the highlight of the event for me was the rare opportunity to walk around in public holding a beverage without violating half a dozen laws. For the record, the honorable Matt Stahl was also at Oktoberfest with me.

Later in the evening Shane, Dave Faulkner and I went to the Short Stop and discussed military funding sources and man-made diamonds. This afternoon I attended the fourth lesson of the current swing dancing class. Level II is difficult, but definitely enjoyable. My only problem with the class is the unwholesome lack of females. Both classes today had about 10 extra men. Later on I found myself passing through the ancient shopping cart burial ground known as the Walmart parking lot. I wish I'd had a camera with me. The cart corrals were overflowing. Many a parking space was occupied by a herd of lost carts. Overturned carts littered the medians and lanes. If I ever want to film a post-apocalyptic movie I know where
to go.

Well, that brings me to tonight. Despite having a good day it's kind of a sad evening. Tonight was the end of the road for US women's team in the World Cup. It was a rather unexpected and emotional loss. The US team contained more top ranked players than any other in the world and looked well on their way to taking the cup. As the game ended several of the US players were in tears. This was the last competition for some of the stars like Mia Hamm. For me the saddest part was that Brandi Chastain, one of the most colorful players in women's soccer, was never able to return after being injured in the first game. This must be a pretty discouraging way for the women to end this season of their lives. Unfortunately I'll have to miss their last game in the tournament which will determine the 3rd place team. But, I still think they're the most talented bunch of women soccer players in the world and they're in no danger of losing my admiration.