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(BGM: Red Lorry Yellow Lorry "Talk Abobut the Weather*")

Been a lot on my mind lately, though mostly the same type of stuff. Have been in a sort of funk, but with the weather being as warm and pleasant as it has been ("Indian Summer") it's hard to be in any kind of funk, so I've been in a reasonably good mood. Of course adverse weather doesn't affect me nearly as much as the changing of seasons, and now that it's Autumn with Elections very near, the new fiscal year underway, and students crawling all over the University campus . . . ESPECIALLY with all of the students back . . . all of the old nagging questions come to the forefront: "why have I no college degree? Why didn't I finsh school? Why, as a nearly-middle-aged adult man, surrounded by tens of thoudands of beautiful young women, do I feel incredibly frustrated and guilty?"
And so it goes . . . .
Last Monday around lunchtime Arik and I found ourselves walking around the neighborhood marvelling at the abovementioned flocks of young women/girls, feeling a bit too old and basically like dirty old men. Sometimes it's fun to feel this way, but mostly it's not very fun (makes you feel dated and useless at best, or superior and indifferent at worst.) On the previous evening Arik had knocked on my window and we ended up drinking, surfung the internet, and watching WACO: Rules of Engagement 'til the wee hours of the morning. At some point during the surfing and downloading Arik tried to convince me that I was "loney" (i.e. lonely, it's an old joke : ) and I had to insist that I wasn't. He tried to tell me that I deserved a significant other or grilfriend or what have you and obviously I was in the market what with this journal and all of the adult friend finding services I belong to, and yet I still tried to insist that at this point I'm probably a commited life-long bachelor with no prospects. Some of the things he said rang true to me, and yet it still doesn't change my outloook: online there are as many (if not more) beautiful young women and yet they all seem equally unattianable or mismatched to the odd duck that I am. Not to mention Uncle Kevin's Cardinal Rule ("no dating within the workplace") and there are always plenty of beautiful and talented young women there. Just rambling right now, but these things are always on my mind anyway.
My dreams have been wonderful lately, typically cryptic and filled with allegory and allusions to things that only I would know about, so unfortunately I cannot share them with you at this point (I will say this: some people write down a dream journal every morning or right after they have a dream regardless of the time of day, and this seems to work for them. As for myself my dream journal is kept within the confines of my dreaming mind itself, and as such my dream-life or dream-world is actually extremely well-developed and always has been. My inner dream journal has basically been my guide to the collective unconscious and a keen psychic investagatory tool all these years, through which I've often been able to see future events many years down the road . . . "oh no I've said too much.")
More later. I just wanted to get these things down while I had a spare moment.

*an old fave band and an all-time fave song for when I'm pissed-off/angry, not that I am angry today, however

Panic in The Year of W

(BGM: Joy Division@Preston)
A musing on Annual Wage Increases vs the rising costs of healthcare, interest rates, consumer price index, etc:

As "raises" are scheduled to be implemented soon at my place of employment I've been crunching the numbers. The upshot is that it doesn't look good. Sure I have a 401K and Profit Sharing, but I realize now that my hourly after tax take-home wage (as a soon-to-be middle-aged adult) amounts to less than the same figure I made as a young man in college . . . phooey! At this rate I'll never be able to afford much other than my quirky bachelor's lifestyle, let alone a family and all the fun that comes with (. . . sorry ma, no grandkids from this boy, Lord Knows I Tried.)

On the New Place and Solitude versus my place in The Group:

The new place has been going swimmingly for . . . is it three months already?!? I've grown accustomed to the relative quiet and relaxed atmosphere . . . just me and my boxes of belongings and deciding which of the things to stow permanently versus which to display, how to get things up off the floor, and wheteher or not to invest in Area Rugs and Ikea (ha ha ha!) I'm getting more and more used to the idea of blowing off my Bar Life altogether, but afteer years of being a regular atabar down the street from work it just seems strange to not go in there EVERY NIGHT for a few drinks, equally strange to not be living above a bar with its own petty politics, regulars, and internal squabbles. I have to admit to have grown to like certain aspects of this, but freely admit to liking my new situattion much MUCH more than the old. Nowdays Ican come home and drink chilled beer form the fridge without tipping anyone, can play my own brand of crap music instead of listening to the crap on the piped-in DMX, and DO NOT have to watch or listen to SPORTS on the television (as with the first few weeks of living with just a couch, VCR, and TV, I've been watching old videocassetes lately. Mostly weird stuff that wouldn't work for anyone but me, but like with The Manchurian Candidate some weeks earlier I've fixated on WACO: Rules of Engagement recently - probably all the Far Right literature I'd picked up recently.)

The other night at The Bar a friend and fellow regular suggested (for the upteenth time) that I ought to phone her and invite her over to "hang out" as in "we should hang out sometime now that you've got your new place." I say "sure, as soon as I have it cleaned up" and I do mean it, sort of. I mean this is a friend, but also a lady on the rebound from a divorce (I'm a friend and co-worker with here Ex) less than two months ago! Don't get me started on my Catholic Guilt (started? That guilt stuff never stops or goes away!), but I mean her implcations seem less than friendly and, well, you know what "hanging out" means at some stage of your adult life, right . . . um, *right?* Well, this lady's a bit younger than me, but is basically about the same age as the folks in my college peer-group, and for my group, back in college (was is ten years ago already?) "Hanging Out" was a phrase or term that was used as a colloquial shorthand for "more than just friends." The implications here, whether or not she's recently divorced, are for me a bit ominous and unwelcome. I mean I've been back here in Minneapolis licking my wounds from a five-year relationship that ended pretty badly in Boston, and although I am presently more than interested in the possibility of a relationship in the future (as opposed to five years ago and in the intervening five years, when I *was not interested at all!*) I think it would be a wasted effort and a waste of a friendship to mosey along into a romantic/sexual relationship with a recent divorcee. Not to mention the fact that she's *just not my type*, in other words I'm not greatly physically attracted to her. Sure she's a woman and I'm a man (remember the old Lloyd Cole song?) and both of us may be lonely, but . . . don't they make videos/magazines/adult toys for folks like us? I mean aren't there Matchmaking (I'm on about an even dozen online) services for goodness' sakes? Besides, engaging in a relationship with someone from Work (and this includes the ex-wife of Someone from Work) abrogates Uncle Kevin's Rules of matchmaking . . .

Alcohol, Jesus, and Death

Or Beer, Coffee, and Laundry . . .

I wanted to name this thing "Exile on Silver Lake Road" or "Nowhereland" or something equally poignant (or equally stupid) so long as the word "Exile" was in it because I really feel like an exile in this new apartment complex, and the whole idea of "Excommunication*" falls in here, too . . . on all sides of me, in all of the buildings I'm surrounded by Evangelical Christians of the Luis Palau variety and I certainly can't see eye to eye with most of them, it's tough when yer in yer late thirties trying to get down to basic terms with Evangelicals who are (most of 'em barely) in their early twenties. On the other hand I have met some nice but rather reserved (medicated?) artists, musicians, and students, but I think one neighbor next door summed it up best "this place had more of a real community feel to it when we first moved in." Of course, Chris (who manages the place) was not around for the fun fun days back in '98 and '99 when we threw Bon Apetit after-parties for the likes of Mutate, A:POD, and Slipknot, but that's probably for the best; he doesn't know me at my loudest and most incongruous, only at my QUIETEST and therefore most incongruous . . .

*I also think of Communique Records, though I don't own any.

I have also been busy removing spyware, bots, trojan horses, and other crap from my PC. Using Firefox now instead of IE. What a bunch of rubbish out there on the net these days!

COOL SITE ALERT!

http://www.strawberryswitchblade.net/

PIECE out . . .

DESCENT/ASCENT Florence Court #11-2

<><>It’s not as if I’ve really been busy as of late (damn-near broke, yes . . . ) but I have been busy settling in to my new place, with most of the stuff moved in and another weekend to pack stuff and get ready for . . . living in this place. Need some furniture and furnishings, mostly cheap disposable kinds (I will NOT live in an Ikea dream world, okay?) I’m definitely giving all of my stuff plenty of breathing room and space, and luckily have enough to spare (for now at least.) It’s taken me literally months to get settled in here, and there are good reasons for this, the main one being that I’d long since grown accustomed to living with other people, and the solitude and relative silence of this new place leaves me dumb-struck. The fact of the matter is that in the past eleven years I’ve lived in eleven residences, and this place is my first place all by myself in my entire life, adult-life or otherwise! No roommates, girlfriends, pets, plants, dirty dishes (yet), clutter . . . it’s an entirely new experience! I think I’ve slept here now for a full week, and until the last few days hadn’t had any music/speaker/headphones . . . just an old TV and VCR to keep me company. I’ve played/watched The Manchurian Candidate every day for the past week and a half, this added to my usual conspiracy/potboiler reading itinerary is making me very much on edge . . . but it’s the edge that I need, motivating, cleansing . . . (BTW to all and sundry: I recently scored a treasure-trove of Right Wing loony reading material, so this place is rapidly becoming Jonny Quest’s Wingnut Research Reading Room!)

I’ve been doing my absolute very best NOT to freak out or otherwise annoy the neighbors, but that’s a very arduous task when said neighbors are A) laid-back twenty-something Trustafarians and B) Luis Palau-affiliated Christian girls who are living away from home (and many fresh out of the U of M Dorms) for the first time in their lives! I think I’m the only person in this whole bloody complex who doesn’t own a car! So anyways, a few nights back I was feeling the itch, and just had to shake the cobwebs out of the old PWOW mixing gear, turntables, cassettes, and etcetera. As I kept mixing this junk and shaking out the dust it became quite late, probably later than I should have been making such a racket, seeing as how this old barn really echoes . . . still . . . who knew “The Snow” mixed so well with “The Hypnotist” . . . ? During the beatless mix of the Sabers’ “Smokebelch II” the sound of my left thumb hitting the space bar was louder than th boombox! PWOG’s “Break” from their Peel Session worked well with Underworld’s “Second Hand”, and I wished I had a copy of Orbital’s “Chime” (OFTHS version) to mix in . . . oh well, it’s what you should expect when you don’t have all of your old music together in one place (very soon though!) . . . and yeah, I think that it might well be official. . . that is, that the neighbors officially hate me or at least my music - until that night I’d been quiet and relatively reserved around the neighbors, trying to meet some of them and to be friendly (not to mention my new “clean cut and well-groomed” look that has everyone seemingly confused) but we all know that I have a tendency for late night loudness of the “musical” kind . . . I mean CHRIST I played PWOW, and rather loudly, too, an old tape from a nameless session . . .<>BTW, if I didn’t already mention it, I’ve been, sick, and (at the time I wrote this) am currently missing Slim Cessna at Lee’s . . . darn it all! I plan to Roboverdose tomorrow in order to “get better” (hell, it useta work Back in the Day, after all) but I’ve also gotta take care of some pressing Financial Matters am morgen (like the damned cel phone bill – hello?) so maybe I’ll just drink fuck loads of orange juice instead . . . Santana’s here I come!
<>PWOW Gear Shakedown Noize

(in no particular order):

<>Megumi / “F.U.” tape @ ‘97

8/24/94 - cassette me n’ Arik

PWOW - cassette 1995/6

PTV - “Stolen Kisses” ”Caresse”

PWOG – “Break”

Ibiza Afterhours (most)

FSOL - Lifeforms (some)

Soul of Eightball (some)

COIL - LSD “The Snow”

Severed Heads – “Dead Eyes Opened”

Czukay/Sylvian - “Plight”

Cabaret Voltaire - “Project 80”

Diary tape from 3/10/95

“Ordinary People” tape (’96)

Mad Professor “Lost Scrolls”

New Order “Turn the Heater On”,

“Your Silent Face”

Augustus Pablo “Earth’s Rightful Ruler”

some Hawaiian record (oy vey!)

Mark Stewart+MAFFIA”Stranger”

<>Wed 25 August 12:21 AM – o yasumi

<>PostScript/Addendum 8//24 @ 11:22-23: Y<>’all know that until now I was *NEVER* one to go in for the whole LiveJournal or brand-name online weblog, right? Sure I've kept lots of little notebooks with my thoughts, names, dates, addresses, crap poetry and all that fun stuff over the years, but until very recently the whole online Blog thing has not seemed like the right thing for me. But very recently I began to seriously consider Blogging, if only for purely tactical reasons which I’ll explain later. But before I start all of that I first have to get the whole high-speed online connection goin’ on (done!), and up until recently I’d used primarily dialup, which is SOOO 1990! So I had to go high-speed not only for blogging but also for other more practical purposes than just wagging my digital chin (I ostensibly run two businesses . . .) so it all ties together. More photos (Friendster too!) and Housewarming Party Invite coming VERY soon. <>This Mortal Coil is on now Cocteau Twins’ll be on next . . . for pity’s sake SOMEONE STOP ME!!!!!