Friday, June 30, 2006

Reading: Stiffed, by Susan Faludi. I've read a shitload of great books this year, but this one stands up to all of them.
Listening: "Dusk and Summer" new album by Dashboard Confessional
Watching: The Family Guy, So You Think You Can Dance, House, Deadwood
Working: Learning my new day-job, and loving it. Researching material for possible new non-fiction book about political violence I've been kicking around.
Fetus is craving: Cherries. The kind with pits. Yeah, I don't get it either.

I discovered a terrific new vocabulary word in Susan Faludi's book "Stiffed".


It means literally something that induced forgetfulness of sorrow, but in context it usually refers to the "desire not to pardon the past but simply forget that it ever happened."

I don't often come across a vocabulary word I've never seen before, so I've gotten to the point when finding one makes me feel like Jacques Cousteau bringing up some long-extinct missing-link deepsea fish from the depths.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Reading: Stiffed, by Susan Faludi
Listening: U2's "How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb"
Watching: Hell's Kitchen.
Working: Night.Blind
Fetus is Craving: A more comfortable sleeping position.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Die in a fire, Cheese-Heads!

The emotion of shame is the primary or ultimate cause of all violence. The purpose of violence is to diminish the intensity of shame and replace it as far a possible with its opposite, pride, thus preventing the individual from being overwhelmed by the feeling of shame. The major sources of shame for American men are downward mobility and unemployment, circumstances that reveal a helpless core, showcasing an emasculating dependency. --Dr. James Gilligan, Violence.
Excerpted from Stiffed: the betrayal of modern man, by Susan Faludi.

You know... Sitting in a Wisconsin acquaintance's backyard swilling beer, eating brats, and listening to blues music while children swim in above-ground pools and babies crawl in the grass, I could almost believe in a world where the American dream isn't three decades in its grave.

I had forgotten how essential that the weekend getaway is to the spirit. I haven't been out of Chicago in eight months, and now that I'm here, it certainly seems worth whatever hassle that is inherent in getting out of the city. Being out under the huge and endless sky is enough to remind anyone how immense the world is.

City folk, for all their worldly huff, are prone to losing perspective. Twenty miles of open sky in all directions can leave plenty of room for big thoughts, and remind you that there are still places where government is just a set of ideas and not a constant presence.

On that magnanimous note, on with the cheese-head pics!

Beth and I stop for a pee in the Lake Geneva Super WalMart. An immense structure that seemed to sell nearly every imaginable consumer good and had 18 check-out lanes.

Beth in front of the Lake Delevan Piggly Wiggly, a grocery store which despite its goofy moniker, actually sold some good food at reasonable prices. I wish there was one of these on my street instead of fucking overpriced Dominick's.

An afternoon at a public beach in Lake Delevan.

Yaar, matey. This rusty old pirate bids you welcome to the Pirate's Cove Bar and Grill!

A rad old Coke machine from our motel's front porch. $0.50 a can? What a steal!

The slick urban Volvo S60 Turbo sees action for the first time as a very comfortable, very functional weekender. It stood out a little among the Ford Rangers and Chevy Luminas, but not too badly.

The Flynns, of Flynnfest 2006.

Nothing says summer fun like drinking booze from a paper bag!

At Lakelawn Golf Club, a real champagne brunch. Champagne for breakfast, you say? Yes sir! (This has to be the gay-est picture of me EVER.)

At 4am, a wedding party of rambunctious, drunk cheese-heads invaded the rest of the motel we were staying in and hollared/whooped/crashed into walls for about two hours. Gosh those cheese-heads sure know how to have fun. So much so that the word "fuck" is perfectly audible even through plaster walls. We were hoping at least not to have one of them put a fist through our wall. I was so taken up with their merry-making that I drifted blissfully back to sleep with visions dancing in my head of trans-ams wrapped around telephone poles. Thanks for the memories, you $£¥#% cheese-heads!

Sunday, June 18, 2006

You know you're a complete asshole when...

I called my dad first thing this morning to wish him a happy Father's Day, and didn't get through because my mom was talking to someone on their phone. She then calls me back to say hello and tell me that my father is out fishing (alone), and will be back later. I promise to call back later on and tell him happy Father's Day because his fucking card went out too late and I know he hasn't gotten it yet. So here I sit at almost 11 PM, (12 PM where he is) and I remember that I haven't yet called him. Naturally it's too late to call now, but all this leaves me feeling like a complete and utter asshole.

I'm the worst son ever.

Happy Father's Day, dad. I love you.

The week in pictures

(Also known as: Random shit that I took pictures of with my cell phone this week)

A small-frame pickup truck festooned inexplicably with large seashells. Parked outside the W Hotel at 8:00 AM.

My Dell Axim, iPod, Journal... (cell phone not pictured). I'm reminded of a Zits cartoon where the mother asks the son to put away his cellphone, ipod, internet connection, etc, and just TALK to people. The son responds with something like: "Can we hurry this up, I'm uncomfortable with too little connectivity."
Reading: Stiffed by Susan Faludi
Listening: Dani California - Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Watching: Deadwood, Videodrome (hilarious 80's David Cronenberg sci-fi with James Woods)
Working: Night Blind: Human Resources
Fetus is Craving: Orange Juice, abnormally high room-temperatures.

My friend James, who gloriously quit his day job as a receptionist in a doctor's office to go on the road as a Hampton Bedhead. Sure, it's corporate marketing, but only something like 3% of all actors make enough money to call it a job.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Reading: Stiffed: The Betrayal of Modern Man by Susan Faludi
"How it Ends" by Scott Lyerly
Listening: Powerless - Nelly Furtado
Concieved - Beth Orton
Dani California - Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Watching: Nothing
Working: Night Blind: Human Resources, writing reviews.
Fetus is Craving: Chocolate Milk, air conditioning.

I ordered one Ceil Blue scrub top and five bottoms to match and good old Jasco sent me instead one UNISEX top and five pair of UNISEX pants, not the nice Men's Premium ones I ordered. And the pants. Yeah, they were black.

My Dell Axim background image (Beth sunbathing on my massage table circa 2004):

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Finished On The Beach. What an incredibly sad and simultaneously uplifting book. I knew I would have to fight to finish it, and I did. But I'm glad I did. Next up: Susan Faludi's "Stiffed: The Betrayal of the American Male"

Monday, June 12, 2006

Weird toys

Beth and I were shopping for Christmas presents for our young nephews last year and stumbled across these and I remember thinking "whoa... do they really need a port-a-potty crew toy?" They were bizarre, if still pretty neat. Then just recently I found a website with a fellow who commented similarly about them. Click below:

Weird Playmobil Toys

Testing moblog!

Testing moblog!

Sunday, June 11, 2006


Reading: On the Beach by Nevil Shute
Listning: "Where'd you go?" by Mike Shinoda (Fort Minor)
Watching: Prozac Nation (about how you'd expect, if you know who wrote it)
Playing: Hitman: Blood Money. Pretty much done with it, for the moment.
Working: Getting ready for the job move. Trying to tell people about Red Ivy Afternoon.

I'm happy to report that the fourth New Year's Resolution has been completed!

I gave my notice last week that I'm no longer going to be a medical assistant! I've been offered a job as a full-time massage therapist! The potential is there to make a good deal more money than I do now, so that's promising. Beth and I are looking at getting a more permanent living arrangement in the semi-near future, so it couldn't have come at a better time for us.