mrsensitiv.com

With this entry, I’m actually caught up! At least until tomorrow, when I’ll no doubt slip again.

From October 9, 2000 12:30 am.

Back in the real world, part one.

As I left my Grandma’s house I was suddenly dipped back into the real world with an unexpected phone call. I checked my cellphone as I left Grandma’s to see if anyone called, and noticed my sister had. I checked the message she left, and it was a normal, “Just wanted to see if you made it back and how the ride was. If you write me an email I don’t know if I’ll check it, so give me a call if you can.” I called her and when she answered I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying. I said, “Hello?” She was crying. “What’s wrong?” Between sobs she explained to me that she and Eric were breaking up, that he had flipped out on her and told her that when she came home from work the next day she wouldn’t be able to get in the house and she should just pack up and go to Utah, since that’s what she wants to do anyway. I probed for an explanation for this, and it sounds like it was a stupid situation that just compounded and exploded. Angie was probably being mean, but now she was just hurt. Eric continued to be mean, saying things that he didn’t mean and things that he shouldn’t say, just childish insults. I talked to her all the way to my house, about a 25 minute ride. I didn’t really know what to say, so I listened, tried to gather information. I told her that I would do whatever it would take to help her, even if that involved filling up the gas tank again and heading down to LA that night. I told her I’d take up a collection to get a truck to get her ass home right away if need be. I really didn’t know what to do. I wish she lived closer so I could just drive across town and scoop her up and help her right away. Every time I hear my sister cry I tear up. I hate when she’s sad or when she’s hurting, and it also angered me to see Eric acting this way because I like him and have liked him since I met him. We got off the phone and I just thought, “Well, back into the real world before I even hit the door.”

Later that night she called me and said that they were acting like adults and speaking in civil terms to each other and not acting like babies. She wanted to let me know that Eric is not a bad person and doesn’t want me to hate him even though he said stupid things, because everyone says stupid things and acts stupid when they are angry. I told her I wouldn’t hate him and I don’t. I don’t like that he said mean things to Angie and that he acted stupid, but every acts stupid when they are angry, especially when they are angry at the person they love. She did tell me that they are still going to break up and she will be coming back to Utah, but she doesn’t know for sure when. She will be here next weekend to have her wisdom teeth taken out, so we’ll see what’s happening then.

Back in the real world, part two.

I talked to Dan. Dan is my best friend and I rent a basement apartment in his house, if anyone reading this is not hip to that info. Dan is the manager of a restaurant, and the restaurant is being bought out by a rib joint. When I first talked to him about this last week it sounded like things were cool and like he’d be up for making a lot more money. Now things have changed, and he’s afraid things are looking shady. I guess they had a meeting with the new assistant manager to talk about the new plans and what not, a meeting which Dan was not invited to. The new assistant is also on the schedule for six weeks of training, and Dan is only scheduled for two. All of these things are making Dan wonder what is going on and what they have in store for him, and it sounds like he’s basically decided to leave the company after the takeover is complete. If he does this he may get to a point where he has to sell his house. This is hard news for the unemployed guy in the basement. I live here because the rent is dirt cheap, way cheaper than I can get anywhere else. Dan tells me he’s thinking of just packing it in and moving to LA (I have no idea why he’d want to live in that shithole), which makes me reconsider my fear of moving to Portland. I mean hell, if I end up needing to look for a house and a job, why look here? The one thing about this is I had a meeting with my mom and my aunt today about a business we are trying to start. I may have mentioned this earlier, but basically it’s just investing in real estate. I’m pretty much running the show on that, so I’ve got to stick around because I have people to back me up, and I wouldn’t have that elsewhere. I need to at least stay until I can pay off my bills, then once I’m debt free I have all the options in the world and can do what I want. So chaos is in the air here in Ogden. Me unemployed, Dan considering going the same route, the future of mine and his housing situation up in the air, it’s all quite an interesting mess. Plus my sis will be moving home soon, with all the chaos down in LA. Man, the vacation is really over isn’t it? And reality can hit you like a ton of shit sometimes. Am I starting to wonder if I made a bad choice in quitting my job? Absolutely not. I have not been this happy and content and without worry in years. Strange, isn’t it?

From October 9, 2000 12am

Okay, now that I’ve finished typing in all of the stuff I wrote over the last week or so I can finally pop back into the present. On the trip home I learned that Idaho has one redeeming quality: cheap cigarettes. $22 bucks for a carton. I haven’t spent that little for cigarettes since ’98 probably. And like all things, we have the government to blame for that outrageous ass fucking. Here’s how it works: first we get addicted to tobacco (most of us knowing that we will get addicted, so fuck lawsuits and all the lousy weasel ass smokers that participated because they chose a product that gives them cancer, like no shit, you’re putting smoke in your lungs asshole), a crop which is SUBSIDIZED BY THE GOVERNMENT – THAT’S YOUR TAX DOLLARS FRIEND! We pay for the cigarettes plus hefty taxes on the cigarettes because the government has decided that instead of fixing the problems in our country they will pretend to do something good and levy a sin tax, notice you non-smokers taxes have not gone down a cent as they continue to collect extra money from us poor suckers who are mindlessly addicted to burning leaves. Then a couple years ago righteous indignation takes over once again and states begin to sue tobacco companies to recover funds that they claim were spent on taking care of lung cancer patients through medicaid and medicare, programs that shouldn’t exist anyway. I don’t see them suing irresponsible parents who have too many kids when welfare has to take care of them. No, that wouldn’t get them reelected, would it. So the states start winning these lawsuits, the tobacco companies have to pay out a whole bunch of money to states (none of that money is going back to the smokers or families of dead smokers) and the cigarette companies just raise the prices. They are not penalized for making a harmful product, the people who are addicted to the harmful product are made to pay for it! Plus the goverment, state and federal, raised cigarette taxes a few thousand times in between there. Less than three years ago I was paying half what I do now. Isn’t it interesting how commenting on getting cheap cigarettes in Idaho turns into a huge rant on corrupt government ass fucking tactics?

I noticed on my trip that when on a road trip one can crave music like a pregnant woman craves pickles or something. I take 72 cds with me on the road, probably didn’t listen to 50 of them, and still was left craving Black Sabbath because I heard N.I.B. twice on the radio while I was out. So now I’m listening to them and satisfying my two day old urge.

The trip home was smooth. It’s interesting how when driving the daylight hours seem to pass much more quickly than the nighttime hours. I left at 6:30am Pacific Time and was to my Grandma’s house to pick up Cosmo, my dog, by 7pm Mountain Time. My Grandma cooked me dinner, which was exactly what I needed, since I generally don’t eat while I’m on the road, hoping to turn that sacrifice of food (replaced with many many cigarettes) into a quicker arrival time. Cosmo was very excited to see me, and was excited to get home, although I’m quite sure she didn’t have too rough a time staying with my Grandma. I went into the bathroom and the dog stood outside the door and whined, like, “You just got here, where are you going now?” Big baby. This journal entry will get very long if I don’t stop now, so I will do that and start another.

I found out later that while I was gone, Cosmo escaped and my poor elderly grandma had to chase her down the street. Sorry, Grandma.

From October 7, 2000. 2am.

Well, I’ve come to the end. The last day of my journey. Always depressing. Actually today was pretty nice. We went to the Heathman, which is a hotel with a swank restaurant and bar. They had live Jazz, which was the reason for going there. They charged $7.50 for a dessert, a very small one at that. Bastards. I’m trying to just rationalize it as paying for the music and the experience and not for their tiny ass piece of cake. It was nice though and the music was good. Art one day, Jazz the next. Things I can’t get at home. Then we wandered downtown for a while, finally ending up at some little bar called Rialto. We shot the shit there for a couple of hours and came home. I spent too much money between paying for ingredients for lasagne I made for the house and the rest of the night. I guess I can condsider the lasagne payment for letting me stay there for the week. Overall I haven’t spent much here, or on the whole trip for that matter. Now I get to spend the whole ride home wondering what I’ll do with my life. And speaking of that ride home, it starts in about four hours, so I’d better go to bed.

Being a non-smoker for several years now, I can understand why people don’t like to be around smoke. However I still think these guys were a bunch of fucking crybabies. But they did all die of cancer from the second hand smoke they breathed in that night, so maybe they had a point. Doesn’t mean they needed to be dicks about it.

From October 6, 2000. 3:30 am.

Before anything I just want to hurry and say that although I like everyone I’ve met up here, Jenn’s friends, like Jenn, are the biggest bunch of anti-smoking sissies I’ve ever met. For the most part I try to be respectful with my smoking, I’ll smoke away from people that don’t like it if I can, or at least cut back. I try to keep smoke from going in their faces, all of the sudden the direction of the breeze changes and they have to smell it for a second and they all start crying about it. Bill Hicks is right about non-smokers, but I’ve always known that.

Tonight we went to “First Thursday,” where all of the downtown art galleries (there are many) are open late and most do their openings on this night. It was pretty impressive, people were out in droves. It was like this were an unusual event, but this goes on every month. I like a town that supports the arts, and this place certainly does. Most of the galleries seemed to have photography exibits, I’m not sure what was up with that. One place, and I don’t think it’s an actual gallery, I think it’s an electronics store or a repair shop or something, had the best one in my opinion. I believe it was meant as one piece, and it was just a lot of photos clipped to a running wire web. These photos were far more interesting, just pictures of people, than the professionally framed and steralized art in most galleries. The best artists though were on the streets. There were artists lined up on the sidewalks with their paintings and their crafts set up. I felt that their art was better, much more interesting, than the art in galleries, plus they were at prices that people just wandering the city could actually afford. Of course I’m also attracted to the underground punk ethic of just creating art and then setting up wherever to sell it. It’s nice that this place is able to support it. Well it’s pretty fucking late, so I’ll hit the sack. I was looking through the paper and saw a credit card company advertising my old job, so it’s nice to know I’d be a shoe in for some job if I wanted to move here. I hate that job though. Night.

From October 5, 2000. 1 am.

Today was pretty fucking boring, so I won’t get into it much. We went to the Rose Garden (the actual garden where roses are grown, not that big domed joint where the Trailblazers play), which is always pretty cool. All I do when I’m up here is talk about how cool Portland is. It seems that a lot of times when I mention moving to Portland Jenn says, “It rains too much. It would depress you.” I dont’ know if she’s just looking out for me because she knows I get depressed with inclement weather or if she doesn’t want me to live here. I think the latter. I get the impression that she wants to leave Utah in Utah and wants to have her own seperate life here. That’s not unreasonable. Besides, she has nothing to worry about. As I mentioned before, I’m a big wuss.

I have no internet access up here, which is weird for me. That means all of these journal entries get updated on Saturday night (note from the present: it’s actually Sunday) when I get home. I miss my doggie. I’ll be happy to see her smiling face when I get back. I think that dog is the love of my life (not that way you fucking perverts). She’s like my daughter or something. I miss her more than any person when I leave town. I’ve actually had times where I’ve missed her greatly just while I was at work for the day. I’m crazy. A little cuteness goes a long way I guess.

I’ve been reading the book Abel gave me, called Man of Destiny by Michael L. Gross. It’s very good. Abel was right in knowing I’d like it. It’s basically about politics and a guy who tries to change things. It’s pretty inspiring actually. I’m going to have to have a discussion with Abel when I finish it, which should be before I get home. It’s interesting how different Abel and I used to think our political views were because of our lifelong party affiliations, he a Republican and I a former Democrat, now with no party affiliation but I tend to lean Libertarian. Now we’ve realized that we agree on many more issues than we disagree. I think this is kind of what’s going on throughout the country. People don’t realize that on many basic issues they are the same: just reason in the face of an unreasonable, oversized, and power hungry government. Basically the entire system needs to be overhauled, beginning with the elimination of the electoral college. What an unfair and outdated idea. I figured years ago when I learned what it was, but no one seems to take action to fix it. We need to come up with a reasonable way to change things. I don’t know how to do these things without money. At least it gives me something to write about if nothing else. Well, I’m tapped for tonight.

Ha. Who’d have known that a month from when I wrote this we’d actually have a president elected by the electoral college that lost the popular majority. Also, definitely not a libertarian anymore. Libertarians are fucking nuts. The thing about Libertarians is that they have some sort of misguided faith in humanity, where they believe that everyone will at all times act in their own best interest if only the government will get out of the way. True, many will. Many will also act in their own best interest to the detriment of others, and others won’t act at all. It’s easy to say, “Fuck em! Survival of the fittest!” but it’s not particularly effective. I’ve come to realize that it’s okay to have facets and sometimes conflicting thoughts on life and politics. Life isn’t simple. People aren’t simple. There’s nothing wrong with believing for instance that single payer health care would be the best thing for the country, but also understanding that the people who make our laws are – for the most part – unqualified to actually handle doing something like that correctly.

From October 4, 2000. 2:30 am.

Well today was a pretty cool day. I slept like a baby last night. I woke up once when every dog in the neighborhood decided to start howling. I finally dragged out of bed at about 11:30 or so. Jenn was supposed to be home about 2:30, so I got showered and everything and then decided to finally start reading the book Abel gave me about two months ago. Jenn didn’t actually get home until 3:30, but at least I got some reading done. We went downtown to pick up her roommate Andy from work. Usually she takes the bus, so Jenn thought it would be nice to pick her up and get her home at a reasonable time for once. Once we got back Lisa was already cooking away for Tuesday night dinner. A lot of people showed up, and they were all pretty cool. Meredith came, and I adore her. Two years ago I met her for the first time when I came to visit, she was Jenn’s roommate at that time, and we just clicked immediately. She’s a wonderful and interesting person. She was working on convincing me to move to Portland. She told me I’ll be very happy here. She has this friend who is moving up who makes clothing and wants to sell it and Mer has decided that me and this girl need to live in Portland and open up a shop. I told Mer it doesn’t take much convincing to make me want to move here, but I don’t know if I’d actually do it. She told me that since I’m unemployed there is no better time to go. I know, it’s time. I’m such a wuss. I love Portland. Why don’t I move here? Because I’m a lazy frightened pussy. Mer recently realized she’s bisexual and her girlfriend Sara showed up at the house too. She’s also great. We had a lot of fun, and on Thursday night it’s the first Thursday of the month, so that means all of the art galleries are open late, so we’re all going to hook up and go there. Most of the house cleared out and Jenn’s roommates all decided to go see “Gone in 60 Seconds” at the two dollar movies. Jenn didn’t go because some guy she’s been making out with, among other things, was there and she was feeling a bit saucy. So she stayed back and I took off with the roommates. I don’t think I come up here for Jenn as much as I used to. I think I just come up because I know I’m going to have a good time and I dream of living in Portland. I was in her room to get to my room when I got back, but the van didn’t seem to be a rockin’. I don’t think the guy is here, in fact I don’t even know if Jenn is here. Well I think it’s about time to go to bed. I guess I don’t have any deep thinking today. I watched part of the debates. I think watching George W. Bush will make you stupider. Be careful.

From October 3, 2000. 1:30 am

Okay, NBC has this show called Titans, which they advertise as a “guilty pleasure”. They’re basically saying, “Listen, we know this show sucks and has no artistic value at all, but you’re probably going to watch it anyway. We’ll show boobies.” I don’t know whether to admire them for at least admitting it, or to loathe them for not even trying to make something that is quality. Why am I not asleep yet? Shut the fuck up Jason.

From October 3, 2000. 1 am.

The world is flat. It has to be, or surely would have made it back to where I started in the time it took to drive to Portland. That I-5 is one long motherfuckin’ road! The first eight or nine hours actually went by very quickly, surprisingly quick. The other eight or so hours (seventeen hours total) weren’t really that bad, but I was getting a little loopy at the end. I never realized how funny music that goes “cha-cha-cha” is, not music that actually says the words cha cha cha, but just the music…you know what I’m saying. When I was flipping through the stations I ran across that music and laughed for at least ten miles. I had a lot of time to think while I was driving. I wish I could remember all of it, but my brain has become green Jell-O. I listened to a lot of comedy and spoken word stuff. Bill Hicks. Jello Biafra. Both brilliant. Listening to Jello Biafra makes me want to yell about politics, but he also inspires me. He makes me want to do something with my life. I’m just scribbling out random things here. What do you think when you see someone who is actually a Gore or Bush supporter? Like one of those people with the sign in their yard and everything. Bumperstickers. What the fuck? How inspired are these people? Why not get a bumpersticker that says, “I want everything to stay exactly the same.” I’ll talk more about this later probably. Carl emailed me. He said he’d been reading the old journal here and he notices I seem to want out of Utah. I don’t know how much I do, but I get this way whenever I leave town. All I know is as soon as I caught that glimpse of Portland, like the city and the bridges and everything I just started smiling. I love this place. Jenn’s house is super bitchen’. It’s huge and it seems to be in a cool area. I have my own little room with a BED! No fucking couch! Happy times! They only pay like $1300 a month for it. That’s dirty cheap for a place like this. How cool. Well, I’ve melted. Damn, I smell like smoke big time. My car smells like a cheap Vegas motel, believe me. I know. And speaking of that shitty motel, they overcharged me. I have to call them tomorrow and bitch. Okay, now I’m going to see how wonderful a bed can be. Woo hoo!

From October 1, 2000. 2 am.

Angie has been stressing out because she really wants to come up with something for us to do in the last couple of days that I’m here. It’s hard to do stuff when you’re broke. We ended up going to see the re-released Exorcist. That was actually the first time I’ve ever seen the Exorcist, if you can believe it. Not that bad, although I don’t think I’d call it the scariest movie ever made. It’s amazing how much fear is put into a movie simply by the music. That’s why I still say Blair Witch was the shit, because it did all the scaring without a spooky soundrack. I don’t think I really have anything interesting to say. Monday morning I’m leaving for Portland. It’ll be good to get to a different place, but it kind of sucks to know that this will be the last leg of my trip, and then I’ll have to go home and learn to be a normal working person again