...
Yeesh...
Man, what a week.
I got home from work today, and immediately crashed in my living room. The furthest I've strayed since then was my bedroom, back and forth a few times with intermediary stops in the kitchen and bathroom. And I predict this will continue throughout the weekend, until Sunday when I am going to my friend Michelle's Super Bowl party. Guaranteed good time, but until then I'm staying at home, chillin'. Sitting right now with a cup of peppermint tea, listening to Do Make Say Think, just got finished watching The Island. Now, I don't want to get into a whole thing about this, but given my prior ambivalence to Michael Bay's triflings, I was kind of surprised to find that I didn't hate it. And Scarlett looked like she should be illegal, as usual.
I have been thinking a lot about ninjas lately. I once heard that they used to eat mint leaves while camping in the wild. Someone told me that once... I think it was a dragon. Plus, they did, made, said, and thought things. And Japan is a cluster of four islands. See where my mind is?
So what went on this week to render me so vegetative and philosophical (not to mention, link-happy)? Well...
MONDAY
After our brief staff meeting at the end of the day, almost my entire work crew went out for our studio coordinator Paula's birthday. We hit a Chinese place that gives you free wine all throughout your meal. The inevitable catch? The wine is luke warm boxes of Diamond Lake Chablis. Shi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ty!!!!! [ed: While researching (unsuccessfully) Diamond Lake Chablis, I unwittingly discovered that you can buy caskets and urns at Costco. Does that seem creepy to anyone else?] After that we played foosball and beer pong at a place called Jake's Dilemma. Eventually we got thrown out because some idiot climbed up on the sound booth and fucked with the radio controls. I'll let you infer who that idiot was.
TUESDAY
Battling the hangover and cursing the alarm clock for existing, I went to work and worked on my spec trailer for Sin City. Thank God for tea. Look for that trailer soon on Grandiose Video!
I knew I had to rally for class that night, but what I didn't know was that a brutal 45 minute beating at the hands (and feet) of two of the higher belt students. Followed by a sound-but-educational thrashing by my sensei. That means he would kick me in the stomach, but then say "keep your elbow down!" Or punch my head and say "keep your fist up!" After that he called me up to demonstrate my three kata (24 Basic Moves, Pinan Shonan, Pinan Nidan, for those curious). When I had thrown the final high block in Nidan, my sole thought was: "Did I just become an orange belt?" Bow out, yellow belt off, orange belt on, sensei imparts some words of wisdom, bow again, people clap, and like that, I'm an orange belt. I came home and just about died, but I fell asleep smiling. We'll also let this serve as the Karate Belt Status Update post everyone's been so strongly anticipating.
[cough]
WEDNESDAY
More of the same at work. I went out to lunch, across the street to Little Italy pizza, and read most of Fahrenheit 451.
That night, I went to my friend Jackie's new place to help her hang some stuff on her walls. That "stuff" amounted to a small plastic shelf and a towel hook in her bathroom. And for just that, she bought me dumplings from a place down the street. Spicy Thai chicken and basil with spicy peanut dipping sauce, yo. With miso soup. Guess who got the nice end of that deal? I also met her new roommate, and refrained from ranting on why I absolutely fucking despise Sex and the City. I generally don't like to rant in front of people unless they know me a little better.
THURSDAY
Ohhhh, Thursday... You hideous bitch goddess of a day... Work was work, Mishel and I went out for Italian. There was a false fire alarm while we were out, so everyone stood outside the building while we ate. The Mish and I are just that good... All work stops when we leave the building. You cannot stop us.
That night was the killer. The Drug Fun Rage Ghost show. Normally, I would have a sound recording, or at the very least a photo or 178. But this show... See, here's the thing. Not a lot of people understand the Drug Fun Rage Ghost experience. We're equally awesome and terrible, and we alternate between the two constantly. We typically don't plan much of anything when we play a show, which is extremely rarely, because... here's the gag... we're not really a band! See why we're the greatest thing, ever? And why we have captured the essence of rock and roll spontaneity better than any band, ever, in the history of human hearing? And simultaneously the worst thing happening in music today? We're all that and more, everything and nothing, like life. But the booking guy didn't get that. So when we got up and did what we do, and it was one of our decidedly more... what's the word I'm looking for here... horrendous outings, he was a tad irate. He was already sick of us by that point for not having a band website, not having any songs as an example of what we sound like (did I mention we don't really have any songs at all?) and not bringing amps to the venue. Which, incidentally, was a problem we solved in five seconds by asking the sound guy if we could plug directly into the PA, and he said we could. See, Pete the Booking Guy? Relax. The answers are out there. But you're the establishment, and we're rock and roll.
FRIDAY
This was a painful, painful morning. Not only was I feeling the brunt of my prior night's association with Misters Daniel and Guinness, but three days worth of that orange belt soreness had set in powerfully. It's all part of the training.
Work was again, somewhat shockingly, the same. I'm sensing a pattern here... The morning was, however, broken up by a nice visit from Mike Pomranz, of Drug Fun Rage Ghost fame. His buddy's girlfriend heartlessly threw him out at 9am after minimal sleep and heroic alcohol consumption, so he needed a place to crash for awhile. He stopped in to the office to pick up my keys, still good and toasted, and spent some futile minutes trying to score a date with Paula. Heh heh. We also sat and watched the short film he just finished, on the life of Billy Schulz. Who is Billy Schulz? WATCH THE FILM HERE and find out. He was still at my place after I had endured the nine hour fist shake at the slower-than-death clock that was today. We talked about life. And all that.
And that's that. I'm going to bed. Don't wake me til Sunday.
*****N*T*G*****
Never hesitate to comment!
I got home from work today, and immediately crashed in my living room. The furthest I've strayed since then was my bedroom, back and forth a few times with intermediary stops in the kitchen and bathroom. And I predict this will continue throughout the weekend, until Sunday when I am going to my friend Michelle's Super Bowl party. Guaranteed good time, but until then I'm staying at home, chillin'. Sitting right now with a cup of peppermint tea, listening to Do Make Say Think, just got finished watching The Island. Now, I don't want to get into a whole thing about this, but given my prior ambivalence to Michael Bay's triflings, I was kind of surprised to find that I didn't hate it. And Scarlett looked like she should be illegal, as usual.
I have been thinking a lot about ninjas lately. I once heard that they used to eat mint leaves while camping in the wild. Someone told me that once... I think it was a dragon. Plus, they did, made, said, and thought things. And Japan is a cluster of four islands. See where my mind is?
So what went on this week to render me so vegetative and philosophical (not to mention, link-happy)? Well...
MONDAY
After our brief staff meeting at the end of the day, almost my entire work crew went out for our studio coordinator Paula's birthday. We hit a Chinese place that gives you free wine all throughout your meal. The inevitable catch? The wine is luke warm boxes of Diamond Lake Chablis. Shi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ty!!!!! [ed: While researching (unsuccessfully) Diamond Lake Chablis, I unwittingly discovered that you can buy caskets and urns at Costco. Does that seem creepy to anyone else?] After that we played foosball and beer pong at a place called Jake's Dilemma. Eventually we got thrown out because some idiot climbed up on the sound booth and fucked with the radio controls. I'll let you infer who that idiot was.
TUESDAY
Battling the hangover and cursing the alarm clock for existing, I went to work and worked on my spec trailer for Sin City. Thank God for tea. Look for that trailer soon on Grandiose Video!
I knew I had to rally for class that night, but what I didn't know was that a brutal 45 minute beating at the hands (and feet) of two of the higher belt students. Followed by a sound-but-educational thrashing by my sensei. That means he would kick me in the stomach, but then say "keep your elbow down!" Or punch my head and say "keep your fist up!" After that he called me up to demonstrate my three kata (24 Basic Moves, Pinan Shonan, Pinan Nidan, for those curious). When I had thrown the final high block in Nidan, my sole thought was: "Did I just become an orange belt?" Bow out, yellow belt off, orange belt on, sensei imparts some words of wisdom, bow again, people clap, and like that, I'm an orange belt. I came home and just about died, but I fell asleep smiling. We'll also let this serve as the Karate Belt Status Update post everyone's been so strongly anticipating.
[cough]
WEDNESDAY
More of the same at work. I went out to lunch, across the street to Little Italy pizza, and read most of Fahrenheit 451.
That night, I went to my friend Jackie's new place to help her hang some stuff on her walls. That "stuff" amounted to a small plastic shelf and a towel hook in her bathroom. And for just that, she bought me dumplings from a place down the street. Spicy Thai chicken and basil with spicy peanut dipping sauce, yo. With miso soup. Guess who got the nice end of that deal? I also met her new roommate, and refrained from ranting on why I absolutely fucking despise Sex and the City. I generally don't like to rant in front of people unless they know me a little better.
THURSDAY
Ohhhh, Thursday... You hideous bitch goddess of a day... Work was work, Mishel and I went out for Italian. There was a false fire alarm while we were out, so everyone stood outside the building while we ate. The Mish and I are just that good... All work stops when we leave the building. You cannot stop us.
That night was the killer. The Drug Fun Rage Ghost show. Normally, I would have a sound recording, or at the very least a photo or 178. But this show... See, here's the thing. Not a lot of people understand the Drug Fun Rage Ghost experience. We're equally awesome and terrible, and we alternate between the two constantly. We typically don't plan much of anything when we play a show, which is extremely rarely, because... here's the gag... we're not really a band! See why we're the greatest thing, ever? And why we have captured the essence of rock and roll spontaneity better than any band, ever, in the history of human hearing? And simultaneously the worst thing happening in music today? We're all that and more, everything and nothing, like life. But the booking guy didn't get that. So when we got up and did what we do, and it was one of our decidedly more... what's the word I'm looking for here... horrendous outings, he was a tad irate. He was already sick of us by that point for not having a band website, not having any songs as an example of what we sound like (did I mention we don't really have any songs at all?) and not bringing amps to the venue. Which, incidentally, was a problem we solved in five seconds by asking the sound guy if we could plug directly into the PA, and he said we could. See, Pete the Booking Guy? Relax. The answers are out there. But you're the establishment, and we're rock and roll.
FRIDAY
This was a painful, painful morning. Not only was I feeling the brunt of my prior night's association with Misters Daniel and Guinness, but three days worth of that orange belt soreness had set in powerfully. It's all part of the training.
Work was again, somewhat shockingly, the same. I'm sensing a pattern here... The morning was, however, broken up by a nice visit from Mike Pomranz, of Drug Fun Rage Ghost fame. His buddy's girlfriend heartlessly threw him out at 9am after minimal sleep and heroic alcohol consumption, so he needed a place to crash for awhile. He stopped in to the office to pick up my keys, still good and toasted, and spent some futile minutes trying to score a date with Paula. Heh heh. We also sat and watched the short film he just finished, on the life of Billy Schulz. Who is Billy Schulz? WATCH THE FILM HERE and find out. He was still at my place after I had endured the nine hour fist shake at the slower-than-death clock that was today. We talked about life. And all that.
And that's that. I'm going to bed. Don't wake me til Sunday.
*****N*T*G*****
Never hesitate to comment!
posted by JMP at 1:15 AM
2 Comments:
dude, don't dis on my futile minutes. i was damn close.
i'll get her next time.
p.s. thanks for the Billy Schulz shot out too!
Indeed, Grasshopper... Next time...
If you ever get a better compressed version of Billy, let me know, I'll update that link.
Post a Comment
<< Home