Monthly Archives: June 2011

June 23, 2011 – Song 231

I remembered the funniest thing today.

Well, funny to me anyway. ♥

Fucking bugs. Song 231.

After I lost my mind the first time and dropped out of the Philosophy department at De Paul I did something big. I packed up and I moved. All the way to North Carolina.

At the time my friend Laura lived in Raleigh with her boyfriend and one night on the phone we decided I should too. I had planned to go to State for a year and then transfer to UNC.

So off I went. Besides being a student, my friend was also a waitress at a place called Charlie Goodnights. Suddenly, I was spending my days walking through a humidity like nothing I had ever known, dodging bugs larger than I had ever seen and my nights moonlighting as an underage stowaway in a comedy club.

I lasted two weeks.

It wasn’t right. And I knew it somehow. But I needed help.

And then one morning I woke up and flipped open the handbook to figure out where my Shakespeare class was. But the book opened instead to a page containing the fees for withdrawing from the university, listed by date. That exact day was the last possible day to get a full refund. So I slammed the book shut. Literally.

That night when my friends got home I told them I was leaving, tomorrow. So, of course, we had a party. And at one point I got a mosquito bite on my leg. Fucking bugs.

The next morning the bite was as big as half a golf ball. And as the drive home went on the pain in my leg expanded. Around Indiana it hurt to stand on. My leg was full of fire from the ankle to the hip. I stayed that night in a hotel trying not to flip out.

By the time I reached my parents driveway I had no other choice but to fall out of the car yelling “Gang green! Scurvy!”, get immediately into my Mom’s car and go straight to the ER. It turned out I had blood poisoning, which simply required a shot in the ass and a couple of days with my leg up.

So there I am, a two-time college drop out, with no idea what the fuck to do, on my parent’s couch watching T.V. I was feeling pretty darn good about myself. I didn’t even call any friends to tell them I was back.

But then Poof! A couple of days later, I ran into an old friend, Bryan, at the gas station anyway. He asked what I was up to, and so, I told him the truth. “Nothing”. And then a couple of days after that, I got a call from our mutual friend, Ryan. He said since I wasn’t doing anything he thought I should come work where he worked, at Reckless Records, on Broadway.

And so, I did.

Reckless Records has been in Chicago for 22 years. And I won’t date myself too precisely here, but I will say that my first Christmas party was at Lounge Ax and at that time, I was still a stowaway.

It is what it is and you are what you are and you do what you do.

Although it feels good to think that even before you knew to look, you could still see the sign.

That town just wasn’t big enough for the both of us.

•••••••

They still play this and sell this at the Drive In Theater in Door County, WI.

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June 22, 2011 – Song 230

“Hey guys! I think I found the ocean!”

Song 230.

When I sat down to write this my dictionary screen saver, that I did not install, was set to the word Lobotomy. I know what that word means because of Nirvana. Or maybe more precisely, because once I Googled “Frances Farmer”.If you are unfamiliar with that word it is a neurosurgical procedure, that consists of cutting the connections to and from the prefrontal cortex, the anterior part of the frontal lobes of the brain. Quite the cure for pain indeed.

•••••••

I made two important decisions today. One, was that I am in a position, thanks to marvels of modern technology, to perform a large amount of my work this summer whilst at the pool.

And the other was to make an appointment with a Jungian Psychotherapist. If only poor Frances had been so lucky. It is a significantly less invasive procedure.

On the phone today I told the woman I spoke to that I had more or less decided to call due to coincidences. She just laughed and said, “That’s pretty common.”One of the things I am supposed to do before my appointment is keep track of my dreams. I told her I haven’t been dreaming, at least not often. And if I do I barely seem to remember them these days. So she told me to pay attention to other things that seem to put themselves in my path instead.

So I have been, but true to my own nature, I couldn’t resist a little Google Questing.

ANTS

Native American Meaning – Ant medicine calls to our attention patience, persistence and endurance.

Chinese Meaning – The Chinese identify the ant as “the righteous insect” and attribute orderliness, virtue, and patriotism to it; an alternate symbolism is subordination, especially that of the tireless and dutiful servant.

Islamic Meaning – Islamic tradition honors the ant as the earthly teacher of Solomon, and an embodiment of wisdom.

•••••••

Earlier tonight, while sitting in the bathtub reading, I was struck by a sentence. “I can find a perfect bee, but not a perfect me.”

I then watched as an ant stepped out of the crack where the tile meets the tub, one which I have literally dug out and re-caulked at least five times now to no avail. I don’t know why it keeps cracking. It just does.

The ant walked around dutifully for a while back and forth and around and around. Then he walked the grid of the grout like it was a sideways city. Finally, he walked over the edge of the tub and stuck his feelers in my Epson salt laden bath. He paused for a moment and then walked back up the side of the tub and promptly disappeared from where he came.

I could have smooshed him, but I just couldn’t stop laughing about what his report might be, when he gets back home.

••••••
Dear The Universe. I owe you one for this.

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June 21, 2011 – Song 229

Conundrum! Song 229.

Supergrass – Moving

For a while I couldn’t sleep.

And it sucked.

It made me feel like a nut.

But now, I can sleep, if I post a song before I try.

No matter how tired I am.

Which is funny. Sort of.

I’d try and explain that, but it’s a big pile of nonsense.

So here’s a quote instead.

“Someday it will help to remember even this.” –Virgil

I bid you Goodnight.

In theory anyway.

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I know there is a chunk of posts missing. I am a slacker. What can I say? I have them, they will be here as soon as I get off my lazy butt.

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