Saturday, September 14, 2002
Licking damage |5:01 PM| My tongue is destroyed from another session of sealing envelopes. Mailing shirts is a drag, really.
This space will soon be about cleaning my house, I'm just putting this down as a reminder.
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Friday, September 13, 2002
Hyper MacGuyver Moments |11:40 AM| The Hotrod Hillbilly's CD release party was last night, and it was a blast. The music was a shade too loud for my sensitive ears, so I had to take the occasional break outside, but more on that in a second. I wish to brag about my incredible banner hanging skills.
The hillbillies had a large vinyl banner they wanted to hang behind the stage, and since Opal and I are friends with the band we offered to help hang it. The problem was that two nails were required to hang this thing, and only one was present in the wall. There were no hammers, no nails, no spikes, nothing could be used to secure it. I tried burying Vorpal's small pocket knife into the wood, but it simply wasn't stable enough. Vorpal ran out to a telephone pole, pried an old rusted nail from it, and delivered it back to me. It was far too twisted to use to secure the banner, and I couldn't hammer at it with a cinder block. Time was running short, as the band was about to play. Out of options, I yanked the knot open on one of my sneakers, pulled several inches of shoelace, and burned it off with my UberLighter. Meanwhile, Vorpal is laughing his ass off at my quick thinking, and he holds the banner up as I tie 3 swift knots. We flee the stage as the Satan's Cheerleaders lead the band in for their big intro.
Ah, the Satan's Cheerleaders. Adding an air of unreality to any situation they are a part of. On my first break outside the club, an elderly couple (55-65 years old, really conservative looking) walked by. The husband stopped and gestured at the poster "The Hotrod Hillbillies? What do you suppose they are?" he asked. Since I was less than 2 feet away, I got his attention, and began describing the band, along with pitching the idea that they should go in and see them.
"Yeah, it's a rock-a-billy band with a bit more rock and a little less billy, they're having a CD release party, and if you buy it at the door, you get the CD for half price!"
I had them sold on the idea, and they were walking towards the door when they suddenly noticed the Cheerleaders. His wife asked loudly "Who are they? Are they supposed to be cheerleaders?" My response was a bit vague.
Me: "They're the *cough*mumble* Cheerleaders"
Wife: "Who?"
Me: "The Satan's Cheerleaders!"
Wife: "eh?"
Me: "The SATAN'S Cheerleaders!"
Wife: "Oh! Satan!"
That's about the same time the cheerleaders came out, and said hi to everyone (they are in fact "Big sweethearts"). It was also at this point that the wife noticed the 666 emblazoned across the chests of the SC's, and said "Honey! Let's go!", dragging hubbie away. Damn. Well, all for the best I suppose, as their heads would have exploded had they actually entered the club.
On the same break outside, I ran into Emily, who you may recall as the "Fork Tongued Chick" from earlier posts. I'm now invited to a barbecue at her place in the near future. Peculiar times.
So, a fun evening of dancing like an idiot, dealing with various "missions" and random encounters. It was worth the 4:45am bed time, I think.
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Thursday, September 12, 2002
Whoops. |10:15 PM| Despite what the date above may say, this is really an entry that covers September 10th.
For reasons that will become a lot more clear in a week or so, my buddy Joe and I needed a bunch of unusual supplies. We've been working on filming a particular special effect, which involves a "squib" (pack of blood and explosives) to simulate blood spray. This past tuesday was the first chance both of us had to go out at the same time and grab these supplies, and we started making the rounds a little after 7pm. Our first stop was Radio Shack, where in the small components area, we spent a great deal of time examining wires, momentary switches, bulbs, and other assorted electronics gear. I was dressed relatively normal (but I was twitchy as always), Joe was wearing a wife beater, a bandanna, and a chain wallet. We both looked peculiar in our own way, and here we were buying a bunch of odd components from Radio Shack, with cash. Out of habit, I gave the proper name/address/phone number to the checkout clerk. We went next door and asked about flashbulbs, then left the mall. It was on exiting that I realized "Hey, this is surely the WORST possible day in the history of the U.S.A. to be buying wiring etc.
Did I mention I had an arrest warrant out for me?
From the mall we went to various other stores, and at the end of our trips had we been pulled over and searched, it would have been nigh impossible to explain the contents of the car. These included: Wiring, bulbs, switches, batteries, hand tools, a realistic toy gun, unlubed condoms, and an insectiside sprayer. The gun and condoms were purchased at the grocery store, and were mixed in with Joe's normal groceries. We also used one of those "U-check-out" lanes. I'm just glad we didn't buy the gun and condoms seperately, and I'm sure an alarm would have gone off if "rope" and "polaroid camera" had also been on that order.
With my arrest warrant running around, and a the small chance that a nervous clerk might just mention my name to the non emergency line of the Austin P.D. I half expected to be greeted by a cop or two when I went home. Luckily, I did not spend the night in jail, and fully intend to clear my name this weekend.
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Tuesday, September 10, 2002
|11:57 AM| Tommorow is the big anniversery, isn't it? It's like the oppossite of Christmas. There's a lot of buildup, there's a lot of worry, pervasive media coverage and it's all anyone can really talk about.
In answer to the traditional question, "where were you when you heard?", I was at work. I got the call from a coworker in the car, and I verified it using any means at my disposal. I dropped a quick email to some friends who may have been just out of the loop as I was, and started looking for info.
I spent the whole day watching a tiny, crappy TV that we sneaked into the office. The internet was overwhelmed, information was sparse. I went from site to site, just looking for answers, and I watched as the towers fell. I don't want to go on and on, just about everything that can be said has been said, and more eloquently by other people. I just wanted to get my personal reaction to "one year later" down someplace. It's just a reminder, it's not a full record. The incompleteness of it allows me to fill it what I "should have written" in my head, and serves as a better memory hook than trying to write it all out.
I didn't think I should write one of these, but I saw a couple things that made me decide to write it all down. One was a woman walking around in a field, outside an office building. She was walking through the flowers, carrying her shoes, clearly trying to have an idyllic moment. I was stuck in traffic, so I had time to study her movements, notice this confused look on her face, she was waiting for something to happen. By just breaking the norms and dancing through the blue bells she hoped to suddenly be made free, or relaxed, or at ease. I would have bet good money she worked in the office building that sat on the lot in which those flowers grew. I thought she was doing a great job at trying to relax, even if she didn't seem to be getting any closer to enlightenment.
The other things I saw were the usual ads for Lasique and other cosmetic surgeries that were having a 15% off sale in September.
Why did these trigger this entry? Back in the weeks after the attacks, people didn't seem to bitch about stupid shit nearly as much or at all. Everyone was so preoccupied with their fear and the desire to "live fuller lives" that the normal crap festival we deal with on a daily basis had been thrown off. After a few weeks and months, it gradually crept back, but even today it seems people are a little more appreciative of what they have, or what they shouldn't squander. We may still want to laser away veins or listen to a new Beatles anthology, but we're also on the lookout.
Many terrible things happened that day, and many horrible things followed, that was inevitable. I'm just glad some good came of it, be it increased volunteer-ism, blood donation, what have you. I'd rather have a world where it didn't take profound acts of evil to bring everyone together, and I'm certainly not grateful for them, but I'll take what good there is to be had.
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Sunday, September 08, 2002
Catering cancelled, advetising failure. |12:15 PM|
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Licking damage |5:01 PM| My tongue is destroyed from another session of sealing envelopes. Mailing shirts is a drag, really.
This space will soon be about cleaning my house, I'm just putting this down as a reminder.
(0) comments
Friday, September 13, 2002
Hyper MacGuyver Moments |11:40 AM| The Hotrod Hillbilly's CD release party was last night, and it was a blast. The music was a shade too loud for my sensitive ears, so I had to take the occasional break outside, but more on that in a second. I wish to brag about my incredible banner hanging skills.
The hillbillies had a large vinyl banner they wanted to hang behind the stage, and since Opal and I are friends with the band we offered to help hang it. The problem was that two nails were required to hang this thing, and only one was present in the wall. There were no hammers, no nails, no spikes, nothing could be used to secure it. I tried burying Vorpal's small pocket knife into the wood, but it simply wasn't stable enough. Vorpal ran out to a telephone pole, pried an old rusted nail from it, and delivered it back to me. It was far too twisted to use to secure the banner, and I couldn't hammer at it with a cinder block. Time was running short, as the band was about to play. Out of options, I yanked the knot open on one of my sneakers, pulled several inches of shoelace, and burned it off with my UberLighter. Meanwhile, Vorpal is laughing his ass off at my quick thinking, and he holds the banner up as I tie 3 swift knots. We flee the stage as the Satan's Cheerleaders lead the band in for their big intro.
Ah, the Satan's Cheerleaders. Adding an air of unreality to any situation they are a part of. On my first break outside the club, an elderly couple (55-65 years old, really conservative looking) walked by. The husband stopped and gestured at the poster "The Hotrod Hillbillies? What do you suppose they are?" he asked. Since I was less than 2 feet away, I got his attention, and began describing the band, along with pitching the idea that they should go in and see them.
"Yeah, it's a rock-a-billy band with a bit more rock and a little less billy, they're having a CD release party, and if you buy it at the door, you get the CD for half price!"
I had them sold on the idea, and they were walking towards the door when they suddenly noticed the Cheerleaders. His wife asked loudly "Who are they? Are they supposed to be cheerleaders?" My response was a bit vague.
Me: "They're the *cough*mumble* Cheerleaders"
Wife: "Who?"
Me: "The Satan's Cheerleaders!"
Wife: "eh?"
Me: "The SATAN'S Cheerleaders!"
Wife: "Oh! Satan!"
That's about the same time the cheerleaders came out, and said hi to everyone (they are in fact "Big sweethearts"). It was also at this point that the wife noticed the 666 emblazoned across the chests of the SC's, and said "Honey! Let's go!", dragging hubbie away. Damn. Well, all for the best I suppose, as their heads would have exploded had they actually entered the club.
On the same break outside, I ran into Emily, who you may recall as the "Fork Tongued Chick" from earlier posts. I'm now invited to a barbecue at her place in the near future. Peculiar times.
So, a fun evening of dancing like an idiot, dealing with various "missions" and random encounters. It was worth the 4:45am bed time, I think.
(0) comments
Thursday, September 12, 2002
Whoops. |10:15 PM| Despite what the date above may say, this is really an entry that covers September 10th.
For reasons that will become a lot more clear in a week or so, my buddy Joe and I needed a bunch of unusual supplies. We've been working on filming a particular special effect, which involves a "squib" (pack of blood and explosives) to simulate blood spray. This past tuesday was the first chance both of us had to go out at the same time and grab these supplies, and we started making the rounds a little after 7pm. Our first stop was Radio Shack, where in the small components area, we spent a great deal of time examining wires, momentary switches, bulbs, and other assorted electronics gear. I was dressed relatively normal (but I was twitchy as always), Joe was wearing a wife beater, a bandanna, and a chain wallet. We both looked peculiar in our own way, and here we were buying a bunch of odd components from Radio Shack, with cash. Out of habit, I gave the proper name/address/phone number to the checkout clerk. We went next door and asked about flashbulbs, then left the mall. It was on exiting that I realized "Hey, this is surely the WORST possible day in the history of the U.S.A. to be buying wiring etc.
Did I mention I had an arrest warrant out for me?
From the mall we went to various other stores, and at the end of our trips had we been pulled over and searched, it would have been nigh impossible to explain the contents of the car. These included: Wiring, bulbs, switches, batteries, hand tools, a realistic toy gun, unlubed condoms, and an insectiside sprayer. The gun and condoms were purchased at the grocery store, and were mixed in with Joe's normal groceries. We also used one of those "U-check-out" lanes. I'm just glad we didn't buy the gun and condoms seperately, and I'm sure an alarm would have gone off if "rope" and "polaroid camera" had also been on that order.
With my arrest warrant running around, and a the small chance that a nervous clerk might just mention my name to the non emergency line of the Austin P.D. I half expected to be greeted by a cop or two when I went home. Luckily, I did not spend the night in jail, and fully intend to clear my name this weekend.
(0) comments
Tuesday, September 10, 2002
|11:57 AM| Tommorow is the big anniversery, isn't it? It's like the oppossite of Christmas. There's a lot of buildup, there's a lot of worry, pervasive media coverage and it's all anyone can really talk about.
In answer to the traditional question, "where were you when you heard?", I was at work. I got the call from a coworker in the car, and I verified it using any means at my disposal. I dropped a quick email to some friends who may have been just out of the loop as I was, and started looking for info.
I spent the whole day watching a tiny, crappy TV that we sneaked into the office. The internet was overwhelmed, information was sparse. I went from site to site, just looking for answers, and I watched as the towers fell. I don't want to go on and on, just about everything that can be said has been said, and more eloquently by other people. I just wanted to get my personal reaction to "one year later" down someplace. It's just a reminder, it's not a full record. The incompleteness of it allows me to fill it what I "should have written" in my head, and serves as a better memory hook than trying to write it all out.
I didn't think I should write one of these, but I saw a couple things that made me decide to write it all down. One was a woman walking around in a field, outside an office building. She was walking through the flowers, carrying her shoes, clearly trying to have an idyllic moment. I was stuck in traffic, so I had time to study her movements, notice this confused look on her face, she was waiting for something to happen. By just breaking the norms and dancing through the blue bells she hoped to suddenly be made free, or relaxed, or at ease. I would have bet good money she worked in the office building that sat on the lot in which those flowers grew. I thought she was doing a great job at trying to relax, even if she didn't seem to be getting any closer to enlightenment.
The other things I saw were the usual ads for Lasique and other cosmetic surgeries that were having a 15% off sale in September.
Why did these trigger this entry? Back in the weeks after the attacks, people didn't seem to bitch about stupid shit nearly as much or at all. Everyone was so preoccupied with their fear and the desire to "live fuller lives" that the normal crap festival we deal with on a daily basis had been thrown off. After a few weeks and months, it gradually crept back, but even today it seems people are a little more appreciative of what they have, or what they shouldn't squander. We may still want to laser away veins or listen to a new Beatles anthology, but we're also on the lookout.
Many terrible things happened that day, and many horrible things followed, that was inevitable. I'm just glad some good came of it, be it increased volunteer-ism, blood donation, what have you. I'd rather have a world where it didn't take profound acts of evil to bring everyone together, and I'm certainly not grateful for them, but I'll take what good there is to be had.
(0) comments
Sunday, September 08, 2002
Catering cancelled, advetising failure. |12:15 PM|
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