the naming of cats is a difficult matter
Saturday afternoon I decided I needed a new uniform. When you’re not having any luck in the world, you can’t change the world and luck is imaginary…so all you can really do is buy some new clothes and/or shave. I went to American Apparel in Scottsdale, and bought this black longsleeve shirt/sweater which when combined with my black pants and white belt, made me look a bit like a sandman from the 1976 movie “Logan’s Run.” I bought an extra small for the hell of it, but when I got home and tried it on, it was too tight(not to mention hot as balls.) So I didn’t want to go right back to the store and exchange it for a small, because I was just in there, and it would be weird. Not sure why I would get anxiety about that, but I just felt like I would appear “wishy washy” to the cashier people. Like they would give me a look like “there’s something amiss with this dude. He just bought this and now he’s returning it 5 minutes later…what a nutjob.” I mean hey, that’s what I would be thinking. So I decided to go to the Tempe American Apparel and exchange it there…which turned out to be an amazing decision, because I was rung up by the friendliest cashier person I’ve ever encountered. Not since I was in a Casino did a person look so happy to take my money…(or in this case my merchandise for exchange.) When she asked me how my day was going I gave my stock answer of “It sucks” which was true enough and she seemed taken aback by that. These customer service questions can become so routine, that I think people are not prepared when you actually give a somewhat genuine response. “That’s not the answer people usually give” she said. Indeed, and just like that she almost seemed like a friend.
I was in a bad mood most of yesterday because the internet was down, and I had a lot of emails and other crap to tend to. I tried to go to the internet cafe and they were closed! Did they go out of business? I watched “Bullitt” with Steve Mcqueen, which I haven’t seen since about 2002. He’s great in it of course…but I’m not a big fan of realism in movies(unless it’s realism of emotion or humor.) I like movies that leave some things to the imagination. Mainly I think it’s just the “realistic” hospital ER scenes that are a bit too much for a hypochondriac like me to watch. I don’t like to see THAT far into my future.
I took a long nap and woke up rather frantically at midnight, just in time to throw on my new AA sweater and head out to Casey Moore’s. Most people I knew were MIA, but strangely everything fell into place. I took the initiative and met some people I had wanted to know for a long time. After the bar closed, during the outside part.. you know, that time when everyone(mostly dudes) stands around in search of nonexistent afterparties or with the fleeting hopes that something interesting will happen, but it rarely ever does…well in that short period of time I met a girl, who agreed to go with me to meet some friends at a cafe. Only when we started driving, we decided neither of us were hungry(not to mention we didn’t find the place) and so instead we went to 24 hour Walmart(an adventure in itself) and purchased an official NCAA basketball. We then drove to a park in Tempe and played basketball until the sun started to come up. We played three games of PIG, with her winning the first game and me the next two. In reality, we were evenly matched as we both sucked about equally…but we could potentially rule as friends with practice.
Today after a brief stint hanging out at Borders reading Darwin Porter’s unsubstantiated gossip filled, unauthorized biography of Steve McQueen “The King of Cool,” I decided to go back to the Tempe American Apparel and buy another of the exact same sweater I purchased the previous day. Miraculously, the same girl was there to ring me up again. I could tell she thought it was odd I was buying a duplicate of the item I had just bought…”hmm you’re getting another black top” she muttered curiously. But I told her that the other one had turned out to be good luck, and she seemed to understand.
Let’s not question our flesh for wanting to remain flesh.
So I’m not sure how it happened, but I’m going through sort of a “viking” phase. I’ve been watching all these old viking movies like “Erik the Conqueror” with Cameron Mitchell and “The Vikings” starring Tony Curtis. And so I grew a beard, and I lift weights while watching these films and just get super excited about the prospects of “vikingdom.” I do have a lot of Norwegian in me and blue eyes so aesthetically it isn’t much of a stretch apart for the fact that I have the body of a 13 year old Nintendo Hotline Game Counselor from 1989. But haveth no fear! If it is the will of Odin, in a few weeks I shall be the equivalent of a fire breathing monster. However, don’t expect me to be rocking much in the way of viking fashions. I’ll stick to my 21st-century American Apparel retro space age outfits. I’m definitely not one of those wacky “Renaissance Fair” costume wearing weirdos even though I do wish we actually lived in a monarchy…as perhaps there wouldn’t be so many billboard advertisements. I’ll keep you all updated on my viking status as we all know how significant this is in the grand scheme of things.
men on the make can go jump in the lake
Just woke up from an antihistamine induced coma. Fell asleep watching “Earthquake”(1974) starring Charlton Heston..a classic with a tear jerker ending. Apparently there actually was an earthquake today(yesterday,) but I certainly didn’t notice it. I went to my grandma’s to eat rack of lamb, and then to American Apparel where I purchased an overpriced white denim jacket, which is officially the most trump tight piece of clothing that I own. I wonder how long I can go without spilling wine on it and ruining it.
Saturday night was “Cheap Thrills” which was jam packed and with all the best people. It was about the most fun I could hope for without the presence of any romance or overt sexual activity. Some band played there that I have never heard of but must have been semi-popular.
Nothing too eventful happened except that Danielle Stanley was there but then she saw someone get beat up so she got disgusted and left. Also, they kind of have those oversized wine glasses there so I was drinking wine and got a little out of control on the dance floor. When I got home it was pushing 3:30 am so I had a bowl of chocolate cheerios and passed out with all my clothes on.
My allergies are kind of going buck wild on me. I’ve been having some mondo-bizarro dreams lately, which I think are the result of antihistamines. Like I had a dream that I was in some gigantic studios and I was going to be in a makeup commercial(!?) and I had to report to the set. It was just like a maze of stucco building corridors sort of similar to the Venetian…
and when I got to the set I was late. I was also really nervous and self conscious, and I knew I was going to have to take my hat off for the shoot, but I hadn’t had a chance to fix my hair or comb it or anything. It’s one of those things where I wear a hat so often that I almost feel naked without it. It’s like taking off your pants. In fact, I once showered with a girl still wearing my hat and socks(but not my pants) Granted it was like 6 in the morning so I was half asleep..so that had something to do with it…but probably not everything. My advice to people would be to always wear the same thing all the time. Whenever I change things up, I get self conscious that people suddenly will change their mind about me. It’s the “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it mentality.” I have seen too many girls that were totally raving beauties, decide to cut all their hair off or make some drastic style change, and they were just never the same after that sort of like in that song “Caroline, No” by the Beach Boys. It’s why I end up wearing the same “lucky” jackets all the time…agonize over whether or not to grow a beard(or whether to shave it) because I always worry that I might disappoint someone. To that you might say “Who gives a shit? Do whatever you want.” But that’s just not my personality and never will be. I’m a diabolical, meticulous, scheming planner and doing something that “comes natural” or “just feels right”… just doesn’t come naturally to me. If it were forced maybe it would feel more natural though!
Anyhow, back to the makeup commercial in my dream. For some reason director Mike Mills was filming something right next door, so I thought about going over to him telling him “Hey you won’t remember me, but I was in some commercials you did about 10 years ago. I’m here to film a makeup commercial right now. Well just wanted to say hi.” But he wasn’t there, when I went over there…there was just a stack of his business cards. So they finally call me up to sit in the chair where we’re going to shoot the makeup commercial…and they don’t make me take off my hat. They don’t even put makeup on me. They just film me for like a second and are like “That’s it we’re done.” It was like one of those sexual experiences when you just get too excited and can’t last no matter how many algebraic equations or skateboard tricks you do in your head to get your mind off the possibility of impregnating the undeniably sexy girl in your bed. And so I was like what? I flew all this way just for this? But I was glad to get out of the situation without having to remove my clothing or subject myself to anything that I would consider too degrading.
I also never got around to learning what a guy like me who doesn’t wear makeup and hopefully doesn’t need makeup was actually doing appearing in a women’s makeup commercial? On some level though, dreams always make sense. Like what’s hiding behind what’s made up? And perhaps I’m the star of a makeup commercial, because of my long career of concealing things behind images and characters I have created as well as poses which successfully shield me from my insecurities. And it’s not going to stop any time soon! This entry is though, as it’s getting about as gay as it could possibly get. It’s been skirting the line of “Some Like it Hot” territory.
P.S. The true origin of this dream is that I was reading Raquel Welch’s autobiography when I fell asleep. In it she talks a lot about her techniques for applying makeup to help her look younger! And she’s 69 and still every bit the babe that was looking for the firedragon in Fathom circa 1967! So yeah that’s why I had that dream, but it’s fun to think about all that other stuff.
