Rock Haus

Date Hell

Don't go getting ahead of yourselves, I didn't actually go on a date any time recently. No, I was entertained by Ubermilf's recent entry about her worst date ever, and having had several rather unfortunate experiences, I thought about writing a similar entry of my own...but who to choose...my answer came last night, when he walked in to B&V to see the movie.  He and I met like so many ill fated couples these days, on the internet.  His profile was compelling, his picture wasn't hard to look at, he was a creative type, and a music geek, he looked great on paper.  We talked on the phone and the convo was a little stilted, and I was tempted to call it off, but then decided to go as I am always being told I write people off too quickly, don't give them a chance, blah blah blah...I agreed to meet him for drinks at L&L.  The day of the date I was running late, I called him about an hour before I was supposed to meet him and told him I'd *maybe* be running 15 minutes late.  He acts all put out, and suggests since I can't be on time I should just come ring his doorbell when I get there (he lived right around the corner from the bar) because he doesn't want to sit around waiting for me. (cough*ASSHOLE*cough) again I am compelled to bail, but again decide to forge ahead.

I end up not being late, go ring his bell, upon first sight I realise that he had found that ONE picture of himself where he looked attractive, and aparently he had a completely different perception of 6ft1 than I.  Still, I forge ahead....we had one drink together. During that drink, he manages to criticize everything about me, from my education (he didn't feel the need to prove anything by going to a school everybody's heard of), to my musical tastes (the Ramones are extremely overrated), the fact that I'm came from the east coast (east coasters are so rude).  When he finished his drink and announced he hadn't been feeling well and he was going to go home, I was more relieved than insulted.

When he came in last night I watched him as he stood in line with his lucky date (he didn't recognize me) who was counting out $10 to pay their cover, she only had $9, and after much eye rolling and making a big issue of it, he paid the cover.  Just the way he acted towards her in the brief time they were in front of me, I knew had our date extended past one drink,  I would have punched him in the mouth.

As far as bad dates go, he is second only to the guy who showed up in PLEATED KHAKIS AND A SWEATER VEST and pretty much opened the conversation by telling me about his psychiatrist and his prozac prescription, went on to drink his margarita, and finish mine, got completely wasted, and closed with trying to get me to go home with him...he also repeatedly pinched my cheeks and told me "you're so cute"....

Despite these hellacious experiences, oddly, lately, I find I *miss* dating...of course working 6 nights a week, being, so I'm told "too picky" and being utterly bereft of spine when I DO actually meet someone I find compelling...odds are I shan't be jumping back into the dating pool any time soon...but at least seeing that asshat last night kinda takes the sting out of that....

Misc wacky....

Hmmmm...

Very exciting night last night, went to work, loitered around after I got off at 12:30, had a couple of beverages with Kymber and Kevin.  Came home and fell asleep on the couch watching a Netflixed documentary on the history of England.  Managed to get up at a somewhat respectable hour (which in my universe translates roughly to *before noon*) Am now caffeine loading at Perfect Cup before going home to tackle hideous apartment.  Hoping I can get it all tarted up today, so that tomorrow, my day off, can be spent sitting on my couch, watching movies, painting my toenails, and doing very little else.

Just read a very interesting article on stalking in New City.  I often joke about stalking, but since I have never sat in a parked car for hours outside a mans house,  nor broken INTO his house just to leave him a note that said "I was in your house", I don't think I exactly qualify as a REAL stalker...I really prefer to just develop an unhealthy fixation and not act on it - much less effort required....  I had a stalker for a month or so when I was in college.  A very sweet and insanely talented painting grad student.  We hung out for a couple of weeks, played a lot of chess at the MRT, I really enjoyed his company.  Then he started showing up everywhere I went Now, granted, I had a pretty predictable schedule back then, I could be found either at work, in the photo department, in the MRT, or at home. I wasn't hard to track, and track me he did  I broke it off with him.   Then, conveniently,  I had a stroke, and went to the hospital.  he came to visit me, he brought me a note which he requested I not read til he was gone.  In the note he told me he loved me...I was in the hospital for a week.  Upon my return home, he started stopping by every day.  I know this because I knew his doorbell ring, not because I let him in.  Poetry and mix tapes (nothing says "I love you take me back" like Scraping Foetus off the Wheel) and letters were left in my mailbox with regularity....I never felt threatened by him, and never saw any need for police intervention. I ruthlessly ignored him and he eventually stopped.  I always felt bad about the whole thing tho,  I had liked him very much initially, and he was, as I mentioned, incredibly sweet... albeit in a somewhat obsessive should possibly be medicated and seek help sort of way....  it's a pity he turned out to be so disturbed, but perhaps this is part of what made him such a brilliant painter...

Speaking of disturbed, I had the weirdest dream this morning. I dreamed that I and the rest of the lads at work were staff at an insane asylum.  It was super super creepy, like, movie creepy, this place could never be called by a gentler title, such as "mental health facility" or "nervous hospital" or as my father so tactfully calls it "the nuttery" No, this was a big spooky teetering on the top of a hill with creepy trees right out of a Tim Burton movie scary ass Insane Asylum.  Now this is the part where the dream gets weird, see, it was supposed to be my real life YET it was also a TV show, but not a reality show, more like a late night HBO 6 Feet Under meets OZ sort of thing. One by one, I and all the lads were dying, at which point, we were sequestered in the basement/boiler room area of the asylum, I was the third to go (I don't know how I died only that suddenly I was dead..) when I got to the boiler room I found Matt and Kevin there...I don't really know what we were supposes to do there besides wait for the others...wacky.

and continuing on the disturbed theme...

In local news, as I walked over here, A-ha guy (this one, not this one) was across the street.  Generally I try to limit my interactions with him to the unavoidable, thought I was in the clear this time, but no...he spotted me, and yelled "HEY!" repeatedly with increasing levels of irritation, until I looked his way, smiled and waved.  Some girls attract millionaires....not me.

Questions from Jen

ARE you a synchronized swimmer?

Am not, and never have been, although I do like a nice swim once in a while, pity about that nasty business of it involving having to be seen in a swimsuit, which is decidedly unpleasant, for all parties concerned.

Have you ever punched a wall?

I have.  But after  the last time about 10 years back,  when I punched a solid cinderblock wall, and my middle knuckle swelled to the size of a golfball, and my whole hand was extremely hurty for a good long time after, I decided to limit my raging hissyfits to kicking things, and only with my steel toe boots on.

What's your thang with Snoop Dog, anyway?

I can't explain it.  I don't like his music but damn he's a sexy bitch...he's tall, he's skinny, he's got those eyes....rrrowwrrr...something intangible compels me to want to do naughty and decidedly un-christian things to him.

When will the Slush Council be reunited?

Well, harkening back to my answer to XLT's inquiry regarding my return to Baltimore, real job, blah blah...if I came to Baltimore, you could come out for the weekend and that would get you me and Sherri back together again...but chances are slim to none that we'd see Miss A, who has no interest in returning to baltimore ever, or Miss E, who is currently with child, and therefore more than likely refraining from most if not all slushy activities...

Paper or plastic?

Paper.

Worst pick up line anyone's tried on you? Best?

Well that synchronized swimmer one was pretty bad...worst attempted pick up was several years back at smart bar, when this guy trapped me in a booth and wouldn't let me out and wouldn't leave me alone, even after i got right in his face and inquired quite angrily what part of fuck off he wasn't clear on (I'd like to add this outburst followed a good 10 minutes of polite refusals to his advances) I eventually pulled my legs up and forcibly shoved him out of the booth and onto the floor.  Best pickup that worked is still held by my ex Tom, who approached me at the MRT one spring night in Baltimore and informed me he had decided to adopt stalking as a hobby and could he please have my name and phone number.

Have you ever sung Joe Jackson tunes on karaoke night?

I have never sung anything on karaoke night, ever, and I don't anticipate that this will change any time soon..

Can you hear the angels singing?

After 40 minutes of being bounced around Sprint's phone hell, I finally was connected with a CSR named Jessica, who after several consultations with her supervisors, a few calls to local sprint stores, and a bit of fenagling, informed me that a brand spanking new phone is en route to me and I should have it in 3-5 days.  So, I still contend that most of  the employees at Sprint can suck it, they're rude, and dismissive and will transfer you to a department that has nothing to do with your issue, just to get rid of you, but then there's Jessica, a gleaming gem of an employee, atop the giant pile of poop that is the general Sprint employee populus.  She is totally my hero, and a complete rock star.  I immediately shot off an email to sprint informing them of her stellar efforts, demanding that they give her a raise and crown her queen of Sprint (okay, I was slightly more eloquent than that, but I made sure they know she totally rocks).

In the meantime, my old phone is out of service...so if you want to get hold of me, call me at home.

Questions from XLT

XLT sent me some questions.....

1. Here in Baltimore, last weekend was the triumphant return of Artscape (Fartscape, Artscab, Foodscape, etc.).  Do you have a favorite (or at least indelible) memory related to the festival in question?

Ah, artrape, the bane of any MICA guard's existence.  Arsecape was never really all that bad for me as Molly adopted me early on as one of her "Bitch Squad" whose primary role was to sit in the air conditioned tranquility of the college center and tell the general populace NO YOU CAN'T COME IN.  One year there was this particularly refined and articulate gentleman, in a cutoff's and a wifebeater and a beergut, drinking his requisite giant plastic cup of Budweiser, who really seemed to believe he was in fact ENTITLED to come in and enjoy the clean facilities and the air conditioning, as it was, as he informed me and anyone around who would listen  "his tax dollars payin' fer that ayir cundishnin dey gots in there".  I decided against informing him that MICA was in fact a private institution and that his tax dollars did exactly fuck all to pay for the A/C, and instead retired back inside and ignored him until he finally fucked off.

My favourite thing about the entire debacle was the pit beef......god I love pit beef.

2.  Just about everyone mentions a teacher that inspired them to be the success they are now.  Fuck that.  Do you remember one that did the opposite for you; the walking cautionary tale?

Prior to becoming a Photo major, I dabbled around in the GFA program, taking lots of painting classes.  I really enjoyed painting, and although many found my choices in colours somewhat jarring, I don't think I was a BAD painter.  Anyway, I signed on for Steve Gilbert's abstract mixed media class.  From the beginning, Steve told us if we wanted to work in out apartment or studio, instead of hauling crap into class every week, that would be fine.  So this class immediately became my blow off class...and then I sort of forgot I was even taking it, until about 3 days before final crits. So I went on a 2 day painting bender, and cranked out 3 or 4 of the biggest pieces of shit that oil paints have ever known.  They were abstract, but by no means mixed media, so new and fresh that the paint was practically sliding of the canvas, and frankly they sucked, I was embarrassed by them, but I figured I could slide by with a D...I go to my crit and Steve's looking at the paintings and hemming and hawing and not really feeling them, so I, in my caffinated no sleep for 3 days delirium, say, "well, wait, look at them this way!" and flipped them all on their side.  Suddenly he LOVED them, rambled on at great length about the composition, and the nuances and the feel of the paint...and I stood there and listened in stunned disbelief, as he informed me of my grade for the semester, which was much better than a D and so completely NOT DESERVED in my mind that after the crit I went directly downstairs to the registrars office and changed my major.  I'd also like to note that Steve Gilbert was a SHITTY PAINTER himself.  During the faculty exhibit one year, I was forced to sit and look at one of his paintings every time I worked a shift at the station building.  I think 27 gave the most apt description of it, which was "blank canvas with drips and smudges".

3. What is your favorite body of water and why?

The Atlantic Ocean.  I love its beaches, I've been in it here, I've been in it in England, it's a fine ocean.  I will say however that the Red Sea offers a better snorkling experience.

4. Where is the best local restaurant you've found in Chicago and what's your usual?

If I'm actually going to dine in, I'm quite partial to Standard India Restaurant on Belmont.  They offer a fine Indian buffet for a reasonable price.  It's not fancy, the walls are painted a faintly distressing Pepto pink, but the food is excellent.  If you are in the mood to stuff yourself to the point of bursting on tandoori chicken, and sag paneer, and nan, you can't go wrong at SIR.  For take away, I'm v. partial to Sinbad's, which is practically next door to SIR.  Sinbad's again, very reasonably priced and I've never had a single thing from there that I didn't like.  They offer beef, lamb or chicken kebabs, felafal, hummus, tabouleh, baba ganoush, and it's all WONDERFUL.  Usually I'll get either the falafel and hummus sandwich in a  pita (only $3.50!), or the Sinbad kebab platter, which comes with beef, grilled veggies, rice pilaf, a small salad, and pita bread - all for under $6.  The beef is tender and flavourful, the veggies aren't overgrilled, and the pilaf is tasty. I can't say enough about how much Sinbad's rocks my world.

5. When are you visiting Baltimore again?

Once I am gainfully employed, Charm City is first on my list of places to go once I have some time off and have addressed a couple of pressing financial concerns. So I guess the real answer to that would be, not any time soon, but as soon as I can.  Hopefully before the triplets enter kindergarten.

Dear Sprint PCS - the line to GO FUCK YOURSELF forms to the left

   So today I thought I'd try something new.  My i-book has no wireless card, so I can't actually blog from the field, but I *can* take the laptop with me, and WRITE an entry somewhere other than my intolerably filthy apartment.   So Im at the little coffee joint down the road from me.  It's called Perfect Cup, and although not as gritty as I prefer my coffee places (my favourite coffee houses of all time are Baltimore's Grind, way back in the day when it was new (god only knows what it's like these days) and Cafe Squeeze, which was near Miss A's first apartment on Broadway when she moved out here in '92.  ) Perfect Cup is nice and airy and hardwood and pale yellow walls with mediocre artwork on the walls...not smoker friendly, (but so few are these days) but the people here are very nice, and they make a good iced americano. ANYWAY - my point being, I can think here, and upon waking this morning all I could think was "must get out of here".  So here I am....perhaps next time I'll go over to the Grind on Lincoln - that's where all the kids on Craigslist missed connections hang out and virtually stalk one another, and in the absence of the LBEM I need someone new to stalk...

[RANTING ANGER AND VENOM]

So many of you who know me in the real world received an email from me yesterday asking for your digits as my antique cell phone finally went tits up and although still allowing me to make and receive calls, the digital display has gone completely bezerk... the other day I called Sprint to begin the arduous process of extracting a new phone from them.  Now, I DO qualify for an upgrade, they aren't denying me that, What they are denying me is an in-store rebate, as opposed to a mail in rebate.  As I'm sure y'all will be surprised to learn, my high power glamour job doesn't leave me with a whole lot of money sitting around that I can use to pay for a phone and then wait the 6 weeks or so it takes to get my rebate. Nope. I don't have that kind of cash. Sad but true.  My original plan had been to TRY and get the free phone from Sprint and if it didn't work just tell them to suck it, and go with another carrier, since most companies will throw a phone at  you for signing up for a 2 year contract - easy squeezy. WELL, it would appear that at SOME point during my conversation with Sprint the other day, I agreed to a new 2 year contract, WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING ABOUT IT.  I discovered this yesterday when I went to the Sprint store, and talked to a guy there, who really DID want to be helpful. He was the one to inform me that I had this 2 year contract thingie, but when I said "Now why would I agree to a 2 year contract when there was the possibility I might move to another carrier - WHY WOULD I DO THAT!!??"  What I *should* have done at that point was sweet talk him into calling Sprint on my behalf but since I had to go to work, I did it myself.  This was an ill fated conversation where I was essentially informed "no free phone and suck it on the contract, you're locked in now, no givesies backsies, neener neener."  I ended up getting extremely frustrated and getting snippy (for which I don't feel entirely responsible, I mean, who of you wouldn't be snippy after dealing with the 5 minute voice activated phone tree, with its constant "I'm sorry, I didn't understand what you said, please repeat your response" only to end up talking to a surly CSR who doesn't give a shit about you and your problems,  to then be put on hold for 10 minutes, listening to Justin goddam Timberlake, and then talk to a surly supervisor, and still not get what you want.....ooooh...I was VERY irritated).  So I thought I'd vent this out to y'all, dear readers...if only to get it out of my system so when I go home later and call sprint again to continue the battle, I can be all sunshine and goddam lollipops, and hopefully not end up telling my lovely sprint representative to shove the aforementioned lollipops up where the sun don't shine.

[/RANTING ANGER AND VENOM]

In other news, WOO!!! GARBAGE IS PLAYING IN AUGUST AND I GET TO WORK IT!!!

Do you ever ride roller skates and chew bubblegum?

Was the question posed to me by a strange little old man on the street as I walked home from the train last night.

Today I had one of those appointments where I get all tarted up and go try and trick a nice company into making me their administrative bitch...got on the train and was immediately smitten by a handsome gent with a classic pompador and a soul patch, glasses, and a wing collar shirt...as I sat there fantasizing about our fabulous vegas wedding and what we'd name the kids, the train stopped and bachelor #2 got on. As is always the case, the guy  with the dirty blonde ponytail, missing teeth, grubby t-shirt and uncomfortably short cut offs, sits down opposite me and tries to start a convo.  Mercifully, I had my headphones on, and was able to nip that in the bud with a polite smile and the casting of my gaze to the floor.  What was annoying, was that his presence was very inhiibitive of my making eyes at the groovy guy with the hair and the glasses (who I will also add had very sexy hands) since I was unable to sneak a look at him without first looking right at bachelor #2.  sigh.

Sunday I spent hanging out with Spot, we went to lunch and then to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which was SO FRIGGIN AWESOME I HAVE TO GO AND SEE IT AGAIN.  Afer the movie we were joined by his lovely bride to be, Miss Wendy, and we went to Dish for cocktails and nibbles...all in all a lovely day...I wasn't even bothered by the fact that it was 100 degrees out.

The Les Claypool show on friday was good - Les is one of the finest bass players EVER, and puts on a great show.  The unfortunate aspect of the show was that the crowd was for the most part, stupid filthy hippies. in their tatty abercrombe shorts with a $40 tie dye and $100 dollar birkenstocks, and their filthy faux dead locked hair, doing their little squat and twirl dance that sends me into a homicidal rage every time I think about it...I don't completely understand WHY he attracts hippies...but oh well. I would reccomend if you elect to attend a Les Claypool show, wear a soap on a rope around your neck and if possible, sneak in a stun gun.  Grooveatron opened for him - also quite good.

I suppose that's it for now.

More questions from Jolly James

1.  What is the speed of dark?

I don't know You tell me.

2. Would you eat at a place called "Mom's"?

Sure, I enjoy testing the limits of my digestive system, and I've a fondness for greasy spoon type places (I say this as I don't imagine a place called "Mom's" having a menu that features nouvelle cuisine, or the latest in French/Thai fusion).  So long as Mom knows how to cook bacon, I'm down, and if Mom turns out to be an old biker who is actually a man - all the better.

3. Would you play poker with a man named "Ace"?

I don't know how to play poker, so no, but I'd play a few hands of gin rummy.

4. Would you invest in something that eats, drinks, or needs watering?

I think that's a pretty obvious answer - I have my beloved Napoleon, who thus far is pretty low maintenance (knock on wood) but does tend to get a bit stroppy if she doesnt' get food and water and a clean litterbox.  Prior to his demise last year, Stoli was running me about $1500 a year in vet bills and medication alone...I won't buy plants tho.

5. Why are we here- really?

TO SERVE AND WORSHIP ME.  And frankly I'm getting pretty tired of all you bastards out there refusing to get on board with this.

6. I know that Steven Wright has asked this question before- but what is  your answer: If you are traveling at the speed of light, and you turn on the headlights, what happens?

How in fuckery should I know?

7 Questions from Aaron

1. Do you prefer men 'cut' or 'uncut'?

I'm not sure that I've seen a fella with a turtleneck since I played Doctor with Andrew Teverson when I was 7...so I can't really comment...now if you had asked me pierced -v- not pierced, That I could have an opinion on.

2. A lot of people have lost their virginity to music playing. If this is the case with you, what was playin' when you were rockin' and rollin'?

The initial sullying of my girlish virtue took place without a soundtrack...it was more utiliatarian experience (ie - I'm pushing 19, you'll do, let's just get this over with) than tender and romantic expression of affection, so it was pretty no frills...since then I've done it to varying soundtracks...I quite enjoy AC/DC.

3. Taking a cue from an earlier question, if you had to sleep with Keith Richards or Mick Jagger, who would it be and why?

Keef.  No matter how old and haggared and downright frightening he gets, he's still a rock god, and my inner groupie simply couldn't refuse.  Now, you could argue that the same could be said of Jagger, and I suppose it's true, but Keef embodies all that I find appealing about Rock and Roll...and he has a sexy voice.

4. If you had to die in a horrible accident, would you rather drown, burn to death, or suffocate?

Actually, I would prefer a swift blow to the head..but if that's not an option, I suppose suffocation.

5. Britney or Christina?  David Lee Roth or Sammy?

Van Halen ceased to be Van Halen when DLR left. Fuck Sammy.  Britney and Christina tie for second place on my  list of "People I wish to douse in gasoline and throw firecrackers at"

6. If you could only listen to one album for the rest of your natural life, what would it be and why?

Joe Jackson "Look Sharp" I love every song on the album, and after owning it for about 18 years (in Vinyl, Cassette, and CD incarnations), I've never gotten sick of it.

7. What do you fear the most?  This can be either something tangible or intangible.

Falling through ice and dead hookers in the dumpster..

3 more questions from Miss Sarah

1. Who wears short shorts?

Not me...aside from an unfortunate flirtation in the early 90's with the cutoff's/black tights look.  I cut a pair of jeans off just below the knee the other day, and that's about as scandalous as I'm willing to get with shorts these days.

Actually in truth, I am RIGHT NOW wearing a pair of daisy duke length cutoff's, but I don't leave the apartment in them...

2. You are having 2 dinner party  one comprised of 5 dead people and one with 5 living - who would you invite and why?  Who would you def not
invite?

Wouldn't it be more entertaining to have all the living and dead people together in one big dinner party?  I'd have rock star night, on the dead side we'd have Joey Ramone (of course) Mark Sandman,  Keith Richards (I know what you 're thinking but iof you have PROOF that he wasn't reanimated through the miracle of cyborg technology some time in the late 80's I'd really like to see it) Johnny Thunders, Divine (not quite a rock star although she did release an album in the 80's)...on the live side we'd have Joe Jackson, E from the Eels, Eric Bogosian (not a rock star, but it's my damned party and he's a rock star in my mind)  Rob Zombie, and Jack Black...good times, and yes, I realise I'd be the only (real) girl...hmmm...how about that.....

Celine Dion would absolutely not be invited, unless she was to serve as kindling to start the bbq.

3. If a building was on fire and you could save 10 strangers or one loved one what would you do?  And do you consider me a loved one?

One loved one. let the strangers loved ones worry about their silly asses.  And yes, you are a loved one, my beloved plum dumpling. I would risk setting my hair on fire to save you.