Drummer without a Girlfriend: April 2013

Woke up ~4 at sound of someone coming into office complex where I was sleeping. Luckily it wasn’t raining; walked the few blocks past Kinko’s to get a bit more sleep at a bus stop. Phone dead after a 15-minute dip in a mud puddle, so wasn’t really sure what time I woke up, but it was just barely starting to get light so I went to get on Kinko’s’ Internet. Shortly after I signed on got reply from my sister - just come on over, she said, even with her friend been crashing there since he got back from abroad and shit pretty tense with me coming by/sleeping there all the time, like they had a house meeting at 6:45 am the other morning. So, I said, she rocks, but of course I couldn’t leave Kinko’s without finishing my last few Wikipedia edits, and the network was super-slow and then suddenly it was like 20 minutes later. Then, impatient, broke, didn’t wait at the bus stop and of course started jogging as I was halfway to the next and it blew past me. Didn’t really matter that much, though, as I saw her mopeding down the hill on my way up + crashing-there friend leaving just as I was getting in (was he not supposed to see me?) But of course someone else had their laundry in the machine when I got there—at least it was finished. So I put it in the dryer, threw my load in, ran upstairs to get naked, threw ALL the rest of my clothes in, brushed my hair, showered… Of course, got lost in thought in the shower; not the quick 10-minute in-and-out I’d envisioned, my mind kept drifting… Got out, of course, other apt’s clothes still drying. So go back, up, mapquest shit… Oh, God, How far away is this thing? Jesus, there’s no way I’m going to be able to make it there on time. Freaking out a little, but realize where Google Maps shows is a bit further than I’d envisioned. Playing with fire, rolling the dice, and realizing I have, really, no choice at this point, without having yet taken it to a repair place, I take my phone out of the bag of rice and put the battery in. It starts up and I dial my dispatcher-person to double-check where the assignment is. Finally throw my shit in the dryer and go shave while I’m waiting. Other roommate wakes up + asks if I’m almost done with the bathroom; I’m about two minutes from finished shaving but I haven’t brushed yet. Figure I’ll do it when I get there or something. Jesus Christ, I’m supposed to be so gone by now; it’s about 8:30, I’d swore I’d only be an hour if Kimo left the iron (which my sister helpfully left out), and even if I didn’t get here till 7:30 (I have no idea what time it actually was, probably after 7 but probably not that late) it’s still been an hour and the other roommate wasn’t even supposed to see me/know I’m there. Now I’m totally late + screwed. Boss-guy tho told me there was some bomb-scare thing downtown, so that buys me a little time. Literally all my clothes save some swim trunks are in the dryer now, but I do have the assigned shirt we’ve been given, which had been specified needed pressed, so I get to ironin’. Figure I’ve done all I can, grab my pants and boxers, still damp, do a quick-ass job of creasing those, and throw the whole thing on. Now the one roommate I’m especially trying to avoid is out and about downstairs, and I’m debating how much longer I can hide upstairs waiting for him to go back in his room + leave—I’m already ridiculously late. As soon, however, as I see Kimo coming back to the house, I wait for him to finish fawning over the neighbour’s dog, then, boom, I’m downstairs, hitting him up for a ride. I walk past him socializing with J and just say, Hey, thanks for the iron, but as I’m getting my socks out of the dryer (and putting the rest back into my Big, Homeless Plastic Bag), I ask him about a ride to the end of the road. He says he can’t, but then says if I can wait 5 minutes—sure, no problem. Honestly, if I hadn’t got that ride, I would have been totally late. He basically says they’re going that way (he + gf on way to beach, since he can get away with cutting work on Thursdays—his life is so hard) + drops me off like two blocks from where I need to be. I make it in time, figure out where I’m supposed to go… looking down, I notice that the cream-coloured shirt really doesn’t go well with my khakis. Too bad they’re like the only pair of non-jeans I have here on the state—in fact, the only other pair of pants I have here. My mind idly flits over that fact, as I ask a security guard if I’m even vaguely going in the right direction. I run into boss-man, as I walk up to the entrance, and he looks at me gravely. They said black pants. How did I miss that? I heard “black shoes,” then something about women and skirts and their dress requirements; I guess I glossed over the “black shoes, black pants” completely. Well, he says, we’ll see. So I go in, go through the whole thing, and then, finally, as we’re all waiting around, the guy running the job says, “I’m sorry, I can’t let you work unless you can get some black pants… You understand.” He says, though, he’ll put me to work if I can get back in a couple hours… Go to the library, e-mail Kimo, then text him, resurrecting once again my cell… Finally, as I’m about to give up, get the green light. Pants in room. OK. So I head on back to the house. Realize, if I make it back to the job, I may very well not have a time and a place to get food again until, like, midnight, so have just enough time between transfers to run into a supermarket. It was supposed to be activated at 7 am with my birthdate as the PIN… but my new EBT card doesn’t work. Try entering it a few times, swiping it again, and give up. Just have to finish the entire bag of Wal-Mart fig not-Newtons. Back on the bus, walk up the hill, trying not to drench these nice work clothes in sweat… suddenly so exhausted, worried how tired I’m going to be when I get back to work… Get to the top of the hill… and J’s car is still home. At 1 pm? Really? Walk to the very end of the street, try to find somewhere in the shade to sit… The Zen temple looks deserted, to I hang out there, pass out… After finding a comfortable way to lie on stairs without getting my nice clothes dirty, finally awakened about an hour later by someone who, y’ know, actually belongs there pulling up in a truck. I embarrassedly scurry away, and check the house once again. 2:30, and still home. What am I gunna do? I wasn’t expected back anyway, really, so I just give up for the day. I don’t wanna see dude, I don’t wanna deal with dude, and I don’t wanna make shit yet more hot and stressful for my sis. But now, I’m looking at it, like, shit. I am so in debt, might get all my earthly possesions put up for auction with a lien on them, and that one day of work today would have made all the difference. But at 5 pm, now, it seems a little ridiculous to even still care. I don’t even know what to do, but I think I’m going to go apply for some jobs now. Even though I have letters still to write to la Montréalaise and an epic that I’m still composing having not talked for almost 4 months to ariadnæ.
And now I get e-mail from her saying she’s going to cut her hair. Also a bunch of Speedbump e-amils I haven’t even looked at yet.

----------------------------------------
> To: Dad
> Subject: Re: This is what counts for intellectual honesty on the Left
> Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2013 19:00:17
>
> If you look at the links, the debate was quickly moved to a more substantive medium - but sometimes you can pick out single sentences even in non-Twitter discourse that are howlingly disingenuous. In this case, responding to Harris' "We can settle this by holding opposing cartoon contests. You take Islam, and I'll take any other religion on earth," with "Why don't we settle it with an invasion, bombing and occupation contest? I'll take US & Israel - you can have anyone else," strikes me as an egregious red herring. The U.S. and Israel do bad things, therefore any critique of Islam is invalidated or - worse yet - not allowed. When someone calls him on it, he petulantly replies, "I know - only the crimes of Muslims count - never your side - because *they* are so tribal, right?" He then goes on to invoke Josef Stalin as a complete non sequitur - presumably to trot out the old, tired canard that atheists are "just as dangerous" as the religious? At this point, I feel like we're dealing with someone who can be thoroughly dismissed as unserious.
>
> Anyway, I have to say, Greenwald comes off looking a lot better in 140+ characters, but he's still draws moral equivalencies and conflates military actions of the West with Muslim violence without adressing the CONSEQUENCES OF BELIEFS, although I really think the central problem is he simply does not grasp many of Sam's arguments. Here's his (quite lengthy!) response, and the e-mail exchange that sparked off the "Twitter debate" in the first place.
>
> http://ggsidedocs.blogspot.com.br/2013/04/email-with-sam-harris.html
> http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2013/apr/03/sam-harris-muslim-animus
>
>
> ________________________________
> > From: Dad
> > Subject: RE: This is what counts for intellectual honesty on the Left
> > Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2013 18:27:09
> >
> > A twitter debate? What a waste.
> >
> > > To: Dad
> > > Subject: This is what counts for intellectual honesty on the Left
> > > Date: Sat, 6 Apr 2013 11:51:09 -1000
> > >
> > >
> > http://ggsidedocs.blogspot.com.br/2013/04/twitter-exchange-with-sam-harris-and.html

Drummer without a Girlfriend

Thursday, April 25, 2013

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Friday, April 19, 2013

Notes on 72 houri

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Re: For my own reference, but yours, too

Thursday, April 11, 2013

This one sentence just BLEW MY FUCKING MIND

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Joke/a peek inside the Spanglish-speaking toddler's brain

Thursday, April 4, 2013

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