Monthly Archives

November 2006

Recap of the weekend haps…

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Hoover gave me a copy of Windwaker, just for the hell of it! (Actually, he received an extra copy from an eBay seller, but I like to pretend.) I’ll be playing in a bit. Finally, a reason to own a GameCube!

Overall, my Thanksgiving break was hella fun. Had a fantastic night out with Lindsie, Dusty and Hoover on Wednesday…do order the French martini at Sweet Basil if you are ever in Shippenville. Do not, so much, order the bread vines. My pear pie was a hit at Thanksgiving lunch and I cleaned up with some beginner’s poker luck at Barbara Ann’s that evening. Drove Jayme and the boys back to Erie with Flora on Saturday, which was a nice escape from home and a good chance to drive Klaus on twisty bits of Route 8. Intersperse these things with vodka, wine and Wizard People, Dear Readers and you have my entire time at home fleshed out.

Now, I’m working on a mental list of Xmas gifts. I think I have decided on just about everything to get for my varied loved ones…just a matter of actually ordering/shopping.

Speaking of which, I’m all out of foodstuffs. I need to make a paper list for Wegman’s. I bid you ‘adieu.’

A perceptive moment from an unlikely source…

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My brother, as those who have met him know, is probably not the most emotionally-attuned or insightful of folks. This is his personality and there is really not much to be done to change that. All discussions of it end in “Well, that’s just Nate” including those that involve him as a first-party.

So, this morning on our normally awkward, conversation-less drive in to campus, I nearly fell out of his truck when he turned and said “Nick, I think you might be the man in the box.” and then returned to his non-talking.

I’m the man in the box
Buried in my shit
Won’t you come and save me, save me

[CHORUS]

Feed my eyes, can you sew them shut?
Jesus Christ, deny your maker
He who tries, will be wasted
Feed my eyes now you’ve sewn them shut

I’m the dog who gets beat
Shove my nose in shit
Won’t you come and save me, save me

[CHORUS x2]

“Man in the Box” by Alice in Chains

I’ve never actually listened to these lyrics so you can imagine my shock when not only had Nate listened, but actually made the leap to an interpretation of meaning. Very interesting.

I hope they can’t see me…

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As some of you know, Tigg has been pissing all over my furniture. Or “wetting” as Shirley the Cat Lady so couthly put it. I gave her a week to take the antibiotic that the vet prescribed and let her chill in the bathroom. Unfortunately (depending on how you look at it), she decided to wet on my bed this morning, her second day out of solitary. So…back to Shirley’s she went. Graciously, I was offered another cat in exchange – good thing I kept the receipt.

Therefore, I give you Clyde. He is enormous and only seven months old. Apparently, though, he doesn’t realize he’s the epitome of feline studliness because he’s been hiding since three o’clock today. “Hiding,” that is. Oh, Clyde…

Random thought…

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Self-titled albums: thoughts? I’m of the opinion that they are like a ‘get out of jail free’ card in Monopoly. Something you receive and can hold on to until just the right time. Like when you are abominably stumped as to what to name your record. For instance, The Cure’s most recent album is self-titled. After decades of doing this music thing, they decided that now is the time to call a disc “The Cure?” How unusual.

I know this is pretty much drivel, but it felt like it was of GREAT IMPORTANCE.

In other news, Dave took my phone today with promises of making her a star. He took photos of her to use in some capacity. Tasteful photos? I suppose she’ll need a name other than Nokia 6131. Something with a little more ring to it (no pun intended, though I’ll still take credit.) She kinda looks like she’s wearing a tuxedo, so I was thinking k.d. with intentional lowercase-ness. But maybe something more original? Ideas?

Emo-est Point East of the Mississippi?

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And all you see is where else you could be when you’re at home
And out on the street are so many possibilities to not be alone

The flames and smoke climbed out of every window
And disappeared with everything that you held dear
But you shed not a single tear for the things that you didn’t need
Cause you knew you were finally free

“Your Heart is an Empty Room” by Death Cab for Cutie

The scene: Me, lying on my bed, listening to Death Cab…knitting…as the rain comes down…and my cat naps beside me.

Could this be any more emo? I don’t think so.

It’s a contemplative kind of day here in my apartment. I’m all done with everything I had listed for the weekend. Freelance is finished, the plants are watered, the laundry is clean and away. Floorplans for Hannah’s new kitchen are drawn, a pick up is scheduled for my computer and my phone is finally working with Gmail’s mobile app. So now what do I do?

No one is around. Even Nate’s away, having gone home for the weekend. I could drive to State College and see what Mike’s up to, but I like to pretend that I don’t need that town for just a few days. And it’s really wet. And frigid.

Not that it’s EVER any warmer in here.

Will I ever get out of this place? The job I had applied for in Pittsburgh didn’t work out. I know, honestly (thanks for the reminder, Dusty) that I don’t really want to live there. But it’s not here. At this point, that’s all I can really hope for. Just to not be here.

I think it’s most frustrating that this is all my life goal has been reduced to for the time being…

Here’s a fun game for you to play at home…

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It’s called “Nick’s Evening.” To play:

  1. Drink four cups of coffee.

  2. Drive five miles.

  3. Drive five miles back.

  4. Eat dinner.

  5. Print this photo then drive five miles.

  6. Stare at the above photo for two hours.

  7. Drive five miles back, again. Throw $43 out of the window on the way.

  8. Optional: stab yourself in the eyes.

This game is also called “Going for a routine oil change at PepBoys.”

Phone Call: The Script

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[phone ringing in handset]

[half ring and sound of recipient’s handset being fumbled]

Rob: “Connecting Point Computers, this is Rob.”

Me: “Hello, I was calling regarding my MacBook Pro. I left you a message yesterday and…”

Rob: “Yesterday? Yesterday was Sunday.”

Me: “Yes, I left a mess…”

Rob: “We don’t work on Sundays.”

Me: “I know, that’s why I left a message.” [awkward pause] “There was an option for voicemail?”

Rob: “We wouldn’t have checked that. We don’t check our messages.”

Rob (as an afterthought): “We’re too busy.”

Me: “Interesting. Anyway, I’m calling because Apple told me to get in touch with you regarding my MacBook Pro. I have a reference number with my case notes if you’d li…”

Rob: “We don’t need that. Doesn’t matter. You just have to bring the computer in and we’ll tell you what’s wrong with it.”

Me: “Wow. Well, that’s actually what I’m trying to do. I need to see if you can repair it in house or if you’ll ship it out.”

Rob: “What’s wrong with it?”

Me: “So you’d like to know what’s in my case notes, then? Okay, well the latch is a bit sticky, there is a sputtering noise in the lower right corner (like a fan?) and there is a high pitched buzzing in the upper left.”

Rob: “So there’s three things wrong with it. We only fix one. Otherwise, we have to send it out. You’ll have to come in.”

Me: “Will I be treated with this amazing level of customer service when I arrive because this is probably the rudest phone call I’ve experienced in awhile?”

Rob: “Yes, we will be treating you with excellent…”

[handset clicks onto receiver]

Bonus: This should have been my first clue. Marvel at the web design principles of a bygone era: 1997.

Grainy images of art…

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Well, for year two in a row, I put some art on display at Webster’s Bookstore & Café in State College. As you can tell by the girl in the foreground, the inhabitants of the sitting area were totally thrilled to see me coming with a hammer in hand. Perhaps their coffee soothed the pain of my bothering them enough for at least one to bother looking?

Wait! What’s this:

Anyway, they’ll be up all month long (until 9 December) so please feel free to make a visit if you are in town.

She’s crafty…

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While playing Scrabble tonight with Mike and Jane, Tigg stole the letter “T” from the word “train.” We didn’t immediately notice.

My cat is a genius.