Yay, I'm going to have gas. No electricity.
The other downside is that I am more broke than I imagined possible. In the course of two days I have written five checks, which have really decimated my bank account (balancing my checkbook, I found that after all these checks clear I will have four. dollars. to my name.). Maybe I should sell some knives. In reality, though it's against my religion to do this, I'm going to have to ask my parents for some cash. Otherwise it'll be living off Soba staff meals and the half pound of pasta I have remaining for the next two to four weeks.
Friday, June 30, 2006
holy fucking knives
Big move is today!
Unless someone else's wireless connection is very strong,
I will not be using the internet anytime soon.
There is also a good chance,
that my apartment will not have electrical service this weekend,
or gas for my stove.
We will see.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
basil's blooming
Holy great week, batman. Having free time in the morning is an enlightening experience. Yesterday I woke up at 10:30, went out and got a paper, and sat down in Starbucks with coffee and a scone. Today, I made buttermilk pancakes with blueberries and walnuts for my roommate and I. Who knows what I'll do tomorrow? And Thursday and Friday I've got off so I can move into my new apartment. Once I have a copy of my lease and maybe my cooking gas bill, I'll have proof of PA residence. All I need after that is a social security card, a copy of my birth certificate, and a doctor to fill out the back of my learner's permit and I can get my license as soon as I'm ready. My roommate's beautiful and let me drive her car yesterday, and said she'd teach me how to do stuff with it.
Being a college graduate rocks. Now all I need is a vacation--I'm looking at September to take some time off and see my freakin' family, since, you know, I haven't for seven months. Forty-thousand dollars doesn't buy buttermilk pancakes as good as my mom's, and "Chef Breslin's Chili" doesn't really compare to the venison crock-pot creation of my dad's.
~no, it wouldn't.
Everything would be so dull.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
hmm...
When I'm sober, I want to write but I can't find the inspiration. When I'm drunk I write things like this, coherent or not:
Stepping out the back door of the kitchen into the thunder and rain, knife kit over his shoulder, he decided to enjoy the walk home rather than spite it. Weather was not something to be scorned for its existence but rather appreciated, like work or anything else that cannot be helped, and the lightning coarsing through the vast violet sky was so brilliant that it sent the cook into a state of awe rather than disgust.
An electric flash of blue made an American flag on the armored knife kit explode with color as the grillardin walked away from it all, away from the 48 hours a week and full-time studenthood, away from the lack of love, lack of family, lack of friends. Nothing really matters, is what Queen said. Maybe they were just narcissists too obsessed with their own notes (the costumes would imply as such), but then again, maybe nothing really Goddamn matters. It's quite possible for lightning, the hot grill, the deep, skin-searing Frialator, the rain and sex and love that cannot last, the dark rum, the fake forty-thousand dollar education, the strong religious godlessness, to be the only things that people like Junior the grill cook need to live for.
It is indeed, quite possible that nothing else is needed at all. Life is it, really, and America whispers this to its dwindling counterculture, freedom seeming pointless for everyone else in a passionless era.
Stepping out the back door of the kitchen into the thunder and rain, knife kit over his shoulder, he decided to enjoy the walk home rather than spite it. Weather was not something to be scorned for its existence but rather appreciated, like work or anything else that cannot be helped, and the lightning coarsing through the vast violet sky was so brilliant that it sent the cook into a state of awe rather than disgust.
An electric flash of blue made an American flag on the armored knife kit explode with color as the grillardin walked away from it all, away from the 48 hours a week and full-time studenthood, away from the lack of love, lack of family, lack of friends. Nothing really matters, is what Queen said. Maybe they were just narcissists too obsessed with their own notes (the costumes would imply as such), but then again, maybe nothing really Goddamn matters. It's quite possible for lightning, the hot grill, the deep, skin-searing Frialator, the rain and sex and love that cannot last, the dark rum, the fake forty-thousand dollar education, the strong religious godlessness, to be the only things that people like Junior the grill cook need to live for.
It is indeed, quite possible that nothing else is needed at all. Life is it, really, and America whispers this to its dwindling counterculture, freedom seeming pointless for everyone else in a passionless era.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006
imagine all the people living life in peace.
Seven and a half hours overtime this week is going to make paying rent a little bit easier.Unsure if I like the new Chili Peppers album. The more I listen to it, the more I just don't think it sounds like the Chili Peppers. It's not that it's bad at all, but it sounds contemporary and also somehow not as real. The solid sound is still there but it just doesn't rock as hard, and when it tries, it sounds way too rehearsed, or manufactured, or something. Dani California's a good song.
Tomorrow I'll be baking a big sheet cake for my roommate's brother's graduation party. I get to write stuff on it, I guess.
Not much else is going on, I guess. I really just kind of wanted to make a new post.
~burn out the day
burn out the night
I'm not the one to tell you
what's wrong and what's right