Thursday, August 14, 2008

Over The River and Through The Woods

Animal Collective, with the wind whooshing into the windows blowing smoke and ash into your eye, but it's okay because you are free and going camping in Durango. A six pack is getting hot in the back seat next to two guys who are flying in the clouds, rolling another joint so they can catch a ride on a satellite.

Sometimes I feel like getting lost in an alcohol fueled apocalypse of a weekend. Only sometimes though, and it's only the desire I have the heart for, not the act. I end up sitting at home watching bad action movies because it's become an obsession.

Obligatory Music List
-Animal Collective- Strawberry Jam
-The Hold Steady- Stay Positve
-The Duchess And The Duke- She's The Duchess, He's The Duke
-The Beach Boys- Pet Sounds
-Panda Bear- Person Pitch

-Fireworks- Animal Collective
-Strangers- The Duchess And The Duke
-Derek- Animal Collective
-Sequestered In Memphis- The Hold Steady
-Good Girl/Carrots- Panda Bear
-The Ballad Of Casey Jones- Band Of Annuals
-Sabotage- The Beastie Boys
-Turn Into Something- Animal Collective
-The Crystal Cat- Dan Deacon
-Gone- Kanye West

Sunday, July 13, 2008

On The Couch

Tonight was good. I stopped taking the ridiculous allergy medicine that was making me feel close to collapsing all the time. I don’t feel like the walking dead anymore, the downside is that my arms are beginning to break out in hives that will most likely make my wrists swell up till I look like the stay puff marshmallow man, only with leprosy.

My co-worker/friend (I’m still not sure what to call them) brought his guitars and drums to work and we worked on some songs he had written. It was a lot of fun. His stuff isn’t really my style at all, but it was great to be playing music nonetheless. We’re probably going to work on it some more on Tuesday so I’m excited for that.

My mom called me last night and asked me if my brother had been drinking and smoking with his friends. I told her it wasn’t any of my, or her business. She told me that I had given her enough of an answer.

My mom is an amazing lady, she really is, but just like every other person, she makes mistakes. When I was in high school my house burned down. The ten of us moved into a tiny trailer, where I shared a room with 4 of my brothers. The stress and bad feelings in that trailer were so unimaginably bad, I think I have an idea of what hell is like. I didn’t want to spend a second more there than I had to, but my mom out of some odd chicken like protection reflex wanted to keep us in the nest, although she did say on more than one occasion “If I have to stay here, so do you.” Which would often be followed by “you little shit.” On top of all my mom’s crazy theatrics and the general stress of having 5 kids under the age of 8 running around, my parents would fight all the time in the trailer, over money and who knows what else. It was hands down the worst period of my life. With all of this going on, something had to give. I couldn’t handle it. So I started sneaking out and going to parties with my friends. I would get really drunk, and have a good time. I would forget about what was waiting for me at the trailer, and hang around people who weren’t crying hellfire and brimstone at me all the time, and she would. She would use these insane guilt tactics to keep us following her rules. Anytime I wasn’t living up to her standards, she would cry and yell things like “I hate you,” or “god is going to send you to hell.” She would always tell me I had made her ashamed, and that she had failed as a mother. Apparently I was a lost cause, which made me figure, “what the hell, I’m past saving anyway, why don’t I have as much fun as I can while I’m still here.” So I would sneak out and get drunk. It sounds like I was this crazy alcoholic drug addict, when in reality I got drunk maybe once a month, the worst I did on a consistent basis was smoke cigarettes. You wouldn’t know this from my mom’s reaction though. When she caught on to what I was doing, there was screaming and crying and basically a lot of “this is the end of the world” nonsense. That’s when she decided she had had enough, and shipped me off to live with my grandmother. I know my parents did this with good intentions, but it’s still hard not to feel the sting of abandonment from the whole situation. I really think it would be okay and I could move on if my Mother could admit to the tiniest amount of wrong doing through the whole thing, but she still feels the same way. She still feels like I am a horrible son, and she has failed me as a parent. I’d like to think that I’m just being sensitive, and that this was all in my head, but the woman still says those kinds of things to me. Whenever I go on a date with a girl here, she tells me not to corrupt her. She says those exact words. It’s insanity.

Anyway, that kind of came out of nowhere, I guess I’m not as over my high school experience as I thought I was. This crap still makes me just as angry and sad and left with this insane guilt as it did when it was happening. I think I know what bothers me about it. She used shame, and guilt to pressure me, and my brothers and sisters into doing what she wanted. She’s a great manipulator, and the guilt she threw on me, the unwarranted guilt (god knows I’ve done things to feel legitimately guilty over) has stuck with me, and I think that’s the reason I keep finding ways to come home, so that I can somehow show my mom that I’m not a lost cause, and that she doesn’t need to be ashamed of me at church anymore. All I know now is that I can’t wait to be far away having a great relationship with her over the phone.

Well, I guess that about does it for my chat with Freud. I’m going to go sleep.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Ode To George Nori, or Totally Insane

I can hardly remember anything from my childhood. I’m not sure why. I’m pretty sure I’m not just repressing bad memories, I guess my memory is a little shaky, because life before middle school is really vague. Maybe I just don’t think about it enough. My brother remembers a lot. He talks about it all the time, he’ll say “Do you remember the time when we were living in Provo and you got your head stuck between the bars on the porch rail?” Maybe I am repressing memories, ha.

My mom told me a story on my birthday that really made me want to remember more about growing up. She told me that her and my dad heard me telling one of my friends that my dad could fix anything. She said that from that day on my dad really could fix anything. I guess I gave him something to live up to or something. It made me want to be back where my parents were everything, when they were these superhero figures that I trusted completely. I still love my parents, and trust them more than most people, but I miss the days before I realized that they were just people too. What I can remember of them anyway, ha.

I’m older than my mom was when she got married. That seems insane to me, I can’t even begin to imagine being married. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for it sometimes. I can hardly handle taking care of myself most days. It just makes me more aware that my parents are just regular people trying to make it like everyone else. If I had a kid to take care of, he or she would be a lot more screwed up at 20 than I am. Which is not much I hope ha.

Every night at work we listen to this really bizarre radio show called Coast To Coast with George Nori, its all about aliens, ghosts, conspiracy theories, etc. They talk about the oil crisis, and the end of the world pretty much every night, As insane as most of the people who run, and call in to talk on the show, it still makes me paranoid that the world is about to go up in smoke. What happens when Oil does run out? Things would change fundamentally. I have a solution. Everyone who wants to can come out into the woods with me to live in a cabin, and off the land, ha. It will be like “Walden” or “Hatchet,” except with more people, ha William Blake’s Commune in the woods.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Sucky Screaming Saturn Missiles, or Why Things Aren't Nice In Old Detroit

Alackaday. No fireworks for me. There were a couple of lame Saturn missiles screaming from behind the bluff, behind the oil tanks, behind the place I work. I could see the sky being lit up from some magnificent fireworks display being held somewhere far away from me. I just ended up watching Robocop and talking about the end of the world with my Co-worker Harley. Are you allowed to call Co-workers friends if you met them at work? Maybe so, I feel like he’s my friend, he’s certainly the person I spend the most time with these days, which tells a lot about the state of my social life this summer.

I loaned my dad 650 dollars today, which was a very satisfying experience. My dad rides me about being “responsible,” and having a back up plan, and all of that grown up business. Who’s got no back up plan now dad?!?

I have been breaking out in hives for the past few days. I’m not sure what is causing it. All I know is that I get big red splotches on my arms and hands, but when I take a Benedryl it goes away. I think it may be some of the toxic sludge I deal with at work. I’m pretty sure that if I jumped into our pond, I would come out looking like the bad guy in Robocop who gets doused with a tank full of liquid, conveniently labeled “Toxic Waste.”

Speaking of Robocop (for the 3rd time). Clarence Boddicker, played by Kurtwood smith, is the least convincing bad guy in all of action moviedom. He’s scrawny but he’s playing a tough guy. He looks like a computer programmer, but he is supposed to be a thug. Bad Bad Bad casting. He does however say “Bitches Leave,” to some coke whore models before tossing a grenade at some unlucky (but very coked up) business executive. They promptly obey which makes the scene that much more entertaining. Also, I’m not sure that many people know this, I certainly didn’t, but Robocop was actually nominated for two Oscars. Way to go academy, for recognizing the greatness of thought provoking pieces of art like Robocop.

Where are our generation's Clockwork Oranges, or Godfathers, or Graduates, or Citizen Canes? We don't even have any Robocops, or Rockys, or Rambos. We have washed up versions of them, sure but nothing that has the same sort of impact. We have been reduced to recycling tired old plot lines or pumping out thoughtless inanities that some dumb studio exec thinks will make money. I suppose the answer is that those types of movies do make money. Sure there are great small budget Indie movies, but I want Star Wars, or Indiana Jones. They are giving us Hancock, and Wanted. The only great movie I’ve seen in the theaters in the last YEAR was Wall E. Which is an incredible movie by the way. Way to go Pixar! 8 out of nine, if only you wouldn’t have made Cars. Actually, now that I think about it, Iron Man was really good. There's another. Wall E and Iron Man. I'm pretty excited for the new Batman too. I officially retract my cynical pessimistic screed on the movie industry, sort of. Comic book movies are thriving and are good just not great, no one will look back and remember the first time they saw Spiderman. It was good, just not spectacular which is what we need.

Well, I guess that about does it for this one. I’m starting to wonder why I’m posting these kinds of things, it seems a bit arrogant for some reason. Who really cares about the day to day dealings of a twenty year old water plant working college drop out who lives with his parents? Well, I suppose this is more for me than anyone else anyway.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Feed The Animals

Today was the first day alone at the house with my dad. It was okay I suppose, even though I slept all day. The night shift has kind of left me disconnected with people who live on a normal sleep schedule. It’s weird, the concept of “today” and “tomorrow” and even days of the week kind of go out the window. There isn’t much difference between Friday and Monday anymore, because late nights are always kind of the same. I wonder why it seems so exciting to be out at 3 in the morning, because it really isn’t.

My dad made me dinner today for my birthday, because I wasn’t really home yesterday. It was pretty good; we had a nice conversation about safety laws, which was more entertaining than you might think. It was the first time my dad and me have had a chance to talk in a long time. I miss it, we used to go on long trips for his job when I was in high school and would talk for hours. We would listen to old punk albums, and he would toll me about growing up in LA going to see all of the bands we were listening to.

Stuff I Really Liked This Week

- To Be Young- Ryan Adams (fr. Heartbreaker)
- Screen Door- Uncle Tupelo (fr. Uncle Tupelo 89/93: An Anthology)
- Jesus Saves- Andrew Jackson Jihad (fr. Only God Can Judge Me)
- 6’1”- Liz Phair (fr. Exile In Guyville)
- Turn Into Something- Animal Collective (fr. Feels)
- Sun Is Out- The Apples In Stereo (fr. New Magnetic Wonder)
- Skinny Love- Bon Iver (fr. For Emma, Forever Ago)
- Moses Of The South- Colour Revolt (fr. Plunder Beg And Curse)
- Swamp- Colour Revolt (fr. Plunder Beg And Curse)
- Steep Air- Sleater Kinney (fr. The Woods)
- Teenager- Camera Obscura (fr. Underachievers Please Try Harder)
- Bingo- M.I.A. (fr. Arular)
- The Crystal Cat- Dan Deacon (fr. Spiderman Of The Rings)
- Play Your Part (Pt. 2)- Girl Talk (fr. Feed The Animals)
- Only Skin- Joanna Newsom (fr. Ys)

- Harold And Maude
- Persepolis
- Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind
- Control
- Mystic River

Saturday, June 28, 2008

So This Is Twenty.

Today was another non-eventful day in a string of non-eventful days, which always scares me because I’m sure that something big is just around the corner, good or bad. I woke at 4 pm to say goodbye to my family who were leaving for a month long vacation without me. They didn’t even end up going because my brother dropped the big “I’m not going on a mission,” bomb on my parents and then decided he wasn’t going to go on the trip. Things have apparently calmed down, but I’m sure this isn’t the end of it.

Persepolis was great. It’s this animated movie about a girl growing up in Iran during the revolution. I also watched Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind again. I got a few more records today, Miles Davis’s Kind Of Blue, and Bob Dylan’s Blood On The Tracks. They are just as good on vinyl as CD, disappointing.

I’m at work right now listening to The Mountain Goats, and getting excited for the party my friends are apparently throwing for me tonight. Should be fun, unless it turns into everyone but me getting drunk, and fighting each other, although being a sober spectator is much better than being one of the drunken fighters. I realized today that I need to get rid of my life and start saving money for real. Friends are a money suck.

It’s my birthday today. I turned 20. Hooray! I really wish I wasn’t always here in New Mexico for my birthday. It’s always pretty lame, and my family always seems to be on vacation without me. I’m going to sleep all day, go see a movie, and then go to that party my friends are throwing for me at the lake. I seem to be at the lake a lot lately. I go there on the way home from work to read a book for a while. I even have a little folding chair in my back seat to sit on when I’m there. It’s without a doubt the best part of my day. I look out over the lake as the sun is coming up and I feel pretty happy. The weather has been beautiful lately too. It’s about 65 degrees outside a few minutes after the sun comes up, which is perfect for sitting and thinking.

My Ipod broke, which is really lame, I’ve only had it for like 5 months. The stupid thing just stopped working. Which is alright I guess, I hardly ever listen to it anymore anyway. It’s not like I have to walk to class anymore or anything. Anyway Happy Birthday to Me!

Friday, June 27, 2008

Workin' Hard Now...Won't Be Long Now!

Last night one of the truck drivers that comes into the place I work brought a turtle, he wanted us to baby-sit it. We tried to come up with a name, but all we could think of were names of renaissance artists, weird. So we didn’t name it after all. We just went back to Rambo 32, or Rocky 15 or whatever mega sequel action movie we were watching that night. Speaking of Rocky. I, no joke totally serious, love those movies. I always feel so triumphant when the last frame freezes on Rock’s contorted “YO ADRIAN!” face after he has beaten up the latest bad guy boxer and proven to Mickey and himself that he isn’t, in fact, a “bum.” Also I can’t help but feel some sort of sick satisfaction when 65-year-old Rambo mows down whole fields full of Burmese bad guys with a machine gun. Good for you Sly, you’re back.

My family is leaving today for Mississippi. I hate money, and responsibility. I don’t care how whiny and selfish that sounds. I know I don’t have it very hard, but me complaining about it doesn’t make it any worse for people that do, so I’m going to complain. I could be spending a week on the beach in Florida instead of allnighteverynight in the oil stained desert. Whatever, I’m over it. It’s just going to be my dad and me here at the house for a month, which means not a lot of conversation. As much as my mother drives me insane with her Celine Dion, and JLo Movies, she is always down for a good chat, which is nice.

So I’m going to be 20 tomorrow, which is weird. When I was a kid 20 was always the age where I started referring to people as “old.” This is most definitely well worn topic territory, but I certainly don’t feel old. In fact I don’t really know if I’ve changed much since I thought people who were 20 were old.