Boss

My new boss is extremely nice and pleasant. I am unsure if it is due to his Dutch demeanor or his only recent entry into NYC. Something, something must explain this unnatural work place behavior. He reminds me of one of those bosses that you see on TV walking down the street with his assistant after lunch when Ambush Makeover attacks. He is the type who would say "Sure! I'll give Alexa the day off. She has been looking a bit frumpy and is need of a massive overhaul. Please, please do all that you can." He would also be the only coworker (or friend) that would show up for my reveal. In his honor, I have taken time out of my work day and online current event reading to acknowledge his consideration and express my gratitude.

Though my first supervisor was viscious and self-deluded, everyday was entertaining. When I gave my 2 weeks she didn't accept this and convinced me to stay on for 1+ week longer even though I told her my lease had already ended and I would be forced to live in my car. The following conversation ensued (AL=me; CB=crazy boss):

AL: Hi, umm, I am leaving in 2 weeks.
CB: Really? Where are you going?
AL: No, I am quitting. I am putting in my 2 weeks.
CB: What are you doing instead?
AL: I am moving to New York.
CB: Do you have a job lined up?
AL: No. I'm not sure what I will be doing, but I am leaving in 2 weeks regardless.
CB: Well, we really need you since J--- won't be back for before that time. Are you
sure you can't stay for a little longer?
AL: Well, my lease runs out and I don't have anywhere to stay.
CB: We really need you. You can stay with me during that time. I have a spare
bedroom.
AL: Thanks for the offer but I already have it planned out (in my head: yes, that would be so awkward, and start office rumors that I was not only her office gimp, but private one as well).
CB:...oh yeah, my mom is coming to visit during that time, but you guys could share
or we could work something out. Really, it's not a problem. Oh, the dogs. Hmm, don't know how they will like that.

In the end, I used my car as a closet/lunchtime break room/uhaul, slept on the couch of 1 friend and 1 cousin, spent 1 night in a motel and ended up on Rinita's cement floor. As I look back on it, these were all purely to increase the dramatics of the situation and to highlight my exit from the state since at the end of everyday I would remember that my sister had an apartment with an extra room.

More urban cowboys

Hem is said to have an Aaron Copeland tinge to their music. Come on, you know, “Where’s the Beef” commercials. Think Conestoga wagons and dinner triangle. I am amazed that a group based in Brooklyn can compose music that is obviously the soundtrack for a cowboy somewhere in the open spaces of Wyoming.

This morning on the subway I forgot that an empty car is not a sign of luck, but rather an indication that a god awful stench permeates within. There were two gigantic pine tree air fresheners residing in this car, doubling the aroma. It did remind me of horseback riding. Otherwise, any ideas of fresh air, a natural quiet and open space have been removed from my memory. This definitely inspires escape. Whereas my plan entails retreating to my darkened 6 ft wide room, Hem somehow imagines glockenspiels and string arrangements in their sprawling landscape amidst the concrete grid and trash bag tumbleweeds. Compared to Manhattan, Brooklyn is a peaceful escape with its rolling hills, lush greenery and free-range, roaming packs of squirrels, but I still do not understand how it is enough to influence such expansive orchestral compositions. Of course, with the help of Sally Ellyson’s voice (reminiscent of Margot Timmons of the Cowboy Junkies) I’m beginning to see the pastures amongst the potholes.

Their cover of Johnny Cash and June Carter’s “Jackson” proves that Hem can see and apply their concept to anything. Hi Johnny, I know you intended this as a duet about infidelity but I’m going to take my musical pickaxe…smash…there, beautiful ballad. All signs of the original plunking dun dun dun dun rockabilly version have been replaced with a nostalgic waltz. You can contrast for yourself (entire pirated versions TK): Sally Ellyson (and Hem) vs. Johnny Cash and June Carter

They are just that good, I suppose, that neither Johnny Cash nor homeless subway riders can divert them from their escape.

Monster's Choice

http://laserbeast.com/mp3s/index.html

lightning bolt (monster's choice) - named dropped by my ex-roommate. I pretended to understand the reference to impress him.

My neighbor, my junkie

Apparently my housing is the most interesting thing about me since 80% of my posts revolve around it. So as a I was saying, I am situated between the hipster crackheads and the actual methadone-taking junkies. I decided early on to avoid the area northwest of my apartment since the methadone clinic waiting rooms seem to spill out onto the streets in that junction. I'm sure the man taking a nap under the scaffolding is delightful, but I don't want to wait around to find out since his friends are staring at me like I am a walking syringe.

Right outside my window, to the right of the cemetary and behind the alley the neighborhood kids use as a backyard/soccer field/general stage for the performing arts, is a church that caters to the chemically deranged. Every morning at 7:45AM a warden yells undecipherable words through a speaker system from the mineret of the clinic to awaken the junkie congregation. I can never understand what is being said. One morning I swore I heard a prebreakfast game of pick-up basketball. Another time I heard them collectively yelling the Pledge of Allegience. No matter what activity is used as an alarm clock, it always ends with "Let us pray." Then, the most frightening collective moan and scream is heard. Everyone seems to excise their demons at that point. Real demons! Real cracked out demons! with fangs! It sounds like a gang initiation style beat down of the Holy Spirit is occuring. I hope someone remembered to pray for Jesus. I suppose the drug dependent pray differently than the Chinese First Baptist do.

Kurt Loder is my super

Gideon Yago lives in my building. I am only excited by this if Serena Altschul lives in his closet. Oh, or if he can make me an MTV superstar without trying. As of now, I have given in to my apathy and have created a little piece of Middle America boringness in my room. It's not as exciting as when I found out that one of the Secret Machines lived in my former building, which I discovered by accidentally stealing his mail and keeping it as stalker memorabilia. That is not exciting as living in the same building as Derek the hunky soap star looking guy who listened to eurotrash music and fought with his girlfriend daily in my former former building. Maybe Gilbert Godfried will live in the next place I move into.

I am in love with Lucinda Williams. I have been dealing with this issue for some time. It has been such a struggle throughout the years which I have attempted to come to terms with. I haven't felt this way since I was angst-ridden confused teenager who was in love with Sarah McLachlan and her sweet, sweet voice.

This has all been solidified after I bought Lucinda's live album. As the album unfolds each track sounds more and more inebriated. Though her live shows always contain more of a growl than the studio version, it's laid on quite thickly here. Since this album coincided with her World Without Tears tour, most of the the track listing is comprised of these songs. Unfortunately, some of the best live performances have been sacrificed - "Get Right with God," "Still I Long for Your Kiss," "Right in Time" and WARNING: I don't recommend this album for the first time listener. It sounds more lupine than human. I believe that she devoured a pack of Marlboros and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the greenroom preshow. I love it, but the unintiated may feel as though they are in some cowboy heehaw hell. You are ignorant, but you will learn.

As I listen to the live CD I imagine Lucinda stomping up our dusty drive way, up the steps of the porch, stumbling through the kitchen door of our wooden house on South Congress, kicking in the screen door, beligerent and in a drunken daze demanding her eggs. She yells a stream of incoherent nonesense at the back of my head. Choose your own adventure:
Option (1) I roll my eyes and grit my teeth to keep from starting a fight. What's the point?
Nothing ever changes. Anyway, Thelma will be here in an hour to pick me up for our
cross country trip.
Option (2) I grab the freshly washed glass and throw it across the room. She's stunned and
speechless for a fleeting moment. Her diatribe continues. Nothing ever changes.

She makes her way into the living room and picks up her guitar and begins to write a song about my tragic death from a car crash which resulted in the car exploding and being rear ended into the local lake as I listen from the kitchen while finishing the dishes. I think to myself "This is not how I imagined my life. I need to get out of here. scrub scrub"

Happy?

For some time I have wanted to post some of the work 'correspondence' between Sergio and myself. I believe that sheer boredom and the spontaneity encountered at work makes for some of the most entertaining posts. Now that Rinita has been added to the mix, not only has the pace of the conversations been tripled, but the cruelty factor has been upped about 45 percentage points.

Additionally, someone keeps calling me lazy. I'm not lazy! I'm just contemplating my next move! And some of the smartest people are lazy. You just don't know about them because they don't get anywhere in life. Anyway, I think this gets around the lazy thing too. No need to think/type more than necessary. This maybe irritating and only funny to us, but whatever. You can read some news stories if nothing else.

Below is an article containing a Dear Abby type letter from an inmate that Sergio forwarded to me. Sergio's comments are in red and I am team blue. I don't know where Rinita is. Probably enjoying a nice breakfast taco. Lucky b*.

On 5/4/05, L, Sergio <> wrote:

Comment: Inmate wants answers on stalled castration
Web Posted: 04/13/1998 12:00 AM CDT
Larry Don McQuaySpecial to the Express-News

A couple of years ago, I went to the media in a serious quest to become castrated before I was released to the city streets of Texas. My comments and confessions prompted an old case to be reopened, and I was convicted on an 8-year-old crime. I was sentenced to 20 years in the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. I will soon be eligible for parole again.

That media event also caused a new law to be passed allowing voluntary castration of repeat sex offenders. That law passed and was signed by Gov. George W. Bush in June 1997. It was to take effect immediately. After my last conviction, I was returned to the criminal justice system on Aug. 28, 1997, and immediately made my request to be castrated according to the new law. As of March 26, 1998, I have not been castrated. Why not? I have been told that Cathy McVey of the state criminal justice department's programs and services division was supposed to be setting up the castration program. I wrote McVey several times. Her last response to me was on Nov. 13, 1997, telling me, "When the policy is developed and the process implemented you will be notified." I have not heard from her since. Due to the amount of time that I spent in the county jail, and the fact that I was recently promoted to "State Approved Trusty 4," I am eligible for parole before November 1998. I have an absolutely clear disciplinary record and will be eligible for another promotion to "State Approved Trusty 3" in less than 90 days. All of this makes it likely that I will soon be released on parole, and I have not been castrated yet. The Texas Department of Criminal Justice is about to release me, again, without my being castrated. Where will I go? There are only a limited number of halfway houses in Texas that are equipped to handle sex offenders, so I am subject to go to any city in Texas. A city where I will be required to look for work and so forth, meaning I will be walking the streets of your city, of your community, of your neighborhoods. And without a doubt there will be children around. You tell me what is likely to happen if I am not castrated before I am released. The castration law has been passed for almost a year now, and the Texas Department of Criminal Justice has not castrated me even though I have definitely volunteered for it. Now I likely will be released to the city streets of Texas. If the state does not hurry up and castrate me, I am likely to be as wild or even wilder than I was before I first went to prison. Help me!

On 5/4/05, L, Alexa<> wrote:

overall, very good. but you forgot to sign your name at teh end sergio. wahwah!! why if your head wasn't attached to your neck, i think you would lose that too.

On 5/4/05, L, Sergio <> wrote: : Re: Comment: Inmate wants answers on stalled castration

you're such a loosah! i like how he's like, what will i do? what will i do if i'm not castrated? don't be afriad to pull the trigger, Sir.
sl

On 5/4/05, L, Alexa <> wrote:

dear mr. inmate,

have you attempted to castrate that part of your mind? i would consider castration only as an extreme option. if you are obese, i would give the stomach staple a second thought as well. anyhow, i have had your castration request on my desk for quite some time. i have been unable to fill the order since you did not indicate whether you wanted a 'full,' 'right,' or 'left' procedure. the form clearly indicates that all starred (*) sections must be filled out entirely. In addition, the directions also indicate that you must use a number 2 pencil and NOT black or blue ball point pen. This oversight has also caused much delay since I had to enter all of your information into Excel by hand. Let me tell you sir, your extensive 'background' has caused my typing finger much trauma. This also further delayed your request since i had to wait for my request of a wrist typing brace to be filled before i could proceed. i apologize, but those 9 years you were in prison really flew by. i thought i would be able to get through the paperwork in time, but the delays prevented this from occurring. the state apologizes and i will expediate your order. in the mean time, i have enclosed your social castration kit, including: scarlet 'P' to be worn visibly (x1), election campaign-type posters reading 'PED'O PHILE' to be posted in front and back lawn (x5), eye patch (x1), hook arm (x1), fat suit (x1).

thanks and all the best,
a