Summerholidays Vs. Punkroutine

Wow! Let me tell you a little about my weekend. Some of it will be in the vein of "I did this, then that." Some of it will be more interesting to outside parties. And I have no pictures of it. So bear with me.

As usual, I worked until 7 on Friday night. My work schedule is unwavering unless I take off. Tuesday after school-6, Wednesday off, Thursday after school-6, Friday after school-7, Saturday 9:30ish-4. Sundays, Mondays closed. Just in case you wanted to know. I'm really bad at slicing cold-cuts, too. Alex Tack came to the butcher shortly before closing time as this was the plan. My mom picked he, my sister and I up and we drove directly to the movies to see Juno. It would be Alex and I's second time. We got there and it was chaotic. My mom waited in line for the traditional booth-method of purchasing tickets, while we the young and initiated waited in line for the compukioskticketmachine that can be tricked into giving us inexpensive tickets. The idea was that, having two groups in two places, we would minimize waiting by effectively being in two different places at once. Wow. It was our turn at the kiosk, we got to the tickets before mom, but Juno, amazingly, was sold out. So in an effort to further subvert the system, I elected to buy four children's tickets to 27 Dresses. We would later proceed from the ticket collector to the Juno auditorium and enjoy the movie from the comfort of the floor. It had been done before (Ratatouille.) Mom my though, waiting in line now for concessions, was thinking sensibly and told us that they probably would catch us, so we left Regal Shitheaters and went to Grotto to take out a fucking delicious pizza. I ate a lot of it. We watched Grand Theft Parsons as a family-unit even though dad was absent (No Country for Old Men for the second time) and Alex was a welcome edition. I took him home after that and a cup of coffee (so as not to fall asleep at the wheel) and on a whim and after leaving a very quiet Gabby P. (how do you spell my coworker's last name?) a long, meandering, typically coherently incoherent voicemail, I went to Robert Ohman's to join him, Miles Fricker and Matt Foulk. My planned five minute stay turned into over an hour. It was true delight - sitting in a turned-off automobile and bullshitting. Plus a comfy chair and Swedish electronica. Home, for Soulseeking, then to bed after reading all of half a page from Orthodoxy.

Saturday was less of an event. After work, I didn't take a nap like I promised myself. Instead, I showered, sat around for a long time in my boxers (becoming more of a habit. I think it has to do with the soulsucking of winter.) and began working on a new mix for Miss Morris. I called Kara Kalmbach to invite her along to that evening's night of one-act plays at my school. She obliged, so I dropped my sister off to babysit in north Wilmington and headed to Golgotha. When we pulled into a parking spot, I turned up "He War" really loud and we kind of danced in our seats, in the heat. A kid pulls into a spot kind of in front of ours, steps out of his car, then hears our loud music. Thinking he would be doing something cool (but lacking our spontaneity), he went back into his car and started blaring what I describe as an edgier, heavier Nickelback, maybe in some kind of form of one-upping us. I didn't really get it and it kind of made me sad. We snuck into the auditorium, saving us a collective ten dollars, and caught the last few minutes of something silly. This kid Greg Fleming was in it and I like him. He's a junior and is in my journalism class. One time, Harrison Fertig and I were at the SATs and because of the alphabet, he was in our testing room. We tried to socialize with him at break but um, he just wasn't having it, leaving us wondering if it really was the Phlegm. Kara and I spoke briefly to Nick Bradley before heading to our seats, on the way saying hello to the principal and picking up Eddie Dillon. The next play was also something silly, but slightly rewarding for the cutie narrator in a polka-dot dress and a funny watered down sex scene. The next was called Having No Words and was a really clever, almost adult play written by a student from a sister school. I really would like to meet her. It was kind of Dave Eggers with a vagina, so Miranda July-ish with a twist of the ethereal. It was my favorite of the night. The worst was next, Smoker's Hill, written by Eric Austin who is my opposite and I find myself hollering at him in class. He's one of those smarmy atheists GK Chesterton and I infuriate and are infuriated by. The kind who have no imagination and to them life just "is" and there are no great mysteries. The play started off kind of good actually. The scenario was a nerdy kid and a badass girl, who was, surprise, smoking. She was kind of giving him a hard time but she is suddenly intrigued when he blurts out that he is sure he's Jesus. She then asks him all these questions which made her really likable but he kind of got annoying. Especially since he was a product of Eric's head, so he was eschewing all this really obvious symbolism/parallels (he got chained naked to a goalpost by seven tough guys). He was like the reverse of Eric in a way: Jesus trapped inside a scientist instead of the science minded asshat trapped inside a Catholic school. After that kind of cute q and a, Eric comes in and acts a hard-ass which was LAUGHABLE, especially when he "pushed the boundaries" by calling "Jesus" a faggot. It was SO OBVIOUSLY a vehicle for Eric to LITERALLY "BEAT UP JESUS." Wow.

I went to bed late and finished Anna's mix and AIMed it up with her. I slept in. Mimi woke me up at 12:30 and I told her right away to turn on my radio so I could catch the end of This American Life. My mom came in and was all like come on, let's clean! She thrust me right into this frustrating, impossible job of downsizing my shit. I called it off after five minutes. "Look, mom, you can't just do this! I just woke up!" I sat, dejected, in my boxers on my chair, surrounded by piles of clothes. Finally I got up and headed downstairs. I dicked around for awhile with the fam, still boxered, before finally showering and getting myself pysched to play and write music. All the while, I felt like my face was drowning in my own mucus. Trey came over! Made me feel better. We worked out an arrangement for a TV Dinner song, wrote lyrics for a forgotten Mediocre Egg Yolks song ("Adam Air"), tightened up our Cat Power cover, reworked "Apples"... it was all very productive. I went back to cleaning my room with Trey until Anna arrived, 6:45 on the dot! I was glad to see her. We all went to get Mexican at the new place in Kennett (across from Wawa on Cypress, GO!!!!!), picked up Trey's girlfriend, dropped them off in Somerset and then headed to the Ohaman's. Matt was there again too. We watched Ninja Warrior and listened to Swedish electronica before heading back to my abode to watch a movie. We got back, made more coffee, and decided on Final Destination. Holy shit, goddamn! It was so awesomely intense teen drorror and I loved it and it was great fun watching it with friends in a dark room with lots of blankets. Now I'm having fun making up ridiculous scenarios to die in. Next week, Final Destination 2! Not Devin Sawa!! Seann William Scott, get out of the fucking car!!! Kerr Smith is awesome!!!!

So, it's been a good weekend.

Don't you think Refused took the loud/quiet/loud concept to a whole new level?