greenblue

There's no business like no business. This last one was a really hard long awful bright sunrise smell of chlorine dirty gravel ice kinda of weekend. Anyone who reads this blog saw me at the Killer Yellow show which was the best show that I have seen this year.

So this new job is pretty fucking good. I realized that I hadn't written any stuff on the blog in a long time because I was going out working during the day and drinking at night and that ... wait there's no time left between those two. I can't smoke like I could at the garage though. The industrial park is pretty on breaks though.

Getting more and more artists joining John at the Cuba Gallery, getting photos of their work up. Knox Overstreet has three tracks for download. Growing up little by little! I think Greenfield is still a little bit stuck computationally. I think I am a little bit behind of myself somehow.

Updates:

Carter wants to move to Oakland to teach. Carter, I know you're reading this: don't move to Oakload! Don't fucking move to Oakland!

As below, I have a new job! (That's why I've been very light on the entries here.) It's at Jackson Audio Services in the Industrial Park near my house. I can walk to work in 2 minutes. We produce big batches of CDs.

So the past week I've been starting there. I still have to go the parking garage at night for two weeks. It's Sunday so I have the day off of both. All other times I've been sleeping. I haven't been out at the Horn or anywhere else for that matter. For all I know everything's changed there. I've done a few things on the site, but not much.

Anyway, it's my day off so I'm goin' drinkin'. So fuck you, and don't move to Oakland.

I remember Haley's Comet came when I was a kid. And I remember it being fucked that I was going to have to live so fucking long before it came back. And at the same time it was obvious that Haley's Comet comes every day, there's no annoyingly real and most-see-now thing.

I didn't want to write anything the last few days. I'm at this new job and it's exhausting. Usually doesn't stop the blog but sometime the blog stops itself.

Sundays are that sort of day. Precisely that sort of day. I'm happy to see that Karl Hagen is doing some blogging of his own. Or at least starting to. So I'm syndicating it.

The blinking yellow was on again tonight. That damn blinking yellow is on every night.

Another year and the classes are starting at GCC and I didn't sign up for anything again. Everyone is on me, every year, this year, every semester, to take some classes. I can't sit still for that. I'm afraid. I don't know. I don't want to read and write. I want to dance pretty dances. I don't want to go to college and I want to go to college, I'm telling you. Just believe me.

If anyone noticed, the events are five months old becuase I'm A LAZY MOTHERFUCKER! That's all going to change this semester ... I mean - this month anyway. How does a dumb ass dropout start living on a semester schedule. This is all Carter's fault. Carter is starting to teach his classes and he's holed up in his apartment writing lectures. He convinced me to apply for a day job so I can get on a more regular schedule. But now I'm alone at home with a sixer of High Life cans and a good old U2 tape, cause he's at home on his fucking regular schedule.

Sunday is a bad day for drinking in Rhode Island. Greenfield is no different than anywhere else. What you bought on Saturday is what you've got for Sunday. The bars are open but I feel misanthropic tonight. No college for J.B. Not this semester anyway.

This is it oh fuck it's Saturday night long weekend long week; well good goddamn it is fucking Sunday morning.

Carter is on my case that I should stop whining about old girls and ... well, fuck, fiddle-faddle - start over with my picture of how girls and me work. I wish it could work with me just being honest. I have fucked it all up with my inexperience.

That running back and forth game I just played again tonight. I would have, oh fuck YES!, I would have nothing less. I'm not really interacting much now save for bartenders and parking lot attendants. I don't have a car but they're up late nights and I'm always, for some reason always, walking home. Quite right, always, always walking home.

In the dark of the suburbs now, this little ... this little fucking Greenfield ... Greenfield is everything I wanted and dear Goodness it's hard sticking with it. I said something like this to myself before I slept and I had tough dreams. So say this again ... Greenfield, OK OK, OK it'll be alright if I just sleep it off. And the ice that coats the sidewalks downtown and the brown grass on my lawn will all end, come summer, come someday, come my -

real life is coming, real real real - we all know that real life is coming here, in our dreams, in our little summer lives.

So I'm running back and forth between Oxford's and the Horn thinking - where I am going with this night ... when did a Friday night become such a fucking production? I'm thinking having a night worth remembering is well, it's a task bigger than me, bigger than I'm capable of.

That's 1:35 down Cross Street so fucking cold my hands just hurt now, I wouldn't be able to tell you what temperature it was, they just hurt. It could have been fire, or corrisive acid. I'm thiking about the color of the girls hair in the blue light. I'm thinking about if I can smoke when it's this cold outside. How did I get this pint glass out of the bar? And I don't remember what I was drinking or why I even took the drink in the first place.

It felt like it had been a long day. I was listening to Foreigner all morning and cleaning the bathroom.

This morning feels like it might be a bad one. The fucking snow won't melt. Right when I was going to bed last night I looked out the window at the industrial park and remembered exactly how perfect this place is. Goddamn, goddamn nostaligia. Goddamnit it. There's the blinking lights on the radio towers. There's the warehouses all lit up. There's the mills now studios. There's a blinking traffic light ... yellow ... yellow. You can hear the highway a little bit, just a little bit. Just enough for comfort.

Now it's all light and grey.

Today I took several walks. It's sunny again. I haven't seen anyone it seems like for weeks. I stayed in tonight and watched cartoons.

AH gosh just getting home from the Horn. I can't believe I still fuckin go to that place. But I would be lost without it. Completely lost.

Carter was drunk tonight. I like not being the drunkest. Maybe I was worse than I thought. I spent alot of the weekend over at John's playing PS2 and talking about the Cuba Gallery site and now that it's up and looking good I'm really happy. Things are going well on that score.

I'm also really glad to start this weblog again. There will have to be some changes in its character from when I had it before. We shall see how it goes. More on that some other night. I'm so fuckin tired right now.

so fuckin, so fuckin tired.

Testing.

Sorry I haven't been writing for so long. No excuses on my end. Didn't feel like it. I'm going to Grand Rapids tomorrow and I'll be back later in the month. If I can find a computer I'll tell some stories from the road. Bye for now.

Long fucking weekend. I sleep at strange times and sometimes in two small shifts a day. I'm still hanging on to day culture, still trying to go out for walks around the College in the sun, still trying to meet Carter and Mike for lunch. And then I'm up late at the garage and then at home can't sleep, sipping seltzer and listening to the radio.

I didn't even realize that I had missed the River Crab show until the next day when Carter told me about it. You know its strange days and you're living a weird world of your own when you run a website with local events and you can't remember when they are.

Today I slept late, stayed in. Reading Joseph Conrad, and tried my hand at Herotodus. I was working on Thursday and Julia came by and we made plans for Saturday. I saw Allan Hazlett eating lunch at the Fishburger stand, and we said hello. He seemed out of sorts, promised a new story soon. I have some to post already, so I'll get those up soon. Friday night Mike and I stayed at Oxford's until they closed, and I slept well. And Saturday just like every other time I see her was perfect and awful all at once. We watched "LA Story" at her house and I wanted to kiss her, and I walked home.