Archive for May, 2004
This time after my trip back home, I thought the post that follows should clear a few things up. Apparently my post after my Easter Break trip home caused quite a stir. But I think my intent was completely misunderstood. I simply meant to express the restlessness I’m feeling as I shift from one world in Nashville to another in Knoxville. I’m eager to get back to Nashville while I’m in Knoxville because all my things are in Nashville. While I’m in Knoxville, I’m living out of a bag. Everyone knows the feeling of getting back and unpacking. It’s comforting. I suppose the misunderstanding from that post is my fault because of my failure to convey exactly what I meant.
In happier news, I brought my NES and SNES to the pad. Oh, snap! I finally got it fixed while I was back in Knoxville, and I simply can’t wait to get it hooked up and get myself addicted.
Also, even more happier news, Chun and I found the first skosh of change in our new sofa, as evidenced below:
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That was the disclaimer on this commercial I just saw for Kahlua. The drink’s slogan instructs me to “Unleash It!” However, apparently I’m supposed to unleash it in moderation. Well, if that’s not a contradiction in terms… hmm… staggers the imagination.
I’m back in Knoxville for now. It’s kinda sad because everyone keeps dropping the current Redi-Made question: “So, ya in for the summer?” Oh, no. I’m afraid not. I’m only in until Sunday. Then, our family’s taking a little vacation to the Blue Ridge mountains, and when we get back from that… I’m back to Nashville.
I’m only here until Sunday… but everyone’s too busy. I knew it wouldn’t be a giant carousal (I got over that illusion the first time I came home from college), but I figured I’d have time to see a couple of my old buds. I had to beg Hadley to make a Waffle House run with me just to see him before he left for the beach. Apparently all the seniors are too busy with “graduating” to do anything, and hardly anyone else is in town. Em’s in town, but she’s seeing all her people on the other side of Knoxville. Megan just got back today, but I think unpacking will probably take too long for her to come over. It’s such a shame. I’ve got all this time and an empty house to myself, and no one else has any freetime.
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For the first time in several days, it didn’t rain. It’s been in the pleasant 80’s out, and I love it. I took a run this afternoon, also for the first time in several days. I figure all that moving (of our stuff and others’) counted for quite a workout.
On to the fun stuff… I promised pictures for all of the new apartment, and here I make good of that promise:
Here’s the makeshift “entertainment center” that we enjoy. You’ll also note the Walmart quality futon peeking in from the bottom right. Our quality sofa’s that Belmont so generously ordered for all Bruin Hills residents for only a $300 hike per semester haven’t arrived yet. Wonderful.
As we move to our left into the kitchen area, you’ll note my grades hanging on the fridge, including my all A’s save for my F in Music Business seminar. Amazing.
We must enter the hallway, where we always do it Dave’s way, to see the residence quarters. Chun grabbed this little jewel straight off the Wendy’s wall. Brilliant.
The room on the left is Chun’s room. This picture shows his whole room. Don’t be fooled, there’s no magic expanse on the other side of the camera, this is it. Snug.
And this is my room. After some finagling, it looks like I’ve got everything in its place. Maybe a few more posters would be nice. The optical illusion here is that my room is huge, but in reality that is only a midgit’s shopping cart from Kroger. Viking and Stuffy asked me to keep it here over the summer instead of either of them having to take it home. Yeah, see if they’re ever gettin’ that back! Plunder.
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It’s been a long, yet short day–one that absolutely calls for a Belmontonian-style songwriter’s contradiction. Perhaps I’ll write a song about these last few days called The Longness of Short.
It all began Thursday evening as the clock struck six. We grabbed our keys from the Bruin Hills clubhouse and checked in. Then the moving began. It took until 1am to have all our stuff simply moved over to the apartment. Somewhere in the evening–I’m really not sure when, it was all a blur–Em and her roomie from this year came over and brought us McFlurries for a much needed break. I’m only throwin’ a half-thanks out for that one since mine was dropped on the asphalt before handed to me. After the ladies left, we continued to get stuff moved in.
Somewhere around 2:30 we headed out for Walmart. We needed some cleaning supplies very badly. Waving our cleaning right may not have been the best idea, even if it did mean we got to move in four days sooner. On our delirious ride back Chun uttered the fateful phrase: “Don’t we need a shower curtain?” ARRR! Of course we did, and that necessity ultimately merited an immediate return trip to Walmart. While Chun sleep and flatulated in the car, I hurried inside, it now being 4:11 in the morning, to retrieve a shower curtain and some lighter fluid. Lighter fluid? I don’t know, it was 4:13, I was delirious, don’t hate.
Chun had work on the morrow, so I let him hit the proverbial sheets–though in reality they were still packed–while I took my masterful cleaning skills to the horrendous bathroom. I mean, dang. The girls before us did not treat this bathroom right. The store brand equivalent of CLR ate off my flesh as I scoured over the shower. I’ll frolic in my own filth, but someone else’s is a different store entirely.
The next day, separated from the previous by only a nap, saw us headed back to Wally World. It was most fantastic and enjoyable trip, and on the way back we decided to get Chun a Sam’s Club card off his daddy’s account so that we could buy normal foodstuffs in ridiculous bulk later on. As the jolly lady was making Chun’s card, she pointed at me and said, “Would you like to make him a card on your account as well?” Chun agreed, and so my card was made (on the back on Chun’s student ID, but that’s another story). Some time later a thought came to me. “Chun, you don’t think she gave me that card because she thinks I’m your boyfriend do you?”
“Geez, I hope not.” We both became instantly concerned about the possibility of putting off massive “gay vibes”. I came to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t a good idea to be publicly referring to things as “ours”. I just happened to take my card out to look at it, only to find these words seared into the plastic below my picture: Business Secondary Spouse. Oh no. Oh, this can’t be good. Further more, Chun says I’m the woman.
Later on some very disturbing coincidences came to light. He’s the one with the job, and I stay home and clean the dishes. I have long hair and bigger boobs than him. And he spoons me… I mean, what? CRAP!
Tonight, I wanted to make sweet tea. I love that stuff. Everything was clean, and so I thought it a proper time to begin tea-making. I proceeded to open the coffeemaker to insert the teabags, and contrary to the assurances of cleanliness in the entire kitchen, I found a moldy chalupa hiding inside the coffeemaker. Chun swears it is a long since used coffee filter, but I saw no signs of filter paper… only a morbidly rigid Mexican dish. Sick.
Let me throw out mad props to the cleaning crew: Kristy and Tara. Without their expertise, there would still be a cup of yogurt crouching behind the stove.
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Today has been a most wonderful of days!
First, I was casually watching Jerry Seinfeld on the Tonight Show because “Seinfeld” is my most favorite show ever. Now, just yesterday in a pawn shop I was lamenting to my good buddy Chun that there was no DVD collection of a TV series that I could really get into. You know, something you can have a regular viewing of and invite people over to watch. Well, I’m sitting there in Em’s room as she tries to round up whatever else needs to be packed in her car for the night. Suddenly, my ears hear it! Yes! Seinfeld and Leno are discussing the release of the Seinfeld series on DVD!!! Why has it taken so long? Well, that’s simply because they are working on adding cast commentary!!! Holy snap! That’s just about the most exciting thing ever!
As if that weren’t good enough… and believe me, it is… I come back to the dorm for one of the last times, and I log onto BIC on Chun’s lovely Mac to check my grades. Oh, I’m scared. I’m really hoping for a B in Psych. That’s all I’m asking for. The final grades load up on the screen, and what to my wondering eyes should appear? But three little A’s corresponding nicely to English, Psych, and Rec Tech. The other grades aren’t posted as of now, but that’s all I need. I’m so excited, I think I may have wet myself, but I don’t even care! Still waiting on those grades from Accounting and New Testament, but I only needed an 11 on the final in Accounting to get an A, and NT might land me another A. Dang… I’m so psyched!
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Today most everyone on my hall moved out. My roomie moved out, and now the room is eerie and empty. I am left without a fridge, and it’s still a day and a half until I get to move to the apartment.
Tonight I went with Chun and Matt to CD Warehouse to look for old CD’s. Picked up P.O.D.’s Fundamental Elements of Southtown and James Taylor Live for only a dollar each. Holy crap! Then we went next door to Cheeseburger Charley’s. As Matt refilled his drink, the girl that takes the orders definitely checked him out. Oh, snap! Man, that’s some good eating there. I’ll have to go back. The cook even told us to take care when we left!
Who knew book burning wasn’t allowed at Belmont? We were only torching a couple of old romance novels that we had already read during tea time earlier this year. Some guys passing by decided to grab some lighter fluid and douse the 200 some-odd pages of filth. They left. Belmont Police arrived in force. I swear we had the whole on-duty squad on scene within a minute, even if it was only 4 officers. Three of ‘em stood there laughing while one ran and got a fire extinguisher. “This is a dumb and stupid thing to do.” Thanks, Starsky. As I’m writing this, he’s out there right now giving Chun and Stuffy a talkin’ to. I sure hope they don’t report me. I don’t need another ticket right now!
On a sad note, today at lunch, Chef Michelle had a heart attack in the back room and died. Mad props to the old Frenchman for his awesome pastries–always made with love. And every morning he’d make my omelet a little overdone ’cause he knew I didn’t like it runny. Piss!!! And at the end of the year too. Now I know why Mrs. Tonya was crying…
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Oh man, the events of last night were incredible. Let’s recount:
1) Kev gets pulled over… well, actually, asked to pull over by a cop standing in the middle of West End. Apparently, playing a little Ace of Base and driving 44 in a 30 is illegal. I guess I just didn’t see the sign.
2) Krazy Karl came down the hall after we’d gotten back and were sitting in the hall eating our bean burritos w/o onion. He smelled like a music festival. He proceeded to run down to the water fountain, against my warnings, and almost ripped the water fountain off the wall when he overshot his target. He gave us our end-of-the-year goodbyes, and he instructed us on the best kinds of tequila to buy. Don’t buy the cheap, colored kind. They’re just trying to f*** with you. If you’re going cheap, get the clear. He exited the hallway with an ironically poignant “F*** the Police!” and started down the stairs. As the laughter subsided, I looked up and said, “I sure hope he makes it down the stairs.” Thud. “Nope.” I laughed so hard I was wiping the tears away for the next couple of minutes… Oh what a brilliant evening.
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So I’ve been waiting for a week now to see if I got the Audio Engineering I and II classes for summer that will put me a year ahead. The email came 24 minutes before the Music Business office’s self-appointed deadline for releasing the information. I swear, they’re so unorganized here… how do they expect us to pay them more?!
The email informed me that I got into Audio I for second session of the summer term. Let me explain: because I didn’t get into it for first session, I can’t take Audio II second session. So, I won’t be a year ahead. In fact, I’ll simply be in line with everyone else, taking Audio II second semester (since I didn’t get into that class for the fall either). Piss!
Also, apparently my previous post has let loose the news that I’m a freak. Yes, my dream was funky. But I think I may have been enlightened by Em Fitz, who said (in a spooky voice), “Maybe it means, ‘Don’t get a big head…. you’re not that good!’”
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First of all, I woke up this morning at 5:55–probably because I was deathly afraid of missing my Rec Tech final. I got up, “ran some errands”, then hit the sack again. When I got up the next time, at 7:30, I’d had this weird dream. Let me preface it by saying that I have always had dreams–never been one to not have them–but they’ve never been very vivid; always kind of blurry and surreal. Lately, they’ve been frighteningly detailed, and I wonder if it means something. Here’s the one from last night, and I’m recounting all the details I can remember because I don’t know what means what:
We’re all sitting in a small, informal room of about 20′ x 20′ singing praise and worship songs. The room is filled with around 10 people sitting on couches that line the walls. If you’re looking bird-eye at the room, the door is at the bottom left. Dave Hunt, sitting in the top left corner, is leading the songs, and he has a small guitar about the size of a ukulele that he’s playing. The guitar’s frets skip the sound hole like a normal guitar, but continue after the sound hole. I am sitting at the bottom right corner with another guitar, this one if full-size, and I think it was my old Takamine. I have been lightly playing along the whole time. Dave finishes a song, and then before he starts the next one, he looks at me and says, “I’ll handle the audio.”
The song is over, though I don’t remember him doing a song, there’s just a vague idea that a song has just been done. The next thing that happens is that Dave and I, along with everyone else, get up. He starts walking in my direction to fetch his little guitar case, and I circle around him. He sits down on the couch, the same place I’d been sitting earlier, and I stand before him. As he is putting up his little guitar, he looks dead at me, unlike most do when scolding, and proceeds to tell me that there was no need for me to add to the instrumentation. “When you tried out for Refuge, I just knew you thought you were better than everyone else.”
“Dave, I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression of me,” I began to cry. I looked at him, and his eyes were in brilliant detail. I could see the small, red lines in his bloodshot eyes. “Ask anyone, they’ll tell you I’m not like that! I know I’m not good, Dave, I know it!” Heather Schutz sat next to Dave up on the back of the couch nodding earnestly in agreement. “But I want to get better, that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to be a rock star, but I want to be a better guitar player. That’s why I’m here, to sharpen, like iron on iron!”
And that’s it. I don’t know why. That was such a weird dream. It seems so out of character for Dave, though I don’t know him as well as some others do, and what he said cut me deep, but I don’t think it’s something that applies to my guitar playing. I wonder if it’s something that applies to another part of my life. I wonder if I’ve missed the point of the dream entirely.
Note: I didn’t try out for the Refuge band. I’d thought about it, but reconsidered because of my schedule.
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The events of the Memphis Road Trip have already been far too monumental to keep them to myself. First off, we’re on our way from Nashville to Memphis, and we hit some massive traffic about 20 miles short of Jackson. After perhaps 10 minutes of the parking lot, we’d only moved a mile or so. But have no fear! The Tennessee Highway Patrol is always there to help! Driving along the highway, and nowhere near an exit, we see ole John Brown standing there directing traffic. I must again reinforce the fact that there was no option except forward. Please allow this idea to sink in before we continue.
After we checked in to our hotel (which was clearly a most excellent option, seeing as how George Clinton and his parliament had also chosen this hotel… yup… I ain’t playin’), we set out to hit the concert site. Unfortunately, we missed the correct exit… and ended up in Arkansas. Clearly we had gone too far. But we didn’t miss the exit because we had no idea where we were—although we didn’t—we missed our exit because there was a car of hot girls, and our cars had begun flirting. The best was when I drove up to them on their left side and Chun put some man-nipple pressed against the glass. They freaked. Hilarity ensued.
Within an hour of arriving on the concert site, we’d already had several hilarious encounters. First—and when I say Old Guy, I really mean Old Guy—there’s this Old Guy dancing in front of us, plastered as all get out, and taking pictures with the high schoolers. What’s sad is that Old Guy was probably already old when this booze-and-reefer-at-concerts culture started back in the 60’s and 70’s.
Then there’s Drunk Guy on a Rascal. If you think drunk driving is dangerous… get a load of this guy! He’s powering through a crowd of people, bowling people over ‘cause he can’t control his rotary acceleration on the handlebars. There nothing more frightening than a Drunk Guy on a Rascal headed straight at you.
Well, that’s all I can think of for now. I just thought it necessary to record all this before we back to the concerts tonight and get second-hand high and forget it all.
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