Bikes, friends, beer and tamales

Critical Mass last night was a blast. We went west, which is pretty rare for the Mass. Out past UIC and then north and by the United Center right as people were going in for the Blackhawks game, then north and west to Humboldt Park, then down to the Garfield Park Conservatory and back up through Humboldt, and then east down North through Wicker Park and Old Town to the beach. We did a good five-minute hold-up of the Damen/North intersection; a huge bike circle and bikes in the air, at least until the cops showed up and started circling the intersection with their sirens on...some girl Linda had cupcakes at North Ave. Beach, and I had about six of them.

I headed up to Danny's afterward, and hung out with him and Dani and Jenny, and Dani's friend Kathleen and Danny's sister Lisa. After they all left, Danny and I rode down to Club Foot where we met some of his friends, and I ran into these kids Frank and Michelle I met last summer, and got invited to Frank's birthday party next weekend, which I may be able to go to...some Mexican guy was selling hot tamales out of a portable cooler - it was just what I needed. Delicious.

Today I want to try and clean up - we'll see how successful that venture is.

The chain that fell off my bike last night is now wrapped around my heart.

I've been listening to Billy Bragg all day; since I woke up, pretty much. It's relaxing after listening to so much Alkaline Trio and Smoking Popes this last week, and several hours straight of loud ska last night. And Billy Bragg's music is so clean. I feel like its simplicity and elegance strips away a lot of the bullshit. Anyway, it's had the paradoxical effect of making me feel optimistic and melancholy.

Delilah's was a blast last night. A bunch of people showed, and I was able to talk to some of them a little bit. There was a gorgeous girl sitting right next to the DJ booth for most of the night, and we talked a bit, too, when her friends weren't around. Perhaps my melancholy is due to the letdown of seeing such a vision coupled with the realization that she had absolutely no eyes for me.

Or perhaps not.

Sometimes I feel like I'm a secondary character in people's lives. I told Laura once that I feel like I've had to rebuild my life a few times in the last few years. I'm still currently rebuilding, only this time, there's a much sturdier foundation and it should hopefully last much longer. I'm still amazed (and appreciative) when people I don't think consider me that close a friend make the effort friendship takes.

Dani showed up at 2am, right as I was walking out of Delilah's. I was able to give her the gift I had for her, and we went two blocks up Lincoln to the Golden Apple, where I had french toast and she had a vanilla milkshake, and we were able to sit and talk for a good while. Her brother's doing better, which was good to hear. We talked about life and relationships (or lack thereof) and it felt great to see her again. Like putting on an old comfortable pair of shoes, emotionally speaking.

I fixed some leg of lamb for lunch; it was delicious. I think my pudding is probably set now, for desert. In less than two hours I have to head out for tonight's Critical Mass entertainment. I may curl up for a little nap first, though.

Ska is the father of rocksteady, grandfather of reggae music

As soon as I'm done writing this, I've got to take off for Delilah's. I've got a mug of tea steeping at my side, which will join me in the car. I've a feeling I'll get there a bit early, but that's good since I'm sure I'll need to familiarize myself with the new setup.

I finished my bike maintenance, about 6 month's worth, give or take. It took fucking long enough, and I'll see how much more fun it is to ride tomorrow. Ah, well. That, combined with getting my shit together for tonight's DJ session, seemed to take most of the day. Well, I didn't get out of bed until noon. I dunno.

Yeah, I really don't have time to write anything really good, despite some things that have been percolating around in my head for a few days. Maybe tomorrow.

Pick it up!

I miss riding my bike.

Today I had planned to change the flat tire on my bike and then ride out and run errands. But...I was taking the tire off the rim, and saw that I'd shredded part of the tire as well as poke a gigantic hole into the tube. So I hustled everything back into my storage locker and drove out to run my errands (including buying new tires for the bicycle).

I ended up dropping two hundred bucks on bike stuff (including a jersey and somewhat reflective windbreaker, and maintenance armamentaria). I then went to the Rugby shop in Lincoln Park to return a sweater. That place made me want to puke. It's like Ralph Lauren is trying to capture the "wild youth" market. The logo is a skull and cross-bones on ratty preppy shit, way over-priced. It didn't help that the clerk looked like a certain fat hyperbeerhotic dickhead I intensely dislike, either. I just got a dress shirt, which is about all I could stand there.

After I got back, I started the bike maintenance. I put together the quickstand I bought, and started putting shit together:

1. I cut my hand with a screwdriver while prying open a plastic tab to adjust a light strap.
2. The hex heads on my rear fender were stripped out and I had to take out round-head bolts with a big wrench.
3. The holes on my rear fork for attaching the cargo platform I bought are too small for the screws! I have to get some longer bolts to wrap around the frame tomorrow.
4. The goddamn tires I bought are too fucking big!!!! I have to exchange them tomorrow.

The bike is still in pieces (somewhat) and still requires a good degreasing of the derailleur and chain as well. Tomorrow hopefully, I'll have time to finish it.

I met Paul and his friend Keith for dinner, which was pretty good, then headed up to SmartBar where Chuck Wren and the Mustard Plug guys were spinning. Chuck wasn't spinning much, though, and he walked out about the time I finished my beer. I walked out with him, and bought Vols. I & II of the Billy Bragg Box Sets off him at wholesale prices, too. Maybe I'll be able to listen to it this weekend...

Tomorrow I need to get all the music together for my Delilah's stint. I'm looking forward to that. Right now I really need to sleep, though.

"It's like West Side Story with Nazis."

I think I'm finally able to spend some time at home on my break, now. I haven't even had a chance to check my voicemail or e-mail today.

I met my family for lunch at Noon-O-Kabab, then gave Linda, Hossein and Natasha a tour of Chicago, including Lincoln Square, Lakeview, Lincoln Park, Wicker Park, the Medical District, and of course my place, before we headed up to Lincolnshire to see All Night Strut. The show was OK, nothing great. Maybe I just should've blown it off. I dunno.

I must've gotten a pinch flat last Friday when I was jaunting about town pretty hard, because my rear tire was flat today. At least this tube lasted two or three months. Tomorrow is bike maintenance day and then bike shopping day. And maybe also return-the-sweater-I-don't-like day. I need to also get some track listings together and start consolidating CDs for Delilah's on Thursday. I'd like to start back to school with shit in gear.

I was in Quimby's today with the relatives on our tour, and I wanted to buy so many books, but really, I need to read the shit on my shelf, first, before I buy any more. It was kind of enlightening to see the city with others with me; I definitely saw things differently. It's a sweet-ass city, that I can say.

You know, there were things I wanted to write, but can't remember now, despite all that shit I just put down. Or maybe I just have to go to the bathroom too badly to take the time.

Ain't nothing on the airwave in the despair we feel.

Driving home from my parents' tonight, I was listening to the radio (MP3 player battery was dead since it sat in the cold car all day), and sandwiched between Led Zeppelin and Tommy Tutone was some station motto about redefining new music or some shit like that. Riiiiight.....

Hopefully I'll get some good presents to keep my mind off things

From Salad Days:

"I'm rarely moved by people. Something about the women I tend to meet almost always turns me off. Something they wear, something they say, or the way they carry themselves. Everyone is so insecure and unmotivated. They collect dust, not accomplishments. I find people to be generally a let down. With women...something has to hit me. That punch just doesn't come all that often. I suppose I'll have a long and lonely life, waiting for someone to impress me."

I spent Christmas Eve cooped up with my (extended) family. I couldn't find anywhere to be alone. Some of it was good (the food, the drink) and some of it was annoying (letting my mom down when she asked me to go to church).

Tomorrow's more of the same, but with more people around. Hopefully I'll get some good presents to keep my mind off things.

Here's another pic from the Santa Rampage to keep your mind off things. You can see why we got kicked out of Binny's.


.....Merry Christmas.

It makes me laugh, smile, and feel happy and sad, and identify

Yesterday, Dr. Jackson brought a bunch of freshly made venison jerky from his hunting trip. It was some spicy shit; I just finished the last stick he gave me and my mouth is on fire, from my lips to my tongue. Good shit, even if it did make me cough and cry from time to time.

I'm reading Salad Days by Charles Romalotti. It's a great fucking novel, the kind I haven't read a lot of. Things that are just true. It's up there with American Skin and Hairstyles of the Damned as far as punk novels go. It's up there, really, with all of the good novels I've read, in that it makes me laugh, smile, and feel happy and sad, and identify.

I went to the London Calling show at Schuba's last night. It was pretty good. Not the Clash, though (not that I was expecting it to be). But I think tribute bands are best enjoyed with someone who can appreciate the tribute, and I went alone.

I really should wrap up these X-mas presents I have here, so I don't have to deal with it tomorrow or the next day when - ironically - family's in town and everything gets crazy hectic for the holiday.

Santa needs to keep warm at the North Pole

HOOORAY! It's Christmas Break! And for fuck's sake, this week I've been so tired I've had to nap almost every day, along with going to bed early and sleeping in. I can't wait to do it for ten days straight. Amazingly, I've got something to do just about every day of break:

-Sat 12/23: Go to my parents' house, do laundry and use sewing machine to fix pants and sew patches onto stuff.
-Sun 12/24: Pick my aunt Parvin and my grandmother up at Midway and go to my parents' to celebrate Parvin's birthday (and try to keep from going to church with my mom).
-Mon 12/25: X-mas! Presents! Fancy dinner!
-Tues 12/26: My mom got tix to All Night Strut for the family.
-Wed 12/27: Screw the Midwest Ska Fest, but I'll go hang out at SmartBar post-show for Chuck to spin.
-Thurs 12/28: I spin Delilah's monthly Ska Night. It actually looks like people will be turning out this time. (Fingers crossed)
-Fri 12/29: Chicago Critical Mass! The Return of the Santa Suit!
-Sat 12/30: (frown) just WNUR....
-Sun 12/31: Smoking Popes/Alkaline Trio at the Metro for New Year's Eve.
-Mon 1/1: Chicago Cycling Club Weather Be Damned Ride!
-Tues 1/2: Back to school....

Tonight I went down to Pilsen to meet up for the Circular Mass, but no one showed up. Oh, and I was wearing the Santa suit again. So I hung out at Tenochtitlan Plaze for 15 minutes waiting for people, then decided I might as well head up to Binny's and get some good beer for the Holiday. I plan to bring a few bottles of corked ale for dinner with the family. People get a good kick out of the Santa suit. I told the cashier at Binny's that Santa needs to keep warm at the North Pole. Next year I'm going to buy a beard, too.

I came home and downed a bottle of Young's Double Chocolate Stout while I browsed blogs. My internet connection is getting fucked up, and I'm getting hungry. I'm going to eat something and then think about heading up to Schubas for the Clash Tribute show (or at least the ride up there if it's sold out).

Yaawwwnnnnn......

I finally went grocery shopping. I spent less than $100, too, including alcohol. My goal is to get my groceries by bike from now on, so since I did this round of provisioning by car (not sure what I was going buy) I have a base to which I can add when it depletes. I plan to buy a rear rack and strap a milk crate on, and then with my messenger bag I should be able to cram a ton of stuff in. Even more if I get panniers. I don't think I'm at the trailer stage yet. Hah!

I bought wrapping paper too. I almost bought the Hannukah paper, just because.

Last night Dana and hung out late, first at Uncommon Ground, then Delilah's. She's told me I should grow my hair and beard out. I said no. Overall, though, a really fun night, though I got home at 1:30 and was beat today, despite not having to crawl out of bed until 8:45 this morning.

Tomorrow I plan to go on the Pilsen Circular Mass, probably in Santarific regalia, and then - if I'm not too shitted out - up to Schubas for the Clash tribute show (assuming it's not sold out).

If you scroll down to the picture of me in front of the karoake place, I think I'm yelling, "Gooooooooaaaaaaaalllllllllllll!!!!!" That, or singing, "Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg...." I remember doing both that night.

Right now I'm feeling exhausted and I think I'll go to sleep soon.

Enough water to fill me up (and make me wet my bed?)

Dude, I'm fucking starving. I had a little leftover sandwich about five and a half hours ago. I think I have a bag of chips in my bag, and that'll be dinner along with enough water to fill me up (and make me wet my bed?). Maybe tomorrow Dana and I can find going to the grocery store exciting, but I don't think so. We'll have to find something cooler to do.

What the fuck is wrong with those guys?!

Joe and Miki sent me a picture/card of Renee. That kid is cute, man. Shit. Although I doubt the snow she's sitting on in her Phoenix backyard is real.

I got my grubby little mitts on some pictures from Saturday:

Getting the day started at the Twisted Spoke:

Here we are after being evicted from the parking lot of Binny's Beverage Depot. That's me in the front, looking the other way.

Then we headed over Navy Pier and started climbing on shit. I'm hanging from the chain. Check out Dreidle Dan!



After the Pier, we rode around for a bit before winding up at Daley Plaza. That's me with the apple beer upended.


From there we headed over to Carson's, and slogged up the escalator to see Santa. Sadly, I don't have any pics with that imposter.


After the UIC Ortho X-mas party, I gave Rasha a treat for being naughty.


And Louie gave me one:


Then I was ready for Karaoke, but the place wasn't open yet! I have no fucking clue what I was yelling right then, but Bernie sure thought it was funny.


You can also check out other pictures from the Santa Cycle Rampage.

If you don't let someone in close enough to do that shit, you live a very fucking lonely life

Go check out some Santa Rampage video. If you look closely, you can see me, but I doubt you'll recognize me.

I finished all my patient care by noon today. I was free! Well, I had to print out a copy of my thesis for Dr. Botto. (Domo arigato, Dr. Ron Botto) And of course, while doing so, I spent 20 minutes cleaning up syntax that happened to cross my sight. I also read an article by George Monbiot about exactly how fascist this country is becoming.

Anyway, by the time I finished screwing around and ran that up to Botto's office for his perusal and dropped it in his box, and finally got out of there, it was a quarter past two, and I'd had no lunch. I snagged some fried chicken and then rode eight miles around town buying Christmas gifts. Some people I just have no idea what to get and know my parents will cover it with a gift from all of us; at least while I'm still in school I can get away with that...once I start making money I really should be able to buy a little something for everyone that deserves it.

I spent probably an hour in Myopic again and bought a bunch of books, half of them for me. I really need to stop this habit, since I don't have time to read them and my bookshelf is filling up with books for me to read. I'm looking forward so to reading them, but what the fuck? At least now I have no excuse to go in there for a few months, yet.

After coming home and reading a bit and doing some audio shit on my computer, I headed out to the Mercury Cafe a few blocks from here. A real laid-back, mostly empty coffe shop that has about 7 shitloads of floor space. There were actually a fair number of people in there, but the place is so huge it feels empty. They've got art on the walls, and the people at the counter are real friendly, and they have vegan food too for those of you who are dietarily impaired. I sat and read a bit while eating, then just sat and starting compiling a list of music to play at Delilah's next week while listening to the MP3 player for inspiration.

My friend Marissa in Montreal wrote me a card which I got today. I haven't heard from her in six months, so that put a big smile on my face.

I had an IM conversation with Laura that I'm going to post part of. Screen names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Laura: if you've never gotten a letter like that from someone you were really close to, then take my word for it when I tell you that it really fucking hurts
Darren: yeah, I bet
Darren: Marta told me I was an "obligation"
Laura: when she broke up with you, or before then?
Laura: that's pretty dick
Darren: the night of
Darren: of course, she denied it five minutes later
Darren: a few weeks before that she told me I felt like a burden
Darren: I felt like I'd been punched in the chest
Laura: ouch, yeah
Darren: especially since that's how I'd felt my parents had perceived me for a long time
Laura: rahul told me I was "heartless," and incapable of giving a shit about anyone other than myself unless it was to get angry at them
Darren: Rasshole
Laura: I thought he was right for a long time
Darren: suckage
Laura: i consider myself a fairly self-confident person, but it is amazing what people can do to you anyway
Darren: no fucking shit, man
Darren: of course, if you don't let someone in close enough to do that shit, you live a very fucking lonely life

The absence of that tight-in-the-chest I'm-really-into-someone feeling

When I can't fall asleep easily at night, I play games with numbers in my head. At some point last winter, I calculated how long Marta and I had dated and then what date it would be for that amount of time to pass after the breakup. The date was December 15, 2006.

That was two days ago. And aside from two friends of mine that I hadn't talked to in a while asking how long it had been since we broke up, and talking with Dani about breakups and dating, I didn't really think about it much. I think I realized at the end of the day that a milestone (admittedly, a self-constructed one) had been passed.

Today I've been listening to the new Hold Steady record, and while I don't know what Marta thinks of this record, I remember she thought highly in her review of the previous record at WNUR. And to top it off, there are plenty of themes on this record that remind me strongly of her, or at least what I remember her to be. Some of the songs are pretty good, though. Still, it's been making me feel lonely and melancholy. It's fucked how far under my skin this girl got; even though it's officially been longer since we broke up than we were dating, I still haven't completely recovered.

Last night as I was driving to WNUR, I was thinking about how it felt to be comfortable with the absence of that tight-in-the-chest I'm-really-into-someone feeling. It's actually a bit upsetting to me to get a crush on someone these days, as it's usually nothing that has potential to go anywhere, for many possible reasons. Or worse, the tiny potential to go somewhere is grossly outweighed by the massive potential for explosive destruction.

Newt Gingrich is a fucking asshole.

Like I said, Newt Gingrich is a fucking asshole. A racist shithead. And any Republican that voices support for his presidential campaign goes on my shitlist, even if they were previously a friend.

Gingrich cited last month's ejection of six Muslim scholars from a plane in Minneapolis for suspicious behavior, which included reports they prayed before the flight and had sat in the same seats as the Sept. 11 hijackers.

"Those six people should have been arrested and prosecuted for pretending to be terrorists," Gingrich said. "And the crew of the U.S. airplane should have been invited to the White House and congratulated for being correct in the protection of citizens."

In case you didn't know, the "six people" he refers to are six imams who were travelling home from a conference on how to improve relations between Muslims and non-Muslims, and were removed from their flight on US Airways because of the flight crew was scared of them. It's funny how praying is "suspicious behavior" when it's done by Muslims, but the fucking religious right wants their prayer in school. Racist shitheads.

Also, even after the imams were cleared by the FBI and TSA, they still weren't allowed to fly US Airways. And the company's management defended the decision on the basis of their flight crews' need for autonomy.

So fuck you, Newt Gingrich, you racist shithead, and fuck you too, US Airways.

Santa wants a girl who can beat him up.

Today was fucking awesome!

Okay, the rest of the week was OK, but compared to today, it fucking pales in comparison. And today isn't even over yet! I get to go to WNUR and rock the shit out of the place.

Right now my face and mouth are numb. I just got back from karaoke in Chinatown...and karaoke is fucking awesome. I guess it helps if you have a beer or ten in you, but it was the first time I did it, ever, and if you can find a song you know the rhythm to pretty well, it's a ton of fun. Of course, all the other ortho people I was with chicken-shitted out and left, most without singing anything.

I'm sure it helped that I was wearing a Santa suit, but I did something like five songs after they left, and at the end the Chinese people in the bar were all applauding. I think that's good, either for my singing voice or my gigantic balls. And judging from the fact that I was hoarse from shouting at people all day, it must have been the cojones. (Although, truth be told, it's easier to fuck up in front of strangers than people you see every day)

All told, karaoke is fucking awesome. If anyone wants to go with me anytime, just throw it down and I'm there.

I hit the Broken Spoke at noon for the Santa Cycle Rampage. And what a Rampage it was. Santa had a nice breakfast of fried egg sandwich and bloody mary (with beer chaser) before taking a leak and heading out to the street with his Santa compatriots. Another Santa had a minikeg on his bike trailer, and this Santa filled his bike bottle from it.

Santas then headed down Grand to Binny's. After heading in for Santa provisions, which for this Santa included Young's Old Nick barley wine and some apple lambic as well as a bottle of Duchesse de Bourgogne, Santas hung out in the parking lot and played bicycle games and sang along to songs like the Chipmunks' "What I Want for Christmas" and Dead Kennedys' "Holiday in Cambodia" until the Binny's grinch/manager kicked the Santas out.

Santas then headed down to Navy Pier, wishing all a Merry Christmas, Happy Channukah, or Happy Kwanzaa (although there weren't really any African people visible). At the pier, Santas rode to the end, and that's where this Santa really had to relieve his bladder, so he took another leak off the end of the pier. Right after he started, a tour boat started going by. Many Santas were waving, but this one was waving a little differently as he finished his micturatory adventure.

Santas also met some Navy girls, who coincidentally were visiting Navy Pier. Santa remarked that Navy girls are hot in Navy uniforms. Santa also remarked that girls in uniforms are hot, and that Santa wants a girl who can beat him up.

Santas rode around the Magnificent Mile, and even though Santas were wishing the Chicago PD a Merry Christmas, they still stopped two Santas and gave them tickets for having open containers. Santas feel containers should be open so the joy within can be utilized and shared.

Santas also climbed the "moose" statue at Tribune Plaza (Santa prefers to think of it as a reindeer statue) and Santa had to jump down when the cops showed up. Cops don't seem to like Christmas, Channukah, or Kwanzaa. Santas also visited Daley Plaza and the porto-potties there, and Santa consumed plenty of apple lambic there. After talking with some bad-ass skater kids about how bad-ass Santa is, Santas rode over to Carson's and travelled the magic stairs up to the top floor for a picture with the store Santa.

On the way down Santa stopped with a few other Santas to hump a few Christmas trees (and a Santa humped this Santa on a store bed too). At that point Santa had to leave his compatriots to head to Chinatown.

............................

I know I haven't posted much this last week, but really, it sucked, what with studying too much for easy tests and missing Jeremy Enigk's show at Double Door Wednesday night.

I did get to meet up with Dani though, and we talked for over three hours the other night, over food and beers. It was so good to see her; I don't even realize how much I miss her until I see her. So I guess Thursday night was pretty fucking awesome too.

Spurred Recollections

When I was too young to drive, and living in outer suburbia - and going to a private school with a wide drawing area, no less - I also distrusted my parents too much to let them have any access to my emotional state if avoidable.

In other words, I was too embarassed and afraid to admit that I would need them to really drive me anywhere to socialize, and my social life felt pretty constricted for the first two years of high school.

I could never have asked for money for a dance, let alone a ride to a girl's house. Never mind that my mom still pries all the time, but back then she had never been told that she's not entitled to run other people's lives.

Zzzzzzzeeeeeeeeooooooooooommmmmm!!!!!!!!!

I've been too involved in other shit the last few days to post...and I don't really have the time to do anything great tonight.

Quick recap: Hung out with Laura Saturday, with plenty of drama. Rode up to the winter bike clinic at Performance in Lincoln Park on Sunday, then dinner and studying at Iguana Cafe on Sunday. Yesterday I just was exhausted, but had to study for my craniofacial anomalies exam this morning. So I was up way early today, nailed my exam (I think) and then finally got a chance to nap this afternoon, before instituting my studies for Thursday's exams.

I think I'm going to cut my hair and shower now before crashing once again.

She didn't seem like such a poser, though.

At the Slackers show on Sunday, while I was working Chuck's table and talking with Trish, I saw the girl I met at the Deal's Gone Bad show several weeks ago across the room, alone. While I really had no intention of ever dating this girl, I really never called her since I just got busy and forgot. Now I feel like a dick for not calling. I was kind of relieved that working Chuck's table was a decent excuse to not walk to the other side of the room and talk with her.

There was also a girl there who looked uncannily like Marta, only taller and without glasses. But same retrognathic appearance, even. Like I said, uncanny. She didn't seem like such a poser, though. Of course, I never talked to her, so who knows? I fell for Marta's crap, so who am I to judge?

I've been so fucking exhausted this week. Only one patient tomorrow, and a presentation at lunch, then to do something...educational? I don't know.

We were making the kind of plans that didn't mean anything

Right now I'm listening to Rainer Maria, "CT Catholic."

It was the hottest summer ever and the traffic was a monster. You were sitting right beside me with your hand in my hand and we were making the kind of plans that didn't mean anything.

Those lyrics first impinged on my consciousness three and a half years ago, when in a fit of despair over a certain relationship with a certain girl I drove up to Wisconsin and then back to Oak Park on surface streets in the middle of the night, until I was too tired to cry any more.

On a totally unrelated note, the last few days I've been hibernating, effectively, just sitting in and overdosing on the West Wing DVDs I borrowed from John. Just a few episodes left...of the 4th season.

I also made it out to the Slackers show on Sunday night; Chuck needed someone to sell CDs while he was spinning, so he hooked me up with a bunch of CDs in exchange for working his table for him. I would've done it for free, but I won't turn down the free music. The Slackers were great - it's been years since I've heard them play "Run Away" or "Wasted Days." Liv even came down from Madison even though she had class the next day. So did Les, Ryan and Trish too.

Yesterday, after putting in some revisions on my thesis, I spent an hour in Myopic browsing for books. Many things did catch my eye. Hmmm...

Tonight I hope to bang out most of my presentation for Friday. Blech.

All we've gotten so far was a rain of little fucking ice pellets that sting when they hit you

Dana asked me out to the Hideout tonight to see her friend's band play, which was OK. Put it this way: I want to listen to Piebald's 4th record again. Plus I got a beer out of it, even if it was FreeBR.

After that, I rode up to Delilah's for ska night, and I ended up talking with Chuck for almost two hours. I was so hungry then, that I went around the corner to 3 Panchos and got myself a burrito before riding home.

We were supposed to have a ton of snow tonight. All we've gotten so far was a rain of little fucking ice pellets that sting when they hit you, and accumulate into slush rather than snow. Fuck that. It's sometimes annoying to bike through - probably since my shoes and socks got soaked - but it was fun nonetheless.

I got home after 1am. and now I'm just starting to get sleepy.

I'm spinning ska night at Delilah's Christmas week. Come out and keep me company; I'll play some songs for you.