Blog: SVU

I must say, I think today was a great day.  It started off shit, but picked up.

It started off shit because last night turned to shit.  What started as
a nice time out went bad at some point, though I don’t know when.  I
went to the bar with John Berry and we were having a few laughs.  Berry
left, as he had a date, and I stayed to finish my beer (my current
crush on the cute bartender girl didn’t rush me out the door either).
As I was sitting at the bar and looking around, I realized that I had
turned into one of those people.  I was sitting at a bar alone.  Sure,
I was talking to the cute bartender girl, and that was fun, but I was
still that guy.  I was surronded by people who were with thier friends
and there I was, alone.

Usually
doing things alone doesn’t bother me, I rather enjoy it.  I like going
to movies alone.  I like taking long walks.  It’s something I picked up
from my parents.  My mother can go days without speaking to anyone and
smile the entire time.  My father will often take off for long jogs or
bike rides.  This time it did bother me.  So, instead of doing the
smart thing and going home, I decided to drink more.  And more.  Before
I know it, I’m hanging out with the cute bartender girl, who is now off
duty, and her mom who is visiting from NY.  I’m rather sure I was
something of a babbling fool, as I know I kept talking while my mind
was screaming "SHUT THE HELL UP!"  I don’t think I said anything
horrible.  But then came the final blow.  Cute bartender girl’s
boyfriend showed up.  I can’t remember his name, but I was introduced
to him.

There
was that odd feeling too.  The odd feeling that we both knew I was/am
attracted to his girlfriend.  Now, I won’t do anything about my
attraction as she is seeing someone and that just ain’t my style, but
the feeling was still there.  Boyfriend and I didn’t talk much, just a
quick pleasantry and that was all.  I still stuck around for a bit
more, though I don’t know why.

I came home, put on some DVD and crashed.

I
woke up at 8 am, feeling horribly depressed and slightly hung over.
After a bit, I left the house and went to see Batman.  I enjoyed it,
and sitting in the theater alone reminded me that I liked the quiet.
On my way out of the theater, I found a bit of paper in my pocket, a
reminder to stop by the bar.  As I didn’t remember why I would want to
go to the bar, I decided to follow the mystery.

I
went in and cute bartender girl was there.  She handed me a book, and
it all came back.  She had promised to lend me About a Boy by Nick
Hornby.  I love the movie, but had never read the book.  I stayed at
the bar for about an hour, drinking some water and chatting.

I
returned home and called my dad.  We talked about music (Eels and
Springsteen to be specific) and about where I may be moving to.  I
think it occured to both of us, though he may have figured it out
sooner, that we don’t talk as much as we should.

After
the phone call, I sat down to read a few chapter of About a Boy.  Seven
hours later, I finished the book.  It was great.  Very much like the
movie, but very different as well.  I find that I can relate to both of
the main characters, Will and Marcus, more then I would like to admit.
I understand Will’s feelings that relationships with people is pretty
much just a way to get hurt, and I can relate to Marcus’ need to have
people to rely on.  I guess that’s the whole point though, isn’t it?
We all want to be safe and never have our feelings and emotions fucked
with, but we all need people too.

My
room mate is moving out this week, and with luck I will be too.  Part
of it makes me sad, as I have lived with Paul for three years.  It feel
like a chapter in my life is ending, and while I knew it would sooner
or later, I guess it never really hit me until today.

As
I spent my day learning about a boy, here’s one of Badly Drawn Boy’s
songs from the great soundtrack.  "Something To Talk About"…

I’ve been dreaming of the things I’ve learnt about a boy
  Whose bleeding, celebrate to elevate
  The joy is not the same without the pain

Ipso facto
  Using up your oxygen, you know I’m shallow
  Calling out for extra help
  You’ve got to let me in or let me out
 
  Oh something to talk about
  Yeah something to talk about
 
  I’ve been dreaming of the things I’ve learnt about a boy
  Who’s leaving nothing else to chance again
  You’ve got to let me in or let me out
 
  Oh something to talk about
  Yeah something to talk about

Chaz, ever the great friend, put a horrible image in my head the other
day, an image that I can’t get rid of.  That image is of any of my ex’s
having sex with thier new biyfriend while listening to a mix tape/cd I
made for them.  I laughed at the image at first, but then it began to
depress me.
It’s the idea that something I made just for them,
something that there is only one in existence, something so very
personel (I put a good deal of thought and time into every mix I make)
could now be defiled like that.  Ugh.  Just… ugh.
In my mind,
these past gals have lost or destroyed the mixes I made.  Those ideas
don’t fill me with glee either.  I would hope that these mixes would be
something they could use when everything seems against them.  Something
they can put on and think "No matter what happens, here is proof that
someone thought I was special".  Now, I don’t make mixes just for
girlfriends, I’ve made them for friends and family as well.  I’d made
them  for myself before my ipod.  But for this thought, it focused on
the ex’s.
So Chaz and I were joking about a girl I have made a mix
for listening to it while fucking her new boyfriend, and it was funny.
Then it went to far and the image got stuck in my mind.  Now I’m trying
to get it out, but it just isn’t working.
So Chaz, you suck.

"I Think I Need A New Heart" by The Magnetic Fields…

Time stands still
  All I can feel is the time standing still
as you put down the keys
  and say don’t call me please
  while the radio plays

  "I Think I Need a New Heart" ohhh
  "I Think I Need a New Heart" ohhh

  You’ve lied too
  but it’s a sin that I
  can’t tell the truth
  cause it all comes out wrong
  unless I put it in a song
  so the radio plays
  "I Think I Need a New Heart"
  just for you
  "I Think I Need a New Heart"

  cause I always say I love you
  when I mean turn out the light
  and I say let’s run away
  when I just mean stay the night
  but the words you want to hear
  you will never hear from me

  I’ll never say "happy anniversary"
  never stay to say "happy anniversary"

  so I think I need a new heart ohhh
  I think I need a new heart ohhh
  I think I need a new heart ohhh
  I think I need a new heart ohhh
  Give me time

Trying to make a connection with a cute bartender girl will ensure you two things…
1- You will get drunk
2- You will agree to some stupid ideas

On Friday, John Berry, Riffo and I went to the bar next to my comic
shop.  Cute Bargirl was behind the counter, serving it up.  The subject
of comics came up and she mentioned that she used to read, but comics
are too expensive now.  I offered to lend her a few good comics to
check out.

Berry

and I returned Saturday, comics in hand.  The place was dead, so I
pretty much had Cute Bargirl to myself.  There was one rather drunk and
creepy old woman who kept touching me, but

Berry

played interference and took care of that problem. 

Berry

rocks.  Anyway, Cute Bargirl and I talked about movies, music and a
slew of other subjects.  She was cool, smart and funny.  Her shift
ended at about nine, but she stuck around to have a beer or two with
me.  It was good times.  At some point, I agreed to make her a mix cd
with at least three Eels songs on it. She’s never heard Eels and that makes my heart sad.

I walked her back to her car, pushing off the peeps I was supposed to
meet in Hollywood for over an hour now (sorry guys!).  We talked some
more.  We hugged.  She gave me her phone number.  Then she told me
about this guy she just started seeing.

She asked me if I would stop by the bar today.  I said no.  Not because
of her having a boyfriend, but because I felt I had already drank more
then enough for one weekend.  In truth, Cute Bargirl is a cool cat and
she would be a fun friend to have.

I rushed over to Hollywood
and met my friends.  We went to see our boss’ band.  The music isn’t my
style but damn can they get the energy up.  We then went to celebrate
Dan’s wife being the greatest dancer in California (she won a contest
that very day, congrats Sin).

I got home and crashed.  I could barely walk and everything had a nice blur to it.

I woke up with this song in my head, along with a horrible pounding.  Daniel Johnston with "Life In Vain"…

Don’t want to be free of hope
And I’m at the end of my rope
It’s so tough just to be alive
When I feel like the living dead
I’m giving it up so plain
I’m living my life in vain
And where am I going to?
I got to really try
Try so hard to get by
And where am I going to?

I don’t know where is up or down
And there ain’t any love left around
Everybody wearin’ a frown
Waiting for Santa to come to town
You’re giving it up so plain
You’re living your lives in vain
And where are you going to?
You’ve got to really try
Try so hard to get by
And where are you going to?

Flip on your TV
And try to make sense out of that
If we were all in the movies
Maybe we wouldn’t be so bored
We’re giving it up so plain
We’re living our lives in vain
And where are we going to?
You gotta really try
Try so hard to get by
And where are you going to?

Goodbye, goodbye

I was having a good sleep in my car
In the parking lot of the Showboat Casino Hotel
I said, "I remember you! You drive like a PTA mother."
You brought me draft beer, in a plastic cup.
I’m feeling thankful for the small things today
I’m feeling thankful for the small things today

Happy, happy birthday to me.
  Happy birthday to me, and to you.
  Happy, happy birthday to me.
  Happy birthday to me, and to you.

I’m feeling thankful for the small things today.
  I’m feeling thankful for the small things today.

I remember you, I crashed your wedding.
With some orange crèpe paper and some Halloween candy.
Sometimes I wish I were Catholic–I don’t know why
I guess I’m happy to see your face at a time like this.

Happy birthday baby, to me.
Happy birthday baby, to me.

I moved to Chester NY the day I turned 18.  I was living less then a
mile from where I was born.  I had this upsetting feeling that my life
had gone full circle already.  The interesting part of all of this was
I had the ability to gage who I may have become if I had grown up there
instead of in Queens.  For the most part I would have been a totally
different person.

For the most part (I made a small group of friends that I still love
today, but this is about everyone else) the people were creepy.  I was
once asked how I got a job at McDonalds.  I was a minor celebrity
because I worked the overnight shift at a gas station and had no
problem selling beer after 3am.  There were no book or record stores.
Most of the people were dirty.  Like they hadn’t showered in the last
decade dirty.  The majority of the teenagers thought that they were
gangstas.  There were four police officers on duty at a time.

Thank god for Jeremy, Sty, Lori, Palmer and Scott.  Without them I would have gone insane.

This is a Wierd Al Yankovic song…

Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    Well, it’s time to celebrate your birthday, it happens every year

    We’ll eat a lot of broccoli and drink a lot of beer

    You should be good and happy that there’s something you can eat

    A million npeople every day are starving in the street

    Your daddy’s in the gutter with the wretched and the poor

    Your mama’s in the kitchen with a can of Cycle Four

    There’s garbage in the water

    There’s poison in the sky

    I guess it won’t be long before we’re all gonna die

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    Well, what’s the matter little friend, you think this party is the pits

    Enjoy it while you can, we’ll soon be blown to bits

    The monkeys in the pentagon are gonna cook our goose

    Their finger’s on the button, all they need it an excuse

    It doesn’t take a military genius to see

    We’ll all be crispy critters after World War III

    There’s nowhere you can run to, nowhere you can hide

    When they drop the big one, we all get fried

    (Come on boys and girls, sing along, ok?)

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    wow! (background screaming, sound effect)

    Well there’s a punk in the alley and he’s looking for a fight

    There’s an Arab on the corner buying everything in sight

    There’s a mother in the ghetto with another mouth to feed

    Seems that everywhere you look today there’s misery and greed

    I guess you know the Earth is gonna crash into the sun

    But that’s no reason why we shouldn’t have a little fun

    So if you think it’s scary, if it’s more than you can take

    Just blow out the candles and have a piece of cake

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    wow!

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    Happy birthday

    Happy birthday to you

    (Happy Birthday!)

    And a pinch to grow an inch!

When I was in fifth grade, we were given an assignment to
write a story about an inanimate object. I spent days trying to come up with a good one, something heroic and
amazing. I started and threw away what
felt like thousands of ideas before the right one hit me. I decided to do my story on the life of a
pen. It was a short story, only five or
so pages, following a pen from the first time it’s cap is taken off until it
ran out of ink and was thrown away. The
pen, who I named Bic Smith, was proud to do his job. He was excited to be used on a test and some
home work. His owner took good care of
him. Then, as time went on, he was
getting tired. He couldn’t write as well
as he used to. The owner had to push
down a little harder, had to shake Bic up a bit before putting him to paper. Then, one day, Bic ran dry. He was tossed into the trash and sent to a
landfill. Bic knew that there would be
no happy ending.

My teacher called in my mother. Not because the story had a rather sad ending
that no fifth grader should be thinking about (how many fifth graders are
writing about death?). Mrs. MCDonald
called in my mother to discuss my writing skill. They both agreed I had some talent and should
be pushed to write more. Now, at this
time I wanted to draw comics. My brother
was the writer, I was the artist and I felt that it worked out well. All the same, every week I was given a
special assignment to write a story. As
the years went on, I saw that my art wasn’t improving much, but my writing was.

Thank you Mrs. McDonald. Without you, I wouldn’t have an outlet.

Continuing the birthday songs, here is The Smiths with “Unhappy
Birthday”…

I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday
I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday
‘Cause you’re evil
And you lie
And if you should die
I may feel slightly sad
(But I won’t cry)

Loved and lost
And some may say
When usually it’s Nothing
Surely you’re happy
It should be this way ?
I say "No, I’m gonna kill my dog"
And : "May the lines sag, may the lines sag heavy and deep tonight"

I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday
I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday
‘Cause you’re evil
And you lie
And if you should die
I may feel slightly sad
(But I won’t cry)

Loved and lost
And some may say
When usually it’s Nothing
Surely you’re happy
It should be this way ?
I said "No"
And then I shot myself
So, drink, drink, drink
And be ill tonight

From the one you left behind
From the one you left behind
From the one you left behind
From the one you left behind
Behind
Behind
Behind
Behind
Behind
Behind
Oh, unhappy birthday
Behind
Behind
Behind

I was raised a comic book kid. My father read them when he was younger
and my brother read(s) them as well. I had dreams of being Spider-Man’s
sidekick. I brought my Secret Wars and Super Powers toys everywhere. I
learned to read through comics. I wanted to draw comics. But I didn’t
buy comics. I always read my brother’s or got them from my dad.

Until one day in the early 90’s.

It
was the fall. Leaves and rain were falling, gray clouds filled the sky.
My brother asked me if I wanted to go to the comic store with him. He
naver asked before and I jumped at the chance. It was a two mile walk
to Little Nemo’s Comic Shop and I smiled the entire way.

When we
arrived at the store, it was like entering heaven. I had never seen so
many comics in one place. In my pocket was one dollar, enough to get
one comic. I had to choose carefully.

I spent what felt like a
year looking at each book. Superman, Spider-Man, Web of Spider-Man,
Amazing Spider-Man, Batman, Justice League America, Captain America. I
couldn’t choose. I was worried that my brother would want to leave
before I made my choice. Then I saw it.

I will swear on a stack
of Bibles that this comic spoke to me. It screamed out "I’M THE ONE FOR
YOU!" Flash issue 52. The Flash stood surrounded by three demons. Flash
had a smarmy smile on his face and was holding a IRS badge. I picked it
up and felt like a part of me was complete. The issue was written by
Bill Messner-Loebs and drawn by Gregg LaRoque and Jose Marzan Jr. The
second we got home I went into the kitchen (my room away from my room)
and read the comic. Then I read it again. And again. I must have read
it 100 times before the next issue came out.

In a three year
journy and over four years I went and got every back issue, annual and
special of Flash. My uncle got me the final piece for my birthday,
Flash issue 1. When I moved to LA I packed all my Flash issues and toys
(I have 12 Flash figures) to bring with me. Just about every girlfriend
I’ve had has made the mistake of asking "What is it about Flash that
you love so much?" It is always followed with a long answer. An answer
that takes at least an hour to explain.

This episode’s birthday song is by Cibo Matto.  "Birthday Cake"…

Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!

Yes, I’m cooking for my son and his wife
It’s his 30th birthday
Pour berries into my bowl
Add milk of two months ago
’it’s moldy mom, isn’t it? ’
I don’t give a flying fuck though

Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!
Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!

It’s food nouveau
It’s food nouveau
It’s the shape of love
Beat it! beat it up!
Beat it! beat it up!

Extra sugar, extra salt
Extra oil and msg
Extra sugar, extra salt
Extra oil and msg

Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!
Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!

You were born in the 60’s
We made a war with the vietnamese
We loved lsd, we died easily
Can we just say c’est la vie?
So what! say what! for your own sake
Do you have a headache or heartbreak?
Are you made or broken by the birthday cake?
You may be slow on the uptake
I pour pot in the birthday cake
So what! say what! for my own sake
Watch out yo! here I come yo!
I’m gonna change to a rattlesnake
Turn up the tv! do you agree?
Yeah, I’m talking turkey take it from me
I’m gonna show my love for my dove
’but it’s moldy, mom, isn’t it? ’

Extra sugar, extra salt
Extra oil and msg
Extra sugar, extra salt
Extra oil and msg

Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!
Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is very sweet!

More stories of
the past…

When I was young,
living in

Chicago

, I would often have my Star Wars toys fight a much bigger
Godzilla toy I had. For whatever reason,
this Godzilla had the ability to shoot one of his hands off. I would play with them from my second story
bedroom window. Down below was a
sandbox. Many a Star Wars guy would fall
to his death into the sand trap. Epic
battles took place on my windowsill.

I sometimes
wonder when I lost my ability to imagine that an action figure was able to move
and talk. As a kid, I created massive
stories that took me weeks to complete. Then one day, the stories crashed to a halt. It makes me sad.

When my parents separated
I was five years old. I remember being
told about what was happening. I
remember my brother crying. I remember
having to move to

New York

and living with my grandparents for a year. I remember that I got the chicken pox during
that year. I don’t know if I remember my
feelings at the time. I think I didn’t
care. I shouldn’t say I didn’t care, but
I don’t think there was anything in my life that this change would really
hurt. I kind of remember my brother’s
two closest friends from

Chicago

; I think they were Paul and Julie. I don’t remember any friends I may have had
at that time. I kind of feel bad about
that, but not really. Then again, I was
five, how much should I remember?

We’re going Beatles
today, “Birthday”…

You say it’s your
birthday.
It’s my birthday too – yeah.
They say it’s your birthday.
We’re gonna have a good time.
I’m glad it’s your birthday
Happy birthday to you.

Yes we’re going
to party party
Yes we’re going to party party
Yes we’re going to party party.
I would like you to dance – Birthday

I would like you
to dance – Birthday

Take a
cha-cha-cha-chance – Birthday

I would like you
to dance – Birthday

You say it’s your birthday.
It’s my birthday too – yeah.
You say it’s your birthday.
We’re gonna have a good time.
I’m glad it’s your birthday
Happy birthday to you.

The countdown to twenty eight begins! In a few weeks, I can say that I made it
through another year. To countdown this
event (well, it’s an event for me), I will tell stories of my past…

The Memorial Day weekend I was born was the same weekend
Star Wars was released. According to my
mom, there were many names considered for me. My grandfather wanted me to be a Joe like himself and my father. My mom wasn’t big on the idea. She wanted me to be named either Colin or
Liam. When my mom went into labor, dad
moved fast to get her into the car. As
the car started up, the radio came on and a song by Derek and the Dominos was
playing. My parents took this as a sign
and gave me the best name ever. My
mother agreed to have Joseph be my middle name.

For years my mom told me that from her hospital window she
could see three eagles flying in a circle. She took this as a sign that I would go on to do great things.  Years later we would learn that these were not
eagles, but turkey vultures.

I was born a month early and with jaundice. My chances of survival were not the greatest,
but my grandfather never doubted my strength. And, as you may have guessed, I pulled through. This was not the end of my ordeal
though. For a reason that has not been
explained to me, or if it has, I’ve forgotten, I was given baby formula instead
of taking from my mother’s milk. Turns
out that I was allergic to this formula and again became very ill. Again, my family stood by my side.

On August 16^th I was finally released from the
hospital. That day, Elvis and Groucho
Marx died.

To also celebrate my entering the world, I will be using
songs about birth and birthdays for every post. Today’s is “From Which I Came/A Magic World” by Eels…

Ten pounds and a head of hair

Came into without a care

What they thought were cries

Were little laughs

Only looking forward and moving fast

The little bundle had arrived

And I was happy to be alive

In a magic world

Long days and dreaming nights

Wide eyes take in all the sights

A little wonder goes a long, long way

Learning where to go and what to say

Say hello to your new son

Well he sure is having fun

In a magic world

Every moment’s built to last

When you’re living without a past

In a magic world

Another six days of 12 hours at work finished.  Yay.

It was
Mother’s Day today. I called my mom and found out that she is moving to
Virginia. She will be renting out the house while she is away, as she
plans to return in a few years. Turns out that a company out there
offered her some good cash and she took it. It seems odd to me, as I
can’t imagine my mom living anywhere else, but she sounded excited
about it. We’ll see how it goes.

I’m currently drinking and
trying to figure out what to do tomorrow. I know that laundry must be
done, but I want to do more then just that. I’m sure I’ll come up with
something. Right now I’m just waiting for Tom Goes to the Mayor to
start and listening to some music.

I also really need a shower.

This song came on the old iTunes and made me wish I had a girlfriend to play it to.  “World of Shit” by Eels…

in this world of shit
baby you are it
a little light that shines all over
must take over
and see us through the night

daddy was a troubled genius
mama was a real good egg
why don’t we just get together
for whatever
and see if it’s alright

i spent so many days
just staring at the haze
and i think that that’s a book
that i don’t have to write again

now when i rise i shine
i’ve got you on my mind
and the question isn’t if
the question is merely when

baby, i confess
i am quite a mess
so let’s get married and
make some people
more than equal
in this world of shit

i will make a pledge
to get down off the ledge
you and i belong together
and forever we will have
our love