FNG: RIP

Some of you are aware of the ongoing boy drama I experienced this Fall/Winter, which was highly entertaining, extremely hot, and intermittently frustrating. I've been on quite a ride, but I'm putting a stop to at least some of it for the time being. As of now, I'm shelving the homme you've come to know as Friday Night Guy. Let's just say the heat and the entertainment were superseded by the frustration, which is not what I want to start my 2006 with. I appreciate anyone who put up with my pain in the ass obsessive-ness over the last few months ("but ok, we did this, and this is what he said...what do you think it means? but it's HOW he said it...." BAH!) Done.

Of course, there's still Saturday Night Guy...

Can I dial "9" to get out of my life?

Is it wrong to be bitter at Christmas while you're with your family? Fuckit, I'll sidestep my self-imposed guilt trip and launch into a holiday rant.

My Dad got a "winter location" in Arizona earlier this year, a house not too far outside of Phoenix, for the times he feels that Cheyenne - with it's mostly mild winters - would be too cold. "In Arizona," he declared, "I can golf in February!" This from a man who picked up his clubs a total of seven times in my youth, despite having a membership to the Country Club.

I checked it out in late Spring, and it's very nice blahblahblah. Round about September, he decided that this is where Christmas would be. Now, I've lived in LA for almost 10 years and I've spent most of the Thanksgivings within that time in close proximity to a pool. But of the few things I know in my life, one of them is that Jesus wants me to celebrate his bday in a cold climate. In a place I'm familiar with. Near my childhood friends and at least three bars we've gotten drunk in during college in an effort to erase whatever familial obligations we had to endure that day.

Nope, not this year. This year, my Grandma would get to see the house, hang outside in 75 degree weather, and then force us to keep the HEAT on at night. I compose this from the coolest room in the house with a fan above me and a window open. Did I mention I get to sleep on a futon? And the room has another window toward the top of the wall that doesn't have a SHADE? Don't even get me started on my lack of a car to use as an escape to the nearest Barnes and Noble (where I spent a lot of my daytime last year).

This is starting to make my Mom look good.

God bless the two bottles of Asti in the fridge.

Merry Christmas.

Table for ?

Ok, I'm getting shit for not posting since last week. It's the holidays, I'm sick, and honestly, I have nothing of note to say, but in the interest of maintaining my loyal fanbase (*ahem*), I'll offer this cool little find. It's called Open Table . If you're like me and you love going out to eat and feel fancy for doing so, this is a great place to make your reservations and get something back for it.

Country BlueGrass Blues

Praise the lord, CBGB will remain open until Oct 31st.

Read the news here: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051208/ap_en_mu/music_cbgb_s_lease

Off the wagon

I lasted eight days and amazingly didn't go crazy when I kicked it back into gear. I celebrated the other night by stealing a pair of sake cups from a Japanese restaurant and almost getting kicked out of a bar for smoking.

Sober as a judge

I've taken a self-appointed sabbatical from drinking. Yup, I'm on the wagon. I'd had multiple social opportunities recently that afforded me the environment within which to drink excessively, and to be honest, I've gotten a little bored of it. So for the last week, I've been off the sauce.

Now, there are plenty of weeks that I've gone longer without social lubricants, but those were during far less popular times. It's a completely different story when you find yourself at a popular Mexican restaurant for a friend's birthday and no less than three tequila shots - FREE tequila shots (Don Julio, too!) - are passed under your nose at the urging of your friends. I passed on all of them. Where's my medal?

It was strange to sit there without a drink in my hand, the familiar anchor I'd grown so accustomed to. It's not that I feared I'd lose my social skills or be unable to carry on a conversation (hell, I was even able to flirt somewhat adeptly with the cute guy sitting next to me toward the end of the night). I think it's because I've felt that alcohol brings out the best parts of my personality: my humor, my charm, my bravado (wow, listen to me). Without something to wash down the initial awkwardness of any social situation, I'm left without a crutch, the sloppy veneer that I could hide behind.

What the hell, it's only 'til tomorrow.

Cheers!

Follow the beat...

I spent a large part of my long Thanksgiving weekend searching for used CDs and stumbled across two new bands (well, new to me):

Platinum Pied Pipers offer danceable hip hop (as opposed to crabby, thug hip hop), but what caught my attention is their groovy, jazz version of "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover". I love it when something so familiar can be remade by an unexpected genre.

Breakestra is a funk/soul group from L.A. Be sure to listen to "Hit tha Floor".

Seriously people

Answer the Proust thing in the comments section. It's not up there only for my own narcissistic tendencies.

In dreams...

Here are a list of some of the things I've dreamt about in the last week:

Big spiders in my house

Making out with a girl, who I think represented a guy I actually did go out with recently

Keith Richards asking if he could feel me up

Swimming with dolphins

Anyone wanna help me figure out my psyche?

Even better

Yup, still drunk. A glass of wine and five scotches, four of which were in the last two hours of the night. It beats a hangover.

Saw Spoon last night. Maybe not as rockin as past shows, but still fucking good. Total originals. Check em out at www.spoontheband.com .

Proust Questionnaire

James Lipton be damned, this is the real deal (please post your own answers - I reserve the right to change mine on any given day):

Your most marked characteristic?
Humor
The quality you most like in a man?
Chivalry
The quality you most like in a woman?
Support
What do you most value in your friends?
Loyalty
What is your principle defect?
Jealousy
What is your favorite occupation?
I'm lucky enough to do it
What is your dream of happiness?
Laughter and respect with those I love
What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?
Regret
What would you like to be?
Me, with a little more patience and security. And money.
In what country would you like to live?
I love France, but I'm so American I belong here.
What is your favorite color?
Blue
What is your favorite flower?
Rose
What is your favorite bird?
Cardinal
Who are your favorite prose writers?
Hemingway, Hawthorne, Salinger, Bret Easton Ellis, Jay McInerney
Who are your favorite poets?
Ugh, poetry
Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Holden Caulfield
Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?
Phoebe Caulfield
Who are your favorite composers?
Shostakovich, Vaughn-Williams, Tchaivoksky, Copeland, any of the minor Russians
Who are your favorite painters?
Rembrandt, Klee, Basquiat, Kandinsky, Hockney
Who are your heroes in real life?
Uncorrupted leaders, philanthropists, my grandparents
What are your favorite names?
Charlotte, Caroline, Zephyr, Ryan
What is it you most dislike?
Elitism
What historical figures do you most despise?
That's pretty obvious
What natural gift would you most like to possess?
Better discipline
How would you like to die?
Better than I am now, and old and loved
What is your present state of mind?
Anxious
What is your motto?
Choose your battles

Irony

Irony is when you take your car to the fancy car wash, the kind where they vacuum and dust and polish everything by hand, and then back into a guard rail just hours later and fuck up your bumper.

Feelin Kinda Patton

Check out Patton Oswalt sometime, either on TV (he's all over Comedy Central, both on his special -"No Reason to Complain" and his new road show "Comedians of Comedy"), or online: www.pattonoswalt.com (you can get live dates there, too). He's priceless. Hands down, my favorite comedian. No one touches my funny bone the deepest (NOT dirty). I picked up his CD last night (even my jaded ass will put down money for it) and laughed until I cried.

Jasmine Ong is a rock star

I was ruminating on my way to work today about the mission statement of this blog, and among the many points I came up with (which I'll go into another time, some even involve NOT talking about my hangovers), I decided for this instance I'd do a shout-out to a good friend of mine.

Some of you were lucky enough to have met Jasmine either when she was my roommate or while she was out here visiting a couple of years ago. I missed her birthday last month, so what better way to make it up to her than in a public forum.

Jasmine and I lived together for a little over two years, and she's by far been my favorite roommate. We shared enough in common to hold each other's interest (midwestern born, art lovers, music freaks) in addition to being different enough to make it interesting. Of all the memories we shared, my favorites involved the times we'd hang in the living room and bullshit and crack each other up. I was privileged to bear witness to her terrific talents as a friend, and have since been fortunate enough to be included in that group.

Travel took her away from LA in 2003, and she's now found a good place in Dallas to pursue her career in jewelry making (some of you have seen the awesome stuff she's made and given me). By the grace of technology, we've managed to keep in touch sporadically.

Anyway, congrats on another year, dude! I hope it rocked.

Brgunmdhft...

...is about how I feel right now. I went to see this really great band, Tim (yes, Tim) in the South Bay and they played until almost 2 AM. Check em out at www.timtheband.com. They were worth staying up for.

Random thoughts on a Thursday

I'm really getting into Death Cab for Cutie (or as my mother calls them, Bad Baby Caps - this from a woman who refers to Jane's Addiction as Alice's Revenge). They fulfill the inner angst I didn't feel enough as a teenager. Based on this logic, I guess I should revisit My So-Called Life, since I didn't like that back then, either.

By the way, NEVER get the Chinese at the food court in the mall on the promenade, unless you like chicken knees. Blech.

Listening to: Brendan Benson

Tonight: happy hour, then seeing a band in the southbay.