self-titled: ^_^
2D2F
I guess i can do this.
So philly, or bensalem rather, was pretty much ho-hum. basically a lot of hard work, getting up at 4:30 to be at the warehouse at 5 to walk around drinking coffee and looking intimidating to the drivers and occasionally helping out with going over their delivery manifest or whatever. then at 10:30 or so we'd break, go grab lunch, and then to the room to nap. i watched a lot of ABC Family. saw family matters for the first time in ages, and of course plenty of full house, step by step, two of a kind and 7th heaven. then at around 7 greg and i would either grab dinner and head back to the SDO or head back to the SDO and then grab dinner. the night visit was to go over all the boxes that came back, run some queries and determine that yes, the drivers failed to report anything properly. i feel bad as hell for the SDO manager and his right hand dude. guy, scott, was there when we arrived in the morning, and stayed until past midnight. by day 3 his eyes were just scary to look at. A life of honest work like that I can do without.
No time to experience the wonderful bensalem nightlife, and i don't think i was missing anything. by 10pm i was wiped each night. then when i got home in an hour or two, forget about it. one thing i particularly enjoyed was not reaching for the wallet once, well, except when we saw van helsing (could have been a lot lot worse). aside from that, greg and i were living like kings. if bensalem and it's immediate surroundings had a national restaurant like applebees or chilis or whatever, you can almost guarantee we went there. and had appetizers and lunch/dinner and some beers. thanks staples!
so i'm driving home today, and i don't know what, but some stupid thing made me think about BRW. and i realized this: whenever i think about BRW i am, honestly, overcome with happiness that i no longer work there. It's like those times when you dream you're failing a class or missed a final or something and it's awful and then you wake up and are like "oh hey, i have my degree, eat my pants!" but A MILLION times better. Well, that scenario is more relief, the "hey, i don't work there anymore" is more along the lines of real bliss. i sound like i'm exagerrating here, but i'm not. I'm not a big count your blessings guy, but it's the kind of thing that makes me count mine. god damn i hated that job so much more than i ever would admit to while working there, and i admitted to it quite a bit.
played poker on friday, lost a little, not too much, no more than a night on the town, and poker lasted longer and i had more fun. full table, too, 11 people pretty steady for the night. bob busted it up early, and by early i mean 4am, just when i was hitting my stride. surprised i stayed awake, considering it was the day back from philly and i was going on 4 days of 4-5 hours sleep. but i think poker turns off the body's awareness of time. i mean, i sit there for 8 or 9 hours playing, and think nothing of it. 8 OR 9 HOURS. no breaks, just cards. it's awesome.
so after multiple visits to the comic shop last week, a few amazone book purchases here and there, i went BACK on saturday and bought another 10 or so books for like $25. i mean, how's that for value. i walked out of there with a bag FULL of goodies for twenty five bucks. also, i may have a problem. also, i downloaded the first 55 issues of some spiderman book by everybody's favorite (including seth cohen) brian michael bendis. i also picked up the first 2 of 3 books about a kid who discovers he's jesus.
speaking of seth cohen, i miss the OC dearly. i had a dream recently where i was hanging out with adam brody. probably shouldn't have told anyone that. to that i say eat my pants. last night i had a weird dream, a guy i knew was on trial for murder and i happened to be the prosecuting attorney. Bob from poker was the defense, but he was black. ANYWAY, i was pretty damn convinced that this guy on trial was guilty, but I was woefully unprepared for the case, plus the defense made cook case for character doubt. but i knew the reality of the situation was that the guy was creepy and very likely to murder someone, i just was doing a shit job establishing probable cause or character. there was a surprise witness (that unfortunately, was a surprise and i wasn't ready with any questions to bring out of him), anyway, this witness i think is my favorite part of the dream and, in fact, one of my favorite dream creations ever. The witness was a singular manifestation of the defendant's entire 5th grade class, ghostly in appearance, almost frankensteinian in composition, you could almost see it coming in and out of phase with reality and the voice was all changing timbre and shit. then i woke up. even with crazy 5th grade ghost collective,pretty sure i was losing the case.
i've been to two newbury comics and it's like both of them deny the existance of a new mirah cd. they have, literally, every other release of hers including the two side projects, but not the new one, and it's really pissing me off since the mp3s i got are hosed.
i keep waiting for an uncomfortably hot summer night so i can drink beer and listen to the music that is fitting of uncomfortably hot nights while drinking beer, but the heat will not come, and i guess that's ok. i try all the same, trying to recreate that musical feeling from those gross nights in the basement apartment on strathmore, or those early nights when the OC was just some show that happened to be on fox as i left the tv on after simpsons but then, oh wait, this show rules!, but without all the pieces in place it just doesn't work