Jonquill's

StayCation 4: Biometric Noise Rock

In Uncategorized on November 10, 2010 at 11:42 am

Straight up, my body has absolutely no idea it’s on vacation.  None.  And it cannot be convinced.  My body is the Catholic Church and I am Galileo.  Actaully that’s probably a bad metaphor because then my body would have to have me put under house arrest.  Which…actually, when you think about it means my body would have me held within its confines, so technially having corporeal form at all, having my spirit self held and beholden to the laws of physics would itself be the punishment, if you consider that I could be a free floating conciousness l0ose among the zephers and spirits of the universe, in all times and all places at once..  A being of pure understanding and experience, rather than one tied to physiological needs and temptations.  I could be a God without judgement.

This is all my way of saying that I can’t seem to sleep past eight o’clock, cause my body keeps waking me up to go to work.

Stupid body.  Not letting me sleep, and keeping me from being a zephyr God without judgment.  Stupid.

(No longer heliocentric sun is no longer heliocentric.)

Every morning so far, it’s been the same.  Starting somewhere around seven o’clock my entirely internalized alarm clock starts kicking around my brain; rattling a few random neurons that are really just trying to nap out.  It kicks this one then that one with the arrhythmic insistence of a noise rock drummer hopped up on a couple of those four loco things the kids are always babbling about on the twitters.

And my conscious mind starts to stir, along with the understanding that I have absolutely no need to be on the G train by eight twenty as per the usual day.  And my sensible Ego finally does come to, having been jostled so, and tries to convince my over zealous SuperEgo who is now stomping about in my brain, yelping “Late!  Late!  Emails will be missed!  They will order breakfast without you!  You will go hungry and die without home fries!  LAAAAAAATE!”

And my Ego would try to break bread with the neurotic bits slam dancing through my cranium, but it’s obvious there no talking to them.  So, without thought, on the sheer basis of body memory, my feet lift my still shuddering frame and carry them into the shower.

“You.  Are.  On. Vacation.” Screams my roommate from outside the bathroom door.  “Why are you showering at seven thirty in the morning!”
“I don’t know.  I really, really don’t know.  Hey, Roommate?”
“Yeah?”
“We need soap.”
“Fucking shit!  Go back to sleep!”

So yeah, there’s that.

Awake at seven, showered and awake by eight.  Time for productivity!  StayCation day four would see the makings of so many works of John it would shudder under the weight of my gathered productivity.  Shower?  Taken!  Blog?  Posted!  Tea with honey? Thanks very much, I will indeed…ahhhh…and…DRANK!

To the coffee shop with me!

Now I know I live in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.  I know this is the land of artists and freelancers and telecommuters and social networking mavens for whom the word cubicle means absolutely nothing, but for some reason I’m consistently surprised when I walk into a coffee shop in a residential neighborhood and find it packed during business hours.  My knee jerk mental reaction is the greatest indication that I am indeed getting old.  That reaction is…

“Why the fuck aren’t you people at work?!”

I consciously know that most them ARE probably at work in a way.  Each seat filled by someone staring thirty feet deep into their shiny MacBook Pro.  (This is Brooklyn.  PC’s are not allowed.  Every coffee shop in and around the ‘Burg looks staggeringly like a Apple Store.)  And it’s not that I mind the company.  The problem is my laptop.  She’s…a bit raggedy.

To start it up you need to turn a crank a couple times and play it Glenn Miller.

My laptop will be ten next year.  It’s slightly intimidating walking trying to load out your clunker out onto the counter beside a rig that’s already using that Xbox Kinect thing and no long requires its user physical contact, instead absorbing input by simply watching its user rave in front it.  It no longer needs battery power.  It simply absorbs slightly smug satisfaction, and processes that into it’s own energy, as well as expelling a byproduct that tastes surprisingly like cappuccino.  (Also contains pomegranate juice.)

Mine starts up with the chunk of gears barely catching and instead of making that universally recognized Mac start up sound, it wheezes like an octogenarian trying to take a shit.

But most importantly, the battery, now discontinued, and more expensive to replace than my laptop is worth, holds approximately two Nerf Herder songs worth of juice.  An outlet is required for me to function.  But, of course, these are the most sought after objects within the coffee shop.  They are fucking golden.  And you’re not just going to give it away.  (What is it with me and year old references?  I’m sorry.  I can only assume I’m just clearing them out, to make room for new dated references.)  It might not take much to charge these new computers these days, or so I hear from my nephews.  But the point of these coffee shops is to replace your living room.  You scam off their wifi, their electric, and their refills, so you don’t have to bothered with setting that shit up at home, and can continue your bohemian life style underneath a RENT poster you light a candle to every day.

Or something.

Anyway.  All that said and ranted and grumbled about…found a dude who got me an outlet and helped me plug it in.  I repent my earlier rant.  Dude’s were cool.  I wrote some.

See.  Damnit.  See how boring it is when things go all smooth.  I went to a coffee shop.  Nice man let me use his outlet cause his laptop was all powered.  I had coffees and made with the writting.  Tra-la-la!  Damnit, people, be more surly and give me shit to bitch about.

My productivity finished I headed out into the night with the gents.  And there’s not too much to report.  It’s not that a good time wasn’t held.  It was.  It was fantastic.  But I saw a stand up comedy show.  And reporting on Stand Up is literally explaining the joke.  I will add these notes, however.

Go to Tell Your Friends.  It’s a fantastic deal.  Only five bucks and you’ll see some serious comedians doing some serious playing about.

Chris SHOCKWAVE Sullivan, simply through beatboxing, lead us through a DJ set, his musical rendition of doing the dishes, and shot a baby.  It was damn impressive.  Even better, he went to college with Roommate, who was in no way expecting to see him there.  That was a fantastic reaction.

Wyatt Cenac is funnier than I expected.  It’s not like he’s not hilarious on the Daily Show.  He is.  (Example line, about a Martini: “Wow, that’s dryer than Harriet Tubman’s vagina.”)  I just didn’t expect him to be funny in the way he was.  It was a well directed rant, with these awesome details and quips hung on every other line.  It was a journey and it was a completely enjoyable one.

I am happy as shit that the headliner for the evening was Eugene Mirman.  I can’t think of another comedian I’d rather see just dancing through theories, ideas, and quippy quandaries trying to find what might be his next bit.  I won’t ruin any of the ideas he rambled through over the course of his set, on the off chance that we’re all listening to them on the next album.  I will say this, though.  Alta Vista, bitches.  I heard it first!

Okay then, right.  Let’s look at the big board then shall we?  See how this StayCation is rocking:

Going Out Adventures:
Number of events attended: 6
Amount of total cover paid: $5

Okay, on this count, I’m kicking ass.  Six events in four days, and only five bucks paid in cover.  That’s averaging out to be less than a dollar a weirdness.  I rate myself kick ass in this respect.

Writings:
Blog entries written: Four for four.
NaNoWriMo Word Count: 11,621 (Written this week.  2,126)
Radio Play workings: Have read all episodes now, and have notes for the entire run.

Not as hot here.  I’m still kicking with the regular blog updates so that’s cool.  And the novel is on pace to hit 50,000 words by the end of the month, but still only two grand added to the word count this week…I can do better damnit.

Jobs and Job Related Stuff:
Jobs applied for: 0
Times mentioned Steve Jobs on this blog: 0

Ummm…I’m going to say those things balance each other out?

Not watching TV/Netflix
Number of hours spent watching TV: 1 hour
Number of hours spent watching Netflix: 0 hours
Number of hours spent playing video games: 2 hours.

Okay, I watched How I Met Your Mother and South Park.  Those are traditions in this house.  People come over to watch them.  Foods are sometimes made.  Liquor is sometimes drank.  These are events.  I think I can be forgiven.  But still rocking some perfection on the Netflix, no matter what you say.  My Xbox has not been on all week!  The video game hours shouldn’t count either.  That was Angry Birds on the subway.  They released new levels!  How am I supposed to resist that?!

Weird Side Projects:
Time spent playing Banjo: 0 hours.
Time spent fucking with the Abomination: About 2 hours.


Why do you hate me?

 

Me: I don’t hate you, banjo.  I don’t.  It’s just…I mean, I’ve never played a musical instrument, and yer tough…with your chords and your finger picks and your forward rolls and yer what not…

 

You have time for the axe-y thing.

 

Me:  Well I mean, that’s kind of mindless and it is sitting in the middle of my floor, so it’s kinda hard to forget about it.  Oh, I sanded the thing yesterday and added some tape to the handle to hold it together, it’s really starting to look cool.

Me:  I’m mean it’s really coming along!

Why would you show me that?  Why?  That’s just cruel!  I’m so…so alone…

 

Me: Banjo!  I’m sorry, we’ll work on that G chord thing today!


That’s the open chord!  Forget it…I’ll just do what I always do.  Walk in the rain, scaring   NorthEastern’ers by playing Dueling Banjos…by myself!!!

Me:  Banjo.  Banjo!  Fuck…well, that’s another thing I have to tend to.  Anyone have the TAB for Rainbow Connection?

(Wondering what all this StayCation business is about?  Read from the beginning.)

Wednesday: This bodes to be an interesting and busy day.  First I’ll be catching Jennifer Egan reading at The Center for Fiction.  I thoroughly enjoyed her most recent book, A Visit from the Goon Squad.  A book that contains an entire chapter in PowerPoint form.  Rather than sully her awesome verbiage with my own, I’ll instead point you to read said powerpoint chapter.  I defy you not to want to read the rest of the book after that.  After I cut out from the reading, I’m off to a party called Impact.  To quote the lady who invited me, “You wanted different.  I’ll give you different.”  And indeed, by all appearances I shall.   God knows what I’m in for this time round.  Luckily I do have a small harem of self-appointed “chaperones.”  So this should be interesting.

 

Da-da-DA-da-DA-da-DA-da-Daaaaaa…

 


……………………………………


…sigh…


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  1. I love your banjo talk! I have also been feeling like talking to my cello lately, though the conversation would go more like, “Oh, why cello… why can’t I get better through osmosis? Practicing is just not working with my schedule.”

  2. Banjo chat was funny as hell.

  3. I do at least know how to read tab now. Really if anyone knows how to get the TAB to Rainbow Connection. Soooooo not kidding.

  4. […] 4. I fought with my sad banjo. It longs to be picked. That was a bad pun.  Sorry. #sadbanjo […]

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