Willie's Off-Brand Web Journal: July 8-July 20, 2004
Saturday, July 10, 2004:
This young couple is moving into an apartment on the floor above me, and one of their helper guys just carted a headboard with a big mirror on it past my window. Henceforth, those two shall be collectively yclept by the name "The Auto-Voyeurs."
Steve Knowlton unexpectedly dropped by earlier, along with Jessica and their new baby Dennis, which was a fabulous surprise. For a housewarming gift, they gave me a cool candle that's shaped like five cacti in a canoe. (Well, I think it's actually supposed to be a very wide planter, but it makes me happier to think of it as a canoe; I plan on whittling little oars for them from the sticks of Nestle Crunch ice cream bars.) They also gave me a nifty flyer for Steve's upcoming Pseudonyms concert at Liberty Plaza in Ann Arbor next Saturday at 5:00 PM: "Dance your cares away! Meet local eligible singles! Free drugs!" I think you should all go, as I will be.
Tonight, however, I'm headed to Detroit to see Luke Hess at the Berettamusic release party. He's Rita's fiance, as I think I've mentioned, and he's a really great guy in addition to being an awesome DJ. Luke remixed my song "Mufasa Kisses" in a spare, spooky style that interpolates bits of "De Sitter Horizons," and once it's mastered, I hope to post it for you to enjoy. It kicks, as some Hilary Duff character would probably say. Till then, you can download one of his sets at the above link if you have a cable modem or loads of patience... one of which I now have!
CURRENT MUSIC: I just realized that I've inexplicably been humming
"Funkytown."
CURRENT MOOD: Couch potatoey.
UNPLEASANT COINCIDENCE IN LIGHT OF MY PREVIOUS ENTRY: I just turned on
one of the many HBO channels I now have, only to see Just Married.
On the other HBO channels? Kangaroo Jack. I'm not sure I'll be keeping
HBO once this promotional period is over.
TIME: 7:56 PM.
Doot? | |
Thursday, July 8, 2004:
I spent my birthday moving into the Evergreen Pointe apartment complex in Ann Arbor. I spent the day after my birthday moving back out of the Evergreen Pointe apartment complex in Ann Arbor. I'm thinking that a public forum would be an inappropriate place to go into the specific details of why I left so quickly, because the Evergreen staff was very accommodating and friendly and apologetic (to the point of refunding my entire month's rent and waiving the fee for early termination of my lease), but I had a very uncomfortable and unpleasant birthday. Except for the bits that I spent alone in my apartment with the shades drawn, watching my new South Park season four DVDs in my underwear. That part was fun.
As luck would have it, my aunt Kimmey came to the rescue and recommended an apartment complex in Ypsilanti that's much more to my liking, and their staff was kind enough to speed the approval process up so I was able to move into a one-bedroom unit literally less than an hour after I arrived to scope out their available apartments. (This time, I brought my mom, aunt, cousin, and cousin's friend along with me, because I obviously don't know what I'm doing when I look at apartments alone.)
My new place is a spectacular Godsend of an apartment; I would honestly never have believed that I could afford such a palatial dwelling, but it's only $80 a month more than Evergreen, which works out to, what, an extra three bucks a day? (Of course, utilities aren't included here either, but I don't really need much light and I've instituted a strict "If it's yellow, let it mellow" policy in the washroom, so I don't think that'll be a problem.) It's got a huge walk-in closet, a dishwasher, an actual factual dining area which is being used for CD storage since I plan on eating in front of the TV every night, a laundry room, a patio, and a gaggle of aesthetically pleasing fireflies living right outside my window. Granted, I'm such a nelly about insects that I just now jumped about four feet when my mouse cord brushed my leg, thinking that something was crawling on me, but if I have to deal with one species of them, the firefly is a nice one. Seriously, this place is my dream apartment. If I'd designed my ideal space in The Sims, the only probable difference between that and my actual apartment would be the fact that this one lacks pulsating disco floors in every room.
So I've pretty much just been settling in for the past couple days. The cable guys came by earlier to hook up my Internet and TV service, and the ponytailed fellow who was giving me a tutorial on the features of Comcast got amusingly sidetracked during his spiel about the pay-per-view option: "You've got 24 hours to watch any movie you order, and you can watch it as many times as you want in that 24-hour period. I mean, as many times as you can watch it. Twenty-four divided by the length of the movie: that's how many times you can watch it." He was really adamant that I understand that I could theoretically watch Just Married fifteen times and only fifteen times before I'd have to order it again.
Oh, and also? I'm never moving again, or at least not until I can afford to hire some husky underprivileged kids to do it for me.
Joe Garden, co-author of Citizen You, wrote me a very kind e-mail thanking me for plugging the book in this journal a couple weeks ago. (He quoted Journey in the e-mail as well. Hee!) So I'd like to reiterate my insistence that you all pick up this chilling, important, and frequently hilarious book, since I suspect that you haven't yet done so, lazybones.
CURRENT MUSIC: Softcore Jukebox, compiled by Ladytron.
CURRENT MOOD: Cautiously optimistic.
BEST BIT OF MUSIC CRITICISM I'VE RECENTLY READ THAT WASN'T ACTUALLY PART
OF A REVIEW:
Scott made me
a copy of Trout Mask Replica by Captain Beefheart, and e-mailed me
a note before sending it that read, "I wasn't able to fit the last two songs
on the CD, but I think you'll get the point by then." Scott's a great critic
to begin with, but I love when my friends toss off incisive throwaway comments
like that.
TIME: 7:41 PM.
Doot? | |
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