I Wanna Feel You From the Inside

Tuesday: Boyfriend is willing to put up with my whims, which is more than I can say for myself.

Wednesday: Boyfriend contributes to charity.

Thursday: Boyfriend can appreciate a roadtrip to nowhere because he enjoys the process of travelling as much as arriving at a destination.




That being said, I'm listening to old NIN albums, and I feel like I've instantly become 16. I hadn't heard a whole NIN album until I was 18, but my 16 year old self would be the part of me that would most closely identify with this music. I wish the latest NIN release had been good.

Feeling Calm

I spent the weekend with Boyfriend, and it was probably the first weekend together when the weather was warm. Naturally, Boyfriend hurt himself, and could only walk 10 feet at a time.

While we were sitting on the bench in front of his apartment building, he mentioned something about being like the elderly couple that had just walked into the building. I'm not exactly sure how many times I've told Boyfriend that talk of such a future is beyond scary to me.

Does anyone really know how well a hipster will age?

This sounds retarded for the length of time that we've been together, but this weekend was the first time I let him hold my hand while we walked about. It was mostly sympathy for his pain, and would otherwise have maintained my "you cannot touch me without explicit permission and closed blinds" attitude. He really did look pathetic.

All that being said, it's time to hand out compliments.

Friday: Boyfriend is guarded with his words and emotions toward me- and that, dear reader[s] is a relief.
Saturday: Boyfriend has big feet. *wink*
Sunday: Boyfriend enjoys a lazy Sunday laying in bed reading the paper.
Monday: Boyfriend is a devoted partner who is not afraid to coax me out of my shell.



P.S. I really hate his cat. In fact, I hate all cats. I hate every last mongrel.

Still Up

It's raining with thunder and the works.



I love this weather, and I only wish that there was someone lying in my bed with me.




Thursday morning compliment: Boyfriend is a little skinny and sharp, but he's great for cuddling.

Bedtime

Today was a stressful day, and I'm happy to see that it's over.


All of this should be prefaced with the fact that I have decided -for sure- that I will move in with Boyfriend by June 31st. That's when my lease ends...And I've made my decision.

That being said, I'm going to need a car. My pedestrian lifestyle cannot be supported in his town, and he's not really interested in carting my ass around. Naturally, I've been packratting every last dime, because while Boyfriend has the means and the desire to buy a second car (a new one for him, leaving me with his old one) I can't in good conscience pull off that kind of gold-digging activity. Plus, if there is ever a time that we need to divide our possessions...I will be left stranded.

So, I've come to more closely notice when the cash flow is a little...Choked.


Today, I was stuck with a lunch shift at Workplace, and I've noticed that with lunch shifts, the money is always bad. There are only two people who eat out at fairly upscale dining facilities on a Wednesday: ladies who lunch and businessmen.

Both are bad tippers: women are notoriously bad, and ladies who lunch are worse...Maybe because they spent all of their money on Jimmy Choos...Or maybe because they don't understand the concept of tipping, and having lived a life of leisure, they don't understand how much it hurts me when they don't. They also like to sit around, which keeps me from turning the table over to someone who will tip. Business men are a gamble. Some have the kind of money and time that allow them to sit about for long periods of time...Others want to get in, eat, and get out. Some are good tippers, but most are bad. Today was a bad tip day, and I felt it.


Boyfriend also has had a string of tough days, most recently experiencing a hold-up in the launching of his record label: two of his flagship artists need money up front. One artist, now to be called Diego, is rather reasonable, and is only asking for the amount of money necessary to keep him in a studio for three months. Boyfriend has prepared to front that money on the condition that he see how the money is spent, and that it definitely goes to the studio or costs associated with the album. The other artist, now to be known as Hans, wants and OBSCENE amount of money...Enough, we calculated, to keep him in the studio for three months, and pay his living expenses for a year, and buy a luxury vehicle. He considers this album to be a commissioned piece of art.

He very much considers himself to be the modern day da Vinci.

No.

Just because you run around creating art for money while others have the sneaking, yet unconfirmed suspicion that you are gay, that doesn't mean you are a modern day master. But really, no one cares about his alleged love of cock, they're far more concerned about his alleged love of crack. That's totally unconfirmed, and I have no proof, I'm just saying there are concerns that have been floating around the Chicago art scene.

All of that being said, Boyfriend is willing to front 3 months of studio time and 3 months of rent and living expenses. He is not, however, willing to throw money at a man who will not confirm how he spends the money and will not do a thing until he receives all of the money up front.

I advise that he put money on Diego, and take the money he would have put on Hans, and use that to start pressing his own albums to be re-released on the label. Enter another problem: while Boyfriend has been close friends with the owner of the label that released his previous albums, the owner, Max, cannot allow Boyfriend to re-release his own work. It turns out that when he sold the album rights to Max, Max in turn sold the album rights to a third party (in the name of making more money for all involved) and that third party refuses to release the rights to those albums.

Gah.

So, instead, I'm trying to convince him to use that money to pick up smaller, less demanding artists that need a label (or a US label) and have potential.


He's mulling, but really was hoping the Hans will check his demands and adjust to a more reasonable amount- especially because Boyfriend would allow him to keep the rights to the songs.


All of that boils down to a halt in the label process, and the launch has been postponed indefinitely, not that it's a problem. With the move and work and other stressful issues, Boyfriend has enough on his plate, and I think that I would have ended up doing a retarded amount of label repping bitch work this summer had the launch occurred the first week of June, as planned.


On that note: my birthday is the first week of June, and I was not terribly thrilled with the concept of spending my birthday week calming his nerves while he dealt with the launch.



Anyway, all that being said, it's time for a compliment for Boyfriend: He has the kind of ambition that I really admire. He doesn't want to be the most successful, he wants to do what pleases him and be as happy as possible.

Compliments

Monday: Boyfriend is not afraid to stand up for himself.

Tuesday: Boyfriend does not change himself in the face of opposition or criticism.



































That being said, I think I realized what it is about Boyfriend's anger that really disturbs me: it reminds me of the way my father was when I was growing up and the way my mother became after his anger subsided. The thought of either of them getting to the end of their very short rope was terrifying, and I always had zero desire to communicate much to either of them. I'm kind of afraid to open up to Boyfriend too much because he reacts *just* like them: and I definitely see that when I want to leave him, it directly correlates with when I see their qualities in him.

Happy Easter

Ahh...The end of a long day, or, if you're more technical about midnight, it's the beginning of another long day.

I generally like Workplace. I have reasonable managers, understanding and decent coworkers, and *surprise* mostly educated customers. If I play my cards right on a Saturday, I can walk away with $200 sitting in my pocket- and while that in now way compares to the $1000 that my stripper friend can expect...It's not too shabby and covers all of my favorite addictions- that being electricity and dinner.

But, there is one thing I have to say about Workplace, or really, any restaurant anywhere- they stay open for major holidays. I understand that there is a lot of money to be made. Today, I pulled off a $300 day- a double, mind you, but $300 nonetheless.

The problem? I packed in double the number of customers that I would normally see during both shifts. Let's run the numbers: on a decent Saturday, I can fully expect to see $200 *after* tipping out to the bartenders, the busboys, my assistant, the expediter, and for no reason at all, the hostess. That is 1 shift which is normally 5 hours, where I typically see 30 customers. I can roughly expect to see $6.50/customer in tips in a 5 hour shift.

During the dinner shift, I pulled off my average $200, but it should be noted, that I served 62 people: making my average about $3.50/customer in a 5 hour shift.

Now lunch numbers: during an average lunch shift, I can walk out with about $80, whereas today I walked out with $100 from that shift. In an average lunch, I work about 20 customers, making my average about $4/customer.

Today? I worked 50 customers and made $100, putting my average at $2/customer.



What's the difference? Christians out to lunch. I *seriously* had three tables not leave a tip, but rather put down a fucking leaflet for their motherfucking faux Jesus lover church and a smiley face on the tip line.

I understand what it's like to be poor and not have a lot of money. I understand what it's like to see the dollars trickling away to other people, but for the love of your precious savior, go to a fast food joint if you don't plan on tipping properly.
Yes, it's Easter weekend, and yes, you want to celebrate. But here's the thing: when you spend your entire two hour dining experience sneering at me and making me run around dodging your stupid brats only to leave me no money but the assurance that I was a great server...You make it entirely obvious that you are either a) completely ignorant or b) completely hypocritical. You know more about the specs on the latest line of luxury cars than you know about your savior. Fuck off.

JESUS DOES NOT PAY MY BILLS.


I understand that saving my immortal soul is more important than $20 in the long run, but I'm pretty sure that your happy ass is no closer to enlightenment than my stripper friend, you self-righteous hag.

I grew up loving Jesus...Or at least trying reallyfuckinghard. I know. You want me to find him. When I do, there will be rainbows and butterflies...Minus all the queer imagery because God hates fags.

Here's a hint: you bible-thumpers make him look bad, and I'm pretty sure that any righteous God would lump you in with the murderers for smearing his name. Fuck you.


This isn't even about money- it's about how much I loathe every motherfucking person who has ever said that I just need to come back to Jesus. I tried. It didn't work. We're not even on speaking terms anymore.




All that being said, it's time for the Easter compliment: Boyfriend is surprisingly familiar with many religious and philosophical texts, and is quite adept at arguing the idea of morality in the changing world.

Compliments Early in the Morning

Friday: Boyfriend truly does enjoy fine dining, and his refined manners never cease to impress me.

Saturday: Boyfriend has *gorgeous* blue eyes.

Recent Gallup Numbers

60% Disapprove of how President Bush is handling his job
37% Approve


Apparently, 3% are apathetic.


Seriously, you 37%, come ON. Maybe I'm missing something.

It's a beautiful day

Despite the fact that Boyfriend owns and loves a complete hell demon of a cat, he is not a cat person- that is, he doesn't own sweatshirts with cats on them or creepy cat pictures on the wall and all that goes along with being a cat person. He understands the limits and realities of cats and animals altogether.



P.S. I'm absolutely positive that Workplace has so many windows for the pure purpose of slowing productivity. I found myself just kind of staring out to the park and walking past the windows to feel the breeze. Down with windows!

chatting with friends.

I just finished a hilarious conversation with a dear friend, and because a lot of it contains slander of an unnamed local artist, I will only quote some parts.

Set up: Friend M is a music-scene busy body, and somehow gets her body around. She managed to spend part of the weekend in the fabulous company of Carlos D. (a la Interpol), Nick Zinner (a la The Yeah Yeah Yeahs), Ryan Gentles (owner of Wiz Kid Management), and most importantly Wolf Parade. It just so happens that Local Glam Band has managed to offend Friend M by not paying enough attention to her during the after party from their previous show, so she neglects to tell them where she is partying- but rather, she just lets them know with whom she holds court. This launched into a conversation of just how sold out the Wolf Parade US tour is.

[02:43] Me: I would like to know how to get some fucking tickets. I dragged my feet because I figured that they were still an obscure Canadian band...and that I could get tickets fairly easily. Especially because Boyfriend loves the band- and he loves the most obscure stuff available.
[02:43] Friend M: but I'm sure you could walk the line
[02:43] Me: Guess what? Pitchfork has sucked the Wolf Parade cock, and everyone now loves this band. And I'm not going to be a streetwalker for the latest fad that Boyfriend likes.
[02:43] Friend M: they heart wolf parade
[02:44] Friend M: like can't get enough
[02:44] Me: maybe Wolf Parade drinks a lot of pineapple juice.


I suppose that one's only funny if you've read enough of those advice magazines that give tips on how to make certain unpleasant things a little more...tolerable.

__________________________________________
Set Up: Friend M and I are both involved in liberal politics, so we often commiserate. We were discussing the President's and Vice President's most recent approval ratings (38% and 22%, respectively) and lamenting about how unpopular the movement to censure is.

[02:52] Friend M: I've lost faith man
[02:52] Friend M: awful bloggers have book deals
[02:52] Friend M: celebs are djing
[02:52] Friend M: the president is fucking us
[02:52] Friend M: gas prices are high, health insurance blows
[02:53] Friend M: gwyneth named her kid moses
[02:53] Friend M: it's the fucking apocalypse


speaking of Gwyneth Paltrow and her newest brat...

[02:54] Me: I mean, Christ...how self-important do you have to be to name your kid Moses?
02:54] Friend M: after the Coldplay song
[02:54] Friend M: I wanted to punch myself in the face
[02:55] Me: I mean, you have to be a complete ass to name your kid "Apple" and assume you can get away with that shit...but to name your kid "Moses?"
[02:57] Me: There should be a way to vote these people out of the gene pool. We should be able to rise up and say "Yes, we get it! You're thin, beautiful and rich! You win life! But for the love of God, don't make any irritating little pricks to follow in your footsteps. Ff you want kids, you can adopt like a thousand of those little African kids for $30/mo, each"





Today's compliment: Boyfriend keeps up with current music industry personalities without bothering to know about the gossip- like what Christ Martin let his wife name his son. Which is Moses. Which makes me want to kill myself.

Happy Shoes

Today was a fairly decent day- I didn't get to talk to Boyfriend, which bothered me a little bit. I suppose that's a good sign.

I traded in my walking shoes for car keys- it's been a little over a year since I last drove a car. I've become a happy pedestrian- and there's no better way to demonstrate that by my fear of being behind the wheel.


Happy shoes.


Anyway, today's compliment: Boyfriend makes me miss him so much when he's not around.

I spent a great weekend with Boyfriend

Wanna know a secret? If I hear "If You Talk Too Much" x People in Planes too much, MY head will explode. Seriously, that is one of the most poorly written songs of the year.


That being said...

Saturday: Boyfriend has varied interests: from painting to music to photography to politics.

Sunday: Boyfriend has excellent hands.

Monday: Boyfriend has become a great kisser. :o)

Mr. Darcy is my favorite fiction character.

Thursday: Boyfriend has excellent taste in art, and he shares my affection for El Greco.

Friday: Boyfriend always smells like one of my favorite scents: laundry detergent.

Those compliments distributed, I must say that Male Roommate has shown a streak of thoughtfulness. I mentioned earlier that my favorite piece of fiction, hands down, is "Pride and Prejudice" x Jane Austen...so much so that none of the pages are stuck to the binding :o( Male Roommate rented the movie for me. So sweet.


P.S. Why is there no option to underline text? I had to put the title of a book in quotes. How ridiculous!

Quasimodo what?

Boyfriend truly appreciates hip hop/rap music. I'm not saying that he listens to stupid top 40 singles, I mean that he enjoys the roots of hip hop/rap and current underground artists based on their artistic appeal. Despite the fact that he is an avant garde artist, he has an open mind and a receptive ear to new and different sounds.

Remember all four of us in your tiny car?

I am not one to cheat. I never will be. I've had the distinct "pleasure" of being on the other side of the situation, and I don't think I could ever subject my partner to that kind of heartbreak.


That being said, I've been mentally stewing over someone who is not Boyfriend for...maybe 3 months. Not long in the scheme of things, too long for me.


This man, now to be marked M28 (after an obscure inside joke), is extremely similar to Boyfriend- right down to long hair, progressive politics, fiscal sensibilities, extensive music history, class and nerdiness.


This makes him the perfect object of my affection. Moody, brilliant, prone to depressing political musings over expensive beer- if I could have been sure that he could do differential equations with me, I might have gone home with M28.

Alas, M28 is in New Orleans, and I am not, anymore...for now. So I can only read and listen about his adventures and romanticize him. The problem is that I understand that I have romanticized him. His moaning and bitching really gets on my nerves, and it often comes off as though he's trying to impress people- and I don't like that quality in a man.



I could go on and on, but let's suffice to say that for every word that comes out of his mouth, I simultaneously wish that I had taken him seriously when we casually saw each other (in a few very very uncomfortable double un-dates with his friend, M27, and my druggie friend, Special K), and I am quite glad that I avoided the git. Mostly I didn't because I had other priorities, namely Ex-Boyfriend J. Either way, it wouldn't have worked out with either with 1000 miles of separation.


I'm not exactly sure what's going on with me, but I think I might just be going crazy. Either way, I do have to shake this very strange attraction to a man I haven't seen in a year and a half.



...and I've realized that I like the ugly ones best.

Sacrilegious

So, The Roommates and I went to a bookstore today so Female Roommate could look at some more stupid cat books. [Holy fuck! Isn't one bookshelf full of cat books enough? I guess not.]

Being that I am drawing from the same genetics as Grandmother L and Father, I naturally wander off in my own direction. I found the Postsecret book. !!! I picked it up, and did the literary equivalent of music piracy: I grabbed the book and snuck into the back corner and read it, and then casually returned it to its original spot.

I've contemplated sending in a few secrets, having created a postcard (only to discard it) and written down a few of the secrets I might want to send.

So, in honor of the book, I'll post two secrets here:

1. When people say that Jesus was a "perfect man," I wonder if he was the perfect lover. And, if he was a perfect lover- what would that experience be like?

2. I am so cheap that I won't buy the Postsecret book, but I will read it without making a trip to a library or stealing it.


That last part reminded me of a thing that I meant to compliment Boyfriend on: his management of money. Boyfriend is fastidious with a wallet. He has no debt, nor does he live lavishly. He is neither too liberal nor too conservative with his funds.

like couch colors.

Today's compliment: Boyfriend has a great mind for many complex issues and deep thought.

Catch-Up

It appears as though I've gotten behind with the compliments. I blame it on getting sick, but in reality, I can saunter up to a computer just as well when I'm sick as when I am healthy.


Mostly, it's just that I got this new library card...and I picked up a new book. "Confessions" x Augustine.

I've given myself the task of reading through the entire St. John's College reading list. No, I'm not going in order. Yes, I am reading "Pride and Prejudice" next because I like Jane Austen. Anyway: here is the list.


That being said, I have to give out the three compliments that I have missed.

Friday: Boyfriend, while still uncomfortable with himself sexually, has a manner about him that is very attractive when lying quietly in my bed.

Saturday: Boyfriend respects my space and privacy and does not cross the lines with either when he is told where the lines are.

Sunday: Boyfriend has an impeccable memory when it comes to what my preferences are.