backtrack
2002.02.26 0.58
Let me catch you up with the past 72 hours. I stepped off the plane on Friday night in Houston. I have to walk by the George Bush Sr. bronze statue to get to baggage claim. I like the statue. It makes him seem like a superhero. So, I'm walking out with several other people including a little chump dude on my right hand side. As we pass the statue, I hear the distinct sound of someone hawking up a giant loogie and spitting it out. I'm confused at this point because I can't believe what I think just happened. I ask the short guy, ''Did you just spit?'' and he's all, ''Hey, man, it's George Bush,'' and I'm all, ''Well, either way, that's a f***ing rude a**hole thing to do, don't you think?'' It was at this point that I started to flex my excuse for upper musculature and was ready to pound his head into the wall. The guy just shrugged and looked like he was trying to size me up. Dude, I was SO pissed. The guy didn't turn to go into the main area toward baggage claim and instead headed toward other gates. After he left I was totally seething. Yes, you can have your opinion of someone and you are completely entitled to it. But spitting on a statue in public is so low grade (and not to mention unsanitary). You won't find me ever spitting on a Bill Clinton or Jimmy Carter statue no matter how much I may disagree with their policies. Man, how stupid are people getting these days?
Not wanting to maintain the negative energy and karma that the George Bush Spitter had enflamed, I called my friend Fonguro (AKA Daniel) hoping he'd have something fun planned that I could tag my ass along to. When he answered his phone I gave him the obligatory ''WHAAAATTTSSSS UPPPPPPP'' rejoinder. He was all, ''Aw, man, shut up! Hold on!'' and then clicked over to the other line. Unbeknownst to me, another friend of ours had called only seconds earlier and done the exact same thing. Daniel thought my calling was a set up. It's nice how popular culture can bring us all together by changing the way we greet one another. Now, if popular culture could just get me a hot date, I'd be all set.
We ate at a place off 59 called Lupe Tortillas that serves these lime marinated fajitas which were fantastic. Food is good food, as I say. We finished off the evening by playing foosball at two different entertainment complexes (the names of each I can't recall). I turned in at a fairly decent hour after I took my dog for a walk and brought him inside. One thing I have learned from my friends was that I wasn't spending enough time with my dog. I usually lay down a blanket on the other side of the bed and Chew Chew eventually calms down conking out over there. I've only been woken up twice by the hound dog smelling at my face. I think that since I haven't been around much for the past nine months that he can't believe I'm letting him sleep inside. He still smells pretty good although I suspect the winter weather has kept him fresh from his last bath. My ex-roommate would still tell you that he stinks but then again she's also the same person who couldn't smell the acrid pee and poop of her kitty litter box. Thank god she was convinced to eventually buy the crystal litter. Sheesh, I can't believe I actually talked her into something that one time. We are not on good terms now due to a conflict over my doing a favor and the timing of that favor. I'll bring that up another time when I'm more open minded.
The rest of the weekend was fairly uneventful. I sat myself down and watched the first six episodes of ''Sex and the City'' as I did my bills and projected how to erase my debt. I also took up some advice from a friend and opened up a savings account. I have a 401K with a decent amount of fundage but I have no real account labeled as savings. I know it is a psychological thing, labeling an account separately as savings, but I figure I might as well save up for that loft apartment in New York. The list of things needing to be done still includes finishing the kitchen, assessing the exterior of the house, bringing the DeLorean and Batmobile back online, and doing my laundry. I swear, if the maid would do my laundry, the world would be a better place.
On Monday I ate at Mission Burrito with my app dev coworkers in Houston and got my BlackBerry Wireless Device™ working again. I haven't had a working PIN since, like, last August. The Company doesn't want to pay for the wireless web service on my SprintPCS™ mobile phone, so I had to step up to the plate and get that done. I also gathered together the materials to create The Mark Wahlberg Youth Foundation web site which I am eagerly going to finish on Tuesday night in lieu of going to New York and watching movies and drinking coffee. I'll have to do that on Wednesday, instead, sniff sniff. This will be just in time as the mood here has been vapid as of late. It's not like people are spitting on our statue somewhere.
One of us won't last the night, between you and me it's no surprise There's two of us, both can't be right Neither will move till it's over I'm the center of attention and the wall's inside my head And no one will ever know it if I keep my mouth shut tight My own little world is what I deserve Cause I am the only child there is I'm king of it all, the belle of the ball I promise I've always been like this Forever the first, my bubble can't burst It's almost like only I exist Where everything's fine, if I can keep my mouth shut tight... tight... tight All by myself, I'm so much better on my own And way out there, it is the same old place that it always has been I'm the center of attention and the wall's inside my head And no one will ever know it if I keep my mouth shut tight... tight... tightGuster, 1999, ''Center of Attention'' from ''Lost and Gone Forever''
