(-) ions2004-03-03 10:35:12 ET

Negative people suck ass.
I'm now very pissed off because of a negative person I have to work with. I want to kill.
At the same time, he's a really nice guy. Just friggin' bitter. And he has developed, over the years, this attitude that "if my life sucks, well I'm gonna try to bring you down with me."

Case in point...

Awhile back, I made the comment that I wanted a really nice printer. But such things cost lotsa money (the one I have my eye on is $600). I also want to propose to theGirl. It's one or the other (I don't have to tell you which I plan to go with, do I?). So the other day he says "Vistek is selling the printer you want for $500". I accidentally let it slip: "It's either that or the ring".

He just shook his head. Later, as I was showing the prop-stylist which ring I was considering (on the net) he comes up behind us and says "I'd go with the printer".

Not a positive vibe in his body. He wasn't joking. He was serious. He has said such things as "She's going into social work? Oh they make no money. You gotta marry a girl with money" or "How are you going to support her?". I've told him to shut the fuck up.
He couldn't even say "Congratulations" or "That's great, Sean, I hope things work out for you."
Negative bastard. He's levelled his cynicism in my direction and I'm gonna blow up at him the next comment he makes.

I'm sorry. I really don't mean to vent here.

Spirits in a material world2004-03-01 03:56:41 ET

I haven't listened to it in a few weeks, but The Police's "Spirits in a Material World" lyrics keep coming into my mind.

Now they're singin' about politics and how our bodies and this planet are substantial, but we're actually spirits controlling everything.

My take on the title alone, though, is that we are spirits living in a materialistic world.

It's coming up to tax time and all I can really think about is the fact that none of this shit actually matters. The music I listen to, the photos I take, the pavement I sometimes have to pound. They're all just things to help us pass through this time we call life.

Now I'm not saying I don't value the art others make, and that it isn't a worthwhile endeavour, or the concrete the city puts down for us to tread isn't something to be greatful for, I just don't think any of it impacts me the same way I thought it did. Cause when you're dead, well shit, taxes? they mean fuck all, just like U2 or NIN or my photography.

I'm not saying I don't care if I live or die. I wanna live, cause theGirl keeps it interesting, and there's a bunch of things I want to do that I'm not sure I'll get to experience in the next life. Like who knows if they've got paintball in heaven? Or if there is a heaven... yada yada yada...

But I'm not afraid of death like I might have been. I've had a few close calls, stuff that's had my heart racing, but they haven't changed me. Just made me realise that when it happens, there's not a goddamned thing you can do to stop it. So why worry.

I'm just going to keep doing what I'm doing, care for theGirl when she needs it, and hit the play button one more time.

Who wants a pint? Paddy's day is comin' up.

Good weekend2004-02-29 04:55:07 ET

Friday night was a bit rocky. Joyce fish disagreed with me. Walked in on a drug deal and they almost thought I was a narc. Yeah, right.
Picked up a live Weller and a 2Pac. When you're that controversial, then a fair listen is in order.
Back to theGirl's pad. She'd been telling me not to get Outkast (hard to resist that tune) cause she wanted it first. Then theGirl goes and gets it for me for our 1 year. Which is next week. So why is she giving me these gifts early? She's like me, can't wait to see the face.
Saturday. Oh. What. A. Really. Fuckin'. A. Day.
Sunny, didn't need a coat. Walked around downtown, fish finally settled earlier, so had some pizza. Went to Metropolis. Spun a few discs. Longed for a turntable. Walked some more. theGirl bought new boots. Had Earl Grey somewhere in there. Went back to her place, watched Sandler singin' 80's, then went down to see Joyce's "The Dead" (not the pub, the actual playwright). Had a good laugh, but the ending brought a few tears to my eyes. Had a few at sweatty betty's. Home for a rest.

It's Sinday (no, not a typo), and supposedly as nice as yesterday. So I should go get dressed and shake off the headache.
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