Saturday, April 16
interesting and worthwhile
relatively simple day
Friday, April 1
God, that last diarrhea of posts is embarrassing. I'm leaving them up so I guess I can live with it.
I should get back to posting music. Uh, and taking more photos.
I'm going to try to transition this blog back to reality (and not acknowledge how good this blog is at documenting my manic behavior) and try to describe my relatively simple day yesterday.
I drove my grandma to her nail salon, I overate a bunch of chicken while waiting for her to finish. When I walked back to the store, my uncle was there to tell me she hadn't even started and told me to go home. Oh well, same difference. On the way home, I think I honked at somebody or at least thought about it.
I went to Nerdmelt. Almost bought that big hardcover of Saga but didn't. Oh yeah, I blew a decent chunk of money recently on a bunch of Criterion Blurays, only to realize my PC doesn't have a Bluray drive so I had to buy a player. Only to realize the TV upstairs doesn't accept HDMI (its old) so I had to buy a converter box and wait for that to come, only for the converter box to realize its a peace of shit that crops the picture.
But anyway, I didn't buy Saga. Um, what else. I made somewhat pleasant small talk with the stamp girl at front (pleasant for me anyway, in my stupor, seemingly pleasant to her, on payroll), I was the first to check in so she let me choose what stamp.
"Name?" she asked.
"Park. Park Matthew. Matthew Park-" She explains how she will let me choose the stamp as I feel the blood drain from my face.
"W or (I forgot what the second letter)?" she asked.
As my high (but comfortably high) eyes dart around the inktray, all the little inkblocks remind me of...? Elementary school? The printing press? Oh, here's a good one- I'll choose "W," cause it is an upside down "M" for "Matthew." If only she had a lowercase "D" so it could be a mirrored "P" for "Park. Park Matthew. Matthew Park-"
"W," said I. "Cause "W" is an upside down 'M'-"
Just kidding, I only got to saying "W" and then as the poor girl stamped my hand, while grabbing from the palm for leverage, the sweat. The palm sweat, Matthew, you fool. Oh well, I was already flapping my hands around my pockets like a madman, trying to casually wipe my hands across my hips. I tried, I tried.
Okay, then, I looked around for a long time. Trying to look like I had agency, like I knew what I was looking for. When in reality I was just following colors and lines and aisles, I feel woefully uninformed about comics/graphic novels but I guess I am the only who would care about something like that.
The show was good. There were maybe only like 10 or 15 people that showed up. Half of them grey-haired couples. That was odd. Maria Bamford dropped out, unfortunately. I made a mistake and thought Thomas Middleditch was gonna be there but he wasn't. But the other performers were good, made my face hurt.
Oh, I forgot, okay. So I walked up to the entrance of the theater, a couple interns hanging out by the open door.
"Hey are you letting in now?" My verbatim choice of words. I clear my throat, I think. God, Matt. You player.
The others stare at me and do not respond, because I am obviously only talking to the girl who made contact with my sweaty palm. She turns.
"Yup! Come on in, Matth-" HOLY SHIT SHE REMEMBERED MY NAME, AFTER CHECKING IN LIKE, 15 PEOPLE, HALF OF WHICH WERE GREY-HAIRED COUPLES
"OK-THANK-YOU" Then I walked abruptly and shittily into the theater. I dunno even I even said that, I might have just autistically walked away. Shit, fuck.
Alright, so that was that. Jesus, this is already really long. Oh well, the reason I am writing this is because I woke up very early today, very thirsty. Then accidentally surprised my mom in the kitchen, which, in turn, scared the fuck out of me then made me feel very awake.
Ok. Uh, so after Nerdmelt. I went to Amoeba for the second time. Just discovered their Bluray section, which again, still would've kinda would've been a mistake last time I went because I didn't have a Bluray player at that time. But kinda bummed, since I already bought some titles on DVD.
Um, no real awkward interactions there. Except the two fucking skinny white dudes who were literally LEANING OVER a solid 1/4 of the movies I was trying to look at while they talked about teachers and shit. Made me mad and depressed I didn't have any teachers to talk about or compare or complain about anymore. Once I called my 6th grade teacher "Mom," it was at Swain Elementary. I was only there for about 3 or 4 months, I still went to 6th grade camp though. I met John Yoo there, before we even went to Oxford. I remember farting and laughing. Her name was Mrs. Miner, which is funny cause I had another Mrs. Miner for band a couple years later. She was slightly too old to be my mom, though.
Anyway, after Amoeba. I decided to go see Harold Late Night at UCB. That was good. I was pretty tired at that point but it was worth it. At the end of the show the group announced they would do the "Cinnamon Challenge" as we filed out of the theatre (kinda gimmicky, but the show was technically over). Now, most people stayed seated for this, but maybe 2 or 3 people had to take massive shits or something and left. One of those people sat right next to me, and blocked my view as I was about to record that shit on my phone so I just put it down and decided to watch instead.
It looked very cool, the colored stage lighting combined with the varying reactions in the group. It was funny. I wish I could have captured it. It would've added some flair to this post, maybe.
Okay, thankfully have the day off again. So I am going to take my camera outside. Get a haircut. Go to the pawn shop and try to find a cheap prime lens. That sounds like a lot. I think I am retarded.
I should get back to posting music. Uh, and taking more photos.
I'm going to try to transition this blog back to reality (and not acknowledge how good this blog is at documenting my manic behavior) and try to describe my relatively simple day yesterday.
I drove my grandma to her nail salon, I overate a bunch of chicken while waiting for her to finish. When I walked back to the store, my uncle was there to tell me she hadn't even started and told me to go home. Oh well, same difference. On the way home, I think I honked at somebody or at least thought about it.
I went to Nerdmelt. Almost bought that big hardcover of Saga but didn't. Oh yeah, I blew a decent chunk of money recently on a bunch of Criterion Blurays, only to realize my PC doesn't have a Bluray drive so I had to buy a player. Only to realize the TV upstairs doesn't accept HDMI (its old) so I had to buy a converter box and wait for that to come, only for the converter box to realize its a peace of shit that crops the picture.
But anyway, I didn't buy Saga. Um, what else. I made somewhat pleasant small talk with the stamp girl at front (pleasant for me anyway, in my stupor, seemingly pleasant to her, on payroll), I was the first to check in so she let me choose what stamp.
"Name?" she asked.
"Park. Park Matthew. Matthew Park-" She explains how she will let me choose the stamp as I feel the blood drain from my face.
"W or (I forgot what the second letter)?" she asked.
As my high (but comfortably high) eyes dart around the inktray, all the little inkblocks remind me of...? Elementary school? The printing press? Oh, here's a good one- I'll choose "W," cause it is an upside down "M" for "Matthew." If only she had a lowercase "D" so it could be a mirrored "P" for "Park. Park Matthew. Matthew Park-"
"W," said I. "Cause "W" is an upside down 'M'-"
Just kidding, I only got to saying "W" and then as the poor girl stamped my hand, while grabbing from the palm for leverage, the sweat. The palm sweat, Matthew, you fool. Oh well, I was already flapping my hands around my pockets like a madman, trying to casually wipe my hands across my hips. I tried, I tried.
Okay, then, I looked around for a long time. Trying to look like I had agency, like I knew what I was looking for. When in reality I was just following colors and lines and aisles, I feel woefully uninformed about comics/graphic novels but I guess I am the only who would care about something like that.
The show was good. There were maybe only like 10 or 15 people that showed up. Half of them grey-haired couples. That was odd. Maria Bamford dropped out, unfortunately. I made a mistake and thought Thomas Middleditch was gonna be there but he wasn't. But the other performers were good, made my face hurt.
Oh, I forgot, okay. So I walked up to the entrance of the theater, a couple interns hanging out by the open door.
"Hey are you letting in now?" My verbatim choice of words. I clear my throat, I think. God, Matt. You player.
The others stare at me and do not respond, because I am obviously only talking to the girl who made contact with my sweaty palm. She turns.
"Yup! Come on in, Matth-" HOLY SHIT SHE REMEMBERED MY NAME, AFTER CHECKING IN LIKE, 15 PEOPLE, HALF OF WHICH WERE GREY-HAIRED COUPLES
"OK-THANK-YOU" Then I walked abruptly and shittily into the theater. I dunno even I even said that, I might have just autistically walked away. Shit, fuck.
Alright, so that was that. Jesus, this is already really long. Oh well, the reason I am writing this is because I woke up very early today, very thirsty. Then accidentally surprised my mom in the kitchen, which, in turn, scared the fuck out of me then made me feel very awake.
Ok. Uh, so after Nerdmelt. I went to Amoeba for the second time. Just discovered their Bluray section, which again, still would've kinda would've been a mistake last time I went because I didn't have a Bluray player at that time. But kinda bummed, since I already bought some titles on DVD.
Um, no real awkward interactions there. Except the two fucking skinny white dudes who were literally LEANING OVER a solid 1/4 of the movies I was trying to look at while they talked about teachers and shit. Made me mad and depressed I didn't have any teachers to talk about or compare or complain about anymore. Once I called my 6th grade teacher "Mom," it was at Swain Elementary. I was only there for about 3 or 4 months, I still went to 6th grade camp though. I met John Yoo there, before we even went to Oxford. I remember farting and laughing. Her name was Mrs. Miner, which is funny cause I had another Mrs. Miner for band a couple years later. She was slightly too old to be my mom, though.
Anyway, after Amoeba. I decided to go see Harold Late Night at UCB. That was good. I was pretty tired at that point but it was worth it. At the end of the show the group announced they would do the "Cinnamon Challenge" as we filed out of the theatre (kinda gimmicky, but the show was technically over). Now, most people stayed seated for this, but maybe 2 or 3 people had to take massive shits or something and left. One of those people sat right next to me, and blocked my view as I was about to record that shit on my phone so I just put it down and decided to watch instead.
It looked very cool, the colored stage lighting combined with the varying reactions in the group. It was funny. I wish I could have captured it. It would've added some flair to this post, maybe.
Okay, thankfully have the day off again. So I am going to take my camera outside. Get a haircut. Go to the pawn shop and try to find a cheap prime lens. That sounds like a lot. I think I am retarded.