Signifying nothing

Saturday,August 03,2002

Village Idiot

From: "Richelle"

To: sorry_no_email_available_due_to_spam_harvesters@diespamdie.com

Subject: hey

Date: Saturday, August 03, 2002 9:01 AM

I heard you are working at Village Inn. Tierney swears he saw you busing tables. ha. How've you been? Hope you're doing well. love, richelle

__________________________________________________

From: "Clint Gardner"

To: "Richelle"

Subject: Re: hey

Date: Saturday, August 03, 2002 9:07 AM

Yes Village Inn is great. You get benefits that you only have to pay 50% of and the tips...well let's just say that I get 12% of the tips from the whole restaurant! And do those people know how to tip! They are so nice to me there; I even get a free piece of pie when the Manager, Mr. Bardwagner isn't looking. I was going to try for assistant fry cook, but I just can't part with carting those dishes around and talking to all the nice people who like to tell me how great my life must be.

--Clint

I used to hate getting haircuts. As a kid I would do anything to avoid going in and being pawed over, the metalic stink of the electric razor and brilliantine permeating the air. I don't think I had any sort of sense of style (nor perhaps do I now), but some of those pictures from when I was a kid are evidence that my mom had to have picked the worst barber in the valley. My third grade picture looks like a cross between Spock and Alfalfa. Think about it.

So is my hesitance to get haircuts might go back to that guy or is the result of my propensity to shyness? I'm inclined to think it is the latter. Initially I was going to throw in my Dad's death but now that I think of it, I was haircut avoidant throughout my teens--death just added to the desire to be isolated, "shyness," if you will. Overall, I am surprised at how tolerant my Mom was of my hairstyle, although, like many other issues, I think she might have made some intervention and understand that I was pretty much a classic case of teenage depression.

Friday,August 02,2002

Contents under pressure

Another "Writing Center Romance" (as my friend and WC romance alumni Kendra likes to say) is brewing.Neighbor Jeff is going out with Community Writing Center Sarah. They seem to be hitting it off. They met at the official Writing Center Jamboree (held at the Heber M. Wells quadplex a couple of weeks ago.) Funny thing is that neither of them was technically invited (it was only for student WC folks, but Sarah tagged along with Cathy who works in both places.) Jeff was just here and postponed his plans when all the WC people showed up.

I am getting antsy for the Summer semester to be over. I'm hoping to get to Seattle, but I would settle for Idaho. I spent a Spring Break up around the Sawtooth back in college and would like to see it when there isn't much snow. I thought this week was the last week of classes. Next week is. Pretty disappointing.

Time to clean house, damn it.

Sunday,July 28,2002

Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight

Aside from wasting incredible amounts of time yesterday mastering the intricacies of a sal flip to a manual to a blunt side grind, I did manage to get down to City Weekly's 10th anniversary party at the Gallivan Center. The Dirty Birds were, by far the best with a very even set that wasn't reminiscent of any one band in particular, but definitely caught a groove. Phono was interesting for the fact that it was music that one would not expect for a broad crowd. They weren't exceedingly original with their NiN sound, but did seem dedicated to their music. I'm glad the concert was held outside since they all looked in serious need of some sun. George Barretto was about as far from industrial goth as you can get, and Money Shot funked it up. Nova Paradiso was last and I was a bit disappointed since they seemed to lack the energy they had when they were Thirsty Alley. They closed the night, and my friend Jeff and I headed over to the Zephyr to see a band that one of his friends is in.

The band wasn't a band per se, but a group of djembe drummers. They were tight. Cosm were having a CD release show after the djembe stuff. They were surprisingly good for quasi techno quasi trance quasi pop quasi art house kind of music. I was turned on by Wendy J, the lead singer. She signed the CD I bought and chatted about their work and their upcoming shows. Park City.

"Sonnet 129

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame

Is lust in action; and till action, lust

Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,

Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,

Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight,

Past reason hunted, and no sooner had

Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait

On purpose laid to make the taker mad;

Mad in pursuit and in possession so;

Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;

A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;

Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.

All this the world well knows; yet none knows well

To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. "

ARCHIVES

Copyright © 2002 Clinton R. Gardner
Signifying nothing

Last update: August 8, 2002 8:53 PM