Marc
I know we've only known each other for 4 weeks, 3 days, but to me it seems like 9 weeks and 5 days. -- Steve Martin in The Jerk
Mobile, Alabama
One. And Zach sayeth, "I'm officially done BLARGing forever. Goodbye." And Marc sayeth, "What?" And Scoot sayeth (seriously, with no hint of sarcasm), "Duuude. Bummer." Then Zach sayeth, "I lied." And Marc sigheth a breath of relief. Why would Zach play such a cruel joke?
Two. Our friend Grant wrote, along with the help of his band Steven, one of the most beautiful songs I think I've ever heard. And that's no bull. Steven has always had their good nights and their kinda-good nights, but this song, for the type of music that they play -- Ida-ish acoustic songs with bass and drums -- is spot on for where they should be heading. Not to mention that it can be found on his reception-only released mix cd, and it is apparently about his wife. Good tempo, great changes from mood to mood, and the lyrics are perfect. I've had it in my head all day, but I had not had the chance to listen to it until the drive back to the hotel tonight. I've since listened to it nine times ... nine times. Wish I knew what it was called. Chris? You there?
Three. This seems to be the week where nothing is going right. My bags and I were seperated for a few days. They took a trip to Mobile via Atlanta via Chicago. I took the much less interesting Chicago to Nashville flight, coupled with the Nashville to Mobile drive. My bags had it better than I did. I think United Airlines has to buy me some new boxers as a result of the whole affair, to which I am totally ammendable. The suck part was that I didn't have any tools for work, which has seriously hampered the way I do my job, which should be obvious. I've been to the same post office going on three days straight come tomorrow. Feels like I actually work there. Sad part is that I would never want to work there.
Four. I finally also bought a new cell phone because of the baggage mishap. For those of you that know me, you'll be happy. No more annoying electronic voice screaming, "Incoming Call!" every time someone calls me. In fact, I've already checked, and I can change the ring on this one anytime I want to. Right now it's on a calm little "beep-ba-da-da, beep-ba-da-da (pause) (repeat)". I'll show you this weekend. Maybe I'll make you stand next to me while I force you to call my phone just so you can hear it. I'll probably also be drunk, and I'll probably also be in a tuxedo, and I'll probably also not have my new cell phone on me cause I'll probably leave it at the hotel during Scoot and Lib's wedding. Dudes, we're all going to look awes this weekend. Maybe we can score with some chicks. See you then.
Up Next: The Grant and Leah Wedding Mix by Grant and Leah; The Chomsky Reader by Noam Chomsky; and, folding dirty clothes so there's more room in the suitcase.
Tomorrow: Work in Mobile AL. 264 miles to work in Birmingham AL. 180 miles to sleep in Nashville TN.
I know we've only known each other for 4 weeks, 3 days, but to me it seems like 9 weeks and 5 days. -- Steve Martin in The Jerk
Mobile, Alabama
One. And Zach sayeth, "I'm officially done BLARGing forever. Goodbye." And Marc sayeth, "What?" And Scoot sayeth (seriously, with no hint of sarcasm), "Duuude. Bummer." Then Zach sayeth, "I lied." And Marc sigheth a breath of relief. Why would Zach play such a cruel joke?
Two. Our friend Grant wrote, along with the help of his band Steven, one of the most beautiful songs I think I've ever heard. And that's no bull. Steven has always had their good nights and their kinda-good nights, but this song, for the type of music that they play -- Ida-ish acoustic songs with bass and drums -- is spot on for where they should be heading. Not to mention that it can be found on his reception-only released mix cd, and it is apparently about his wife. Good tempo, great changes from mood to mood, and the lyrics are perfect. I've had it in my head all day, but I had not had the chance to listen to it until the drive back to the hotel tonight. I've since listened to it nine times ... nine times. Wish I knew what it was called. Chris? You there?
Three. This seems to be the week where nothing is going right. My bags and I were seperated for a few days. They took a trip to Mobile via Atlanta via Chicago. I took the much less interesting Chicago to Nashville flight, coupled with the Nashville to Mobile drive. My bags had it better than I did. I think United Airlines has to buy me some new boxers as a result of the whole affair, to which I am totally ammendable. The suck part was that I didn't have any tools for work, which has seriously hampered the way I do my job, which should be obvious. I've been to the same post office going on three days straight come tomorrow. Feels like I actually work there. Sad part is that I would never want to work there.
Four. I finally also bought a new cell phone because of the baggage mishap. For those of you that know me, you'll be happy. No more annoying electronic voice screaming, "Incoming Call!" every time someone calls me. In fact, I've already checked, and I can change the ring on this one anytime I want to. Right now it's on a calm little "beep-ba-da-da, beep-ba-da-da (pause) (repeat)". I'll show you this weekend. Maybe I'll make you stand next to me while I force you to call my phone just so you can hear it. I'll probably also be drunk, and I'll probably also be in a tuxedo, and I'll probably also not have my new cell phone on me cause I'll probably leave it at the hotel during Scoot and Lib's wedding. Dudes, we're all going to look awes this weekend. Maybe we can score with some chicks. See you then.
Up Next: The Grant and Leah Wedding Mix by Grant and Leah; The Chomsky Reader by Noam Chomsky; and, folding dirty clothes so there's more room in the suitcase.
Tomorrow: Work in Mobile AL. 264 miles to work in Birmingham AL. 180 miles to sleep in Nashville TN.
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