February 11, 2010:
My Thursday's dance card was filled.
I had to run down to Lakewood to pick up a check so that I could stop being poor for a day. I was coming out of the building after receiving my check, and was going to wander around Best Buy for a bit, when I noticed that an old man's station wagon had broke down in the middle of the street. Traffic wasn't heavy, so I hustled over to help him push the car. And by "help" him, I mean that I pushed and he steered.
It was a bitch of an ordeal.
The guy's station wagon was one of those classics made out of steel and American can-do spirit. But mostly steel. And he had just loaded the trunk with fertilizer from Home Depot. The car was not moving without a fight. And I was just wearing sandals. The first day out of 2010 that I decide to wear sandals, and I have to push a car that apparently was made out of everything heavy that the factory had at hand.
So as I cuss under my breath, which eventually stops after I run out of breath, but the car is not budging. I make a joke to the old fellow:
"Oh man, is the parking brake on?" I joke.
"Ha ha ha," he laughs... and then goes quiet, "Oops, it is."
Son of a-!
The pushing of the metal torture box goes a little easier (and by easier, it actually moves) after he take the parking brake off. I recite a mantra in my head that is roughly about not killing people cuz its illegal. After we move his car out of street, the old man thanks me for my kindness and offers me five dollars. I say no thanks and ask him if he needs anymore help. He says Triple-A will be on their way in no time. I take off for the bank to deposit the check, and while there I call up Lainey to see if she'd like to grab lunch before I have to go to work. She's down and says to meet up at the Bella Terra area.
On my way to meeting up with her, I realize that I probably should have went home first to clean up after moving the station wagon. I decide that I will just stay upwind from her and hope she doesn't notice the mix of sweat, station wagon, fertilizer, and sandals. Anyways, I got her a kitten! She owes me enough to pretend I don't stank.
We met up at PetSmart and then checked out Michael's. Michael's is an interesting place in that's its full of pieces of soon-to-be finished arts and crafts projects. I always like to look around and compare it to a autoshop. Just replace radiators with cotton stuffing, fenders with washable finger paint, and rims with an assortment of colored beads. There's the lace that will totally finish up my kickass macaroni picture frame. Oh these googly eyes will punch up my homemade teddy bear! And I am so totally going to supe up my tote bag with iron-on fabric transfers!
I had been cool with anything to eat for lunch, so when Lainey said Johnny Rocket's, and I said hell yes. We headed over, and I was surprised to find the Bella Terra so busy. I thought it being a Thursday would mean less people getting in my way and stealing all the convenient parking spaces. Darn it. But we got to Johnny Rocket's none the less, and burgers were eaten. (And Lainey had the non-meated variety. Duh).
Topics of Conversation @ Johnny Rocket's: Bruce Campbell tattoos, El Paso, ten phone calls that could have waited, European sandwiches, how to not sound cool when scolding a cat, Easter egg hunts, soap, how Perrier might be French toilet water, music and how good it is, bake sales, something about Jerry sailors (I'm not sure), etc.
After lunch, I dropped Lainey off at her car and I headed home to clean up and get ready for work. As I was on the road to work, I realized that my iPod didn't have much power left, which made me very sad. Work at Norwalk mostly consisted of organizing old tapes from now all the way back to the 80's. Many tapes were mysteriously labeled, with absolutely no other information, and sometimes even more baffling information attached. Some of my favorites were:
1. Who Moved My Cheese?
2. Teddie V. "You Can Do It!"
3. the final day
4. Tommy Lu (raw footage)
5. Moving Wall
Yeah, these 5 specifically made my day at Norwalk.
After work I headed out to have dinner with my friends Justin, Deron, and Deron's girlfriend Ashleigh (I think I spelled that right). We went to a place called Luigi's out near Orange. It was Italian food (which is some of my favorite food on the planet Earth), decently priced, and tasted really good. I now have a place to drag others to for some Italian food. BEWARE.
Topics of Conversation @ Luigi's: Who Moved My Cheese?, birthdays, D&D dating, how people that are warm and amazing still make your skin crawl, girls that are addicted to dating a**holes, revenge for stolen photo equipment, canollis, the magic of karaoke duets, comedians, etc.
After Luigi's I visited the place Deron was staying at. It was a beautiful home that he sharing with a married couple that were old friends of his. I then headed home, secure that my day had been very full.
...but it wasn't done. I needed a movie to finish it up.
I stopped at the Block and watched Youth In Revolt. It had been a movie that I wanted to check out for a while, and it probably didn't have much time left in theaters. Apparently Michael Cera plays an awkward teen named Nick who is in love with a girl... Wait? Wasn't that Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist? Almost, but stick around for a bit.
In this movie, Cera is playing a character named Nick Twisp that decides that he needs to become a bad guy to get with the girl he loves. Not because she only likes bad boys, but because the situation he's thrown in calls for some behaviour that is alien to him. So to help himself along, Nick devises an alternate "persona" named Francois Dillinger, who is just the kind of bastard he needs to be to achieve his goals. In a way, this movie is like Fight Club and Superbad mixed together.
The movie is pretty good. But it gets a little pretentious at times, and needs just two more scenes with Francois Dillinger to even it out a little more. I liked the movie, and would suggest it to anybody that doesn't hate Michael Cera (is there anyone left? I hope so) and for people who like a really quirky take on teen sex/romance movies.
The best part is I started to think about all the great personas/identities that have been designed to help people be, or get, what they want:
Bruce Wayne/Batman (but who's the alter ego?)
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
And like any freakin' dork such as myself, I have (already had, how sad) devised an alter ego. Three, in fact, god help me:
Freddie Stans - Freddie is the guy that can perform in front of anybody. He can put on a show just by being fearless and witty. He's the showman in my head.
Ethan Shwartz - Evil Nate. One day we will have a throwdown. He's everything I'm not, and all his good points are mired in awful deeds. He's funny as hell, but only when insulting others. He would be a charismatic despot.
Wolfgang "Wolf" Jordan - Bad ass mother- SHUT YER MOUTH! I'm only talking about Wolfgang! Yeah, he's the badass I wish I was. I mean, his name is ridiculous. Its a combination of a german name I always thought was cool, and Michael Jordan. Yeah.
I think I've embarrassed myself enough. What about you?