|Operational Systems at 50% Power.
||[Jan. 24th, 2004|03:45 am]
|[||In the Moment
|||||Red Hot Chili Peppers - Parallel Universe||]|
Christ I'm a sidewinder, I'm a
I swear it's everywhere
It's a whirlwind tour.
I just hope I have the cash to last through the lean point before the eventual paycheck.
Greetings from Melrose and Western. I'm in the great Holly land of Los Angeles. I've just lost 20 dollars in a poker match after being up 16 in Texas Hold'Em, and I feel great.
Where should I begin . . .
This life-altering event began in 2000, when I took a plane to see Brad Kean as he began his school at USC. It was 2.5 weeks of rip-roarin' fun, with a side-trip into Vegas back then . . . I lost all my dough on the last day in 15 minutes at Binion's Horseshoe.
Let me give a lil' piece of advice to young adults who get comped a room for an extra day in Vegas. Take the room, stay away from the tables, and go get shitfaced. Your wallet will thank you, even though your liver and kidneys will bitch a bit. Like Hunter Thompson, as we got on the road to get us on the freeway out of there, I screamed, right out of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, "You people voted for Hubert Humphrey, and you killed Jesus."
I watched Hard Boiled, an interesting John Woo film, during that trip. I dined at Mariasol in Santa Monica, which was just north of Brad's eventual home. I had no girlfriend at the time, and I didn't meet anyone, nor did I see any stars. So much for that.
However, Brad's friend Quinn invited the two of us to a party in an apartment (was it a hotel? Foggy) off of Sunset. I remember talking to the beautiful people, and one of them popped that ugly question, 'What do you want to do with yourself?'
I told them the truth, that I wanted to live out here.
It is now 3.5 years since that point, and I'm clacking to you from that point, old Chris. You bastard, you were right all along. You should have just begged, borrowed, and stole the necessary funds to get your ass out here, pronto.
However, I did have some valuable learning lessons in between those days before now. If I'd learned some of the stuff out here, it would have cost me more than I could have afforded.
Right now the computer's without the sound system and the other hookups. Unfortunately, it won't be until after the weekend that the battle system becomes fully operational.
Under water where thoughts can breathe Easily
Far away you were made in a sea
Just like me
2003 was a signpost. The sign read, 'You will die in Detroit if you don't move now.' I'm not afraid of death, but I am afraid of taking the easy path. That's a healthy fear I've developed, and it's served me well.
My OnStar job at this point last year put a salary freeze right above my head, with just a few cents to get a raise. The management suggested that some of the higher-paid advisors should consider a pay cut. People started to receive strange and terrible reviews on their quality monitors. Those folks soon departed from the company shortly after such reviews.
From that dying candle, I lasted until March 1st, where I had an ugly argument with the director of the company. Basically, I had no idea there was a policy of no smoking out in front of EDS buildings. When I retorted that director's order to put out my cigarette, she hounded me, belittled me, and shocked and inflamed me. I hollered at a couple of my supers after that . . . I left work early, and I was fumed. A security guard wanted to check my bag in an unannounced security policy on the way out the door, and when I refused, he became aggressively virulent toward me. He turned into the Drill Sarge from Full Metal Jacket, and I ran away . . . after calling him a "Nazi."
I felt horrible, but I felt goddamn justified back then as I do now. That stupid director isn't currently with the company, from what I've heard. One of the sympathetic supers got fired, and the rat bastard super who ratted on me about my tirade, he's still a jerk. No one likes him anyway.
That wasn't worth the dollars per hour, ladies and gents. I received the wake-up call. Why toil in a dead job when you can be broke and happier? I was literally miserable. A week after that awful evening, I slipped into the night, never to return.
Then I picked up an insurance job, at the behest of my mom to give Detroit jobs one last try. That didn't work, either. Strike six.
Back pain through the summer racked me until I fixed that in the fall . . . then my grandmother died after long illness, and I traveled down to Arkansas by mini-van with my dad.
That trip was the final turning point, the lurch in my urchy chest, as I re-entered Michigan. Gridlock, asshole drivers, and pure inner cries to leave pointed me anywhere . . . anything.
Then, a month later, Jim was accepted to finish his undergrad at USC. He offered to room with me if I was interested.
Staring straight up into the sky
Oh my my a solar system that fits
In your eye Microcosm
Things progress slowly. They progress, however. As soon as I had a bout of terrible shits the first Sunday I experienced as an LA resident, I knew I was home.
Oh sweet Jesus, I was sick. I thought I was going to have to go to the hospital with dysentery. However, like that awful Sunday, Monday became the wonderful relief. I went on one of my first walks with Jim, my roommate, and I could hold down water by the evening.
Now, I'm trying to eat healthier. I still haven't kicked smoking, and I probably won't for a while. I am exercising, which is an improvement. The day gives way to the night to the day. And, the best part is that it's literally the same day every day. When the forces that be shaped this area, they forgot to write an algorithm for variations of weather patterns.
For many, this can become nutty. For me, the nutjob, this is pure bliss. I don't do well in cold weather. I really haven't been able to properly explain myself in a frigid climate. I don't believe most people in LA can properly explain themselves either, and that gives me a warm feeling inside of my belly.
The fire is burning again in me. Today, I took my first ride around the town in my car. We have a double-spot, so Jim was doing a lot of the driving because his car was the 1st out . . . I slipped out early today to get the thing washed. It had picked up all the salt and muck from the shipping across the country. Finally, my Flossy Ghetto Hoopty shone with the sparkle of a triple-wax and hand wash. Yes, the sun shines on even the Ghetto Hoopties some days.
Jim and I discovered the wonders of Los Feliz Suburbialand, as N Western turns to the N/W and becomes it. I ate a big-ass Baja Fresh Supa-Grande-Fabuloso-Burrito with a side of tortillas and guacamole. After the Guacamole, I slathered them in two different hot sauces and ate every last crumb, just because I have Cajun blood and I'm a Saucy motherfucker to begin with.
And finally, the capper tonight, driving at night on streets that are largely unfamiliar, I made it to my friend Brad's place in Venice.
Note to young drivers: Unless you're in a very-one-way-street-twisty-mess city like Boston, Mass., or Ann Arbor, Mich., it's okay to get lost.
I thought I was turning on what I saw marked "Venice" but it was Rose. Driving down side-streets, I used my Sauce-sense to decipher the way to Pacific, where I called Brad and re-hooked up at Pacific and Venice with not much time lost.
I sat down with Brad and his great friends, was up for a bit, then lost 20 bucks by 1:30 AM. You wouldn't think losing was fun, but it was great to watch Brad's pal Eli go freaking ballistic with the chips and totally run the table with great cards and better play. I felt like a total amateur compared to him. I'm starting to get used to Hold'Em however, and for sure I'll sustain myself better through the lean cards that ate my 20 bucks in a hurry.
Psychic changes are born in your heart Entertain
A nervous breakthrough that makes us the same
Bless your heart girl
Heidi, I love you very much. If I hadn't met you back at OnStar, I would have been having sex with some 30 year old European across the street from Brad's.
Anna called out to me from across the street. She wanted me to come up for a smoke, but I declined in light of my pals and the poker game (read: yes, because of you Heidi :D). When I told them about the willing Euro girl across the way, the guys all requested that I go back there and show her a good time. When I explained I had Heidi back home, they laughed. Yes, LA tends to lose you some dignity, but it's all good fun because those bastards almost all had girlfriends, and one of 'em was married. Bitches. :D
I found my way home with another wrong turn, but I discovered Vermont is a better street to take back north to the Battle Zone. I tried a run to Ralph's for some distilled water but the fuckers were closed, probably due to the strike.
So it is, folks. I'll have more stories and pictures. In light of my new home, I'll give you a lil' song, a lil' dance, and maybe a lil' seltzer in your pants.
Have a good weekend. I'm having one. :D