evil?

October 31st, 2005. On this day last year, I was extremely hung-over and driving from back Fairfield Connecticut after a dear friend’s wedding. Red-wine-head + Route 81 through the wastes of PA = a living hell that I hope to never, ever experience again. Pat Garrett and his Sheepskin line of fashion, those billboards haunt me. With that being said, to be at work, instead of in a car I could still hardly drive at the time, is actually a much better state of things. Although, I am on the cusp of a potentially maiming explosion of work here, as we approach the closing months of Q4. It is a sign of dark things to come when the director of your department is asking “what is our capacity? Are we at capacity? How about [fill-in-the-blank] more reports?”

That should be fun.

There were some interesting adventures to be had this weekend. Saturday, I dragged myself out of bed early to crank out a couple of chapters for the novel. The Habit, three quarters there-of, practiced during the afternoon. The practice was fun. Driving all over the globe to retrieve my beloved bomber jacket and continuing the impossible mission to get to practice not so fun. I managed to catch every traffic light and witness every accident that occurred Saturday afternoon between Ashburn, Arlington, and Rockville. How do I time these things?

Saturday evening we went out to a “haunted house” in Leesburg, VA. Every year, there is this guy who decks his house out with the zeal of a B-horror movie director. We’ll call him Scary McScaryson for lack of an actual name. Scary McScaryson turns his unassuming home into a bonafide manor of horrors, complete with tombstones and an eerie façade that covers the entire front of the joint. There was a replica of Linda Blair (exorcist) plastered to the upper portion of the house. Hi Linda! A skeleton in a rocking chair told us the story of the “curse.” I wasn’t really listening. Words cannot really describe what Scary McScaryson has done to his house. The level of alterations was freakish in terms of scope and detail. I was told he starts the transformation process at least a month out. There was nothing inside this house that even resembled an average suburban home. I’m not sure what his wife thinks of the annual remodeling. Rumors is, she is buried in the backyard where she cannot complain. Scary McScaryson hires an allstar cast of actors (desperately in need of work) to dress up like ghoulish creatures. Skillfully, they jumped out of walls and corners, saying things like “Boo!” and “Raaaarrrrrrr.” It was definitely fun. The Jen was extremely cute with her yelping and screaming. She did almost drag me to my death in an attempt to flee from the chainsaw brandishing clown. I would’ve enjoyed the experience more if my acorn-sized bladder was not at full capacity – the result of pre-haunted house cocktails. Afterwards, we had dinner and drinks at a microbrew down the road. To Joe’s house we went after dinner and I played the longest, but best game of pool ever (in the sense that I won). To Joe’s credit, I think he was drunk. Hence, the length of the game and the overall outcome.

Sunday morning, the lovely, lovely and I headed to Starbucks for some coffee and low fat breakfast sammies (seriously, they are good). First stroke of bad luck – “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have breakfast sandwiches here (sammies).” “Alright then, gimme a low fat blue berry muffin).”

No one said anything about bran. I do like bran, though. Really.

We returned home to much fanfare from the pets. The little fuzzies really do love us. Jen had set her coffee on the kitchen table (weird place to put a cup, right?) and went off to the lady’s room. A little cat by the name of Peanut was exuberantly weaving in and out of my legs. Peanut decided that she needed to get up a little higher. Peanut launches into the air, through a grande vanilla latte and onto the kitchen table. There is latte everywhere. “Goddamnit! Peanut! Why? Why?!” Her answer to that question was to do this bizarre little bobble head thing. A gestured that could be translated to mean: I’m really out of it. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m cute. Look at my bobbling head. There was $3.50 worth of coffee all over the table and the floor. Jen hears the “conversation” and comes dashing back into the room.

“Wha’ happened?” She asked. Well, it didn’t take long for the realization to grip her. The horror was almost too much for her to bear, as she shrugged and began to pull various articles of paper out of the spreading pool of spilled latte. I was still frozen in place, my lips moving soundlessly. Where was my latte? Had I left in the car or did Peanut take it to the basement to spread all over the walls and floor? Would I find her down there, just waiting to give me the middle finger? Fortunately for me, the latte was still in the car. I learned this as I headed out to Starbucks #2 to get Jen a new latte and a breakfast sammy. I am one hell of a guy. Once our refreshment situation was ironed out, we watched a few episodes of Lost. Then, it was down into the basement for me to engage in a painful writing experience. I did hit my goal, though. So, cheers to me!

The evening capped off with a nice workout at the gym and a tasty dinner of caeser salad, steamed shrimp, and mini-crab cakes. It was a good weekend.

What does this hallowed-eve have in story for me? I really don’t have any intentions for a Halloween Blowout. I plan on hiding from the trick-or-treaters (Probably in a tree and then I’ll drop down and yell “BOO!”). I’d like to get a solid 10K-word evening in. Then, perhaps afterwards, I’ll have a cocktail at the pub or a bit of stargazing.

Current research:

it's my island, i own it

Hallelujah, holy shit. It’s Friday. That, in and of itself, is not all that shocking. What I do find shocking is that October is over in a scant few days. Clocks are to be changed this weekend, thus gaining me an unearned, additional hour of sleep. It has been a trippy and bizarre week, to say the very least. Elliot in the Morning mentioned the Pharmacy Prophets the other day on the air (Tuesday, I think it was). He did not say we sucked. To contrary, he said we were a good band and a bunch of good guys. Clearly, he did not meet me on Saturday night; I was not on my best behavior. There are numerous parties I can thank for that, but mostly, I’d like to thank myself.

After all, this blog is about me.



The halfway-through-the-set-shot of firewater (to be read as a juice glass, brimming with amber-death) was where things took a deadly turn for me. I was praying to the gods above and the devils below that there was no encore. I wanted to set the bass down and take the Nestea plunge during that next song. I’m not weak in the knees when it comes to doing a shot, but I had gorged myself on water the entire hour prior to the set – there wasn’t much room left in there for Jack Daniels. Not to mention, Captain Morgan and his band of buccaneers had already docked for the evening in the Bay of Phil.

And that’s all there is to it.

I’ve had ridiculously prolific week on the novelist front (that sounds really pretentious, doesn’t it?). I won’t get into the ugly details of it, but you can find out more about that here. I have not worked out a single day this week. Instead, I’ve eaten and sat still. Very still. I think it has been good for my psyche to not be over-obsessed with health and exercise. If you ask the Jen, I was teetering on the edge…of something. Saturday it’s over to Arlington to retrieve my beloved bomber jacket (that someone managed to walk off with mistaking it for their own on Saturday – thank god for Gavin rescuing it) and then up to Rockville I go. It was a short break for the Habit (considering we have gone for month stretches with out playing, in the past). I’m looking forward to it, as is everyone else. We’re going to attempt resurrect and rework a tune or two from the golden days.

All in all, it has certainly been a good week. I’ll be returning to some semblance of reality next week. That’s not quite accurate.

Next week will bring something different.

Two in a Row?

What is this madness?

Two posts in just a weeks time? The five (give or take four) people that read thus must be shocked. I hit the 10,000 word mark this morning on the novel. If you’re interested in following the process, you can read about it here: Filling the Page. I’ve been listening to a lot of PodCasts lately. Of course, you could imagine what I’m thinking at this point. I’m really considering doing a weekly PodCast – why not? I love to hear myself speak, that is no secret. Odds are it will be tandem to Filling the Page, with a slightly broader approach. If I do pursue this PodCast idea, its lone focus will not be just on the writing of this second novel, but on music, and possibly claymation as well.

I mean, I’ve got so much free time.

exhale

The CD release party came and went, as every show does. I'm sure Steve will blog far more eloquently about it than I am capable of. However, I will say that I had a good time. There was a lot of support from our friends and family. Definitely appreciated. There was even a local celebrity present. Now, the Prophets are taking a week off - a well deserved week.

What will I do with this time:

I've got several priorities for this week. The first and foremost being hanging out with Jen - she was extremely supportive this past month and deserves some foot and back rubs. Which is essentially how I spent yesterday. We spent the day wasting away with each other, watching DVDs and not moving. The pets were ecstatic.

I’m going to get the scratch tracks finished up so Zach will leave me alone.

And, I’m going to write every day this week as mentioned in my 548th blog.
I think I have to do some laundry, too.

Current research:

still i see, nothing but the good things

I was shocked to discover today that I have only one version of a favorite Sisters of Mercy song - Good Things. I don't think there is any other Sister's song (save Wide Receiver) that I only have 1 version. More than one version of a song? What is this nonsense? (you're asking this of yourself, I'm not asking you.) Current tally: I have three to ten versions of most every Sisters of Mercy song.

Ten.

I guess you could say I'm obsessed with the band. A band that, for all intents and purposes does not exist. That is what makes the whole thing bizarre. It’s not that I haven’t figured it out. I figured things out a long time ago. As I see it, there are two types of Sisters of Mercy Fans.

The casual listener: The casual listener might own an album, and is probably most familiar with Floodland. The casual listener might have three to five songs (different songs) on their iPod. At the very least, the casual listener has heard the Sisters and does not refer to them as "the who?".

The fan: The fan is eenly aware of the band’s entire history. From living above the Chemist with spiggy the cat, to this past years (August 05) M’Era Luna Festival in Germany. The fan knows the finer details of the roster changes (ad nausea), and is a little concerned that Adam Pearson is now playing in MC5 (but will continue to due Sisters date anyway?). The fan believes that the band (which is really one guy, at the end of the day) will release a new album. The fan scavenges the internet for as many different versions of songs and as many live shows as they can find. The fan has at least, but not limited to two tee-shirts. Oh, and the fan thinks that Andrew Eldritch can sing.

Obviously, I fall into the latter category. I can't explain it. Perhaps there is an addictive chemical in their chicken...er music...that makes you crave it fortnightly. I'm not sure. I do know that it is some of the most lyrically compelling music I’ve heard to date. The cover art has always been extremely cool, as well. Enough about that…


The big Pharmacy Prophets CD release is at Iota tomorrow night. We finished mixing the CD last night, amidst laughing our asses of at nothing and everything. The process has been grueling. And good lord, I can’t wait to kick back, punch Steve, Trey, and Ben in the mommy-daddy box and then have a frosty beverage.

In other news, I have set up a running journal to follow my adventures in the writing of my second novel. I’ve gotten off to a strong start with it (the novel,foo'). It's pretty exciting to know that I have enough ideas for at least two books. Gives me confidence that I’ll be able to continue to write these silly things down the road.

Yet, I have only one version of Good Things.

On Dentists and Writing

It’s Tuesday October 18th. An unremarkable date, at first glance. I wager, if you grabbed one of those witty "on this day, on this year" type birthday cards, you'd learn of a plethora of occurences on this date. The big moment of this date thus far: I’m sitting here enjoying some Beef Vegetable soup. Campbell’s Select, no less. I’d be a liar if I said it wasn’t tasty. I had a rough morning after a long, sleepless night. I’m attempting make this a leisurely lunch. The truth of the matter is, I have to leave the office go to the dentist in roughly 40 minutes. I don’t like the dentist very much. Perhaps, if I were a better flosser, my visits would be less traumatic. I’m sure the hygienist will show me how to floss – for the nine-hundredth time. I just want to say, “Look, lady. I know how to floss. You’ve showed me last time I was here, and the time before that. You’ve showed me every time I’ve been to this office, just like every hygienist I’ve had before you. I might not be the brightest bulb in the examination light, but, I do know how to floss. I just don’t do it.”

But you just don’t say that type of thing to someone poised over your mouth with a razor-sharp piece of unnaturally strong thread. I knew a guy once that would’ve told you that a supreme race of extraterrestrials gave us the technology for dental floss.

Last night was a favorable night of solitude while the Jen was off at school. I had a nice, long workout at the gym. Took a lengthy and hot shower. Gawked in amazment at my hair. Poured a cool, refreshing gin and tonic and…

….I started working on novel numero two. I tackled the first several chapters and got off to what I feel is a really solid start. The desire to start on the second book of the series I'm working on has been steadily creeping up on me. I felt pretty inspired all day yesterday. I took having last night free as a chance to get the ball rolling. As inspired as I felt, the first few pages were pretty painful to squeeze out. However, the gin began to serve as a verbal laxitive and I was on my way before long. I don't know much about the story of this second book yet. I know the major plot points and the general direction, but I'm excited to see how the finer details pan out.

The remainder of the evenings this week are to be devoted to hyping the Iota CD release Bash. I’m having a hard time figuring out where the past several months have gone. Ready or not – October 22nd is a scant five days away.

On a side note, I just ate some pretzels. Underrated in the snacking community as far as I’m concerned. However, I neglected to heed the fact that pretzels have a nasty knack of sticking to your teeth. It’s as if, chemically, after several chews, the crunch goodness changes into some ultra-strong adhesive. Oh, Ms. Hygienist will have her way with me yet.

If I even as much as hear Corbin Berson's voice, I'm running.

Nice, baby. Nice.

I'm a lucky man. I get to marry this woman. This picture was taken when the Jen was in Chile. She and her group were getting ready to go into a mountain and check out the copper mining process. She had many adventures in Chile. Checking out businesses, vineyards, and the local culture, in general. On one particular evening, she taught some of her fellow classmates how to salsa dance (yeah, she salsa dances, and that is pretty hot), and then went on to dance until 4:00am. Apparently, we are adopting a small Peruvian man named Ricardo who likes to wear sweat pants...Really, though, I'm totally psyched for Jen that she had this opportunity. I wish I had gone with her. She might be going to London in 2006. I'm be sure to hop on that bandwagon.

She is the Jen. She looks both cute and sexy in that little get up. She is the package totale. Beautiful, smart, sexy, financially savvy (as I have no budgetary skills whatsoever), supportive, and has this amazing ability to put up with me and my mood swings.

Ah, to be young and in love.

On the wings of insanity

This crazy person has been mocking me, pretty much incessantly, all week - in, of course, an anonymous fashion (read about it here). However, in a break, I actually discovered a picture of the culprit!

Welcome to the Fall

I am at a loss for words. Summer came and went before I knew what happened. Work and my life-in-general have been ridiculously busy as Summer turned to Fall . I haven’t had a chance to write anything in many weeks. Amazingly, I have few minutes to spare at work. Between the last write up and today a lot has happened. I’ll try to present you with a clear, abridged play-play I finally won the battle with the Flush Master. I’d like to say I kicked its ass, but the sucker did put up a good fight to the bitter end. There were a few leaks and some other nonsense. When the dust settled, I was the victor. I can’t tell you the gratification that occurred upon that first flush.

Ironically enough, a few weeks later 2/4 flusher handles have broken, so those need to be replaced. That’s an easy job.


The next big event to go down: I gave Jen an engagement ring for her birthday. She asked for an iPod and she got a diamond. The odd part was, my heart was racing a-mile-a-minute when I “reproposed” to her. I knew that she was going to marry me, but I wanted to get down on my knee for her again. A lot has occurred in the past year that has prevented us from really enjoying our engagement, so, I wanted to start fresh. Well, apparently, she had hoped for a birthday ring all along. She said that if I got her an iPod, she would’ve enjoyed it, but would’ve thought me a complete and utter fool. I really don’t need to go give her any other reasons to think that. In the end, she is marrying this fool. Wahoo!


The Pharmacy Prophets have been hard at work on the new EP which is being released at Iota in Arlington on October 22nd. We’re down to the wire and the stress is kicking in. We had a really productive night this past week, we’ll definitely have it ready. The good night of recording worked to ease some tensions. It’s still stressful, but its dropped a couple notches. The tunes for DC101’s in studio will be ready, too. Things sound pretty damn spectacular. Ben has really outdone himself this time, as has everyone else with their performances.


El Habito Male is coming back strong now that Zach has adjusted to baby-dom and has gotten his practice space all set up. We played a show at DC9 last night and had a joyous time. We’re getting ready to record some of our new material with the end goal of either an EP or an album for release by the end of the year. There are a few more shows scheduled for the remainder of the year. I’ve also got my feelers out in Philadelphia, NYC, and some other locations for both band and potential solo shows.


My sister is presently reading/editing the novel. In the interim, I’ve taken pages of notes for the next book in the series, but have not starting writing that yet. I need to tag about four more hours onto my day. There’s just not enough time. I’m contemplating using the mornings before work to write. Two hours a day would be nice. I figure 6:00 to 8:00 am or something to that effect. I’ve been exercising in the afternoons, thus making the mornings free It’s really just a matter of can I get up at that hour? Hard-to-say, because I certainly have been hit that snooze button lately. I’ve been reading a lot, so even though I haven’t written, the writing part of my brain is still being stimulated.


I’ve had no time for stargazing. It’s a bummer that I didn’t get to enjoy some of the sparkly wonders that the Summer constellations have to offer. The Fall is a great time for astronomy, however. Hopefully I can get over to CHR when the leaves are changing, I bet it'll be really beautiful. We'll see if I can squeeze some of that in, too. I definitely enjoy it and it's exteremly cathartic to view objects so ancient and distant. It lends a sense of perspective.


My parents are coming to see our lovely home for the first time this weekend. So, between recording, Habit shows, work, recovering from a cold, and all the other general life nonsense, we’ve been trying to get the house immaculate. We’ve been sending the pets to the animal hospital for bathing and the such so that they smell more like flowers and less like dogs. (Mr. and Mrs. Rossi aren’t big animal people). Now, I’m hoping that this silly tropical storm doesn’t botch things for us. Only time and Jim Cantore will tell. Likely, what’ll happen: it’s going to rain all weekend. The dogs will no longer smell like flowers, but will smell like wet dogs. They’ll make the house all muddy, invalidating hours and hours of cleaning toil.

We’ll still have a great weekend. My parents will love our house, because it is kick ass and a major improvement from the pseudo-squalor that I used to call home in Arlington. It’s important to note that, for all the time I lived in Arlington, my parents never once were allowed to enter my apartment. One question remains: Is Momma Rossi ready for the Doobie?