Smooth

Why am I in such a crappy mood today? Damn I hate rhetorical questions. I sort of know why but then maybe I don't. There are these times when nothing is as it should be. And this is one of those times. I have an hour and twenty minutes before I have to go to work and I'm just going to write because that's the reason I started this thing--to get back to writing, to figure out what style, content, and all that bullshit works for me, regardless of what anybody thinks, which I seem to care about more than what I think--reviews are nothing but a pretense for mental stimulation.

So yes, part of the problem is that I have to go to work at 1:30pm and be there for the next 13 hours and then do it again tomorrow, only starting a couple of hours later. I'm thankful for the work as it's not like we couldn't use the money, but sometimes these people who come to town and hire us aren't exactly the most enjoyable people to work for. (I know, suck it up slight. Well, suck this, I say.) And it's the fact of the job's timing, with the Mrs.' birthday right in the middle of it, on a Friday no less, and we started shooting on Saturday. I got to go out with her on Friday, but we didn't get to spend any time together on Saturday or Sunday, at her birthday 40s. And then I forgot to tell her that the last 2 shoot days were splits (half-day half-night) until last night so she gets up this morning all pissed at me, and the cat, and that gets me up in a bad mood. That and the cat buggin' for food. Me coming home last night with work still to do, waiting for people to call me back. Part of my job is to make sure everybody has all the information they need. Sometimes I leave this information in a message and ask them to call me back to confirm that they received the info. Sounds pretty easy right? I generally end the message saying "Call me back so I know you got the message." Some people do, but plenty don't. I don't know what they're thinking, but how hard is it to call me back? There are those who say these are adults and if they don't have the info they know who to call and that's true, but there are still adults who are... well, stupid. I've had times where people have called me and it doesn't show up in my phone, or somebody leaves a message but I don't get it for several hours or until the next day. How am I supposed to know this didn't happen to whomever I left one of those messages and that's why they haven't called back?

rant, rant, rant. this seems pointless. i have to remind myself that it isn't, but i don't think i'm doing a good job.

I look around this house and see so much more that makes me angry. This house makes me angry. That's why I want to move, partly. Why do we have so much crap? Why do people have to keep giving us crap? Just because we're married and want to buy a house doesn't mean we want or need to have stuff. But if you tell people that, they don't get it. I look at the bills needing to be paid and wonder, no, worry where that money is coming from, if it will be here in time. I keep saying I'm tired of being poor, of struggling, of going for the most part paycheck to paycheck, tired of thinking what others must be thinking of me, us.

breathes deeply, tries to calm down. doesn't really. okay, sort of.

When we were on our trip (oh god, not another story about the Trip. yes, another. deal with it, because I will talk about it until the day I die.), I don't want to say I was looking for myself because that's so cliched, but it's true. I wasn't doing it actively or anything, like waking up in the morning, looking in the mirror and saying to myself, "Ok, what will I learn today?" There was one time I sorf of did that, in Hanoi, Vietnam. I was not having a good time there, lots of culture shock, figuring out how to deal with the people primarily, and being frustrated at all this... work... I was having to do. So at this temple to Confucius, I prayed to him, for the ability to understand the locals, myself, my environment be it Vietnam or anywhere else. I walked back out into the courtyard of the temple and met a Buddhist monk. I was wearing a Buddha pendant and he had noticed it. Meanwhile, a Buddhist nun approached and talked to the Mrs. Then we sit down and 2 local guys come up to us and start talking, wanting to practice their English. They were very nice and we talked about many different things for about an hour. For all the people there making me cuss and mutter like a freak, it was a relief to know that there were others like us, just wanting to meet people from other walks of life.

Later, within the course of a week, I would meet 3 people who all said pretty much the same thing: Don't live your life worrying or thinking about money, just do that which brings you happiness. I heard this from a drunk, old American ex-pat who loved the Libyan people and didn't have a problem being a letch in front of the Mrs., a Thai woman who ran a money-losing bar after having left her hometown which made money from sex tourists, and from Mr. Q. He was a Thai of Chinese descent and ran a guesthouse on the outskirts of a town called Pai. He used to own another guesthouse (which in Pai meant a group of bamboo huts) in town, but he had problems with some of the other locals, and then as the town got more popular, he didn't want to deal with so many tourists. So he moved out a little bit, up a hill, and built a new place, slowly, with his own hands. He told us he didn't care about making as much money as he could and didn't want just anybody staying with him. He would turn people away if he got a bad vibe from them, if he thought they were just into drinking and partying. And this isn't to say he didn't like to drink, because he did. He let us stay there, though maybe part of the reason was because we told him Joey sent us and they had really hit it off when Joey was there. We only had a few days there, and Joey and the people who were staying there when we arrived all talked about what a great man he was, (all Joey told me before we got there was that Mr. Q would take care of us), how they had seen something differently (marriage, life, whatever) and they attributed it to him. About halfway thru our time there, I began to lament the fact that I hadn't had this opportunity with him; he was kind of private and wouldn't necessarily hang out with his guests. But that night he did, we had some drinks with him and talked about all sorts of things. And then, I don't remember what we had been talking about, but he was suddenly talking to me, about me, about my future, though he wouldn't tell me my future.

He said (from my journal entry that night, 4/9/02), "I see you. Your face never changes. You are smooth. You are smart. You know what you want. You will take care of your family. You will be a big man, not like the president but you will be big, take care of your family. You will make money in computers. Help people. You will help people. Your face is smooth, will not change. You are smart."

I almost didn't realize he was talking directly to me, but when I did we were alone, me and him. My heart felt like it stopped beating and there were only these words he was saying to me, this nobody. I like that he said I was smooth. He didn't mean that I was slick and cool, but calm and together, that things didn't faze me, or wouldn't, because what's this entry if not me being fazed. Taking care of my family, helping people, I really couldn't ask for more. I've definitely realized that I do come from caregivers, not in the occupational sense like a nurse, but in how they live(d) their lives, specifically my mom and grandmother. That was soemthing else I discovered over there, that for the most part, all the anonymous faces want is to be happy and to take care of their families and those they love.

Now, it's almost 3 years later and I'm still struggling to make this so. To stop saying these things and talking about this or writing about it, and to live this way. I'm not sure what it's going to take for me to apply this but if I don't I may very well drive myself crazy and... worse... drive away those close to me.

exhales. looks at the clock. time to go to work. which is for sucks.

Houses we looked at yesterday

We want to buy a house. We've been looking since September. We've come across a couple of good properties but their locations sucked. It's somewhat frustrating, and scary (as in the $$ aspect), but I want one. Our current residence, while great for the most part, is not ours. If we want to paint, the landlords say white. There's some foundation problems, and the back bathroom, which is basically a plywood add-on, started developing some mold. I told the landlord who brought in the Old-Timer's Handyman Gang and they found a leak. But they didn't really do anything about the mold. So, adios. Let's get our own place and paint it how we want it and do whatever the hell we want to it. I don't know, I just see a house being an extension of one's, or twos' in our case, characters and personalities, and not being able to do that to our fullest extense here is holding us back. Sort of. Whatever.

So yesterday we looked at 4 houses. The first one was 6706 Haney in the 23. The 23 (as in 78723) is where we think we've got the best opportunity to get something that meets all of our criteria. 6706 Haney is a 3-2 with 1257 sq. ft. It was in good condition on a pretty good street. If it wasn't for the few cons, we might make a move on it. The cons are as follows. 1) The bedrooms were all pretty small. 2) It had a 2nd living room which wasn't that big (it used to be a 4th bedroom), so what to do with it (maybe a reading room?). 3) The back yard was on the small side, which isn't too terrible. We do want to get a dog, probably a big 'un, and it wouldn't give him much room. 4) We are tired of washing dishes and would like to have a dishwasher. Again, kind of minor. I'm going to keep my eye on this one and just see what happens.

Then, it was down the street to 6715 Haney. This was the exact same house but with the 4th bedroom intact and the layout flip-flopped. It was a corner lot with a smaller back yard and no trees whatsoever. Also, the washing machine connections were in the kitchen, which I'm not having. Sayonara.

#3 was 1315 Westmoor. This was a 3-2 turned on its side, so the living room windows looked at the house next door and a tiny kitchen window looked out to the street. The back door opened right into the stove. Again the washer lived in the kitchen and the dryer in a storage room under the carport. The back yard made an L around the house. The 2 bathrooms needed updating big-time. And they were in the process of re-carpeting or something. There was some nice crown molding in the living room. The Mrs. liked it though. Call me crazy, she said. No, I said, I'll call you retarded. There was some kind of exposed pipe in the back yard? Moving on.

The last place was 2213 Rountree, in the 22. This was a 3-1. It had nice pecan floors and that was about it. It was on the corner with Manor and Airport Blvd. only a block away, so it backed up to a business and had the backside of a billboard hanging over the backyard. There was a hot tub also. One bedroom (and not the big one) had a walk-in closet with a 2nd door that led to a hallway. Huh?

The Best Pizza in the World

This is Wednesday. There's a 50% chance we'll eat pizza tonight. The Mrs. has group and doesn't get home until 7:45 and she also wants to watch Lost which still has 15 minutes to go. So that tape gets started at 8. And as I was sick for most of the day (note to self: in the future refrain from having both juice- and dairy-based adult beverages together), we just jumped up to about an 80% chance on the Pizza Probability Predictor. The usual suspects for us are: Conan's, Mr. Gatti's, Austin's Pizza, and Double Dave's. We are all about supporting the locals but sometime's the pies from Conan's smell bad, like somebody's feet, or are all gooey and wet on the bottom. Gatti's, as it is meant to do, comes at you pretty much the same all the time and it was started in Austin. Sometimes half the toppings just fall off, but you can put them back on. DD is just kind of ehhh (shrugs shoulders) and Austin Pizza is the best but they charge for delivery and their prices are higher than the others to begin with. I have this thing about paying too much or too little for certain things. And a delivered, large surpreme pizza should not cost $18+ in Austin, Texas. It's for this reason that we also avoid the Parlor, too, which sucks b/c that joint makes a mean pizza.

A few weeks ago we ordered a Conan's. It was of the gooey and wet on the bottom variety and it did not improve, even after we kept it in the oven for another 45 minutes. Well, we said, this was fitting as we were going to the NYC the next day. The birthplace of the pizza pie. We had been told by a friend, G, to go a place called Lombardi's in Little Italy. And to get extra marinara sauce. When we got there, it turned out that another establishment, Una Pizza Napoletano, had come on the scene and was, as they say, da bomb. Da bomb as in White Heat has a friend who is the king geek of pizzas (and I say that as a geek myself), and he could not stop talking about the place for more than 4 minutes; we know it was 4 minutes because we timed him. He, and others, said this place had the best pizza. Period. End of Story. Lombardi's, once the king, was now number 2.

The Mrs. and me made it to Lombardi's at the end of a rainy day spent seeing KD, helping an old man who did a faceplant running down the wet sidewalk, and checking out the Met. It was almost exactly as I expected it to be. Corner establishment, little door, big main dining room with a bar, and a smaller one that was the business next door once upon a time. Filled with people. It was a good vibe. We got a booth in the back room and ordered a couple of glasses of wine, a salad to share, and a large pepperoni, onion, 1/2 calamatta olives, 1/2 roasted pepers, with extra marinara sauce and got the garlic that was free upon request. For our tastes, we could have done without the extra sauce; it might have been a little dry, but it was a watery sauce and so, ehh. Otherwise, that was a good fuckin' pizza, yo. And it came out fast for as many people were there, maybe 15 minutes. She took one piece home.

The day after Christmas, was Sunday and our last chance to hit Una Pizza Napoletano. It's only open Thu-Sat from 5 until they run out of dough, and Sunday from noon until they ran out of dough. (And I don't mean as in short on funds, if that's what you were thinking.) It was a small place, maybe 8 tables, but they could only cook 3 pies at a time in their wood-burning brick oven. The... what do you call a guy who makes pizzas?... he was a guy, probably in his 30s, with tattoos all up and down his arms. He offered 4 variations: one margherita, one w/o cheese, one w/o tomato sauce, and I can't remember what the other one was, maybe a margherita with garlic? or pesto? (How about a little help, White Heat?) If you wanted to drink, you brought your own. He had soft drinks, juices, and water. As we were with White Heat, we got one of each, except for the Margherita. There were 2 empty tables when we came in around 6. It took maybe 20-30 minutes for ours to come out. They were about the size of a plate and you got a fork and a knife. We each cut ours into 6ths and shared. The crust was pretty thin, but with ash on it, so you know it's good. The piemaster(!) also used a noticeable amount of salt which I didn't care for. I liked these pizzas, my favorite being the all cheese pie. But they weren't as off the chart as I had been led to believe. They were good and obviously hand-made, but they weren't the be-all end-all for me. The NYC pizza battle would have to go to Lombardi's.

But the best pizza I've ever had, and the Mrs. agrees with me, was in Barcelona. We were going to the Picasso Museum and found this place just down the narrow, brick-paved street. I don't have any idea what its name was. Maybe I could find it online, if it's even still open (this might be it). Like most of the pizzas in Europe their pies were personal-sized, and served on cutting boards with a fork and knife. This place just did it up right. The toppings were perfect. Good cheese with just enough sauce. The crust was crunchy without being thin. Thinking about it now makes my mouth water. If I have one complaint, it is this: they could have been bigger. Not much, just a little. We would go back one more time before we caught the train to Italy. And this was the best pizza in the world.

Million Dollar Baby

I'm a Clint Eastwood fan, I admit it. Sure, he's made his pieces of crap. But then he turns around and hits you with an Unforgiven. I didn't know much about it going in other than it was about boxing, a father-daughter type relationship, and that it was getting nothing but praise from critics en masse. Eastwood plays a boxing gym owner who's a little too tentative in most aspects of his life and it's costing him. Hillary Swank is a white-trash waitress who wants him to teach her to box. He resists at first, but comes around when she just won't stay away. Then comes the teaching, the rise to the top, the bonding. Everything is done in a very understated manner. It's never about the film with Eastwood, it's about the people in the film and their story. There's nothing overly stylish that says, "Look at me! I'm a Clint Eastwood movie!" like you might find in say, a Quentin Tarantino movie. You're just watching these events happen, these two people who find in each other the familial bond they're missing with their own flesh and blood. And that's what this film is ultimately about, finding that person who understands you and by sharing your life, completes you. It's a love story, just not your typical one. What would you do for the person you love? How much do you let them live and how much do you protect them?

I wasn't blown away by this movie. Oh, I liked it a lot and yeah, it deserves the accolades it's getting. But there's nothing in it that grabbed me or stood out. It just...was. Does that make sense? It's like I said, it's just there to tell the story of these people. And when it's over, the story is finished but there's neither joy nor sadness. Because the story--your story, my story, our story--it never really stops does it? No, we go on.

The Beastles

So, like I said, the Mrs. and me were in the NYC for Christmas staying with, ahem, WHITE HEAT, and seeing old friends who made the move, one being Rogelio. After drinking the worst margaritas in the world at a so-called Mexican restaurant, we finally hooked up with him at this place in Brooklyn called Royale. Lots of black and red, strong drinks, nice. And before I was able to fully revive my tastebuds with my 2nd drink, my head started moving to the beat. A beat that was 35+ years old, but with words much newer. It was the Beatles with the Beastie Boys on top. Holy shit.

Mashed up by one dj BC, it's the kind of thing that you wonder why it hadn't already been done. (Maybe it was, but it never crossed my radar.) As a latecomer to the world of mash-ups and getting music via the interweb, I've only heard The Grey Album and another compilation a friend gave to me consisting mostly of 80s stuff. The Grey Album is, for me, much more of a remix album, as the only Beatles tracks instantly recognizable are While My Guitar Gently Sleeps and Rocky Raccoon. The rest are cut down to the bare essentials that DJ Danger Mouse needed. With the Beastles, BC lets the original music speak mostly for itself. Sure, there's some drum tracks added and the music is cut up here and there, but it's the Beatles coming thru loud and clear. It opens with Whatcha Want, Lady (So Whatcha Want over Lady Madonna) and the piano trips along with the flow laid down by the Boys, but I dig the 2nd track more. Here we find Triple Trouble over Day Tripper, whose killer opening chords are looped under the verses. I've also got to give props for Mad World Forever, which finds the BB's protest song In A World Gone Mad vs. Strawberry Fields Forever. It totally works.

Sitting there in Royale that night, I'll admit that the second half didn't grab me nearly as much as the first half, but now, the whole damn thing grabs me and slaps me around a little bit. Luckily, I'm into that kind of thing.

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou

Saw this in NYC last week. I had been real hesitant to see it as The Royal Tennenbaums was a big disappointment for me. And I'd also caught just a glimpse of their underwater world and didn't know what to make of it. But that was what our committee picked and by the end of the credits (yup, we watched 'em because I wanted to hear another Portuguese Bowie song, but also to see if I recognized any names), I was so happy that the following 2 words were what popped into my head: "fucking brilliant."

I worked on Rushmore, and while it wasn't the best of experiences personally, it was a great movie. Bottle Rocket was also a good little film and as I went to UT like Wes Anderson and Owen Wilson, it was cool to help out some locals who made it big. So it sucked for me not to like Tennenbaums. I should probably give it a second chance, because the big problem for me was how it was marketed. I was expecting much more of a comedy than the tragedy I saw. And while I've got nothing against filmmakers with a unique style, which WA certainly has, it totally took me out of the moment in that film.

But I digress....

Life Aquatic grabbed me from the beginning and didn't let go. All of the actors were great, to the point that at times I wanted to see more of them than Bill Murray. Oh yeah, he's in it, in case you didn't know. And he owns it, mothertruckers. One of our crew noted that the role wasn't that much different from his parts in Rushmore and Lost in Translation, and it sort of is. It's closer to the former than the latter, but it's still its own character. Thematically, this movie was similar to Rushmore in that the main character is obsessed with something and... there's a back half to this but it would ruin the end of the film and I'm not going to be that guy. Go see it. Owen Wilson tones it down and plays a great character. Cate Blanchett's accent borders on being annoying and that's a good thing. And the intern's subplot reminded me of a Bill Murray story from Rushmore that I'll save for another time.

Mic check...

one... two... one... two....

Is this thing on?