posted on June 30, 2004 @ 4:41 pm
launchcast's indie station
scene: yesterday, brazos garage, early afternoon. two bored cashiers listen to launchcast's indie station.
ben: when did 'alternative' turn into crap and 'indie' turn into 'alternative'?
chelsea: i'm going to say...1996.
ben, nodding: that's just what i was going to say.
ben has two cats named francis and simon. they wear glasses. when i told him janeane is british and wears a monocle, he asked if he also had a top hat. sadly, i could say yes, but since jennifer bought it i don't know where it is.
i received an application for victim compensation whatever from the county attorney, wherein it stated the guy who assaulted me is manuel aguero, jr., born september 19th, 1972. that's a day before my birthday! (well, and 11 years earlier.)
last night i could hear my neighbor's music even in my bedroom. they were listening to quite good music, nice calm jazz. even so, i don't want to hear the bass. i knocked on their door around 2:00 a.m. to politely ask them to turn it down. i could hear the music coming through the front door, but no one answered. i knocked again, and still no answer. i returned home and noticed the music had been turned down. i felt insulted for some reason, being ignored like that. at least they knew what was wrong. i wrote them a little note in nice cursive. generally i have a better attitude to those with good handwriting. i said, "please don't play your music loudly at night. i work every morning at 7:30. thanks!" that's not completely true, but when one works over 60 hours a week for five weeks straight, i think one has a right to stretch the truth.
there's a cat who lives in the complex whom i've fed three times. he still won't allow me to pet him, but he did sniff my hand once. i named him noodle because he's so thin. he's black with a white chest, belly, and paws, and since he's not a long-haired like tima and janeane, you can see how petite he is. thus the name.
this afternoon (no, not morning as planned) on my way to genesis to finish cleaning and moving, i listened to a cd i hadn't in a long while. in high school i always bought CMJ new music monthly because it came with a cd of around 20 tracks, largely really great songs. number three on the one i chose this afternoon is "son of sam," by elliot smith. when i heard of his death last year, i was a little disturbed, not to mention guilty since he's one of those artists i've always wanted to get into but for whatever reason forget about.
"son of sam" is a beautiful song; you should listen to it if you don't know it. as i drove across the river downtown and turned onto riverside, i couldn't get the image of him just before his death out of my head. i could see him crying, drunk and/or doped up, and i felt a part of what he was feeling. i remembered the years i agonized over having to live, the few moments i had decided to definitely commit suicide, and i saw elliot stab himself.
i'm not sure what brought all this about. as i write this, i'm trying not to get teary-eyed. all this happened so quickly, and by the time i reached the intersection of riverside and congress i'd forced myself to stop thinking on it. i guess it just breaks my heart knowing anyone has to suffer through that feeling. as annoying as perpetually happy people are, i'd much rather endure their lameness than have them doubt themselves that highly.
when i got to my old apartment i dove into cleaning the fridge since jennifer finally emptied it. when i got to the freezer, i noticed there was still a bit left in there: a microwave dinner and hot pocket of mine, and some popsicles.
you know the cheap popsicles you buy in liquid form, then throw them into the freezer? that's the kind. we'd bought some a long time ago with tropical flavors. most of them tasted funny to me, but what sold them were the bananas. i'm a banana-flavored-anything whore, and knowing those were in there were good enough for me. and they were so good, too.
well, in addition to my old food i had no intention of ever eating, there was a tray of banana popsicles; she'd picked them from the rest and placed them back where they went. it's not like she left them because she didn't like them. i know she did.
this finding created a terrible feeling in my gut, and it still hasn't left. i thought of the times i stayed up tending to her when she was sick, going to the grocery store in the middle of the night to get cough medicine and drops, and orange juice with lots of pulp. i remembered her bringing home extra goetze's caramel creams from work for me, and the time frank and i went playing in the park and riding around downtown, coming home exhausted and starving, seeing her pull a dish of baked chicken from the oven and saying, "just in time!" she'd done a whole meal, and it was the greatest thing i could have seen at that moment.
it all seemed like such a waste. her immaturity and my stubbornness destroyed something really wonderful. i don't adapt well to change, especially when it comes to people. she was my one comfort, and she turned into a drunken whore.
as i was on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor in just some shorts and my bra, she and another girl appeared. i continued scrubbing, waiting until they had taken a load of her things to the car before i stood up to put on my shirt.
i didn't look at her or the strange girl once. i continued to scrub and clean the kitchen, entrance, and downstairs bathroom. once they left for good i vacuumed again and cleaned the banisters. i stood in my room looking around and absorbing the varying vibes. i felt the cats' anger at being trapped in there for weeks before we could move. i saw jennifer poking her head in the door to tell me john ritter had died, then returning seconds later to tell me johnny cash had died. i saw louis slam my door and break it. i could still feel owen.
i'm not sure why leaving was so hard. probably because not only am i leaving a cool apartment, but i'm also leaving jennifer. a world of funny voices, obscure movie quotes, and inside jokes all dead.
just as i started carrying the last of my things to the car, it began to storm. the moment i finished, the rain stopped. in my car, i hit the steering wheel and yelled, "fuck you!" presumably to whoever controls the weather. the girl in the office asked if my roommate were turning in her keys later, and i had to explain the situation. i told her all my things are out, and i cleaned the entire apartment except for her room. i gave her the house key, the new mailbox key (jennifer's broke off in the old lock, and since they replaced it i kept the old key), and the gate key. when she asked for the access card that opened the entrance, i went to the car to retrieve it. once again, it was raining when i went to the car but stopped by the time i was inside the office once again. i gave her a forwarding address, she smiled and said, "you're all set!" and as i returned to my car i saw that it'd started raining again.
i have my own personal rain cloud hovering above me.
i drove through downtown to save time and also stop by sonic, and it poured. when i arrived at work sibyl said, "it's gotten worse since you got here, chelsea!"
":flatly: i bring it with me."
my mania seems to be waning, but i'm sure it'll kick back up a notch by the end of the night. if nothing else, talking to owen will help.
"everything i try to do, nothing seems to turn out right."
<3, chels
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