Further proof that Dirk lives with a whole bunch of assholes, as opposed to actual family members: they called the police on him this morning, claiming that he'd been evicted, and was refusing to leave the premises. Wanna know why? Because they decided to sand his door at noon (he'd only gone to sleep at 8 that morning, due to insomnia), and he requested that his brother stop sanding for an hour, since he was leaving in an hour anyway. His brother sneered at him and continued sanding. After going back and forth like this for a while, Dirk took the sander from his brother and threw it out the door.
In retaliation, his mother insisted upon telling someone who called for Dirk that he "wasn't home", even though she knew he was downstairs changing his shirt. Dirk yelled at her, she called the police. Just to be a bitch. When Dirk pointed out that he wasn't required to leave the premises until the end of the month, the policemen were very understanding and friendly. I hope his mother felt really stupid. I hope she dies, too. And the rest of Dirk's family. They're all fucked-up.
On that cheerful note, we had our first practice today. We were thirty minutes late, and crammed into my mom's cavalier, but we made it, with Chuck (formerly known as Charlie) in tow. The space was georgeous. They didn't have a vending machine, like the old place, but they had a water fountain and a pay phone. And a desk, with a chair and an old-fashioned typewriter. Don't know why. The equipment is in primo condition, even though it's old, and the space is clean, since there's no smoking allowed in the actual rehearsal space. But you can smoke your lungs black in the lobby area, with the desk and the chair.
Chuck catches on amazingly quickly. I think I'm going to like working with him. Even Richard, the guy we rent the space from, said he had a good feeling about Chuck. What can I say? He's a genuinely nice guy, and he's not afraid to work his ass off to learn our songs. I even got to sing "Pale Blue Eyes". I need to quit smoking, though. I started coughing so hard my stomach was convulsing. Made it through the song twice, though.
I got a lecture from my mother. She wants to know why I hang out with "losers" like Dirk. She asked, "Is that what you want? To always be renting houses, never owning them?"
I said, "Well, I haven't noticed any improvement in our lives since we bought this house. If anything, the house is a little uglier than a rented house would be, since we don't have to worry about catching hell from a landlord for all the shit we have strewn all over the yard."
I love having these conversations with my mother. She's such an incredibly petty person, it amazes me. How can I be related to her? I've got to move out.Still haven't heard from Kenneth. Wonder what's up. Still haven't sent his stuff, either.
Chrissie got an e-mail from Krisco that was rather heartening. She sent Krisco a one-liner, intended to annoy her. I think it said, "How do you survive, knowing how completely pathetic you are?" Krisco's response was amazing. "new life. fuck off." I'm impressed. I feel so relieved. Maybe it is true, and all the things Chrissie and I did finally got through to the stupid little bitch. Maybe it snapped her into reality. I hope she stays that way.
Dirk and I did our absolute favorite thing: buying pints of ice cream and eating them in the car. He got peanut butter cup, and I got blackberry cobbler. I never finish more than half my pint, so he eats the rest. We also got Pina Colada flavored drink stuff. Arizona Ice Tea brand, I think. It's got the fucked-up Injun (native american) on the bottle.
My shoulders are aching, since I'm not used to practicing anymore. I loved practice, though. It's been so long since I felt the rush of adrenaline from really getting into a song, I'd almost forgotten how incredible it could feel. Unfortunately, I'm expected to wake up early tomorrow to mow the front lawn (I'm abused).