Well, the Gardenburger tasted alright. I think I'd be more than capable of incorporating this item into my diet on a regular basis. The one thing you have to realize is that these things aren't meant to taste like a hamburger. They're meant to have a sort of savory flavor all their own. Rather a mushroom-onion sort of deal, with oats mixed in.
I'm not absolutely certain what I did Friday night.....but I think it involved Don Pablo's and a trip to Tower Records. I know, my life is fantastic, right?
Saturday was both amazing and disappointing at the same time. Our Potential Lead Singer showed up about half an hour late, and seemed to have the IQ of a smashed toad. He kept complaining about how strange the rhythms were in our songs. Hey, if Roachboy could sing ‘em, this guy sure as hell could. Unfortunately, the guy had a lousy voice (who told him he could sing?), greased back his hair, and dressed like a morbid prep (preps are those freak people from Disturbing Behavior....letter jackets, brain-dead, etc.). None of this was especially promising....then he did something that impressed me. He pulled a Cheap Blind Date maneouver. You know what I'm talking about....a girl goes on a blind date and decides she isn't interested in the guy at all but doesn't have the guts to say so. So, she tells the guy she's going to the ladies' room, then walks out of the restaurant. That's basically what this guy did. Except he said he was going to 7-11, and just never came back.
Is it just something with lead singer types? Are they just stupid prima-donnas? I think so. I'm sure Roachboy (who certainly isn't putting up his sad little novels right now, so has nothing better to do (unless he's trying to get his little junkie ex to go back out with him)) is braying like the depraved mule he is right now, so let me just point out how lousy a lead singer he was, yet again: he couldn't sing, he couldn't really scream well (thanks to all the smoking he did), he drank gallons of tea and/or coffee and spent 1/4 of practice in the bathroom. His voice could sterilize a dog at fifty paces.
Anyway, Katie, Dirk and I ended up at Brother's Pizza until it closed, talking. Katie's gotten her hair cut, thus ending the long-standing rivalry between us. Now the contest is to see who can have the shortest hair....Katie'll probably win that.
Sunday was spent in Georgetown, shopping!!! We went to Georgetown Park, which, I must say, is the loveliest mall I've ever been to. We also went to this gourmet supermarket. I wish I could remember the name, but it's right next to Georgetown park....their chocolate-covered espresso beans were about $10.00 a pound. They had all sorts of wonderful things I would have enjoyed eating....I kept myself from buying anything. They also had Hillary Clinton and Monica Lewinksy cookies....hand-painted. $20.00 each.
From a shop in Georgetown Park, I bought Bath Confetti. It's brightly colored little circles that look like paper, but turns into a bubble bath. I also found a shop that specializes in animal artwork.....when I move out, I plan to re-decorate my entire house in this stuff.
We also went to Smash!, of course....Dirk found a 7-inch of the outtakes from Everything Sucks, the Descendents' latest album. It's mine now....we also went to another record store that had...you'll never believe this: Take the Guitar Player For A Ride, the Peter Laughner album. Two copies. I thought this was supposed to be a rare album...maybe they just lucked out. They wanted $25 for them. I've still got my copy, that used to be Roachboy's (until the silly bastard gave it to me). I wonder if Roachboy's found a copy yet.
Sunday night, Dirk and I went to see Blade. Fantastic movie, if you like vampire/action flicks.
Monday was a lazy day. Dirk cut about 8-9 inches off my hair for me (yes, I'm cheap). He managed to keep it straight, or fairly so. We bought citronella candles (on sale) and two terra-cotta pots for my basil plants. I went to a used bookstore while Dirk went to the music store next door....new reading material!
I also bought couscous, which was rather disappointing. I was expecting great things...and it was like really bland, wet grits. With a pasta texture. Which is, I suppose, what they basically are.....pasta grits.
I forgot to mention that in Tower I bought the new Henry Rollins book, Solipsist. Henry's a great writer, even though some of his stuff is a bit...stream-of-thought. He's doing a spoken-word performance in October...I may go and see it.
My cousin and her friend have pooled together their meager McDonald's earnings and bought a $350 car. They plan on getting an apartment nearby, at a scary little complex that's got a high crime rate. Honestly, that girl's much more stubborn than I could ever be. Of course, if Dirk would get his ass in gear and find employment, I could be moving out....we'll see. Dirk's got a month, then the rehearsal space is gone (because he can't pay for another month).
Anyway, it's Tuesday morning, I'm sitting at my job, and hating every minute of it. Alex is out. Probably getting his colon fixed or something. The phones are ringing off the hook, and I have yet to tell anyone who calls that the people they're looking for are out on vacation. Tough shit....so, if you ever happen across my secret branch of the government, just remember: the cheerful voice you hear just before you get transfered to someone's voice mail for the sixteenth time that morning is me.