Just Stuff

Sorry for the lack of updates recently, but my creativity well has runneth dry yet again. I never intended this blog to be a "What I had for breakfast" or "What I watched on TV last night" kind of blog, but I'm starting to get desperate for content. So, like my blogger bud RR's request, if you have any ideas, requests, or questions, send them my way. Hopefully, it will jump start some creativity and I can start posting regularly again before y'all renounce your Dim City citizenship (I've already noticed that some residents have moved out. I weep. Really.).

Anyway, in the last few weeks, here are some things that have been going on:

1. Saw the Raconteurs on Friday in Boston. I was gonna write a review, but March kinda stole my thunder. I had third row center seats for this show and it definitely rocked my socks off. Being that close to Jack White, a guitarist and songwriter I admire immensely, was quite the treat. I was also really impressed with what guitarist/singer Brendan Benson brought to the band and drummer Patrick Keeler was an absolute powerhouse. Bassist Jack Lawrence, who looks like he would be more comfortable in the Physics Club than on a rock stage, regrettably had his mix a little overpowered, but the show was still phenomenal. Their cover of Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" was one of many highlights. The show really made me appreciate the CD a lot more. You should check them out.
2. One of the things I neglected to mention in this post, was that when Xteen's car was wigging out, the odometer read that she had over 650,000 miles on it. Thankfully, this was corrected when the kid from Deliverence brain was replaced or we'd never be able to get rid of that piece of shit.
3. I really need to go on a diet, because, at the Raconteurs show, I bought a concert shirt (size Large). I get it home and put it on and my mid-section looks like a giant Vienna sausage. Which leads me to another thing:
4. Sizes. I have Large t-shirts that I swim in and Large t-shirts, like the Raconteurs shirt that fits like a girdle. Why is there such a discrepancy between one Large and another? I can almost understand it, because terms like "small", "extra large" are really subjective measurements, but I really shouldn't have two t-shirts, both the same "size", one deprives my entire abdomen of oxygen and blood, while the other one has enough room in it for both me and Gilbert Grape's mom. Then, I have fancy pants that are measured in inches instead of letters. I'll spare you the waist length, but I find that my inseam is usually 32. But I have 32s that fit just fine and I have 32s that drag so much on the ground, that I think that the Witch Doctor from Beetlejuice sprinkled some of that shrinking dust on my legs when I was sleeping.
5. Speaking of sizes, how come I can never find a frame the size I want? We bought a nice print and I also bought a concert poster, and you would think that they were made by Martians. No pre-made frame will fit (unless you want like 6 inches of space between the edges). I swear it's a scam with those Corners-type custom frame places. "Sure, I realize you only paid $10 for the print, but if you want to actually display it and not get it ruined, it will cost you roughly ten times that amount." They can go screw.
6. Hey, go see The Guardian. My brother-in-law did a ton of the 3D animation for the special effects in the flick. And considering it was a Kevin Costner/Ashton Kutcher movie, it was actually pretty good. Then again, I also cheered when my BIL's name scrolled on the credits, so what the fuck do I know?
7. Seeing his name on the credits really made me realize that I am not in the business of doing anything even remotely fulfilling and I'm really contemplating making a change. Ideally, I'd like to write for a living, but when I can't even come up with an idea for a fucking blog entry, I'm not sure how writing for my financial well-being will work out. But lately, I've taken a really big interest in brewing beer. Maybe it's because we did it a few weeks ago and it was a lot of fun, but the title "Dim, Brewmaster" has a nice ring to it. Then again, maybe it's because my current job is really dicking me over. Who knows...maybe, just maybe, you'll be sitting back in the warm summer sun, reach into a cooler, and pop open a nice cold bottle of Dim. I can dream.
8. House hunting sucks and I'll leave it at that. Other than to say looking at, and falling in love with, houses on-line is not a good idea. We saw an ad for one that we absolutely loved. Drove by it, and 15 feet to the left of the front door is an 18,000,000 foot high power line tower that heads a nice chain of humming carcinogens all through the back yard and beyond, as far as the eye can see. Hey, I love electricity, but I don't want to have any two-headed babies. Oh, and the photos of these houses are all frauds too. Airbrush jobs to the highest degree. It's like seeing a picture of Kate Beckinsale on-line and then driving by and it is actually Bea Arthur. Not cool.
9. Xteen and I went away for a mini-vacation for our anniversary last week and ended up buying more things for other people than we did for ourselves. In other words, we started Christmas shopping. And this is late for me. I'm already getting agita because there are less than triple-digit days left til Christmas and I'm not close to being done. But one of the things we did buy for ourselves, which still leaves a painful sting of buyers' remorse, was...
10. A wine-making kit. We did a brewery tour on our vacation and met up with some nice folks who brewed their own beer and made their own wine. And they somehow managed to convince us that this was a good idea for us, and our tiny apartment, to do. (We were buzzed). So, we went all the way into town and found this hole in the wall store that they recommended and waited for 45 minutes until the owner finished helping someone else with their recipe for some sort of moonshine (we were buzzed) and ended up walking out there with a wine-making kit. After, of course, sampling some homemade mead and ginger apricot liquour. We were buzzed, what can I say. We don't know the first thing about making wine and all I can do is picture Xteen and I stomping grapes in the bathtub like Lucy and Ethel, but who knows? Maybe you'll be in a fancy restaurant some day, enjoying a steak or some fish, and say to the waiter, "Please sir. Bring us a bottle of your finest Dim Chianti". Hey, I can dream.
11. I hate outlet stores. First of all, they are all named after some really narcissistic people: Liz Clairborne, Hugo Boss, J. Crew, Calvin Klein, Kenneth Cole, Anne Klein (Calvin's sis, no doubt), Ann Taylor, Office Max. And, I'm sorry, but the prices are really not all that great. Why would I pay $75 for jeans that are already faded and ripped? At an outlet store, no less! Xteen bought a cloth belt at one of these joints for $25. $25!!!! When I think of outlet stores, I think of places that sell you merchandise that was recovered off of the ocean floor, after their cargo ship sank. Sure, it's a little musty and everything is the color of seaweed, but the shirt is only $2.50! I sure as hell don't think of $125 crushed velvet blazers. Besides, I don't even know what size to get.

Well, that's it for now. If you have any ideas to help ol' Dim out, leave a message. If not, piss off. And check out the archives if you want. I used to write good.

- Dim.