The rocket's red glare

someone has been lighting off bottle rockets in the alley behind my apartment for the past hour or so. i can think of no reason why someone would be doing that on 30 september.

speaking of 30 september, i had thought that today was the first test for the business class that i'm currently taking. so i studied, i took the quizzes required for the class that are on the class's website, i read the oddest description of communism that i've ever read. i woke up late this morning, freaked out, and rushed to get to class.

that's right. no test today. instead, i found out that the per capita income of chad is around $150. that's honestly about it, since i was there for about ten minutes before he told us to leave and work on the quizzes (yes, the quizzes that i completed last night).

also speaking of 30 september, this is the last day of legal driving in the ol' 1990 pontiac bonneville. and no, i don't have a new car lined up. and yes, that concept is freaking me out. yes, a lot. and yes, i hate the concept of having to buy a new car and make payments forever.

what follows is a (non-exhaustive) list of why i hate used-car salespeople:

the stereotypical used-car salesperson does not exist, which would be funny, because tweed jackets crack me up.

used-car salespeople all use the same tricks to try and cover up flaws in the car. the radio is always on when you turn on the car for a test drive, for instance. why, you ask? to cover up any odd engine noises. there's a million things like that, and they all piss me off.

if a used-car salesperson is friendly and honestly seems to show concern for my needs, i start thinking, "wow, i should give this person credit for being such a great person. maybe i should give more thought to buying a car from him." but chances are that the salesperson doesn't care at all about me, and is just using the "friendly guy" technique to try to get a sale after picking up on my apparently superhuman sense of loyalty. this technique makes me feel dirty.

a lot of them are old and creepy. seriously.

they all say, "i'm just looking to get you into the car that's best for you," right before they completely ignore what i'm looking for in a car and show me one that costs an extra two thousand dollars.

weird smiles. sometimes genuine, but most of the time they're obviously forced. i hate it when people smile at me when they're trying to sell me something.

they all seem to get mad at me when i talk about how i hate dealing with people who work on commission. yes, that's pretty obvious, but considering how they're trying to get me to buy something, they should really mask this anger a little better.

there are no decent used-car lots anywhere near my apartment (i know this isn't about salespeople, but i want to mention it, and you can't stop me). in fact, the most promising lot is about forty minutes away.

once salespeople learn that i want to spend under $7000 for a car, but i don't want to buy a neon, they seem to get frustrated. look, fella...there are a billion cars out there. i don't want a goddamn neon. okay?

they don't seem to hear me when i say that i don't need any help, and that i'm just looking around right now, but thanks, and i'll find you if i need anything. they all stand right next to me, usually invading my personal space and making me feel awkward.

i just want to get the transportation issues dealt with so that i can go back to worrying about the things that i have to worry about on a daily basis.

Car song

things i learned today:

the guy who used to work at the music store near my workplace now does jasmin live promotions for the vespa dealership in town. it was odd, actually, to get there and run in to a familiar face right off the bat.

like sonya said, vespas are expensive. hell, the cheapest one is around $2500, and the most expensive costs as much as a decent used car. now i need to try to find a different scooter dealership. anonymous tipsters are welcome.

some car salesmen are nice. some are thinly-veiled versions of gil from the simpsons. some are creepy, standing off in the distance while you look at cars, staring at you the entire time.

i really need a day where i have nothing to do, so i can sleep for about eighteen hours and maybe, just maybe, allow myself to wake up on time for anything. work, school, anything.

i am so screwed financially once i buy a car. so very very screwed. looks like tomato soup for dinner until i finally get done with college. actually, i knew that before today.

an order of monks read this weblog. or not.

guys in those huge diesel pickup trucks break every rule when filling gas. they leave the engine running, they get back in the car, etc., and yet they don't catch on fire. i'm not sure which way to feel about this.

any car buying advice or stories of your own car purchase can be sent to the contact address on your left. and take out the "remove" part...that's why it says remove.

i'm serious about the stories and advice. this isn't just a ploy to try to get e-mail. i'm feeling a bit impotent about the entire situation, and a little knowledge might help out. or, depending on the adult cams story, amuse me thoroughly. either way, i win.

Juicy pear

several things:

i'd like a word with the folks that make jelly belly brand jelly beans. c'mon guys....pear (oh, i'm sorry...i mean "juicy pear")? three, count 'em, three different colored jelly beans that all taste like bubble gum (actually, i don't mind...i just get confused)? the grape ones that look like licorice ones unless you look at them under bright flourescent lights? and i'm not even going to go on at length about the buttered popcorn flavor, because it's too easy a target. don't worry, jelly belly-ers...i will not stop buying your product. the root beer and watermelon ones more than make up for the rest of the crap filling up the bag. thank you for your attention.

congratulations to maggie for providing the one hundredth comment on the movable type-powered weblog here at amusiac. i owe you work on getting your movable type-powered weblog up and running, which will be done at some point.

no gilmore girls for me this evening, as i worked until 11:30 pm. sadness, anger, melancholy...all these emotions are bottled up inside, threatening to explode and force me to cry on dave's shoulder, which will make him feel awkward and less manly. i'm going to have to have someone tape the show from now on, apparently, since i'm working evenings on tuesdays from now until the apocalypse.

the interpol show is tomorrow night, and i may or may not go, depending on a complete rundown of my financial situation, which should occur tomorrow afternoon sometime....right before i go to the vespa dealership. no, i'm not kidding. about the vespa dealership.

i'm getting tired of thinking. once i start thinking, every train of thought eventually comes down to finances, and thinking about finances is making me contemplate biting my nails again, or throw things and make dents in the wall like i have before. i mean, i've worried about finances before....i've worried a lot, which comes with the territory of making the amount of money that i currently make. but the amount of money that i'm having to make decisions over (paying off credit cards, the probable next car, etc.) is fairly mind-boggling to my nickel-tossing self.

i actually thought about stopping and buying some lottery tickets on the way home from work today. lottery tickets.

not a good sign.

Where your eyes don't go

i put all my mental eggs in one basket. i assumed that i would indeed get my parents' old car once my current one grows illegal tendrils (just ignore that--it's what came out, even though it makes no sense). sure, the people i told about this were told that i might get that car, or i might have to buy my own. but obviously, in the part of my mind that tries to make my life easier, i had convinced myself that the car was mine, that everything would work out simply.

and of course, i was wrong. i was informed this weekend that the car situation is "my problem." and now i need to figure out how, making the paltry sum of cash that i make at the camera store, i will be able to afford car payments and insurance. this is going to be interesting.

on the up side, since it's my problem, that means i can get whatever kind of car i feel like getting. that's both exciting and daunting.

one problem is that i have so little time off work in the next several weeks. i have so many things that i've been putting off forever, and now i get to throw on top of that the many trips to used-car lots.

part of me just wants to move to a shack in the middle of nowhere, just so i never have to deal with stuff like this anymore.

in other news, the radio show last night was great fun. big thumbs up to new Jasminelive albums by q and not u, interpol, ladytron, kind of like spitting, ivy, the reindeer section, and older songs by lullaby for the working class ("expand, contract") and east river pipe ("don't hurry").

Never sleeping

random other things i realized/found out in the past hour, thus keeping me from getting a full night's sleep tonight:

my morning jacket signed to dave matthews's label? the same label as gov't mule? david gray? that's just weird. but more power to them, as they will probably end up huge.

damien jurado is on secretly canadian records now? oh wait...i knew that one already. and yes, i'm pissed that the jurado/songs:ohia tour is avoiding st. louis.

i think i'm losing a bit of weight, as my pants all have a tendency to fall down if i'm not wearing a belt.

loyal readers will remember my post-death and dismemberment stress disorder. well, it continues. you see, the dismemberment plan is touring again this fall. and at first, i thought "wow! they're playing st. louis on the 24th of october! i'm so freaking happy!" and then i realized that i would be in minneapolis for my brother's wedding that weekend. then i hit things. apparently i'm destined never to see them play live.

many public thanks to sonya for the birthday mix tape. private thanks will be given in e-mail i've yet to write, and probably won't tonight.

i'm really tempted to enter into the remix project by the aforementioned d-plan. really really tempted--i think i could do a kick-ass remix of "the face of the earth." but i'm not sure i need another project right now. oh, and did anyone get the new d-plan mp3? the link i found didn't work.

am i the only one that gets creeped out upon seeing any surveillance camera footage on television? i can't explain it, but i guess i keep waiting for someone to get hurt or die or something.


i get home early from work today, thanks to my amazing skill at sweeping and mopping (seriously, i am both fast and thorough--i just wish that was a resume-builder, because i'm really good). i look forward to getting on my computer and sending e-mails, posting here, working on the new design, etc., etc. i have plans...big plans.

and the dsl isn't working. no comforting little flashing from the firewall icon in the lower right hand corner of my screen. nothing.

so i try to watch television...try to watch season finales that i have already seen. but i can't do it. yes, i manage to make some split pea soup for dinner (from a can--don't start thinking that i have cooking skills) and eat it. but i still hop over to the computer every five minutes to see if i can connect, and grow more and more despondent as i continue to be unable.

needing to break out of this horrible cycle, i go to the grocery store. mmm...honey nut cheerios. macaroni and cheese on sale! further breaking down of my fairly healthy diet with a purchase of vanilla custard. and on and on and on. i get back home, watch some syndicated television (the entire cast of mash, including colonel potter, dying their hair red? crazy doctors...). and then back to the computer.

and it's up! it's working! praise be to whoever flipped the proper switch or hit the proper key at the dslam!

and then i play games for the next three hours.

i really need a personal assistant. either to poke and prod me until i get working on stuff that i want and need to do...or to do it for me. applications can be sent to the e-mail address on your left.

oh well. maybe tomorrow.