when you walk through the garden

alright i'm back and i'm reinvigorated. you may notice that i've given up on using capital letters. i feel so free. i've also given up on using a wallet and i just carry around a wad of crisp hundreds and a state-issued identification card. and twelve credit cards. and my insurance card in case i get stabbed in the head in an unfamiliar city.

speaking of unfamiliar cities, i have a pending adventure in about three weeks. i'm really excited for it and you'll read about it after it happens.

today i got a haircut at the same place i wrote about a few weeks ago. outstanding haircut. that guy really knows his business, despite his eccentricities. when i showed up he was painting "haircuts $9.00" on the side of his building. when he finished he said "that's seven dollars. i'm painting nine on the building but it's only seven."

so, weekend. really good one. i've found that a really great weekend doesn't always translate into a really great blog. tales of misery and woe work better in this medium than a series of "you had to be there" moments. but we'll try it.

friday night i hung out with Emily and a couple of friends i've not seen in a while. i was in a rare mood. i was eager to throw down. it was a beautiful spring night in SLC and i wante to make the scene.

(note that SLC is capitalized above. proper names and acronyms will still be capitalized)

a few ideas were bandied about and we decided on dinner at Red Rock. i had a tasty sandwich.

then this happened




then we went to the Tavernacle (it's a play on words). this bar has a lot going for it. good location, non-smoking, rowdy crowds. the bar features "dueling pianos," but they take turns so a more apt name would be "alternating pianos." really fun place but i don't think you'd make a habit of going there. maybe you would if you were an alcoholic and lived nearby.

now we'll talk about drinking for a while. a had a couple swallows of champagne on New Year's Eve but i haven't had a drop since then. i wasn't some kind of crazy party man before, but i just wanted to examine my motivations a bit. like say, i'd go to dinner and just automatically order a beer, even if i didn't really want it. that's not a habit i want. i also wanted to prove that i could have fun without drinking, should i someday find myself in a circumstance where drinking is discouraged.

i went 77 days before finally breaking the streak on St. Patrick's day. i didn't want to be beholden to some streak anyway.

so yeah, Tavernacle. i drank Jameson's that night because that's what McNulty drinks on The Wire (and you thought i was done talking about The Wire!)

a few years ago i was with Emily and she ordered a Jameson's and i accidentally ordered something pink with a lime in it. i felt like a real tool.

this girl insisted on dancing on the pianos all night. the bouncers would drag her down and she'd act all indignant and give them the double bird, only to get right back up there. oh, by "dancing" i mean "bobbing up and down slightly"

then this clod got in on the action.

here's Mr. Afterthought Ponytail staring at my friend.

at one point something drew me outside...

mmmmmmmm.

anyway, fun night. one of the funnest. and the important thing is that i didn't call or text anyone. right...?

there's a lot more i could say but it just wouldn't convey anything. hey here's the thing about drunken stories: they suck. "i was already like, smashed, and then Ricky gave me a bottle of Marimbara and i swear i drank like half of it. i was all 'where's the mayor? get the mayor on the phone!' and then Ricky was all "har-ti-tar-ti-tar-ti-tar.'" i guess i just don't like glorified idiocy. my stories are good though, maybe i'll tell some more later. i think mine are more self-deprecating than glorifying.

oh! i almost forgot. somehow an empty shotglass made it's way into my pocket. it is now front and center in my vast paraphenelia/ephemera collection. that's how fun Friday night was.

Saturday i was going to go to a show but didn't make it. so instead we'll substitute this show that i went to last Wednesday. the band was called Say Hi, formerly knows as Say Hi to Your Mom. i'd never heard them before but Lee and Lisa convinced me to come along and i'm glad they did.

hey, sample a song why you don't? Say Hi - Let's Talk About Spaceships.

Northwestern Girls

the show was at Kilby Court which was nice because it allowed me to add to my collection of interesting bathroom pictures.


Sunday i slept too long. also Happy Easter. is there anything better than a spring night in the SL Valley? Besides an autumn night?

chop

While on my lunchbreak I caught my visage in the rear view mirror and noticed an unruly cowlick. I decided that now would be as good a time as any to get my hair shortened, and being that the sun was shining and the sky was clear I was in no hurry to return to work.

I drove around to a few of the more popular chain outlets, but the upcoming three day weekend had brought out the crowds. On my way to yet another clippery I passed an independent barber shop. It didn't have a pole, but it did have a large particle-board sign advertising a trim for five dollars less than I normally pay. Following my natural sense of adventure I pulled in to the pot-holed parking lot and went inside.

I expected to open the door and see an old man with a white coat and a dry voice. Instead there was a green-skinned black-eyed man sitting at a computer desk. The place was dark save for columns of light produced by harsh overheard fluorescents. Looked and smelled more like the waiting room of a sleazy auto-repair shop than a barber shop. The peculiar man gestured to what looked like a chair swiped from a 747 and told me he had to finish something up. He returned to his computer and clicked intermittently. An older bearded gentleman rose from a shadowy corner and eyed me suspiciously. Retreating to a back room. I sat down and found myself facing myself, reflected in a large gaudy mirror resting on a "natural" wooden table. My doppelganger was framed by Broadway showcards stuffed into the mirror's edges. The concrete walls were covered in pictures of wild animals. Coyotes, cougars, wolves. Stacks everywhere. VCRs, chairs, coats, rags. Throughout the duration of my time there I heard the "phone is off the hook" dialtone. Err-Err-Err-Err-Err-Err-Err.

I slyly turned to see what my "stylist" was working on. He was playing World of Warcraft. Playing World of Warcraft and drinking whisky. Jack Daniel's, straight from the bottle.

He finally finished what he was doing and mumbled to me "Sorry, was sending an e-mail to my ex-girlfriend. Where are my clippers..."

I smelled a pungent smoke about his person that may have explained his slow movements. The haircut was completed without conversation, which is the way I prefer it anyway.

Pretty good haircut though.