you’d better run

Monday, April 30, 2001
@ work | written: 1514 hrs

“You were my army and I would command, ‘Attack the Holy Land!'”
–Death Cab for Cutie, “Underwater!”
Friday. While answering an e-mail from Christian Chick Erin, a girl from [insert college administration department here (Financial Aid, Student Services, whatever)] came into the Mail Room and asked me again how to make two-sided copies from one-sided. She had short black hair with a bandana tied in, small plastic glasses… indie rock girl?

“Hey, you’ve got kind of an indie rock look going, huh?” I ask through the mailboxes behind my desk into the room next door containing the copiers.

“Uh, I don’t know,” she replied half-heartedly, not looking at me.

A professor in the room with her smiled at me through the mailbox holes as if to say, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Hmmm. Well, do all your guy friends have black hair, wear thick plastic glasses, and wear…”

“I don’t know any guys with black hair.”

“Okay, wait, do you hang out at Emo’s?” The true test.

“Yeah.” She knew she was caught. Guilty. The professor’s smile reached its peak intensity. Then I went out on break.


Fast forward a few hours to a coffeeshop in Round Rock. Erin had invited me to see some of her friends (schoolmates and fellow church members) play at amateur night. I walk over to some of the guys I know from the church and get a total cold shoulder. Nothing but snotty comments and ignored, that’s what I get. So I spend the night listening to high schoolers (and a few college students later in the evening) play covers of current Top 40 hits.

Three good points to the night:

1. Talking to Joe, a middle school friend of my brother’s, about what we want to be when we grow up and music. (At the end of the night, when Joe was leaving, he came up to me and said, “Good luck with your dreams.”)

2. Talking to Erin, trying express support in her quest to develop independently of her parents and the limits of Leander. I told her she was the most accepting person I had met through that church (this is true) and that I hoped she didn’t let her parents mold her into them before she got the chance to get from under their thumbs and develop her own personality and ideas. It was a good bitch session for her, I think.

3. Making fun of the crappy music the college guys were playing to serenade the girls on the sidewalk after the coffeeshop had closed while one of their closest friends stood nearby and listened. “Man, I’d really hoped going away to college would have introduced these people to better music,” I said. Nope. It was all Coldplay and Evan and Jaron and others that you can hear everyday on your local mix music station.

“Doin’ 60 in a 30/ Got your 45 stuck in my head…”
–The Deathray Davies, “Jack Never Crashes”
Saturday. Took my parents down to Waterloo Records so they and I could buy records for my new turntable. I picked up Belle & Sebastian’s If You’re Feeling Sinister. [Been ordering CDs and records like crazy recently, ever since my first paycheck from the new ACC job. So far I’ve received: A 45 of Death Cab for Cutie’s “Underwater!” b/w “The Army Corps of Architects” (an extra is waiting for me in Boston at Tracy’s–they’re limited editions, so I bought two); another DCFC 45; a Darla Records compilation CD (100 songs on 4 CDs for $16 off the site… what else? Oh, I don’t know… more stuff coming. I’ve also bought all kinds of stuff at Waterloo recently–last night I bought the new Silver Scooter album, Blue Law, and a Kind of Like Spitting album.]

Hung out with Brian who was only back in town for a few days before he headed back down to San Antonio to be with his mom who’s been ill recently. We stagnated at Ruta Maya for a while, then ate pizza at Frank & Angie’s (our waitress gave me a free slice since my second slice was late coming out of the kitchen–so Brian and I decided she was in love with me a la the fast food commercial), then back to Ruta Maya before I headed off to see the Actionslacks, Silver Scooter, and the Deathray Davies at Emo’s.

I don’t really care for going to shows alone, but sometimes it can’t be helped. I do think it’s easier to pay attention to the bands, though, when you’re alone. Also easier to get a chair and not stand the entire time. But it also means you’re stuck watching everyone else talk to their friends during the lull between bands. All the girls I’d planned to talk to left before I made it over to them–weird show, people left early, some came back… maybe curfews, I don’t know. Even saw a girl that an hour earlier Brian, David, and I had been frothing over at Ruta Maya, but she left after the first band. Two other girls left after the second band… just as I’d gotten up the courage to talk to the pair. Probably better this way.

Anyway, it was a damn good show. I really enjoyed it. Buy their albums!

Sunday. Hung out with Evan and Brian for a bit. Nothing hugely exciting… though they had both received e-mails from Jillian within the last couple of days and decided to share snippets with me. Anyway, she IMed me during my lunch break today so I got the better deal. I guess.

Now I’m at work and I can’t wait till I get home to see what’s come in the mail today. Less than two weeks till I head to Albany and Boston. It’ll be nice. Whoever (aside from Tracy, who’s a sure thing thankfully) decides to forfeit some of their time to hang out with me will have fun. Gonna be a good trip. As long as I don’t have to piss too often on the flights up and down to Newark from Austin (and vice versa).

Oh, today at work a professor left an excerpt of the play Biloxi Blues and I read through it, to whit:

EUGENE: I was determined to meet the perfect girl. I knew just what she would be like . . . She’s going to be pretty but not too beautiful. When they’re too beautiful, they love them first and you second . . . She’ll love to go to movies and read books and see plays and we’d never run out of conversation . . . She’s out there, I know it. Right now the girl I’m going to fall in love with is living in New York or Boston or Philadelphia–walking around the streets, not even knowing I’m alive. It’s crazy. (Lights up on U.S.O. DAISY dancing with soldier.)
. . .
EUGENE: I can’t believe I’m having a conversation like this in Biloxi, Mississippi.
DAISY: You don’t like Biloxi?
EUGENE: Oh, it’s not a bad town . . . It’s alright . . . it’s okay . . . I hate it!
DAISY: I’m not that fond of it myself. Actually I’m from Gulfport. We all are.
EUGENE: Gulfport? No kidding? I know a girl from Gulfport.

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