Goin' down to Hamtramck, gonna have myself a time...

11:04 PM, Sept 3, 2004
From my bedroom AT HOME

My mom recently joined a community called Freecycle, which is basically a local Internet group where you can post notices about things that you have and don't want. The first person to claim whatever it is that you post can come and get it for free. It's pretty cool, and one of the more constructive uses for the Net that I've seen.
On Monday, some guy who owns a Mexican restaurant used the site for an interesting type of advertising. He posts regularly for things like banged-up napkin dispensers, which people like.
Anyway, this guy posted a Freecycle 2-for-1 meal and margarita coupon. Mom printed it out and took us to the restaurant, and was then informed by the waitress that the coupon was only valid on Mondays. The guy had never said this. So Mom posted this fact on the same Freecycle list and told everyone not to go to this guy's restaurant.
This is a great example of the feedback loops so common on the Internet. Word-of-mouth advertising is flamed over the same channels it used to advertise itself. I've got to tell this to my Journalism prof.

Re-watched BTTF earlier tonight, with Brian. The problem with that movie is that whenever I watch it, it kind of dominates my mind for a few days. It's that kind of movie. Then read Nightspore's "That Stupid Fear Of Thunder" , which is slash and is fairly explicit (in fact, very explicit). But, you know, when you're time-traveling within the boundaries of your own family, a little technically impossible multigenerational incest is only to be expected. Just ask any late-era Robert Heinlein character.
An currently watching Willard on laptop. Blockbuster's didn't have it on VHS and Mom has no DVD player, but my laptop has DVD capabilities. The Amazing Crispin and his Educated Rodents. And rats tearing up TPS reports. And eating the tires of the DeLorean. I shouldn't be free-associating just before bedtime.
Also--Socrates is a white rat. He's "the smart one". White mice, as we know (according to Douglas Adams), are the smartest beings on the planet (other than dolphins?) and actually commissioned the Earth to be built. DISCUSS.
Actually, the movie reminded me that I need a pet. I was originally thinking of a cat, but a rat would probably work better. They're smaller and they can climb on you. In high school, the bio teacher had a pet rat named Tinkerbell who liked to climb on me.
But not as long as I'm at Calkins, unless I can find rat scuba gear.

Have created a list of things that I would like quite a lot, but for various reasons are currently impossible for me to get under my own power.

(Note: first two items deleted because of Kazaa. Kazaa rawks.)
3. For someone to write a BTTF RPS fanfic
4. For drworm and ghostgecko to finish the fanfics in progress they've got posted on their websites
5. For the cafeteria to stay open after 7 PM
6. To hear John Lennon singing "Smells Like Teen Spirit"
7. An accurate definition of the term "postmodern" that I can understand and relate to
8. Air conditioning in my dorm room
9. A larger CD carrier that still fits in my backpack
10. To find the moon for astronomy class. We're supposed to keep a moon journal, but ever since I've started keeping it, it's been hiding from me.
11. A copy of the OED
12. Enough time to sit down and finish the intro to the damn insurance thing so that I can send it to Mark and get my CHECK FOR $250
13. A circle of college friends that can talk about abstract philosophical theories and the most banal parts of their and other people's lives with equal alacracity
14. A faster Kazaa connection

I would eat my own head for several of these. I really would.

9:39 PM, Sept 4, 2004
From my bedroom again

The day started with a trip by bike to Barnes and Nobles. I really prefer Border's, but I had a $20 gift certificate to B&N. So I biked the two miles and got a copy of Webster's, which weighs about 3 pounds and has 315,000 definitions. Not sure how I transported it home, but I managed somehow.
We went to a street fair in Hamtramck. For those that aren't from around metro Detroit, Hamtramck is a city in Detroit--I mean, actually a self-contained city within the borders--that is traditionally famous for being Polish and is now famous for having a great punk scene.
It's a wonderful community. In most of Detroit, you see houses that are falling down, paint peeling like dandruff, overgrown yards--none of that in Hamtramck. Lots of little Polish stores and a few VFW hall-type bars. It's the kind of place your parents grew up in.
The street fair was great. One of the things that you miss in the suburbs is the different kinds of people, particularly in West Bloomfield, where it seems like everyone with so much as bad teeth is swept up off the streets. There were people with eyes missing, people with lumps where they shouldn't have lumps, people that were old or ugly or just very, very unusual. I loved it.
Brian, I think, had the best night. When we found him, he was grooving to a band called Lanternjack. (I had to stay with him after that so he wouldn't wander off, but I don't think that detracted any.) The lead singer, Johnny Flash, was skinny and shirtless and wearing a skullcap and eyeliner. He was wriggling around onstage, singing on his back like Iggy Pop and encouraging people to stuff dollar bills into his jeans. When he came down into the crowd, Brian tried to pull his skullcap off, so Johnny grabbed some of Brian's buttons. Brian went backstage afterwards and got his buttons back and they had a little musical bonding session. Janette, who was I think the band's full-time groupie, talked to me and told me about a movie she thought I should watch, called "Angel at my Table." She stood very close to me, which I thought was odd. Maybe she was a little bit drunk, I don't know.

Interestingly, my first reaction when I say Johnny Flash onstage was not awe at his punkness (that was my second reaction) or what I like to call "aesthetic appreciation". It was the urge to give Jay a sandwich, preferably something nourishing like ham and cheese, and watch him eat it. I have thought it over and decided that I do not have a fetish for feeding people, but merely a longing to nourish underfed rock stars. A Jewish mother groupie. I'd like to know what this says about my psyche.

9:36 PM, September 5, 2004
Again from my bedroom

Went down to Hamtramck again today. Dad called and chewed me out for not wanting to go to Maureen's pig roast. He seems to feel that I think of him as merely a wallet, which was not true; I just didn't want to go to the roast and would rather have gone to the Hamtramck street fair.
They had a pierogi-eating contest, sponsored by Dudek Foods. Brian entered and ate six in three minutes. The winner ate fourteen, but there was some controversy over the result because he had five pierogi in his mouth at the time the contest was called. Afterwards, Brian stuck a bunch of leftover pierogi in his pockets for later.
We also saw the Polish Muslims, who are essentially like Weird Al, but without an accordion and with more of am emphasis on dupas and galumpke. They're known for their songs "Sadie is a Polka Rocker" and "We're Not Going Bankrupt" (a parody of a Twisted Sister song written during the Hamtramck budget scare), as well as "Fight For Your Right To Polka" and "The Packzi Song" (don't know how to make the C with the cedilla, so just pronounce it "poonschkee" and you'll be fine).
I'm considering sending in a few parodies to them. Maybe "Take A Walk On The Polish Side"? "Hamtramck Calling"? "Smells Like Teen Polskas"?

Also, I feel kind of sick. Not sure why. Might be the pierogi. Might be the deep-fried Oreos.