I'm listening to "Generic Skaca," that ska compilation Tynan lent me. I like the Jive Step Bunch, Exceptions, Square Roots, Skanksters, Mephiskapheles, and Mudsharks songs on it. Ska's a sketchy genre - it's really easy to make ska that sounds like shit. Either that or there are a lot of rudeboys with bad taste. It's tough to tell.

I had a rather uneventful Monday. A Chinese midterm, a Chinese oral exam (arguably the most stressful thing I have to do at school), selling Workers Vanguard outside a Students for Choice meeting, and then an Asian Studies discussion group. Listening to Botch and Weezer on my headphones.

The weekend was pretty busy, though. First of all, on Wednesday we had a meeting at work, and then on Thursday I had a performance review and then a 5-hour shift. The review wasn't too bad. Paul (my manager) said I should tone down on the "anti-establishment" attitude a bit. The example he cited was an incident where I wrote "Rock'n'Roll High School" on the back of the pastry case in black marker. (He made me scrub it off.) And I guess it's not very good when customers say, "why the hell is this mug so expensive?" and my reply is, "What do you expect? It's Starbucks." Other complaints were mostly that I didn't know enough about the merchandise. But for the most part his grievances were minor, and I got a whole 13 cent raise. I'm gonna be a millionaire. I worked on Saturday and Sunday all day, too. It was busy and I was tired.

Other stuff. On Friday Tynan and I went to a party. Some friends he went to private school with. It was okay. Pretty boring. A girl that lived there, Monica, had a guitar. Tynan played Weezer and Botch and Weakerthans and Propagandhi, and we sang. I tried to play guitar but realized that I'd forgotten everything after not playing for two years. I can't even play Stairway to Heaven anymore. Sad indeed. So I played dissonant-sounding nothings. And the first three notes to Hurt by NIN, which I somehow remembered. And A chords and D chords and E chords and G chords. We got back around 2. We both had to get up pretty early on Saturday.

On Saturday night we went to see Junk Genius. An "anarchistic avant-jazz quartet from the Bay Area," according to the Georgia Straight. Pretty accurate. The opening band was local. They were called Almost Transparent Blue. Tynan said they were cool sometimes but sometimes they were trying too hard to be like Miles Davis. I enjoyed them... it was a sax player, a drummer, and a guitarist. The sax player and the guitarist had about six effects pedals each. The sax player did this thing with his sax where he'd record what he played, and loop it, and then play over top of it. The guitarist from Botch does that too, and I was impressed. Plus, he was Japanese and hot. After they played, we went over to talk to Alvin and Ryan, these two guys I knew from high school that were there. I was leaning up against the stage when someone came up behind me and wrapped their arms and legs around me. I thought it was Patrick or Clint or somebody. Tynan was laughing his head off. I looked up and it was a strangely familiar face. Then the person backed off and started apologizing. I turned around and it was the sax player. He thought I was his friend Kristen who was supposed to be in England. He felt really bad for molesting me, but I didn't care. I complimented him on his performance.

then Junk Genius came on. Ben Goldberg on clarinet, John Schott on guitar, Kenny Wollesen on drums, and Trevor Dunn of Mr. Bungle on bass. I wavered in between really liking them and not understanding what was going on. They were a lot like Ornette Coleman. Tynan said Trevor Dunn is a lot like Charlie Haden. And he has really small hands, and he looks super young. Like 25. (The All-Music Guide doesn't say how old he is.) The clarinetist, Ben Goldberg, could circular breathe. I'd never seen anyone do that before. It reminded me of Kenny G, that fucking bastard, playing a note for an entire hour just because he could. He even got in the Guiness Book of World Records. What a prick. The guitarist had this rad steel guitar that he played for a few songs. The drummer was the coolest, I think. He reminded me of the guitarist from Frank Black and the Catholics because he was wearing a similar outfit (black-rimmed glasses, a gaudy shirt, a suit, and never-brushed hair) and the movements he made were contorted and robotic. And he played drums like a robot too... he was so incredible. He kept knocking one of his cymbals off because it wasn't screwed on for some reason. I'm really glad we went. It was like, $15.

I read Toni Morrison's Beloved this week. I kept reading it before going to sleep and I'd end up crying into my pillow. Slavery is really fucked up. There's not really any way for me to articulate this properly.

I don't think there's much else. Did I mention that my family might be moving to New Westminster? We're going to check out the apartment on Sunday. I've grown up in this house. It'll be weird, but I'll be happy because we'll be closer to Vancouver.