Tell me how it is
tell me how it is
tell me how it is

I'm the least productive member of society right now! Well, all of today really! I've been staring at a screen doing nothing but bloggin' and bloggin' and readin' funny sites and bloggin' lol lol that's what I'm doin'. Hmm, maybe I could have updated Bare Bones? Nope, bloggin' more important. Maybe I coulda done some work on my 10 page paper tomorrow. Nope, bloggin'. I could have edited some articles people subm-BLOGGIN'. Sometimes I wish I had ovgloves grafted onto my hands so I could open all of the ovens.

Remember when Dr. George Handley said all of the best things?

The Transpo Symposium is online now. Rejoice.

Oh World, Dear World, Grant Me This One Wish

Let me somehow fast-track to having a 4.0 GPA and a BA in Comp. Lit. with working knowledge of French, Russian, Urdu, and Portuguese. And then let me fast-track past my MA and PhD and then just give me a bunch of money so I can start a magazine that is like n+1 but WAY WAY better, something that is relevant and not clunky and one that has nothing to do with Choire Sicha or that whole young New York brigade, the ones who accept my work and then reject it and accept it and then reject it, it tugs on my heart strings to say I have a piece published three times over and then have nothing, you know it does, and please have the internet stop writing things to just fill space, maybe that's what my magazine will be about, it will be about how sometimes we

need







space











to function because most stuff just gets jammed together, this is why people like proper punctuation. This is why proper grammar is necessary to communicate effectively and without confusion. This is the difference between "Translate, and analyze the underlined words" and "Translate and analyze the underlined words". Because, sometimes, not knowing the difference makes you fail.

Anyways, I'm bored of college. I like learning but I don't like to choose between distractions (learning is MOST DEFINITELY a distraction). I like to just open up my pupils, my pores, my ears, and let it all flow into me. Sing into my mouth.

Something written in ink on a shaky knee in a crowded room

I wish they could see
the colors my insides turn
when I hear their songs.



That's a haiku. Complete with a cutting word. You should be proud.

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.

Romans 12:15

I haven't been this emotionally raw in a long time. When religion and teaching actually combine, it's a really really really great thing.

My Feet Are Soaked, But My Cuffs Are Bone Dry!

First day of classes and I'm two hours into my languages. I think I just failed a French aptitude test and stupidly said, "English is a romantic language!!!" in my Latin class. So that whole end of the spectrum is going great. But you know what? I woke up at 7 AM this morning. And I went to work and all of my classes and I'm co-writing an article for the Political Review and I may have found departmental sponsorship for the magazine and we're having a party this weekend and, well, you know. Regardless of how hard this semester will be, I just feel like Milhouse when he tight-rolls his pants.

I can't get over how much I love this song. I'm leaving town soon enough and then school starts on Monday and that's weird right? How will this semester go? Pretty well, right? I'm going to get smart and yell at people. That's my plan. Should be fun right?

If You Honesty Wanted To Know How I Felt About the Prop 8 Repeal/California Mormons In General: Here You Go

Caitlin #####: RIP Democracy.
Thursday at 2:44pm

Philip #####: seriously
Thursday at 2:50pm

Ryan #####: democracy is alive and kicking. Amendments like this get overturned often if the people of America voted that our church shouldn't get to practice without tax exemption anymore the courts would overturn it based on the constitution. Our government has never been a pure democracy...
Thursday at 3:04pm

Caitlin #####: One biased man overturning 7 million California voters? Not constitutional or democratic.
Thursday at 3:23pm 4 people like this

Alex Christman: ‎7 million California voters were wrong. We're a republic for a reason. We employ others to represent our better interests, and that includes laws that were unconstitutional in the first place. Don't worry though. This is going to be nail and tooth for the next ten years.
Thursday at 3:46pm 1 person likes this

Isaac #####: ‎"7 million California voters were wrong" = democracy is wrong? "We employ others to represent our better interests" = a central planning committee? Do you really think that?
Thursday at 8:14pm

Chris #####: @Alex -- If 7 million California voters were wrong, why can't one man be wrong? Don't assume the logic you use doesn't apply to yourself. Second, we didn't "employ" or elect the federal judge to his position. A former president did. Third, Prop 8 won't be an ongoing issue for ten years. It'll get to the Supreme Court by then (after reaching the 9th Circuit). And since the Supreme Court overturned 19 of the 22 cases it arbitrated from that particular court last year alone, it's a good bet that Prop 8 will be reversed again as well. Once the Supreme Court defines marriage, it'll apply to the entire US and won't be able to be reversed ever again. Just stating the facts.
Thursday at 9:36pm 2 people like this

Alex Christman: We DO employ others, actually, to represent our better decisions. And it's probably a pretty good idea we don't elect judges because, as I said, they're there to represent our better interests as a country that's promised equal rights to all of its citizens. They aren't there to bend to the whims of the people. If that was the case then the 14th Amendment wouldn't have been passed. And, regardless of whether or not the Supreme Court gets involved (which I don't think is necessarily a given considering this is an issue of states' rights and not federal law; something that's been stated time and time again), it doesn't mean that this will instantly not be an issue. Look at Roe vs. Wade. And as for whether or not my logic applies to myself, well, it does. I am an idiot. Like you. And everybody else in this country. That's why I'm not a judge. Or a statesman. That's why I don't make decisions regarding the welfare of the country. I simply choose the people who make the decisions. Thanks for reminding me of exactly what I was saying!
23 hours ago 2 people like this (including me!)

Alex Christman: And by employ, I mean it both in the sense that their salaries are paid for by our taxes and that we employ them, as in "use them", to represent our better interests and make the decisions that we as a country are so prone to make incorrectly. Guess what! It's this distance between the general populace of the country and the lofty heights of government that has made our country relatively stable, wealthy, and renowned for its high standard of living. Because it prevents the voting block from throwing around narrow-minded and capricious decisions that, GASP, affect people other than the majority! Imagine that.
23 hours ago 1 person likes this

Chris #####: Well I prefer not to take such a cynical perspective in regards to Americans' ability to make good decisions. My theory is as follows: while it's very easy for the individual to make a bad decision, it's less likely for 7 million to arrive at the same bad decision. Moreover, I understand more than you probably expect a judge's role in government (my dad was elected by the governor to serve as a judge on the California court of appeals). But I can't help but think that Judge Walker was making a biased decision given that he's an openly gay libertarian. If you haven't all ready, read Judge Walker's decision because it's very hateful and emotional and lacking in logical analysis. As far as the involvement of the Supreme Court is concerned, it will most definitely get involved assuming that another ongoing court dispute in Massachusetts doesn't beat California to the punch. While I understand the argument that this is a state's rights issue, Judge Walker is a FEDERAL judge. Remember, watch out for making arguments that apply to yourself! You can't say a ruling is acceptable in one federal court but not in another. Finally, as for your majority argument, read Federalist Papers 10 and 51. The contents of each are too lengthy to discuss here but they show how democracy serves the minority as well. On a final note, don't "like" your own comments. It's tacky. :)
22 hours ago

Alex Christman: Thanks Chris! And by the by, it doesn't matter what perspective you take on America's ability to make decisions: this is how our government is set up. Just because 7 million people believe one thing, does not mean that it has to be law. If you'd like for it to be a law, then go ahead and elect the people who will serve in the Senate and House of Representatives and have them propose the law and then see if it passes both the Senate and the House and doesn't get vetoed by the President and then if it does, see if it doesn't get voted on once again with a majority ruling in your favor and then see if it doesn't get taken to the Supreme Court to see if its legal, and if all of those things happen in your favor Chris, then you can go ahead and herald the way that our government sided with your 7 million voters. In the meantime, let the courts work they way they work and realize that this is HOW OUR GOVERNMENT WAS SET UP.

And thanks for taking me to the Federalist Papers. See, because the Federalist Papers were appeals to get people to follow the exact process of government that you now think isn't working in your favor. And as for 7 million people making a bad decision: see Germany 1932. No, you're right. A large voting block couldn't possibly make a bad decision.
22 hours ago 1 person likes this

Alex Christman: AND, LOL, THE FRAMERS OF THE CONSTITUTION DIDN'T CARE ABOUT YOUR PRIM-ROSE PERSPECTIVE OF THE DECISION MAKING ABILITIES OF THE GENERAL POPULACE EITHER BECAUSE, LOL AGAIN, THAT'S EXACTLY WHY THEY MADE OUR COUNTRY A CONSTITUTIONAL REPUBLIC. LOL. LOL.

I hope you went to private school because if this is what the public schools of this country are churning out, it's a VERY CONVINCING argument that our average, run-of-the-mill, Joe 12-pack citizens don't need to have their finger on the "Constitutional or Not" button.
21 hours ago

Alex Christman: Late addendum: My bad, 2/3rds of the house if president vetoes. Feel free to substitute Governor for President where necessary for state government. Writing things on no sleep is harrrrrrrd. But I think this is important information for everyone to know when it comes down to how a law is made! That way you understand the role that courts and the people of a state play in the making of state legislature! Then you can understand exactly how mad you should be (see: not very) about the completely fair and reasonable ruling on Proposition 8! See? We learn things every day!
16 hours ago

Brad #####: Alex, i really like that your profile pic is of whoopie - because when i read your comments, i feel like i am at home on my couch watching the View and laughing out loud.

Keep in mind Alex, that Cait and Chris (and myself) are from a state where electing representatives to actually represent us as a majority and thus make decisions is impossible. It appears you come from Kentucky - if I came from Kentucky, I likely wouldnt be complaining - the representatives that I think best represent me would in fact be in power (being a conservative Republican). But, put yourself in our shoes - in a state where Republican representatives make up a very low percentage of the representatives relative to other states, we put together an incredible campaign worth millions of dollars to pass a referendum that wouldn't be possible if we went through the representatives you spoke of earlier. Our referendum passed. Then, one man strikes it down. Pardon us for feeling some shock and awe. Its true that if the people pass a referendum that is inconsistent with the existing state or national constitution, then it is the judge's role to overturn it. However, I am not convinced, from Vaughn Walker's statement, that Proposition 8 is inconsistent with the 14th amendment.

And let's play nice - that public-private school comment was pretty out of line.

15 hours ago 2 people like this

Chris #####: We could honestly go back and forth Alex, but I have little tolerance for those who make personal attacks in an effort to land credence to their argument. I understand the role of government and its inner workings so there's little need to explain it to me. I, along with many other conservatives, are simply tired of government believing that the people work for them rather than the other way around. Fortunately, it's not a government we have to live with and come November I'm optimistic that the political pendulum will swing closer to the middle. Btw, I go to UCLA -- a public institution -- and I'm proud of it.
13 hours ago 1 person likes this

Alex Christman: @ Chris: Consider it tit-for-tat for your calling me tacky.

@Brad: Well-mannered and I can see where you're coming from because you chose to articulate your opinion (and call it opinion) well.

@All of you butt-hurt Californian Republicans: We obviously have radically different views of whether or not the proposition was legally right, what the Church's role should have been in the whole ordeal, and whether or not the ruling on the proposition was in good judgement. But, my only thought here has been to let you all know that we shouldn't have any differing opinions or perspectives on exactly what has happened here as far as how the legislative process has worked. Get butt-hurt because gays can get married. A lot of people will. I won't. But you probably all are. But don't get angry about the legal system. That will get you nowhere but butt-hurt. If you want to change things, go ahead and get involved (again gosh-darnit!) with the legislative process! Exercise your rights (again gosh-dangit!)

And also realize that no matter what, we are all white, priveleged, well-educated, and moderately wealthy members of a predominately homogenized religious institution. We probably don't have much experience with things outside of our own socio-economic class/race/creed/sexual preference/et al. And our views are always going to be pretty insulated! Just because the status quo is changing doesn't mean the world is falling down my dear Chicken Littles. Anyways, I'm going to go yell at some Jason Mraz fans on myspace. l8er h8ers.
33 minutes ago

Alex Christman: Yarrr. Privileged* I'm omitting myself from the "well-educated" category LOL. #self-deprecation

21 minutes ago

Chris #####: Read Edmund Burke's Reflections on the Revolution in France. Broaden your horizons. :)
16 minutes ago

Alex Christman: oLd WhIgS rEpReSeNt Y'aLl!

I would have thought you'd be a bigger fan of "Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discontents". Maybe you should read that. Burke is great if you're a super big fan of Russell Kirk which, I'm assuming you are?
7 minutes ago

Chris #####: Forgive me for being so responsive to your argumentation. You must realize that I travel the world debating people (literally, England, France, Spain, Italy, you name it). I spend most of my time reading history books so that I may better serve others in the future. If you're ever in need of a good book with exceptional analysis and insight, I would be more than willing to indulge your request.
5 minutes ago

Alex Christman: Dude, do you have a business card that you could send me? I'd like to frame it. I'll put a placard beneath the frame that reads: "I Have Seen The Glory And It Was Bright". Something like that.
2 minutes ago

Alex Christman: You should copyright your name.
about a minute ago

Alex Christman: I'm thinking about comissioning a painting of you for my study. I'll need a period of time when you'd be willing to stand very still whilst holding a skull in front of a bay window with a view of a large swath of water containing a battle ship. When are you available? I'll grovel to your secretaries.
a few seconds ago

EDIT:

Chris #####: Reflections is I think more relevant to this debate, but I'm impressed. And yes, I am a big fan of Russell Kirk. I feel as though Republicans have veered away from their base into a neoconservatist realm and need to once again look back to their roots...namely that Republicans love change so as long as it doesn't happen so fast as to cause the crumbling of a nation's critical foundations.
32 minutes ago

Alex Christman So you're saying that you would favor laws granting marriage for gays in the future?
14 minutes ago

Brad #####: did you seriously use the term "butt-hurt californians" in a thread about prop8?
10 minutes ago You like this

Chris #####: I would be and am for the equality of people of any race, ethnicity or sexual orientation. That means I hope for a future in which gays are granted EVERY right that straight men and women are entitled to in marriage. As for marriage, I side with Obama...that it is between a man and a woman.
7 minutes ago

Alex Christman: Cool story bro. Welp, you've got me sold on the party of inclusion! #my head just exploded
2 seconds ago

The Next Time I Get to Vote for ANYTHING

I think I'm going to vote for "The guy who does that stupid bass noise in vocal ensembles". You know the guy. The one who's always like, "Bum da bum da bum da bum dubbadub". He sounds ridiculous on his own. In fact, vocal ensembles, a capella groups are just downright unnecessary and stupid.

So. In order to underscore my total apathy and frustration over the insurmountable pile of shit that I can not understand in politics and the world in general, I am voting for the bass line guy in an a capella group.

Provo in the Summer

Provo in the summer is like pinata-filled culture crashes, slamming into the desert sky and feeding you frybread.

During the fall and winter, I have a weird obsession/hatred with/of Provo. It's beautiful and cold and intriguing and lovely and it's weird and people suck, BYU is a tumor on the city, the mountains hold me as I sleep, I love it and I hate it and whatever whatever amen.

But during the summer. This place rolls its sleeves up and gets to work on livin. Hispanic clubs, mercados, navajo tacos, hoop dancing, heat, sweat, history, culture, community, free water, people sitting on patios and street curbs spitting in the air and wondering where they are, what they want to do, why they don't care that they aren't moving. You wake up in the morning and the pale blue sky makes you young again.

This place opens like a lotus flower. I had no clue what this place was until I actually lived in it, truly lived in it, didn't just go to school. This place is beautiful and lovely.

Rave over.

Up and Coming

So over at the other blog, http://barebonespresents.blogspot.com, we have a preview of what kind of content will be in the magazine when it eventually comes out. So stroll on over there and take a peek if you're feeling peekish and join the funtimes!

Or don't. See if I ever ever talk to you again ever.

I work in a basement full of natural light and florescent flickering. I listen to music and sit in a room made of glass and wood. The people who work behind this room don't think I'm an actual employee; they know I'm a simple step up from an intern. A temp-worker. I am a transient. This is not my real home. I haven't earned it. So when I try and be nice or helpful or familiar with them, they wonder who this guy with the stupid mustache is and why he's talking to them and why doesn't he have access to most of the doors here?

I have a song stuck in my head that I sing a lot.
not a girl in this city reminds me of you not a girl in this city reminds me of you not a girl in this city reminds me

Life is a loud series of overtones. Loud and blank-faced and I'm stared down, into my bed, every day every night every time I get the courage to get up go out and experience the air and dust on my face and neck. So much to say, so much to squeeze out of my swan-neck but all I do is moan in my sleep for the way this world spins. Like a tilt-a-whirl with a broken door. I always put my bed against the wall, that way I decrease my chances of falling out every night.

Warm summer nights: jazz in the air, the windows open, and the town rolls in lazily. This desert town isn't so bad in the summer. I walk out to a baseball field once the sun goes down and enjoy the dome of the sky and the sticky grass on the backs of my legs. Sometimes I get bored of my room but I certainly never get bored of being on my own. And I'll never get bored of dreaming.

For the Fourth of July, Eliza gave me a 25 lb. box of peanuts. I can't think of a better way to celebrate America's birthday than drinkin' a faygo tallboy and mealin' on some peanuts. Here's to you Abe.

i love bloggin

lol

I have a feeling I'm going to get fired

Probably.

In Which I Consider the Whole Act of Being

There is a natural sound that wild things make when they're bound.
It rumbles in the ground, gurrah gurrah we all fall down.

1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 6

I'm making memories out of things that never happened. My hands and mind are on fire with the infinite resignation of possibility. At the end of the day, I guess I like thinking about things more than I actually like doing them. Alors, ceci est la mort comme la vie.

Austin is in love.

In a good way. Loved this post and had to link because, well, it's tough to think clearly when you're inebriated with the sweet taste of youthful affection, let alone write clearly. Well done, bravo, etc.

And while we're on the subject of things that friends are making that are awesome:



More to come later, plus magazine updates as they come.

love love love

Important Thoughts Followed by Less Important Thoughts

I will never date a girl who willingly accepts the idea that The Patriarchy has made society or her gender do anything.

I will never be a person who attributes my personality, problems, or aspirations to any entity (be it Society, Class, or Marketing) outside of myself.


Less important thoughts:

Working on getting all of the pieces for the magazine together, plus trying to find collaborators for the online content. Also trying to find a good designer who believes in the project who wants to share power and responsibility. Or who just wants to make good stuff. In a month or two, should have consistently appearing online content along with a pretty good magazine in print. After that, we apply for ORCA grants, club status, and indoctrinate anyone and everyone we can with ART and AWESOME CULTURE.

Bare Bones

So, I'm starting a magazine. Isn't now the time? If not now, then when?

We go to print hopefully before August.

For more information on what/when/who/how/Gucci Mane, visit Bare Bones Magazine's Official Blogspot!!

Or just join the facebook group. So New Media. So web2k10. So ridiculous.

I'm reading White Noise by DeLillo right now. It's giving me a real bad case of the "I'm waiting for something but nothing ever comes"es right now. It makes me want to eat a lot of fried chicken. It makes me hungry, voraciously hungry, the way only a novel about ennui and death can.

I wish I had a car here in Provo. If I did, I would drive and drive and drive. I don't though, so I walk and walk and walk. I wonder what other people think about when they walk. I wonder if they whistle or sing like I do a lot of times while I walk. I can't help not singing or whistling. I wonder if they think that it's weird that I'm whistling or singing. I wonder if the ground can hear me singing and whistling.

Sometimes I pass somebody and am suddenly embarrassed and worried that I'd been saying my thoughts out loud as I walked. Not that I typically think anything vulgar or embarrassing. In fact, I think a lot of very boring, self-centered things. But isn't that more embarrassing than, say, thinking about death or blowing things up or sex?

If I were to walk past somebody who was saying all of their thoughts out loud and they were saying, "I don't think I like the way I walk, I think it looks like a lumberjack on steroids. Man it's cold out today, why didn't I bring a jacket? Do I have bad circulation? How long of a walk is it up a mountain? Could I do that?"
instead of "I would love to kill that guy. And seduce that old lady. And knock over that newspaper dispenser. And jump out of a window."

Our ordinary thoughts are embarrassingly devoid of beauty, imagination, or outwardness. They sound just like a footstep on concrete. Dull. Monotonous. Irritating.

Herman Melville. More like Herman Awesomeville.

"Time was her labyrinth, in which Hunilla was entirely lost... Humanity, thou strong thing, I worship thee, not in the laureled victor, but in this vanquished one."

-The Encantadas

Seriously? Herman Melville? Who would have known you would be actually really awesome to read. Sometimes your diction made my eyes bleed, but all of those years of bromidic vocabulary exercises in our beloved public school system actually paid off. This dude. Right here. A genius.

Also of note: Blogspot does not recognize Encatadas as a word. The first suggestion of change is "enchiladas". I chuckle, I chuckle.

Provolone

Here I am, back in the 801. It's weird being back, or at least being in one solid place after weeks of turbulent and frantic travel. I look forward, in part, to a sweet and quiet existence. I plan on living in the library and my apartment, like I was selling horchata and loose meat tacos from the back of a truck.

Call me if you want to hang outski. I'll be listen to a lot of Big Star and Best Coast.

Home Is Where I'm Alone With You

Recently my mind has been in a fury and fit over all these beginnings and endings. Maybe I'll figure it all out on the road. I mean, I totally plan on "finding myself" out there, knowhattamean? It's going to be great when I finally "find myself" because a big siren will go off and there will be fireworks and my hands will catch on fire and I'll cry and I'll cry and I'll cry with hope and exhaltation and my parents will be there, it'll be in Wyoming I'm sure of it, they'll be there on the side of the road clapping and their hands will be on fire too and every body will be so happy; it'll be wonderful you know?

The road. The ultimate explanation. The terrible home for boys with no ambition. The excuse. The reason. I'm out there to find a whole lot more than my way home, especially when this trip is so very much about finding a home. We'll see where I end up at the end of all of this. Probably Provo.

I just watched the last year of my life on film. Well, to be honest, it was Louis' life. But we're all in there, all of us, wrapped up in the hours of film. It was pretty incredible to see the whole thing, finally, and I will say that it did not disappoint. It was strange to see the other side of things. The way things looked not from these two eyes. Barry, you've got talent. It was a visceral symphony.

In Which No Significant Points Are Made

I think I'm most suited for a life of quiet contemplation. Lately, I've just been reading and watching movies. I went out today for some food and saw a couple of people I knew. We talked for short intervals. We "caught up" or whatever. And I took an interest in their lives. I thought about them on the drive home. I wondered about them. I ate dinner and thought about my books and my movies. About how life swirls around them. About the talented folks I know and love. I thought about all of this and then realized that my mind is racing, raving, monologuing, dialoguing, it's turned on and off all day long. I'm getting these furrows in my brow because my face is constantly stuck in a concentrated stare.

I'm no good around social situations. I like to get together with a few people who won't mind if I yell "A MILLI A MILLI, AMEN" out of the top of a convertible in response to "WHEReS THE BIRTH CERTIFICATE". And then won't mind, too, if I just kind of stare off into space for awhile thinking about things, or no-things, or every-things. People who I can just kind of wander about in the daze that I'm usually in. It's true: I'm almost always in a daze. Because, generally, I'm just lost in contemplation about things that ordinarily don't matter. Like Cory Haim's death, or a class I want to teach, or a story I want to write.

Hmmm... I just kind of got lost in what I was going to say in this blawg post.

Thoughts 4daze.

Charles Reznikoff

This guy is my jam:

Of Course We Must Die

Of course we must die
How else will the World be rid of
The old telephone numbers
We cannot forget
The numbers it would be foolish
Utterly useless
To call


16

The fingers of your thoughts
are moulding your face ceaselessly.
The wavelets of your thoughts
are washing your face
beautiful.

In Which I Understand Trail Mix

I’ve been having a pretty existential week and a half, and needless to say I’ve been thinking about myself a lot. This is normal in my life. I've been thinking about what my life is doing.

I’m at work today, and because I forgot my chips and salsa, I had to buy from the break room vending machine. Naturally, I am seriously pissed off at forgetting my lunch/only meal for the day at home. I figured I would buy a hot pocket and that’d be that. However, the vending machine was ALSO out of hot pockets. What an exasperating week of ups and downs! I probably thought. Actually, I probably thought, “Well, good, now I don’t have to eat a hot pocket.” But you catch my drift. So I decided on a healthy alternative: trail mix. Tropical trail mix. I’ve always loved nuts. I’ve always loved dried fruit. However, one thing that has plagued my eating of all things assorted and mixed is my preferential treatment. Everything in my life has this sort of strange value system. If I eat a package of Skittles, I eat all of the oranges first, then the grapes, then the yellows, then the greens, then the reds. If I eat chex mix, my hand naturally searches for those delicious little rye chips. A box of chocolates will soon be a box of chocolates sans all caramel and pecan clusters. I just don’t do well, normally, with closing my eyes, closing my fist, and sticking a big handful of god knows what into my mouth. I like the taste of the orange skittle; not the taste of the orange skittle plus grape. Grape-orange? Incomprehensible.

Needless to say, I don’t mix too much. Sometimes, time tested traditions work: Cherry-Coke, Diet-Coke and rootbeer, bread and A1, smashed up starbursts. You know, the staples. The things that I know work.

But there’s something wrong with this world view, food and life included. It’s safe. It’s comfortable. It’s bad. It’s picky. It’s limited. I opened that package of tropical trail mix, knowing that I liked the banana chips and the cashews. I had no clue what those red cubes were, or those fragmented nuts. It all looked pretty gross, you know? Then I did something bold. I just dumped a handful in my mouth. Straight up and in. What ensued was a gooey, peanut-buttery orgy, directly in my tastebuds. Did it taste better than I could imagine? No. But it was new and good and now I know that if I ever want trail mix, I can just dump it into my mouth. Because it’s not about what you like in the mix; it’s about what’s in the mix.

You know where I’m going with this. It’s like life. I can’t be picky, or choosy. I can’t be selective. I’ve got to say yes yes yes yes to anything and everything. Do I want to go on a roadtrip for 100 dollars this summer? Yes. Do I want to continue to work at my job? Yes. Do I want to go home and visit and enjoy and love my family? Yes. Do I want to karaoke on the fourth of july? Yes. Do I want to make a movie? Yes. Do I want to pay rent, pay taxes, deal with my family not understanding my choices, finish my paper, and worry about my car breaking down? Yes.

Life is tropical trail mix y’all. Because it’s not just about picking out the pleasing banana chips or cashews. It’s about shoving the whole thing in your mouth and seeing how it tastes (that’s definitely what she said). It’s about understanding that if there’s something that doesn’t taste right in the mix, it’s ok. It only makes the sweet thangs taste sweeter.

Deep thoughts about trail mix man.

das Unzerstörbare.

The only thing that can make me feel ANY consolation about failing two out of the three classes that I'm taking in my major this semester: Larry Peer telling me that "Sometimes men of genius make mistakes." And while he's telling me it doesn't matter that I've failed, he's got his mirrored sunglasses on. He's in his office, sitting at his desk. With mirrored sunglasses on.

If that guy ever needed a kidney transplant or a lung or something, I'd be first in line to cough it up.

German is a tough language. It is tough for a lot of reasons, including the reason that it's German. This is why I hate only knowing like 20 words of vocabulary in a few languages because I can kind of sketch my way through a passage and I'm like, "I understand!" and then I'm like, "WHAT IS THIS DEMONIC LANGUAGE AND HOW DO PEOPLE SPEAK IT?"

That being said, Kafka in German is waaaay better than Kafka in translation. The end.

My eyes are weary, and every face I see simply falls into familiarity. I need sleep I think! OK!

There is no need for you to leave the house. Stay at your table and listen. Don't even listen, just wait. Don't even wait, be completely quiet and alone. The world will offer itself to you to be unmasked; it can't do otherwise; in raptures it will writhe before you.
-Franz Kafka, Blue Octavo Notebooks, pg. 54

I seek action, delight, fireworks, destruction, rebirth, water sliding along shorelines, washed away footprints, the total combination of everything and nothing at once. It is for this reason that I travel.

The disparity between my desires and actions and Kafka's simple advice is non-existent. We all move in body, a physical action that is wholly unavoidable. But be quiet in your mind. Rest. Sit at your mind table. Consider the tabletop. Examine the forks, the newspaper, the burn mark from the votive candle. Sit quietly, silently, alone in your mind and you'll find the world opening in front of you like a firework in slow motion. A burning lily. A blazing orgasm of reverse attenuation.

The One In Which I Think About My Summer

It's tough when you just want to tell your parents that you've prayed about something and know what you should do. When you just want to say, "This feels right." and that's all the explanation needed.

Oh well. I'm a grown-ass man and I'll do what needs to be done, because this summer needs to happen like this.

Update to all:

859: April-May
801: June-July
859: July-August

Write it down on your calenders.

Like Tim Rutili said:

hands fit together like medicine
butterfly itch on a bottle rocket tail everything is bleeding
shake the glass out of your hair
spell your name in broken teeth

dream for me dreamless

CLICK THE PICTURE. DOWNLOAD THE MUSIC

Dey Know It's Summertime

1. Maybe So, Maybe No - Mayer Hawthorn
2. Thousand Crazy Nights - Music Go Music
3. Cut Your Hair - Pavement
4. Dey Know It's Summertime - Shalonda
5. Mariniere - Mama Rosin
6. Futures & Folly - Blitzen Trapper
7. Kid - Brazos
8. Phantom Limb - The Shins
9. Dull Life - The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
10. The Girl - Dr. Dog
11. I Wanna Hold Your Hand - Bluegrass Beatles
12. Exhibit C - Jay Electronica
13. How I Got Over - The Roots
14. They Don't Want - Electric Wire Hustle
15. Just Like Heaven - Dinosaur Jr.
16. Let My Burden Be - Golden Shoulders
17. Pool Hall Richard - The Faces
18. Supernatural Superserious - R.E.M.
19. Baby C'mon - Stephen Malkmus
20. The Letter - The Veils
21. The Ills - Mayer Hawthorn
22. Lord Have Mercy - Young Buck
23. Ring Ring - Sleigh Bells
24. Big Thirsty - Big Thirsty


LISTEN TO THE JAMZ HAPPY SUMMER 2010

POST OVERLOAD

This is the lifeblood of my soul currently. This is what's keeping me going, sleeping in the library, water my mouth, water my stomach, drink up, drink the water, I'll drown in my sleep at this rate, I'll read all of these books, I'll have this music so loud, can you hear it?

I hope you can.

Important.

R.E.M.- 7 Chinese Bros.

I like this song because it's back when Michael Stipe was all shy and weird and had a big huge afro. And because the title makes me think he's calling chinese people bros. Which reminds me. I'm reading a Kenneth Rexroth translation of Chinese poetry called 100 Chinese Poems. It's pretty good. I wish writing papers for my Comp. Lit. classes was as easy as talking about R.E.M. and Kenneth Rexroth.

The end.

On The Act of Turning 20:

I'm now a "20-something". I'm looking forward to owning real estate and graduating with a PhD. I'm now the demographic that gets mass-marketed Volkswagens, Ipads, fair trade coffee, wedding rings, duplexes, food blogs, Chris Martin, raybans, and Crown Royal. I have a dog and I live in SoHo. I despise the Metro. I have all the google reader hook-ups.

It's tiring being a "20-something". I have to think about my actions all the time. I have to think about my online image. I have to think about the "big stuff in life". I have to want so many things that I see on etsy and television and in Dwell. I have to get used to sleeping in a queen, alone. I have to calm my White Guilt. I have to calm my Red Guilt. I have to remember my roots, whilst simultaneously disowning them. I have to craft new roots. I have to wonder about my "career". I have to consider buying a Prius. I have to watch all of my friends on facebook get older and more desperate and more married and more and more of their pictures are of them just at bars and I have to wonder if they look at my facebook and wonder what's wrong with me. Am I being considerate enough to my grandparents on facebook?

I have to worry about my spontaneity. I have to worry about if I'm appealing to as many people as possible. I have to worry about if I can cope with inevitable failure. I have to worry about how much I worry about worrying.

PSYCHE. All I have to do is listen to R.E.M. and have a blast!

The only aids you used to know was kool-aid, corn bread, corn rows and corn br-aids.

"Nothing is funnier than unhappiness." -Samuel Beckett

"I am at once a man who thinks and a businessman, and a collector of optical instruments as well.

The moment I put my eye to a kaleidoscope, I feel that my mind, as the heterogeneous fragments of colors and lines assemble to compose regular figures, immediately discovers the procedure to be followed: even if it is only the peremptory and ephemeral revelation of a rigorous construction that comes to pieces as the slightest tap of a fingernail on the side of the tube, to be replaced by another, in which the same elements converge in a dissimilar pattern...

It is my image that I want to multiply, but not out of narcissism or megalomania, as could all too easily be believed: on the contrary, I want to conceal, in the midst of so many illusory ghosts of myself, the true me, who makes them move."

Italo Calvino is (was) kind of the best sport about meta-fiction in the world.

Doesn't everything make you want to everything?

I know it makes me want to!

#Relevant To My Life

On a more personal note:
I worked my first full day at my job today. And I've got to say it's pretty rad. Basically I just sit on a computer writing summaries of department and program histories that I track down in university Annuals. I listen to music and I read history and I annotate and I get lost in the archivalist's dreams and at the end of the day I smell like moldy books.

It's an amazing feeling to actually go to work and not feel like I want to kill myself every second of the day. H8 U BYU TV. Love U HBLL.

I'm going to put forth the notion that in the very near future there's going to be a 90's throw-back of epic proportions the likes of which will completely destroy any and every semblance of cultural authenticity in these times as a whole. Everyone will dress like the lead singer of Smash Mouth and lava lamps will sell like insanely hot cakes. Vintage Old Navy painter khakis will go for $300 at select boutiques online. There's going to be a cult genre of films released that mimic the teen comedy gimmick in sick and awfully nostalgic ways. It'll be a cultural revolution that nobody will be ready for and everybody will be sick of immediately and it will invalidate centuries of thought and insight into the human psyche. In a sense: we will be living in one giant Freddy Prinze Jr. movie and our children will only want to play Charades.

Welcome to my vision of the future.

Music by the Dandy Warhols.

Some people doubt my abilities

But I was born to be surrounded by beautiful people. And I am. Beautiful and talented people. So it's only natural that I should at least expect to date Nataly Dawn soon right? It's understandable to feel that I'm entitled to date that beautiful woman right?


Of course it is!

Am I going to be this smug, self-satisfied asshole for all of my life?

Or will that wane with age?

Hopefully. Ohhhhh Lord hopefully.

Things You Didn't Know About Victor Wong

Victor Wong. Many know him as the grandpa from the nineties kid classic Three Ninjas. Or maybe even his role in The Last Emperor. Heck, maybe you've been a fan for awhile and remember his appearance in Big Trouble in Little China. I mean, that's all I would have remembered him for.

However, here's some shit you most definitely didn't know about this guy:


-He studied political science and journalism at Berkley.
-He studied Theology at University of Chicago under Martin Buber.
-He hung out with Mark Rothko
-He met Jack Kerouac, who then included Victor in Big Sur as "Arthur Ma".
-He got into fights with Bertolucci about the historical authenticity of The Last Emperor and ultimately got most of his scenes cut.

He died in 2001. This dude was mad dope. Seriously, how smart did this guy have to be? How is his life so rich and interesting? Why is he only known as "Grandbro" from Three Ninjas?

Hero-status. For life.

The Young, the Monied, and the Well-Educated are gradually shifting towards a sort of anti-culture that embraces lower social strata ironically (by gradual, I mean it's here and has been here since like 2006 dude). Is it an attempt to find validation? Superiority that you are among the esoteric, the free-form, the ones who "get it"? Is it about personal freedom; the dizzying personal agency that comes along with "doing it your way" without any social strictures or guidelines? Or is it because they are rejecting their parents' values, striking out at the boomers and even the gen x-ers?

I'm constantly enthralled with why the young social elite chooses consistently to embrace the colloquial tones of Michigan-bred urbanites or the hazy glue-huffing attitudes of Midwestern suburbanites over the genteel and dulcet tones of their very own past. By social elite, I mean the young and privileged, the 20-somethings who live in loft apartments and blog for a living. You're far more often to find this cohort talking about Baudelaire like he was their Eminem broski, rather than uh, I don't know, Charles Baudelaire. Are they afraid of the past? Is this normal? Where is our language, attitude, and culture headed?

America has long been a nation of specialists. But generally speaking that was pertaining to the industry of America. Has this great gearing towards specialization bled into our culture as well? That's just silly talk Alex. But still I think about it...

I'm not fearful of the future. I'm just genuinely interested in why I want to listen to Young Jeezy and say stuff like "Chaucer was just a white bro dude" when I attend a private university. I've got grad school on the horizon. I like to read Kafka and Tolstoi. What am I doing listening to Nikki Minaj and Drake?

Is this even at all lucid? I think I've got a point in here somewhere.

I am who I am. Nothing can change that. I've always been this way. I'll always be this way. I'll never be sorry for that. I'll never be afraid of that.

And Martin Buber said: "Man is the crystallized potentiality of existence."

And I believed him.

There's a point where all of the trendy new art/literature/architecture/fashion just congeals into a scary, semi-lucid Old Navy commercial.

See also: Dwell Magazine, Colin Self, Michael J. Yates, and this


See because, this stuff now? It's not challenging. It's not interesting. The American intelligentsia is just boorish. Everything is a perfume commercial and it makes me want to take a long drive in the country, stare at all of the trees and the boats with tarpaulins pulled across their dry hulls, and think about what in the world Enda Walsh has to do with the world.

Tension breeds beauty. I love the way everything looks when it's in the act of falling apart. Austin told me I look for girls who are "rough-around-the-edges", and I don't know if that's true or not, but I definitely think that if someone looks at you with tragedy in their eyes, it's certain you've got to know their story, who they are, and why their face is falling apart.

It gets so dark here at night. Like the air is trying to swallow you up.

Summer's screaming in my mind, tugging at the fabric around my memories. I need the sun and the green grass and the nights that never get dark. I need youth, eternal youth, flowing through my veins. I'll feel that when I'm back home with my friends, I think. Maybe. Maybe not. But it's something to hope for.

A Brief Conversation:

E.: I was just thinking: what is it you do with your life? You stay up until 5 AM. Then you make resumes and cover letters. Then you complain about your job. When do you do real things?

Me: I'm currently watching internet videos. I read two books yesterday and I've made three business calls/contacts today. don't try and understand.

E.: I'm going to make a 48-Hour long documentary called "Christmas" where I follow you around for two days. And try to figure out how you survive. Try to figure out the mystery of your existence. It will all be filmed on a flip camera and have bad lighting and poor sound quality.

Me: You're gonna be really disappointed when you figure out that 95% of my existence is snorting klonopins and drinking scope until I'm too high to drive. Then I go driving. The reckless nature of my vagrant acts gives me an adrenaline rush equivalent to that of a distressed mother when her baby is trapped beneath a bus.

E.: That's exactly what I was expecting I would find.

Staying up all night gives me the best ideas:

It's only on days when I stay up all night that I decide to listen to as much Eminem as possible, facebook stalk the people from high school who have anime profile pictures, and apply for a job.

Empowerment!

Weaknesses:

-Seeing my name in important places.
-Books.
-The promise of exoticism.
-Pretty girls.
-My bed.
-The 1990's.

That about sums it up.

Upbeat Post:

The guy from Golden Shoulders sounds a lot like Willy Mason and The Avett Brothers put together. Just sayin.

Also, I'm listening to a lot of new music currently, and I'm just infatuated with it all. With all of the ways that people can say things. And how people sounds next to a banjo or piano or drum kit. I love it all.

That is all. The end.

Things I Love About My Job

When anyone asks me, "Why do you hate your job so much?" I have to think of all of the reasons why I hate it. I think that the example of right now is perfect:

I was sent home with a rough cut DVD over the weekend to have names and lower third logged and ready to go for monday because we're making a font to put all of the names in by the end of next week. When I watch the DVD to log time codes, there is no rough lower third to reference. There is also no set of credits. I haven't ever seen this project before, because it was outsourced to an independent contractor. I called my boss to tell him this but he answered and then hung up immediately. I called back and only got a voice mail. I then texted him and said, "[Name omitted] this rough cut has no lower third."

His response was: "ok lets get it asap"

Bewildered by this cryptic response, I responded: "I would make an excel outline to commit to in FCP but there are no credits on the show either. So I don't know the names of anyone except for Ed and President Monson."

And I've had no response for half an hour.
In a nutshell, this is my job. I am assigned to do something within a three day span of time with one half-assed resource, no aid from my boss, and no real understanding or expectations of my job or its supposed results.

Everyday that I go into work it's literally as though I'm expected to identify the appearance of over 7 people I've never seen or met before and log the points in which they show up over a period of an hour and a half.

And whenever people wonder what my job is or why I'm unhappy with it, I'll just refer them to this blog post and make them read it for 4 hours straight, but only on the days when they can muster the self-confidence and will to drive 5 miles to sit in a dungeon of a building and be confused over and over and over again.

P.S. I will try to make this the last complaint about my job because I know that shit is annoying and I'm lucky to have a job, etc. But seriously, you deal with this for almost a year. You think, "Some day it'll be different. Some day it'll change." Nope. Working for a strange, restrictive, and utterly disfunctional international corporation is just as retarded as it sounds!

God how strong I feel today, with my nostrils wide, my eyes blinking, window shutters clanging closed, doors shutting then opening. I am a man, a solid stable rock, and time and wind and snow and crowds push against me but I won't budge. I am alive, I am alive, I am alive baby.

Life isn't a fight. But, in the smallest of ways, we can't escape the fact that we are constantly pushed and tested. I thank God for everyday that I can look myself in the mirror and remember simply: I am alive, I am a man, I can outlast the winters.

Updating at work one million times

I'm gonna blow your minds open with all of these work updates. I'm not even going to be mopey about work anymore. That's useless.

I'm listening to good music. I'm making money. I'm going to fail a latin test in two hours. All is well in the world. Yeah?

Heyyyyy, here's a thought. Can the world give me a job where I just read my favorite books while I hang out in bed all day? Is that the life of a "published author"? Because, if so, I'll try my hardest to "make that a reality".

I walked into my work and looked around and literally said, "Psh. Amateurs."

Want to die. hate my lyfe. want to just eat slab pizza and walk in the park and read books and see pretty girls and want a cat and want to write about the weather outside right now and want to never worry about money ever again the end goodbye

The internet makes me feel...

Powerful. It makes me feel awesome. It makes me think of a future where I will be able to lounge in a glorious palace built of ivory and jade, lighting cigars with hundred-dollar bills. It makes me think of all the rap music that I can listen to. It makes me happy.

I don't know why the internet makes me feel like this. It doesn't make me feel like this always. But maybe it's the weather outside. Or the time of year. Or the candy I just ate.

Who knows? I don't. I'll never know. But I hope that someday I'll be so rich that money will bore me. That sounds so cool.

If I made you a mixed cd would you listen to it?

Things I Need to Do:

Get out of this state/country. I think it's high time I travel.

Being in school is for nobodies. Being in the world is what's up. I'm going to be listening to White Panda remixes in London/Norway/Jordan soon.

I’m full of love, I swear I am. And if it would just burst forth, it would smother whole cities. If I could just let this out of me, stop trying to spread blacklamp all over my face and eyes, I’d let it out and then this whole fucking world would see. You’d eat my love for breakfast. You’d store it in your cellars. You’d go to sleep with it.

Sometimes you just have to keep reminding yourself that you’re actually alive.

I told Kelsie I was really into Dr. Dog today. When she asked what "it" was, I said it was a dog that is a physician. It's a greyhound. He's accredited. And the main appeal is that it's really fun to watch him remove your wisdom teeth.

For the sake of clarification, here is Dr. Dog Kelsie. This song is good. It's not their best. But it's good.

Things I just heard in the library

This guy sitting a few tables over from me just was yelling this story. All I caught was this:

Loud Guy: "It was... It was a smoker's boon! I swear! It was *moves arms to indicate a table* this, like this."
Girl with him: "Whyyyy?"
Loud Guy: "I don't know, but I got jam."


So, from now on, I'm all about saying, "I don't know, but I got jam" when people ask me to explain what the Hell I'm even talking about.

This chest is fallow farmland and the world can beat against it, digging deep, trying to give life and love some purchase, but it lies still like salted earth.

I've never written a subtle sentence in my life.

I feel most in control when it's 3 AM and I've cleaned my room finally and my laundry is half done. I feel good mainly because there's a nice breeze in the house that makes me think of spring and because I love the smell of laundry detergent and warm clothes.

I feel in control when I shouldn't feel in control. I feel in control when the world is asleep and I've got hours to myself.

My sleep suffers, my writing suffers, my quirks suffer, but I feel as normal as the next average Joe when I'm up in the middle of the night doing laundry and reading books.

How to Win

-Listen to rap music and win.
-Cook your own food and win.
-Say the word "womp" and mean it. Win.
-Send me an online video that is actually funny. Win.
-Read good books and win.


These are the ways to win. Take notes.

I'm supposed to be writing an essay in the form of Michel de Montaigne right now.

Instead I'm listening to Freelance Whales and thinking about clothing. Thinking about reading. Thinking about how I've been neglecting to call people back.

My essay is called "Of Youth and Manhood", based off of the latin viri and the Kings of Leon album. Also based upon my life and how I'm actively resisting growing up/civil/religious/familial/personal duty.

So that's what my essay will be about. It will be written in my basement in the light of my Christmas lights that hang on my wall probably while I listen to crappy music.

I can't ever tell if I'm perpetually in a bad mood anymore or if I'm just being pathetic... Hmm... Something definitely isn't making a good connection in my body. I'm going to assume that more Diet Coke will cure it. Diet Coke cures anything.

Grizzly Bear's Vecktamist is kind of going to go down as one of those "extremely influential albums" in my life. I mean, my kids are going to be listening to this. This is my generation's Graceland you know?

One time when I was at a Grizzly Bear show at Memorial Hall, some guy stood up and yelled in between songs, "WHY DONTYA PLAY SOME PAUL SIMON FOR US?" and chuckled and then sat down again. Then he left after their set. What?

Is Dananananaykroyd the new Vampire Weekend?

Are they the non-2006 Vampire Weekend?

When will people stop liking bands like Fischerspooner and Husker Du?

TOO MANY QUESTIONS

Reading Newsweek makes me want to shake my fist and yell "REAGANNNNN" like Captain Kirk yelling "KHANNNNNN!!!!"

See also: Why is it that when I go to search, "Wrath of Khan", the first search item after "Wrath of" is "Wrath of the Lich King"? Because that's World of Warcraft stuff. And it is, inherently, irrelevant where Star Trek is concerned.

I'm not the biggest fan of Star Trek. But I know enough to know that Star Trek inspires people not to waste their lives. World of Warcraft inspires kids to not move until they die. I think, google, that you should be putting "Wrath of Khan" above this "Wrath of the Lich King" crap. For the sake of humanity.


INTERNETS

I want some Ranch dressing and waffle fries. I also want a falafel. I also want to just be able to read a bunch of good stuff all day. Listen to chill music. I know art won't save me, but it sure can give me some good ideas.

I've declined my latin noun. Now I'm eating Swedish Fish and thinking about things. Maybe I'm not wasting my time and life after all... I mean, so much of a writer's time should go into thinking about things.

All morning I've been wanting to fashion a time machine so I could go back to China at the turn of the century and put on a performance (in translation of course) of Lope de Vega's "Fuenteovejuna" to the peasant throngs in Hunan. I wonder if it would hit home as hard as the Communist doctrine did... Probably not. The peasants only like the Communists because capitalism was so close to feudalism in their country.

Sigh. See, this stuff isn't useful or necessary to the world.

I'm going to die starving.

I'm supposed to be declining a noun and reading books and doing things like that. Ok I guess I will but first I'd like to take a moment to say that


Well I had something to say and then it left. I'll just say something like

HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY YA'LL or something.

This blog is for my posterity. So my children will know that on January 11, 2010, I was wishing the people who read my blog (nobody) a good day.

I'm like a humanitarian or something. Sometimes.

I'm updating SO MUCH LATELY

But I just feel like.

You know when Ritchie Tenenbaum is messing up that tournament play? And he has one shoe off and keeps staring into the stands?

I feel like that a lot. Just. All nerves.

And then I worry about if I'm too crazy on the internet. If I'm internet crazy. If people reading this think I'm crazy. Or complain or whine too much.


Even this is making me crazy. I'm not crazy. I just REALLY REALLY like to liveblog my life.

I'm so culturally insignificant that it's insane. Maybe that's a good thing. Look at how big of a fool Perez Hilton is.

Sigh, note to self: don't get angry at yourself because you're not a writer for the The Awl, because you don't have a lot of money, because you're not a published novelist, because you're not a musician, because you can't figure out how to shut your mind up.

Kthankx. BYE

St. Augustine used to be like

Festina lente.

But screw that. I'm like Festina Alwaysus. That's latin.

Cause I been tired and hopeful

I decided to rephrase my last post.

I will now just say: Hip Hop's forever.

Why can I only listen to the Weezer 8-Bit tribute album? And it's not even like I'm listening to the whole thing. I can only listen to the songs that came off of Pinkerton. Ohhhh man, stop this life! I can't afford to be crazy obsessive savant boy right now. I can't afford to sit wikipedia-ing my favorite bands for HOURS. I can't afford to think things like, "Maybe now is a good time to get into underground comix." Right now, my brain should be thinking, "Ok, time to learn Latin and Swedish this semester!"

It's just so tough to readjust! I was only home for 13 days or so, but it was like. Oh hello real world. Let me live in you.

Is it so bad that I just want to live in New York and have friends who get it and read books, internets, artist statements, watch Style Wars, look at art, become a jerk, and then die? Is that so bad?

Thank you BYE

After a month of solid living, constantly in control, or seemingly in control, or no control, it'll be tough to walk back into class and try and figure out how to slow it down a little bit.

I got better grades last semester. I'm realizing how terrible of a student I really am at heart. 2.75 GPA? Ok, whatever. At least I'm taking some lit theory classes next semester.

Being home is a head trip. I'm trying my very hardest not to just lay in bed all day reading books and listening to music forever. Death to the infidel who stole my mp3 player.

And as a final note to 2009: you were the year that made me realize I could get some truly fantastic google analytics results.