on your last night in town

So tonight is your last night in town. You'll spend it in a house with ugly blue carpet with friends and drinks and your dog. You'll probably be doing some last minute packing. There will be some tears. Part of me wants to be there, but most of me knows it is better if I am not.

We spent some horrible times together these last few years. And we have spent just as many wonderful ones. There's been nights I wish I could never forget, but I will, and nights I want to throw away, but I will never be able to.

I've known of your existence for probably 15 years. We were friends for close to 10. We were more for 5. And now I don't know what we are. It is sad, but it is reality. For every mean thing I ever said I thought two sweet things. And for every time I broke your heart I broke my own too.

I've heard that you have said I am no longer the person you fell in love with. I agree. I haven't been that person in a couple of years. You are no longer the girl I feel in love with either. But you can't be nineteen forever, right? If there is anything I have realized in these recent months is that we constantly reinvent little parts of ourselves, and if you are too close to the fire you don't notice it getting stronger or dying out. Piece after piece, thought after thought, love after love, they all add up and before we know it we are different.

In 24 hours you'll be on the road with your now ex-roommates, in another state, on your way to another one, and more after that. You'll see things you have never seen before, and things that are familiar. Days will pass. Then weeks, then months, and years. And we will forget the things we said that we meant, and the things we didn't. We'll forget the sunsets and the trips and the fights and the songs. And one day you'll wake up to realize you haven't thought of me in a long time, and you will smile, and you will be happy.

Or you won't.

I don't want to tell you to be safe, I want to tell you to be strong. I don't want to tell you to be careful, I want to tell you to be consistent. I don't want to tell you to forget me, but you should. I don't want to tell you good bye, but I will.

Goodbye.

announcements

I am taking the month of August off. From booze, from women, from a good portion of my life. I will also be trying to get rid of all this useless shit that is crowding my life, a thing a day on ebay for 31 days.

I'll be keeping this updated more often, especially since I won't be spending all that time drinking.

monday, sunday, whatever.

I understand what it is to be an adult. I mean, I know how to postpone things. No new insight into life or anything exciting like that. Sorry.

I am also sorry I never got around to recapping my trip. It was a really good time, and it was exactly what i needed.

I've had a bunch of crazy nights. The trip to the lake started it off. It has been just short of completely ridiculous every night since. I think I've been to bed before 4 once since Tuesday, and that was 3:30. Tonight should be no exception. Yesterday was a going away party. Tonight is the going away after party (her last night at her favorite bar). Isn't it comforting to know I am not waist deep in alcohol alone, but I have friends to wade through it with me?

My body feels like I did any sort of strenuous activity for a week straight. I am old man sore. My body hates me.

I am hoping to put up something tomorrow. I started on it today and it will probably be pretty emotional. It should turn out good, or at least the way I want it to.

And I have something pretty exciting planned, and I will announce it tomorrow.

This video is of a song on the mix Tony made for my trip. See you tomorrow.

there are such a thing as man hands

I am sitting on a flight from Seattle to San Francisco. My row has myself and a couple sharing an I-pod. We are all drinking bloody marys. He has man hands, I do not.

My hands are small (not like Jewel's hands though). They have very little hair and the hair that is there is very light. There are a couple of callouses, nothing exciting. My fingertips and parts of my palms look like I slice them up with razor blades. They are smooth and soft. They are not man hands.

Which is fine. I like my hands.

late nights at lakes and loose ends

This is no proper summery of my vacation. It is something.

About 30 minutes ago I got home from a lake. I sat on a log with a girl and participated in the sort of conversation/flirting/self-deprecating humor that would have Anthony-circa-1998 proud. I had been at this lake before, and I was the same person. It had been years.

I would like to think I know what I am doing. I don't. I react with the same sort of rush to judgement that has put me into many a pickle before. I don't think, I feel, and I act. Most of the people I know are used to it by now, the ones who don't call to make sure I am not dead.

I see cycles repeating themselves as I look around my room. To part of me it is ok, comforting, to part of me it is scary.

I saw a lot of stars tonight. I am going to try to remember that feeling, along with the feeling of disappointment with the unreturned small advances and the one-arm-hugs that end an evening, far too long after it should be over, but just before it should begin.

Now, the loose ends.

• Daniel, I received your mix in "the post". (Am I right?) I listened to it while some friends and I got in on some slip-and-slide action. Also, a little during a fantasy football draft. Whit was there, he can tell you. (p.s. Ash - one of my favorite bands in high school. That cd, 1977, soundtrack to the unintentional rapid growing and dismembering of my heart. I love that song.) Thank you very much.
  
• Speaking of Whit, the however many things I love about him will be coming soon.
• My gangster name is silly. It confuses me.
• I un-quit my job. My vacation realigned my mind. Too bad it popped other parts out. More to come.
• It was nice to stay up to date with all of the blogs on my vacation. I am sorry you didn't know I was there, but I was.

I have all sorts of interesting things lined up. I actually made notes of things to blog about while on my vacation. Surprise, surprise.

The video is The Mountain Goats. They will make your life better.

p.s. - I will fix the banner, promise.

sometimes a mix is just a mix

I used to make mix tapes. I made them for everyone. I made them for girls I loved and ones I hated too. I made them for my friends. I made them for my parents. I made them for myself. I was great. Sometimes they were just songs I liked hearing, especially if it was for me, and others every single song meant something.

I didn't like the transition from mix tapes to mix cds. Its too quick making a cd. You don't have to sit and stare at your collection for 45 minutes, trying to decide what will flow good into eachother. You don't have to set apart the time to listen to every song as it is being committed to tape. You don't get to change your mind halfway though a song because you remembered something will go better with the song playing than what you had lined up.

I want to get back to making tapes. But that's not the point.

I am in Oregon. A couple of days before I left I solicited mixes on myspace. I got two. I listened to them both waiting for my two planes and on them. I listened to both three times through. Why?

To figure out which songs mean something, and which are just for the sake of a good song.

I put myself in the "I" role of a song, then in the "you". Sometimes I am a part of "them", other times the "them" is against me. And sometimes the songs are about people I know, shared situations with the mix creators. And sometimes the songs are ones that I would put on a mix for them. It is a fun little game, but it can drive you a little crazy.

Oregon seems to be doing good things for my body and my mind. It hasn't been a full scale detox in either area, but I am getting little bits and pieces of clarity.

Here's to exciting days ahead (a weekend in San Francisco!).

(don't) go chasing waterfalls

I am in Oregon. I went to this waterfall yesterday with my parents and their new puppy. There is a trail that takes you about 60% of the way down. We walked down it, then I hop over the railing and hiked closer. I got to where the dirt patch on the right narrows into the skinny darker path. I sat on a rock, took some pictures, and let the mist of the waterfall spray me in the face.

The vacation is nice. Life is slow up here. That's ok.

Just wanted people to know I was alive.

the more things stop the more they must go on

That is Tim Barry, he is good.

It's 3:15ish on a saturday night. I am alone in my bed for the first time in probably about a week. The days seem to be bleeding together. That happens when you do the same sort of things everyday. I wake up about 11. I eat some lunch. Some music gets played, either live or on speakers. I go to work. I almost break down. I drink. I spend my nights with a lady. Everyday. That is what I do. No ties, but it might as well be a nine to five. No wife, but it might as well be a nine to five. Sometimes it feels like no life, but it is still better than a nine to five.

I am in life reimagination mode right now. I put in my notice at work. I shaved off my beard, which I've had pretty non-stop for about 4 years. I am putting mental price tags on all of my possessions, in case of a fire sale. I am assessing my personal value, in terms of how much my time is worth, and if I can turn my time into a place to live and food and time with friends. I am making decisions with little to no thought. I am wondering if this is it, or if there is someother path, or door, or window, for me to take.

Dan said the other night that women were prone to trying to fix their lives by running away, by moving to a new town, finding new friends, new thoughts, new loves, but not doing anything different.

My X-chromosome must be acting up.

wine and propagandhi

I drank some wine last night. Bill's parents came over, Crystal cooked, I sat around and drank beer. I should really develop some sort of usefullness. The wine was served with dinner, it made me sleepy. So Bobb came over and we did some sake bombs. I love sake bombs. LOVE THEM. Then we did some Van Halen inspired acrobatics in the backyard. Video's to come.

After dinner and before sake bombs the house watched a Propagandhi DVD. It was glorious. Now, Propagandhi wasn't the first "political" punk band I listened to, that would be Bad Religion, but did it so good! Most of my exposure to radical politics, thinking and lifestyles came from the hours of sitting in my room, door locked, pouring over the lyric sheet with the cd screaming, trying to figure out what was going on. I owe alot to them for influencing the person I am today. So I'll give you a video of those wonderful fellows at the end of this.

I can feel my body starting to wear out. I've been doing a bunch of living, and by living I mean mixing alcohols and beer and vomiting and sweating and playing music and yelling and sulking and crying. This Oregon vacation is going to be nice.

karma police

Last night at the wonderful hellhole that is Peppers a family brought in their 16 year old son to celebrate his birthday. There were parents, a grandparent, a sister, and some friends. I was their waiter.

This party of 10 was filled with a good cross-section of typical restaurant patrons.

• The fatty who wanted ranch on everything. EXTRA RANCH at that. And an appetizer. And an extra side.
• The kid who drinks water and doesn't eat.
• The lady who asks where the salads are on the menu while looking at them.
• The lady who doesn't speak english.
• The drunk.
• The toothless gentleman.
• The guy who wants his check split off, then changes his mind.
• The guy who asks for a refill after you announce to the table that you will be right back with their refills.

Basically, I hated them. But I kept my hatred hidden while doing my job. And I did a very good job too, even getting a very spirited birthday song out of my co-workers for the birthday boy. They had three checks, all paid with credit cards. As the father was paying for his, which was the bulk of the bill, he told me "Don't worry, your tip is on the table". So they all left, and sitting amongst the dirty dishes on the table was six dollars.

There bill was 185 bucks.

So when the drunk mom and toothless gentleman came in 5 minutes later to look for her glasses that she had lost, and they weren't on the table or the ground, I couldn't help but go to the back of the restaurant and air high-fiving the thing in charge of karma.

Thank you good sir, thank you.

I hope your glasses aren't prescription...

p.s. I totally put in my notice at Peppers yesterday too! I will be joining Whit in the ex-pepper employee box checking.

5 Things I Dig About Jesus

I was all prepared to do a 5 things I dig about Jessie Spano from Saved by the Bell, but it was stupid.

5 Things I Dig about Jesus

1. His reporting on DRUDGE REPORT. In addition to being a carpenter, Jesus minored in inflammatory right-wing journalism at university. Amazing what someone can accomplish when they put their mind to it. I wonder what else he did those years no one wrote about him.
2. He was in that band, with Mary Chain.
3. His dry-erase marker art in junior high school. He could make stuff look 3-D, with the special glasses he carried around in his pocket, of course.
4. Catholic Girls. They exist because of him, and I exist because of them.
5. He deleted his myspace account. To much baby-momma-drama dragging him down. He's an example to us all.

I tag Bert at The Sounds I Make. He is lazy, now he has something to blog about.

I

I love flying...

...and my favorite thing about flying is turbulence.

Turbulence makes me feel alive! The knot in my stomach, the racing of my heart, my mind thinking of what people will say at my funeral if the plane goes down. I love turbulence alone, I love it sitting with family, I love it holding the hand of someone I wouldn't mind dying with. I want to get a job that has me travel by plane for business. I want to feel the jumping/hoping/shaking of the plane once a week, every week, for the rest of my life.

I get to fly from Burbank to Seattle to Redmond, OR a week from monday. I can't wait for the shaking to start.

An update to yesterday: I actually had a really good time with all the craziness. I think taking the second nap really made things turn around. That and the shot of whiskey that made me throw up. Those two things made my night end well.

I guess tomorrow I will do the 5 things I dig about Jessie MeMe Island Girl tagged me with. She keeps this up and I'll have to tag her.

I got an email last night about the one that got away, or, more accurately, the one that if I had ever had the chance to, she would be the one that got away. That's a bit confusing.

Have a good rest of the day.

07/07/07 = the luckiest day created by an asshole in a coat

It is one o clock in the morning. Or close enough for the people on espn.com to say that nothing good happens after midnight. I used to disagree. Tonight, I don't.

We (myself and Bill, as BOOTH!) played a show today. It went really well. My dad showed up. He lives in Texas, but he was in town. He has never seen us before. He seemed to enjoy it.

Now here is where the proverbial shit hits the proverbial fan.

Super easy version (for the people who have the same skill in math as I do). Me + Beer + Sun + Daddy Issues + Ex + New Girl I am Dating + Small Anarcho-Collective Bullshit + Music + No Interest = 07/07/07

Super long crazy version. Show up at my house with a 12 pack, we'll talk.

So I leave the bar, drive drunk, come home, sleep. See Crystal my roommate, talk about things, sleep again. I wake up to walk into my backyard to see Adam, a friend who does piercing who I really like, his crazy girlfriend, a girl from Riverside, and my ex sitting in my backyard. Everyone else is MIA.

My roommates just showed up, with Robert. The girl I am dating is on her way. The guy my ex went on a date with at Maxdon's is here. So are some rad folks from Riverside. I just put on my Kevlar vest.

Here's to 07/08/07 being more filled with shit than 07/07/07.

Oh luckiest day in history, I hardly knew thee.

where have I been? not so sure

Yesterday I did a little slip and sliding. Yup, i's awesome.

About every 3 months get this urge to move. Sometimes its to another part of the glorious Antelope Valley (Rattling the Kettle - They call it Antelope Valley because the first high school here was Antelope Valley, not because of dead animals!) Rarely it's to another country. Most of the time it is to one of a couple cities. It used to be Boulder, CO. Then it was Chicago, IL. Now it's Seattle, WA. (For a hot second it was Minneapolis, MN) I think I still would love to live in Chicago, but someone stole it from me right under my nose. Boulder, or rather Denver, is the same distance from both sets of my parents and from Lancaster, my eternal home. Which makes it very appealing. But I am gonna stick around for a while.

The nice thing about these urges is they always happen when I feel my life is getting super shitty. And at that same point a series of things happen that remind me life is actually ok and I have a great group of friends here.

It will happen someday, and it will be fun, and then I'll be back.

persona non grata

That's a great little phrase if you ask me.

Apparently today is the annual celebration of The United States Independence. Awesome. I will be celebrating by making drinks for the second loneliest people on earth (the first being drinkers on christmas.) Thinking it won't be very busy tonight, not entirely sure. But at least there is a three hour O'Reily Factor marathon to keep me company and upbeat.

Sarcasm:off

Actually this day got me thinking about some people I have met. The type of people who you meet, they terrorize your life for a day or two, or a week, or a month, and you never see them again. Or you do, and it's 5 years later. And they do the exact same things again. You sit around with friends and say "remember so and so, they were fucked up" and someone else will say "yeah, i saw them a month ago, you won't believe what they did" and some ridiculous story follows. I really like those people. I wish I was one of them. Sometimes.

So here's to you, wherever you may be. I hope to see you soon, if only for a day.

today is a day for midday cocktails

I don't know what you have on your agenda today, but for me, it's midday cocktails. Today is my roommate Crystal's birthday. If my placement of the trip to Vegas for her birthday is correct, she is 23. I am pretty good about not living in one place for too long so that all I need to do to remember when something happened is to remember what key I was using at the time.

I haven't gotten her anything yet, I should probably do that before I get drunk and give her something completely ridiculous. Actually, that's probably a better idea.

I am going to go open a beer and take a shower. I'll also put on some clothes.

This is my first naked post, in that I am naked while it is being "composed".

where do my sundays go...

I spent the evening working. I spent the later evening with bill and gabe talking about the things that brought us to where we are: parents, women, alcohol, hatred, love, and bands we will never see again. Some things got brought up that almost had me at the verge of tears. It was nice to see that I am not the only one. It was nice to see that things are different for all of us.

Sorry it's not sunday, but monday. If you were here, you would understand.