Tuesday, April 29, 2008

About that picture

We went walking from her parents house down to the beach. We drank some beer and some brandy. We accidentally interrupted another couple enjoying the moonlit night. We stood a few hundred feet from the spot on the beach where the picture on the top of this blog was taken.

I didn't have a plan. I didn't have a ring. I didn't have an idea what the reaction would be. But I did it anyway. I got on both knees and asked her to marry me. If one is good, then two should be better, yeah? And she said yes. It was 1:16 in the morning. And only us, the moon, and the oceans knew.

I woke up in the morning, and we were both curious if we were still going to do it. We were. And we are. Phone calls were made to parents and the closest friends. Text messages and emails about the news were sent out. And now you know too.

If you read this, you are invited. We seem to be aiming for May of next year. When the official date comes, you will know. And you will get to see Whit marry people, in person!

So I'm going to start planning a wedding, you should start planning your next visit to California.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Saturday, April 26, 2008

not the update you were looking for....

Its really nice outside. I want to have a bbq. So I am going to. But I think everyone is at work, or doing something else. Sorry I haven't been around. I like being outside. A keg would be nice, like in this video.

I'm not trying very hard, am I?

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

computer attacks, I attack back!

My computer can be a bastard. It likes to make me reinstall windows. So I comply. Thats what I've been up to. Exciting crazy ridiculous news in a day or two, ok? In the meantime enjoy this video, I have burritos to fold.

The Get Up Kids - Action & Action

Thursday, April 17, 2008

About Last Night...

Dear smile I see almost every morning I wake up,

I was laying in your bed last night, on top of your blankets and sheets. You were sitting next to me and we were sharing a burrito. I picked up your phone to take a picture, that technology has yet to make its way into my pocket. The picture I took of us was blurry, poorly lit, and the composition seemed off. I thought it was just the camera, so I asked to look at your other pictures. And it wasn't the camera, it was me.

There was the Statue of Liberty, and Times Square. There was me in the kitchen. There was that picture you sent me when I sat alone in that bar one night. And that was all that was familiar. There were a couple of a guy I have never seen before or met. But I think I know his name, and who he is, but I didn't want to ask, and you didn't offer any information, not like you did with the other pictures.

Now I know, personally, what you were talking about when we saw their pictures of San Francisco and the pictures of their visit to the mid-west accidentally showed up. When all you can think about is spending time with someone, missing them, wanted them to be around, and you see them enjoying their life without you, well, that is a feeling I don't care to revisit.

But you can't go back, you can't take away those smiles, those laughs, those tears or those kisses. And there is no reason to get rid of those mementos. If you do, you might forget why you don't visit those place anymore, it happened to me.

Then there were pictures of your friends. And of car rides. And babies. And pets. And you and your ex, the one I know. And that was a year ago. Or more. And you looked so happy.

I was hurt. Not for all of these pictures, but for the ones that weren't there. Of us. I thought that you didn't want pictures of us together in your phone, mingling with your past lives. And I thought that you might not take as many pictures as you used to. But I didn't say anything.

We shared a couch later, and some drinks. I remembered the flowers from mere hours before. Your surprise, and your smile.

And I wasn't hurt anymore. Who cares what pictures of who are where? Who cares if your interest in cellular photography has passed you by? At the end of the day, we share a bed, and in the morning, you wake up in my arms, smiling. And all of those hours between mean just as much, if not more. So I'm sorry for the brief cold sentences yesterday. Patterns are easy to repeat, ruts are hard to get out of, but I'm trying.

I hope you find this.


Saturday, April 12, 2008

the difference is in the distance

I am volatile. My highs are very high. My lows are even lower. My times in the middle are few and far between, and they are less everyday. I love so hard I want to wrap myself up with the ones I love and never see anything of them again. I hate so serious I have flashes of violent acts being committed on strangers and the closest of friends. I scream until my veins bulge and my throat bleeds. I drink to just before total blindness. And so on and so forth.

Since I have become aware of these facts, two people have been involved in my life to calm me down. The first made me boring; they stole my passion. The second, Bill, tells me things I don't want to hear. They are some of the nicest things ever said to me. At least by someone with their clothes on. ;) And he does this with out making me boring.

So I wanted to say thanks to him, he means more to me than he probably knows.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

tears on my headrest

I drove my good friend Gabe to work this morning. I was hungover. The sun was out, the air was still, it was beautiful. I listened to a band I've heard 1800 times again, and it felt new. I cried. When I got home I crawled back into bed. The day has been longer than I could have ever imagined.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

nothing feels as old

As I did last night. I sat on my bedroom floor drinking wine, eating fake buffalo wings and then drinking beer. When you meet someone who hasn't heard all of your stories, who wasn't there for all the heartbreak and happiness, who doesn't have all of the same friends, and spent their formative years in different parks/garages/clubs/driveways/backseats you get to learn more about yourself. Recounting losing your virginity is different when it is almost 10 years removed. Replaying soundtracks to your evenings leaves you with songs that don't carry the weight they used to. Trying to explain inside jokes, or why you can't get high, or name sections of deserts that are now empty shopping centers, or which girl it was that you last referred to as a girl, before you started dealing with women, really add the pages to the calender that had snuck on unnoticed up to this point. But being so far removed from these things and realizing that you don't have to defend those decisions anymore, that makes the transitions easy to take. It was a great night on my bedroom floor, like one I hadn't spent in almost a decade.

Friday, April 04, 2008


I painted this last night. I was supposed to be folding burritos, but it was slow, so they sent me home. Definitely ok with that.

Bill, myself, and some other people are going to make suicide mixes. The idea is that these are the songs you would listen to before you killed yourself, they would be your suicide note.

I'm going get started on that and wait for a plane from New York to show up. Consider me excited on all fronts.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

the times we do, the times we don't

I got a digital camera for Christmas in 2005. I have taken a lot of pictures on it. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 4000. That is at least what I have saved. There are pictures from 3 going away parties, a last night in town, 6 or 7 different states, costume parties, birthdays, nights at bars, beaches, mountains, airports, trains, buses, friends, girlfriends, ex-friends, people I never see anymore, kitchens, living rooms, bedrooms, garages, yards, patios, apartments, houses, a pool, and my own blood.

I had a box, probably 14x20, full of pictures taken with traditional cameras. 35mm, 110 mm, disposable, polaroid. Sometime before I got the digital camera I threw all of those pictures away. I don't miss them, those times didn't seem familiar. I didn't long for them, I am happy they are gone. In terms of the pictures I own, I didn't exist before 2005.

It is a strange feeling, feeling like you didn't exist, when you know you did.

That might be why I take a lot of pictures now. I often forget to take pictures when something momentous is happening. The everyday stuff, I'm there for. And those pictures turn out better anyways.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

A harmonica in my lungs

There is a song playing right now, that is barely longer than 2 minutes and quiet enough to play in the most somber of places. It has a harmonica in it. And that harmonica echoes out of my lungs and heart and other organs.

Today (technically yesterday, I haven't gone to bed yet, so it is the same day) I walked around the desert next to my house. The same desert from these posts. I went wood gathering. I didn't have any exact ideas for the type of wood I wanted, I just knew I needed enough to make a flower. I have the day off from burrito manufacturing, so I figured I could do something nice for someone, make some art, and start regaining some of those hands on skills we seem to be using. (I didn't notice we were loosing are ability to work with our hands, but Bill brought it up, and he is a smart guy, and he is right. He is going to learn how to weld, count me excited.) After my gathering I went to the hardware store for nails and spray paint. Then I took pizza to Whit. Awww, lunch date. After borrowing a saw from him I went to work. Here are the before, in process and after. Crystal might be mad at me for spray painting the grass. She might not.