this year it is is this one, last year it was that...

The last two years, more than the years before, I have had a specific song play over and over in situations that would later become important.

Last year it was the song at the end of this post. Those times are another story entirely. This post is for the moments so far concerning the video above...

There is a radio station out here that considers itself indie, and apparently that just means they don't come in very well. (I'm kidding, they are really good, but their reception is shit.) I heard the song one night driving my car, or Stephanie's car, I don't remember. A few days later the video was on the "on demand" part of our cable box and I watched it 10-12 times. (It is on repeat as I type this, to put me in the mood.)

I've had some rough spots the last 2 months. I don't document them even though I would like to. Long story short, I am where I want to be, and a good portion of the people I surround myself with are not. Believe me, I wish I could, but I can't. I feel like Island Girl.

My loneliest nights and days have had this song attached. Some of the worst thing said to me have had this song attached.

I am both sides of this song. I am neither. I am this song. I am not.

and the bath came back, the very next day...

I took a bath today. It was my first since turning 26. It was nice. My body is sore. A bunch of friends got together yesterday to play flag football. Apparently there are muscles in my chest and around my "core" that don't get any work. Those muscles don't like me today. I don't like them either. But as a gift to mend our rift I offered them a bath. They accepted and seem to be more comfortable. I'm going to walk to the store and buy some stuff to cook.

I have 2 days to apply to a university. I have no idea where to go.

Any ideas?

slouching towards 30...

If there was a hill, and i was my twenties, well, now I am on the back side of said hill. Sunday I turned 26. Monday I recovered. I'm closer to 30 now than 20. That's what happens, right?

I've been in the process of neglect. I've neglected my bike, I've neglected my reading, I've neglected my cooking and I've neglected this. So, for probably the 17th time I'm going to make this thing more regular. I spend a lot of time sitting around watching people become chefs, best friends, fashonistas, sluts and drunks in a little box, I should be able to tear myself away for 15 minutes and throw together some picture with some anecdote about Noam Chomskitty getting neutered or throwing up arm in arm with a girl on my birthday. (That's the new Booth birthday tradition, two years running!)

Imperceptible was nice enough to send me some stuff in the mail. I'll take some pictures.

Hide your VW's I'm feeling frisky...

25 and no posture

I spent the evening making the apartment a home. I cleaned, vacuumed, and cooked dinner. For a while it worked.

A recently friendly face had decided to head back to Florida. I made the 5 minute walk to the bar to say so long. I keep collecting going away parties, hoping the ones for others outweigh my own. They might all be the same, drinks and smokes and bad music. Coworkers doing their best impression of friends, saying the things you are supposed to say so in a couple days it won't hurt to realize you forgot they left. I share a couple of shots, never with the person of honor, and exchange a couple of stories about the nights before I came around and what they used to do. The bar closes it's doors and everyone piles into their cars. I walked back, this time its a little colder and I walk a little faster. I cross the street when I'm not supposed to and I see my reflection in the windows of the diner as I walk past. I realize I'm slouching, and I have been for years. I straighten up and things are better when I get home.

The hours I've been spending alone are adding up like someone else losses on the market. Me? I'm just trying to make it out alive.

stealing other people's democracy, all by myself

There is a video floating around of a bunch of people telling other people to not vote. I think they are kidding. But they also say they are going to wait around for me to register to vote. So, I'm not register, and I'm not going to. Interesting?

I'm not going to link to that video, but I'll link to this one, it doesn't talk down to me.

More on this whole election thing to come.

streets...

I just watched a video where some punk kids set fire to a bunch of buildings in Chicago.
I think...
I've been listening to this Ben Folds song because of Whit for a good portion of my night.
I've been drinking cans of beer with my cat. and VH1.
I took a quick walk, to a liquor store, and a pharmacy, and a market, and all I bought was the beer I've been drinking.

I miss the streets of Chicago. Not so much the city, or maybe the circumstances, or maybe my inability to stand up for anything at any point. Really, I'm not that sure. But I know I miss walking those streets with a hundred places to go, with fifty buses passing me by, with twenty five bars to stop in and drink. I used to pass people on the street.

Now I just pass their empty containers.

7 things i think about while drinking beer alone in the apartment

in no particular order.

1. why does the number 7 always make me think of jesus?
2. if someone with a lot of credibility told me the things i did affected other peoples lives I didn't know, would i believe them?
3. seriously, punk rock should make everyones day better.
4. when I become a teacher, will I be able to do all the things I want to?
5. or will everyone have to read that book about the red fern growing?
6. will dan ever play music again?
7. why doesn't anyone deliver burritos?

wow, what a life.

Blogging as an existance

I would love to blog for a living. But I would get to distracted by fantasy football, death cab for cutie youtube videos and waiting for checks in the mail to get anything done.

I just wanted to post something today.

Her name was Jessica

I met her sometime during my junior year. She was a transfer to our little private school community. I remember having a science class with her. And I remember one of my good friends was trying to pick up on her. I was making out with a different girl named Jessica who I had a crush on the previous year but now decided to return the favor. I got invited to a birthday party by a girl who was a couple of years younger than me who I was kind of friends with. I wanted to buy her a present, so I asked if this new girl Jessica wanted to go to the mall with me. At this point my friend wasn't trying to pick her up anymore. After we went shopping there was a couple of hours until I had to take her home and go to this party. I half jokingly asked her if she wanted to go make out. She said sure. I took her to my mother's boss house, who was in England. We took a pad off of a pool lounge chair and put it on the ground and started making out. I got to second base as fast as I could but got stopped there. I spent the next 45 minutes or so with my hand up a shirt, sloppy kisses on my mouth and grinding my crotch into hers, jean on jean. I still remember how uncomfortable that felt. I took her home, we laughed and joked the whole way to her place. We hung out a few more times, hooked up and enjoyed each others company. Then she started dating someone, and I think I started dating someone and we just stayed friends.

About 9 months later I was keeping myself occupied with random girls and thoughts of college and everything that happens the last months of your senior year. My parents were in the process of splitting up. They still lived at the same house but spent a lot of time with the people who would become my steps. One particularly lonely afternoon I called Jessica. I invited her over. We hadn't hooked up since Christmas the year previous probably, or maybe later, or sooner, I don't remember. When she showed up at my door the first thing she said was that she wasn't going to kiss me. I hugged her and said no problem. We walked through my empty house to my bedroom. I think she had been over before, probably for a party. I put on some cd that was killing me at the time and we sat on the bed. Soon we were laying together, sort of spooning, sort of anxious, sort of distant. I think she said she had changed, that she didn't do that sort of stuff anymore. I told her again that it was ok. I told her I wasn't looking for that. She asked what I was looking for. I told here I just wanted someone there, someone to help fill the empty house, but life back into the coffin that had become my bed, my room, my house, my life. She looked shocked, a little. She hadn't signed up for this. I didn't know what she expected. Probably to repeatedly push away my advances. Maybe to give in. Maybe early afternoon sex. Maybe a bible reading. But she didn't get any of that. She just laid there next to me with a hand in my hair until she had to go home. And she left.

We didn't mention that afternoon. We rarely talked, except for school stuff and mild gossip at lunch. I think she is married now with a kid. And on that one day she did more than she will ever know for me.

Burritos!

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Dear VMA's...

No, I haven't watched them, but I'm going to. I was too busy watching the Bears beat up the Colts. Surprise, I know. I am watching the post show though, and I am confused. Is this where we are? 9 years removed from Nine Inch Nails debuting new music on live television? Say what you will about Nine Inch Nails, but at least Trent Reznor wrote music and no one from Duran Duran was in the band.

Anyways.

I'm going to TIVO this and watch it. No outside influence from blogs or anything. I'm gonna review it.

WHY?

I'm launching a new site - BOOTH REVIEW - this is gonna kick it off.

Be Prepared.

Love, Anthony

Dear Football...

Today is the beginning of football season. I don't count the Thursday game. I don't like the Giants, and I don't like football on Thursdays. I have a few wishes I want football to grant for me this year.

• Keep the Madden Curse ALIVE!
• Let Hester Break the all time returns for TD's record. Against the Colts.
• Let ESPN's Mr Fantasy Guy not convince me to start someone who will ruin my fantasy team that week.
• Have this be the last 16 game season.
• Don't let my cable go out during any games.
• And last and not least, bless Neckbeard.

Go Bears!

Let's keep the romance alive!

Apparently Christina Aguilera (?) and her man with a beard keep their relationship sexy by having Naked Sundays ALL DAY! That is what some woman with blond hair and a yellow suit told me while I was trying to watch college football,well, naked.

Being naked is pretty fucking rad. (Pardon my use of 80's terms of cool)

I'm naked a lot of the day, when I'm not in school or at work. At least the job all my friends know about. I did online philosophy and history homework today naked.

I talked to Whit on aim naked.

I'm blogging naked right now.

The only problem with all of this is if the cat is around he thinks my balls and/or penis are some sort of toy for him to bat at with his paws.

But you know what? Fuck Him!

Let's keep this blog sexy, lets keep our romance hot and heavy, lets save the whips and chains for when the kids are away at camp.

I'll blog naked.

You read naked.

All the world will be a better place! (I'd explain the benefits to the environment, but you already know that!)

***sponsored by The Secret Naturist Society***

***I'm kidding***

Anthony Sells Out...

This blog is up for sponsorship. Why?

Because I am broke.

Surprise, huh?

No, I am not upside-down on the home I own, well, because, I don't own a home. And my bank didn't go under so I can't get my funds because, I have 4 dollars in the bank.

Yup, broke.

32 dollars in my wallet, 31 available on a credit card, some miscellaneous change in my car, and 20 dollars in 1982 uncirculated pennies I got for my graduation from high school.

I was gonna go to the pawn shop today to pawn my guitar, but I stopped because Stephanie said she would leave me if I do, and she was already pissed off, so I didn't, I believed her.

So I need some cash. Here's how we'll do it.

You can sponsor it for one day for $10.
Or seven days for $50.
Or a month for $180.

In return you get:

• One post a day, two on weekends.
• The option of picking the topic of the post(s).
• The option of picking the style of the post(s).
• A picture of myself (and maybe Stephanie) at your favorite Canoga Park Landmark.

So go ahead and think it over. Tell your friends. Post it on your blog. Add it to your church newsletter. Whatever.

Thanks, I have to go suck dick in the alley now.

Class, classes, classless.

Sunday and Monday I saw Matt, my friend from Chicago. We stayed up ill 3 drinking and singing and recounting those cold months I spent there and the warm months I've spent here. It was another example of how both greatly and positively music has affected my life.

I sat in my first class yesterday since sometime in 2003. Different, very different. I didn't know my way around the campus, there was no one I had a class with before, no one who went to my high school, no one's younger brother or sister. On 3 hours of sleep I did well. I was excited to be there, and I'm excited to go again tomorrow.

I say things at the wrong time. I say them the wrong way. I say them to get things I want. I say them to back out of things. I say them to avoid confrontations. The worst is when it is the best thing to do but you do it at the wrong time.

I'm getting better at rebuilding bridges I've burned. I don't think I need any more practice, but I keep setting them on fire.

football and money

A year ago I was worried about where I was going to live and if I was about to loose my job.

One year later, today, I got a job working for the same company I thought was going to throw me out on my ass. And I live in Canoga Park.

Oh, how things change and how they stay the same.

Almost a whole bottle of Jack Daniels was consumed sitting on a nameless road tonight. We tried to figure out how we had even gotten things together enough in our lives to even meet. Chance encounter after chance encounter with so many people put us on that empty street.

I don't think I've ever been so amazed in my life, how things work out, come together.


You wonder where you change, or how you change. Places, people and things fall in and out of favor. Songs loose meanings, mountains don't scare you, valleys don't hold you, and you don't know why.

It feels good to do this again. The feelings are very different. But I love them.

I think if I ever were to be famous, or someone decided to document me and my life for the sake of prosperity, this last year will be the one. The one that sold the movie deal, the one that gets quoted on the sleeve, the one that people mine for ideas of how to not live their lives and how to create a character with no soul. This last year is the one that so easily folds me into a pretty little package with the ribbon and the shit-paper, my cliff note life.

But godamnit, it would be the best cliff-notes ever purchased.

Or not.

I got a lot of years left of fucking up ahead of me.

30 days (almost, not really, close. sorry.)

Stephanie sits in a restaurant waiting to be interviewed for a job. These have been tryings days lately. There's a new car that refuses to start, sitting on one of the only streets in the San Fernando Valley without streetsweeping or parking restrictions. Pure luck. Every day from before 2 to after 4 in the afternoon we drive around and Stephanie picks up, fills out, and drops off applications. We argue about money, but it is more about the insecurity. Stephanie hasn't been here before. There are some days I feel just as old as her, and other days it feels like it's more than 5 years that separates us. I've been jobless for months before, selling things on e-bay to make rent and pay utilities, riding bicycles with Bill to a bar that wouldn't charge us for our drinks. I've wandered around a city of millions in falling snow, walked a mile and a half in the dark through neighborhoods I've never heard of let alone seen before to interview for jobs that I was completely unqualified for. Returning things you bought for a buck or two so you can get drunk and sleep through the anxiety, I've done that too. It gets exciting, trying to figure out what bill you can hold off paying, which peter you can rob to pay paul. I'm in the middle of a two week interview process to serve at Pepper's again. Almost 3 years of experience at the same place and I still need multiple interviews. If things would have worked out how I wanted them to, I'd already be stockpiling cash under my mattress.

Soon.


Canoga Park is beautiful. There's graffiti, burrito places, vegetarian restaurants, a pool to swim in everyday, and an abundance of nooks and crannies to explore. A nice man named Bill runs the liquor store around the corner (Tally HO!). Our apartment manager is absent minded. Life is good.

Except the cat wants to kill me, and help me cook.

I'll unpack my camera and show you how things are.

in 15 minutes....

I'll be with Whit drinking beer.

I am moving on August 1st to Canoga Park.

I start school on September 2nd.

I got a car that drives on freeways.

I'll be quiting my job soon, but shooosh, they don't know yet.

Then I'll serve again, maybe tend bar, and read more, and write more, and blog more.

August 29th 2009. Thats the wedding day.

See you there.

girls shoes

Yesterday I bought 5 dollar lady shoes to wear to work.

They aren't very comfortable.

And they dyed my socks black.

My kitten likes the way they smell.

I am alive. I still work too much. I'm moving again soon!

Sleeping Houses at Dawn

Tender eyes and hearts close and pound,
silence deep enough to drown,
Proud words and turning ache
swearing just for swearing's sake.
Wrong turns and blinking blinkers
taking place of abandoned winters,
Shorter skirts and warmer hearts
begging for this to start.

Glasses sweat and empty out
fears and hopes and loves and doubt,
No equal level and no familiar gauge
to finally feeling one's age.
Glowing blue and yellow days
now batting, Willie Mays,
Your father's face evolves
to fit all of us involved.

Still some smoke holds on
to the horizon at dawn,
And visitors leave flowers crossed
where the innocence was lost.
We count the paper for it's worth
and pray it stretches over earth,
fills our every need today
or makes us hate to run away.