holy crap, this is awesome.

so, this is a dramatic milestone for me- I've never been able to keep up with a blog for this long. Well, not long, because chronologically, the last one is older. But as far as posting on a basis that borders on consistency, this one has them all trumped.

And it looks like Blogger decided to celebrate by making a widget, that hopefully works. If you're reading this, the widget worked.

Last week was a whole lot of boring, paired up with a whole lot of crazy. Highlights include a broken heater, Dave's sprained (but almost broken) ankle, three pots of coffee between the two of us, and going to Orpheus only to find out that while I ingeniously removed the X's on my hands, I forgot about the hand stamp that signifies "i'm over 21!" I then woke up to find that my mild cold had redoubled its efforts in making my head feel painfully detached from the rest of my body. At least, in the wake of all of it, I have a fabulous makeup job to look back on.

Things that are exciting: my having some time to do some songwriting tomorrow, because I don't work until later in the day, and my parents will be at work, and I'll have unrestricted access to the piano. giggity.

It's also been a considerable amount of time since I started this post. I got preoccupied trying to record a cover of "They Don't Know," by Tracey Ullman. Given that I haven't got access to a choir of joyful-sounding women, nor have I access to Garageband, it's largely Iron-and-Wine-do-Such-Great-Heights-esque.

Today, I spent way too much time on Myspace. I don't think I needed to sign in more than once. I hit "Reload" enough times to keep me logged in. That's pathetic. But, I did substantially update it lately, so you should check it out. And be my friend if you're not already. Think of it this way- if you're one of the regular readers who occasionally hounds me to update, Myspace gives you one more method of doing so. On that note, I'm going to bed- today's been pathetic enough.

(DB) out.

if you're reading this, i haven't thought of a title

I spent the entirety of today feeling like I don't exist. Why, you ask? I slept til 4pm and didn't shower or get dressed until a good bit after 8pm. I sometimes disgust even myself.

I did nothing all day. I went to the diner though, and just got back not too long ago, so I guess that could count for something.

I think yesterday was pretty similar as well. I spent an inordinate amount of time re-doing my Myspace page, because I discovered how to use the br tag to keep the "About Me" section from removing line breaks. Oh, and I went on a date yesterday, which was nice. We saw "Transamerica," which was pretty good and not too heavy, considering the plot, then had coffee and a bite to eat.

Many hours have passed since I started this entry. i've attempted to develop an understanding of some basic Japanese. I have failed thus far. And now I'm going to bed, because I'm tired.

(DB) out.

my tires are spinning

Despite my best efforts to get my shit together sometimes, I always seem to fall short.

I think in this case I'm referring to keeping up on my blog. It seems like I always forget about it, at least when things are interesting. When things are eventful, I tend to keep my mouth shut, because I'm not done processing my reactions to events, and I'm afraid of saying something that might be misinterpreted, or interpreted perfectly and unfavorably received. But, hell with it.

This is what's been bothering me these past couple days, and a number of people know about this and a number of people might not. Those who need to know will be able to substitute in the correct proper nouns.

A close friend of mine is getting married in a couple weeks. She's packing up her stuff and moving somewhere far off. I know I shouldn't look to pop culture for wisdom, but somewhere in the Matrix trilogy, it was said that "you can never see past a choice you don't understand." And I could go on forever talking about how I disagree with her reasons for leaving so soon, but all it comes down to is, no matter how many times I run the facts through my head, I can't come up with a solid understanding of any of it. So, I choose to understand something far more simple.

I'm going to be losing contact with someone I've known since I was practically a child. I don't want her to go. And since I haven't fully come to terms with why she's leaving, I know that when she goes, it's going to be quite some time that I'll be worrying about her, wondering whether or she's okay, and moreover whether or not she's happy. It's not my place to tell her what to do, and it's really not even my place to be worrying. But such are the failures of human nature; our abilities to act as we think we should become impeded where the people we care about are concerned.

She wants me to help her pack sometime this week. And I'm afraid. The five-year-old inside says, "why should I help her pack up and leave me for reasons I disagree with?" After stifling that particular voice, I get a feeling that I can really only describe like this:

When you take your cell phone out of your pocket, and it's been on silent, and it says "One New Voice Message," and you're waiting to hear whether or not someone made it through surgery, or whether or not you got a job offer, or something equally important. You want to know, and you know you have to confront the situation, but you hesitate before you press the "Check Messages" button. If the moment of truth is going to change everything, you want to hold on to reality as you know it for just a little longer, even if it doesn't help anything in the long run.

I don't know how I'm going to be affected by watching one of my closest friends put her life into boxes, and take her leave of me. I don't know if I'm going to approach the situation with grace, or if I'm going to break down into a blubbering fool, or if neither of those will happen. We might end up spending the whole encounter laughing about little things, having lunch, and making fun of her old possessions, just like she wasn't leaving at all. Historically, neither of us have good track records avoiding elephants in the room when it comes to our feelings, and either of us finally pulled it off, I don't even know how I'd feel about that.

When all is said and done, I fear this change, but I don't want to avoid it. I just need to take that leap of faith.

In other news, there is really no other news. We had a snowstorm. Whoopee. I haven't worked much this week, and accordingly, I haven't had too much to do with myself. I need to get on the ball with waking up before my parents come home from work, because I feel like I could use a little therapeutic "me" time in front of the piano, which doesn't happen often when they're here. Too loud or something. Well, that and sometimes I'm self-conscious about music unless I know exactly how I want what I'm playing to sound. when I start to patch songs together out of nowhere, I don't like having other present during the creative process. Which may be something I should look at working on if I ever hope to be something other than a bad musician.

Right now, I'm rejoicing in the fact that I know how to type, and I don't have to look at the screen. I've got my head thrown back on my chair, I've got my headphones on, and an adequate knowledge of keyboard shortcuts. I don't even have to look up to change the song I'm listening to. Which feels good. Sometimes it's nice just to write. Which I should probably look at doing more of, if I ever hope to be anything other than a bad writer.

So, readers, I will now torture you with every single thought that runs through my head, because I haven't really got any other form of constructive outlet for them.

Either a cafe needs to open up right by my house, or I need to move somewhere with independently-owned coffee shops. I also need to get a new working laptop, so I'm not confined to my desk. I think I've handled this bad reed switch situation a lot better than I thought I would, but it's impacting my creativity. Sitting around in a room populated almost exclusively by laundry probably stifles more than it inspires.

I've been exchanging emails with someone over the past week or so, and I haven't received one today (this waking cycle, anyway) and it's thrown off my routine more than I thought it would. Granted it's just an email, and considering how not close I am to the person I've been talking to, I still wish I'd gotten one. Oh well, I suppose i leaves me something to look forward to the next couple of times I go to check my emails.

Speaking of waking cycles, why do I go to bed at 11:30 thinking that my body's going to let me get a normal night's sleep? Of course I then wake up at 2, and can't get to bed. I work at 5 today (tomorrow) and I know I have to fit in a nap somewhere between now and then.

Okay, wow, so I just looked up and realized how idiotically long this post has become. So now I'm going to take my leave of it. As practice, maybe.

(DB) out.

Notable Diner Quotes

"Oh, you know what I hate? When little dogs smell of cheese." ~me

"It smelled like I'd just been sleeping, wrapped up in a zombie." ~Devlin

"Sexual etiquette 101: Always leave at least five minutes between coming and leaving the bitch in the fucking dust!" ~me

"XTig RAXX" ~everyone

"Dude, you got eyed up like a cat in a Thai food market." ~me

Discuss.

Do it. Take your mama out all night.

And I did, in a manner of speaking.

She was in some old photos I found whilst recovering my oldest hard drive yet. All my old pictures and music are now back. Last night was uneventul save for that.

I'm still elated about that. Every picture from late 2000 til now! Recovered! Giggity!

The gaping hole that Firefly left in my spirit has now been filled again, if only ephemerally.

Tonight, my friend Dave's cat decided to sit down with his junk square on my cell phone. We decided to call the phone, as it was on vibrate, and watch his cat rocket across the room. But, as soon as the call went through, the cat sat there and allowed my phone to intimately massage him.

Dave has the gayest cat ever.

I wish I had more profound things to say. But alas, I'm really, really tired. And I need to go clean off my cell phone. On that note, bonsoir.

(DB) out.

and the lord said...

thou shalt sleep until 4-fucking-pm.

and thy pants shalt fall nearly off as thou walketh inside from thy "morning cigarette."

and thou shalt never forget to put on a belt again.


In other news. not too much has been going on. I finished watching all of Firefly, and then finally Serenity, and there's a hole in my life where the promise of new episodes to watch used to be. Last night I watched the Discovery Channel and Ocean's Twelve, and it just wasn't the same as watching three or six episodes of Firefly at a time.

I should've known, though, that with 15 episodes, available in blocks of three each, it wouldn't have lasted very long anyway.

Other than that, I've been working, sleeping quite well, and playing the gee-tar.

I was supposed to go to the gym with Louise today, but I slept straight through her phone call, which was at... eww, 11:10? She should've known better. Hah. Although, last night, I did tell her just to "see if I'm conscious" before committing to anything. I don't know if I foresaw myself sleeping so late, or if I was subconsciously aware of that loophole and then allowed myself to sleep so late. Questions for the ages.

Tonight, I'm apparently going to see Lilu Dallas at Sonar, with everyone from the store. If I'm going anywhere, with any other human being in my presence, I need to go clean out my car, because it probably stinks.

(DB) out.

He lives!

After a brief hiatus due to:

1) drama with Nameless Boy that held true to my probability predictions
2) a pretty serious crash involving trying to put ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag (iLife '06, 500MHz G3)
3) picking up my damn guitar

I've returned. NB is totally done and over with, and I've been sleeping much better because of it. My computer lives once again, but it's seriously time for a new one, which should be happening around tax refund time. And I've missed my guitar so very much.

The question of the week for me is, do I want to join a gym? Do I really need to spend money I don't have so I can go and run on a treadmill and play with fancy weight machines, both of which can be easily substituted with free, home-brew exercise solutions?

All signs point to no, but we'll see where my checking account (HAH) points, and that will guide the final decision.

In a matter of hours, I have to go down to Bethesda. And I don't trust myself to wake up in four hours, so I think it might be another Super Sunday for me- no sleep until around 11:00 or noon.

My stomach is grumbling, and I don't feel like spending money to fix that. Unfortunate, because my house is entirely devoid of food. Fortunately, a pack of cigarettes costs much less than a meal, and works as an appetite suppressant.

If I had an armband, i'd probably go running right now, because I need something to do and I feel like I've got calories to burn. But running around while holding a hard drive based iPod = really bad idea. I don't need to land myself at the Genius Bar again due to an ill-conceived idea that seemed much better before it came crashing down on my head, and all the devices that I'd readily sacrifice my spleen to protect.

Yes, he lives, but is he really living? That's for you to decide.

And now, for your regularly scheduled insomnia,

(DB) out.

Requiem for a Dream

WARNING
The following post contains tons of bitterness, and probably, tons of idiocy.

Why do you get to keep me awake at night, when you've been out drinking and you've been asleep for hours?

Why is it that considering the fact that nothing I say to you is going to change you, and considering how you've acted in the past, plus considering my own thoughts, there's only a 0.06% chance of a mutually happy ending?

(Don't ask questions about how I got to that number. There's a method to the madness.)

And let's not even go into probability estimates as to whether or not you're going to call me and explain everything, as promised. The last time we'll speak most likely already happened.

And why is it, that in the face of those odds, I still retain hope? Why do you deserve any shred of optimism from me? What is it about you, and me, that makes me want to hold on so dearly?

Because despite my best attempts to dance around the word, I'm in love with you, and I desperately hope you just tell me what to go do with myself, because that'll be easier than wondering every waking moment whether or not you're a figment of my imagination.

What's there to wonder, you ask? I don't fall asleep thinking about someone who ignores me until it becomes convenient not to. I didn't make a mixtape for someone who I could envision using it as a coaster. Cell phone bills be damned. Even if you picked up the phone to tell me to fuck off and call you later, I'm sure you'd keep it under one billable minute.

If this is the person you are all the time, I'd rather hang on to the memories of the version of you who cared, file them under "We'll always have Paris," and get on with my life.

But as it stands, I don't know if I'll ever find out. Hah. Here I write this, probably... hmm... seven or eight hours before I masochistically attempt to call you and make sure we both understand what was said tonight, because even if you do, you've probably got no idea how to handle it.

And I don't care how much you say you want me in your life. If that's so goddamn true, start acting like it.

(DB) out.