self-titled: ^_^

well i'll be damned, i wrote an entry last night... don't remember that.

today, well, i spent most of the day watching porn. not alone, mind you. in the office, with a rotating cast of characters. katie was there the whole time, rich and amy for a big chunk, then carolyn for a big chunk later on, and i think dimitrios and diane caught some. It was some good, desensitized fun.

then i went to work, had to post fliers for ahana career services, so i didn't really work all that much. instead, i posted a few flyers, visited brenda in the bookstore, ate a leisurely dinner at mceleroy, and then chilled in the office a bit.

came home, dressed in my suit for coach leary's funeral, watched dawson's and felicity and now i find myself watching buffy.

and i wish i had more to say, but really i don't. this friday is still up in the air. the art punk and apparently unforgettable live show of les savy fav, or drinking and dressing up like super mario characters. damn my life.

so yesterday i went to class, and then during perspectives part 1, i wrote a note to katie saying that we should go do a power hour and then go to the evening class. after much convincing, i won, and we did a power hour and went to the 6pm session. it was surreal, me being drunk and at class. it felt like it was night time or something weird, i can't really put a finger on it but it was a singular experience.

after class i came home, grabbed dinner with brenda and then took a nap for 2 hours, made some ramen, and then bummed around and eventually watched two episodes of buffy with john.

when i was in tenth grade, in history class, we got a document - a copied page of something that thomas jefferson wrote. i looked at that page and fell in love with the handwriting, and devoted myself to learning to write how thomas jefferson wrote. so i copied the page letter by letter trying to emulate jefferson's handwriting. and then i took that page, and i reproduced the alphabet, letter by letter, capital and lowercase to fit his handwriting. and now when i write in cursive, which is rare to be sure, many of the letters have carried over.

i don't know why i share that right now.

today i went to work, did some shit, got a haircut which actually, for the first time ever at the place i go to, came out as i requested - probably because i didn't get irene to do it.

then i had rehearsal which went fine, oh i read some catch 22 first, and then after rehearsal went to mike's where all the bostonians watched the bostonians episode of the real world, on which fucking max glick was on tv more than i was. i mean seriously, what the hell is up with that?

afterwards i came up, drank in the room watching the game and listening to the radio show while looking at a poem, and then brenda left, and then tim left and then i was all alone and then blah blah blah.

i got some fan e-mail from a girl who i know must know me except i can't place the name, and i wrote an e-mail to brenda because my mom sent me some ims.

peace.

so it's been quite the week of self-inspection, eh?

i just looked at rick petillo's profile, and he offered this quote from machiavelli which seems thoroughly appropriate:

"Men in general judge more by the sense of sight than by the sense of touch, because everyone can see but only a few can test by feeling. Everyone sees what you seem to be, few know what you really are; and those few do not dare take a stand against the general opinion."

that fits in with what i wrote and moreso with some of the discussions i had on friday night and then again last.

And then there is mr Travis Morrison of the dismemberment plan, who's new CD i listened to yesterday after i left 31B a moody little bitch:

from sentimental man: "how do you know i'm not a sentimental man? is it really so hard to see these things? I guess it is."

goes along nicely with the machiavelli quote.

from superpowers: "i guess you could call it superpowers / but no one is going to save the world with what I've got." and that comes following a number of lines like " i have cried so hard for hours and not known why, I never do" and "i have felt such unreal pain and not known what to do, it isn't mine."

works along the narcissism tip of friday afternoon's entry.

And then from time bomb comes perhaps the best description of this web journal i've ever: "i am a lost soul and i send out a sickened light for anyone to see / a cry for help, a warning to stay away, a burning, blinding, bleaching, death mask white."

The CD is wonderful. not as wildly bouncy as some older d-plan tracks, but some of the strongest material the band has put together.

as for the rest of tonight, i have my chromatic midterm to tackle, and then a joint self-inspection meeting with brenda. then monda comes and sucks the life out of me until i get to come home a dick around for the rest of the night. woohoo.

anyway, dear readers

welcome to my head. it's a pretty wild place, and every now and then, like this weekend, i get compelled to clear it out and put it out there for all to see. and i still don't know how i feel about that, but i do it all the same. and i'm gonna peace out right now and work on music or watch buffy.

tired
cold
listening to sad and angry music, the same mix since last sunday.
drinking water out of a green cup
angry and confused, not fully understanding how much alcohol can really change a person
glad that BC won the game
still somehow able to conjure the smell of abercrombie 8
graduating in the spring
ignored
misunderstood
stealing this format from jude
tired
a genius
not changing my cologne
angry at travis morrison for writing such painful lyrics
not feeling like going out to the mods right now
really interested in seeing what phil elvrum looks like
jealous
petty
definitely not going out
tired of waiting
not deserving to wait
a better person than how I'm treated
wondering what it is about me that makes people feel like they can treat me like shit
not talking exclusively about any one person
very achey
angry that i'm too tired to go out
so tired of suggestive looks and words and actions
more tired of indifference
not sure about what i wrote yesterday afternoon and then evening
sure that something needs to change
dreading tomorrow as i've dreaded all but one day in the past week
going to sleep, hopefully waking up to a completely different world

ok, so i write my manifesto.

bought the new d-plan, mogwai, fugazi, les savy fav, pinback, and then richard ashcroft, something, something else, and the canadian school children since pop hits in 1974 album.

brenda never called, and you know what? fuck it. after cambridge i came home, kicked tara's ass in scrabble, got my jack-o-lantern costume on and went to butler's party. at butler's party i drank some and then called tara and talked to her for about 2 hours.

so an addendum to my huge manifesto.

shit. i forget what we talked about. but the drift of it was that i don't let people in. people are afraid to approach me because i judge and because i'm not willing enough to give back. i wish i was writing as we were talking because she brought up so many good points that i simply can't remember right now. she brought up the whole issue of me being desperate, and i tried to counter it with what i wrote at starbucks, but what it comes down to is nothing good comes from looking for it. and i've been looking for it too much and well, there's probabbly nothing good coming from it. fuck, we talked about a lot more than that. and it was all about me and my problems. the conversation was wonderful. tara challenged me every step of the way, and i loved it. she called me out on my pettiness and my irrationality and my idiotness.

basically, she said i'm a fuckup. and it's true. she said i don't let people in, and maybe it's not because, as i wrote earlier, that people don't want me in. that's my biggest thing. i really don't think people give a shit. i mean, i REALLY don't think that they do. and because i think this with such completeness, well, it shows. People look at me, and they see this cynical bastard, and they feel like they'll be judged, and they see this guy who isn't willing to show his feelings.

i mean, god damn it, what? trust me, i want people to understand me, i want people to listen, people to care. but apparently they won't at the rate i'm going.

i wish everyone thought like me. and i wish that then everyone would feel comfortable opening up with everyone else and it'd be this big happy thing. but instead, i feel like i'm better than people because i'm more in touch with myself. and i won't open up because all those others just don't get it. and they won't open up because i'm an asshole. and all i want to do is love people and share their problems and feel happy and sad for them.

i'm lonely.

and kate didn't fill that gap. and neither will brenda, unless she figures out what she wants. in fact, fuck, tara has filled it the most. because she's talked to me. she's made me feel like i'm not alone without making me feel like a used piece of shit.

i'm lonely but i'm not desperate. believe it, because it's true. i refuse to be desperate any longer than i have.

fuuuuck i don't know what more to say, i'm going to sleep.

I wrote this today and when I finished, I felt infinite. Like I had swallowed the universe and it was pulsing through my body. Then I read it and I realized what a joke I am. I had cranked out something so trite and so pretentious, it made me ill. But here it is anyway.

"So what's up. I'll say this straightaway, I am writing this under the guise that it's for me only, I don't see that happening.

It's Friday afternoon and I'm sitting in a starbucks in Harvard Square hopelessly awaiting a phone call that's not coming. I'm listening to Mum and already developing a hand cramp.

I'm planning on coming back into Cambridge later tonight for Death Cab, so what circumstances brought me here early? It was a gorgeous day, I had records to buy, and then only thing I wanted to do at school was talk to Brenda and she was out cold. But I'm not here to write bout Brenda, I've done enough of that in e-mails to her.

It's funny, on the bus ride here I wasn't thinking about my upcoming purchases, nor was I thinking about Brenda, I was doing my usual pre-writing of what I was going to write when I landed at Starbucks.

And of course it was fragmented as ever, I'd work on a sentence and it'd drift into another topic altogether. There's no outline, and there is no hope of organization.

Why do people write in journals and lock them away? That might be what I'm doing here: trying to understand that. Writing with the mindset that this is for an audience of one: me. but I still don't get it. Why pour out pages and pages of internalization only to keep it internalized elsewhere. Maybe it's the act of reaching in oneself and pulling out the fragments one by one and freeing them from bumping, twisting, covering, shattering other ones. I guess that must be it, but really how much less fragmented is a cluttered page of stream of consciousness/ For each line I fill I can turn and go in a completely different direction, and then from that direction I can split more ways and for what? You can never exhaust your thoughts. You just start repeating them in slightly different structures. Nothing ever becomes clear it just becomes a mess on paper instead of your head.

So why write at all? Write to share. That's what I do. I know the things flying around my head, putting them down doesn't help me at all. So you share. Give it to the people who care about you, give it to the people who you want to understand.

Or maybe I just feel that way because I am a goddam genius and to not share my mind is doing the world harm.

That's right: I'm a goddam genius. I sit here in starbucks listening to brilliant icelandic electronica that I appreciate, writing down brilliant words like a man possessed. I have appreciation for things, understanding of things, passions for them that so few do.

Honestly, what am I? Am I just a total fucking pompous self-righteous self-important fucker? Is it wrong, is it incorrect of me to look at other people and know that I'm so much deeper than they are? Well shit, obviously I know so much of our depth is not on display to others, but can I look at someone random and for a second believe that he is a deep person with sensitivity, concerns, fears and desires? No. So many people are so damn one-dimensional. No one has my thoughts. No one can be filled by music and moved to tears by the sheer power pulsing through them like I can. And of course I know that people really can, but not enough of them. For every person that is like me, that comes close to me, there are hundreds of flat, sitcom characters.

AHHHH this is maddening! Do I Believe this?

It's hard not to believe it on some level. In our lives, how many people do we meet, who we get to know, get to see inside even the tiniest percentage of how well we know and see ourselves?

Too damn few. None as well. 1 or 2 if we're lucky that comparison is even worth it. And all of us, I think enough people that we can recognize them as having some depth.

But everyone else: sitcom characters. Voices on the radio. Sidekicks in the movies. We laugh at them, we get angry, we sometimes relate, but mainly they just exist in our life as decoration. And it's good to have the decoration, because honestly, what's a film without the comic relief, the bully, the guy on the corner selling hot dogs. It'd be a boring movie without the extras and the lesser supporting characters, but without the hero and the villain and the love interest, you have nothing but a vapid, even if busy and brightly colored, backdrop.

But then, to extend the film metaphor, you have the way I feel sometimes: Me, acting against a blue screen that's never filled in.

I'm about to start circling, so I'm going to have a smoke and gather my thoughts.

Dammit. I had one drag left and some dude asked for a light, and I didn't want to be rude and take the drag and blow the smoke in his face. SO I threw the butt got the lighter and now all I want is that last drag. I almost sparked up another. but I didn't.

So I decided outside that I'm posting this. And what's the worst, I come off as a big cynical misanthropic asshole. I've been down that road. But I don't care because I'm right. I'm right because I have it in perspective.

If you're offended by what you've read, hurt, angry, whatever, step away from the situation and look at it in reverse. How well do you know me? How much have you tried to understand me? How far out of your way have you gone to reach out and how far have you gone out of your way to me when I reach out to you? How well do I know you? How much have you reached out to me so that I can know you? I'm not writing this to anyone in particular, and I'm not writing it so it only pertains to me. I am every person, and the audience is also every person. I'm the hero writing to the villain. I'm the love interest writing to the supporting character. I'm the extra writing to another extra's extra. And in each scenario, the one writing is the hero in a whole other unrelated movie.

But, and here I go contradicting myself, I'm also the her. I'm the universe. me me me. this is the narcissism that accompanies genius. The narcissism only rivaled by the hideous hatred of oneself.

I've come under fire recently. I've been told that I'm shortsighted, that because for so long I've been looking for someone, that I think I find it at every step. Well DUH. of course. Of course of course of course. Of course this is how it fucking works. Everyone is looking, unless they've found someone, and if they've found someone they keep working it until one day the fragments have exhausted into too short a circle. There's every chance the guy who served me coffee could become my best friend. He asked what I wanted, I said small coffee, he said $1.53, I handed him $2, I got change he said thanks have a great day I said thanks, you too. And at that point, it ended, I know that it was time to move on. I had nothing left to say and neither did he. Our business was finished. I keep looking. You meet someone, you talk to them, you see what you have to talk about and you decide if there is more or if you go talk to someone else. So yeah, whatever I'm looking and I've been looking. I was looking last year. And sometimes when we're looking we look real hard and try anything. Kate last year. She created so many fragments in my jumbled head and I think I made a few in hers. And I picked them out and threw them at her for a long while. Time passes as it does, and the I like you fragments exhausted themselves into a recognizable and discardable loop. I was looking very hard and found something and went through with it and learned that this is not the love interest. And now she lives across the hall and is a wonderful supporting character.

Regrets, I've had a few. Do I regret last spring's Kate saga? Some aspects of course. I certainly regret the desperation that I give off, but I can't change the fact that I want very much to find that two-way channel of desiring to know and understand. I feel foolish for the road I traveled, but not for the trip itself and not for its destination.

What the hell am I getting at? ah yes blinding desperation, wanting something too much and for the wrong reasons. bullshit. I may be eager but I'm certainly not ignorant. I'll be damned if I'm told I'm missing the obvious because I don't... remember earlier? I'm a deep, misunderstood but amazing in-tune genius. I don't misinterpret words and actions. If Kate wants to tell me I was an idiot for holding on to hope last year, well, she can but she's wrong. For I am the universe, I see through lies and fears and hesitation and see truth, longings and curiosity. And when it's over, I can weigh them all and know that things ended up all right.

Why have I been given this curse. Is it a gift? why only me. I just realized something about that whole Kate story. It doesn't work. no, it does. Here's why I thought it didn't: because if through all that time there was reason for me to hold on, then why now that nothing came from it should I have held on at all? It seems pretty broken logic, huh? Well, I offer you this: I know now that Kate and I are friends, supporting characters to each other's hero. I know that I don't want to curl up next to her and read a book or be the last person she says goodnight to. it just took me a long time to figure it out because she didn't know, or at least wasn't 100% sure and really didn't want to find out. If she wanted to find out, we would've found out sooner.

And through that whole ordeal, I am the stupid, pitiable character because I want to find out. You take a base or you don't, don't keep hitting fouls and taking time-outs.

So this is my manifesto to the world, as well as to every individual. Know what you want to be. Don't be angry for being called someone's extra when you've cast them as the same in your own movie. And don't deny that your movie needs all 3 tiers of characters and then refuse to hold auditions. Know what you want, know what you don't - don't have bogus casting calls and don't look the other way when someone auditions. Get out of your head, don't deliver monologues on a closed set in front of a broken bluescreen. It could be the greatest story ever told, but not if no one hears it.

-bp"

Last night in my dreams, first i died in a car crash, and then later i died at the hands of 3 very weird looking bears. i really wish i knew what was going on.

The Se7en showing went well last night. I went as Wrath, and Darren just thought I was really pissed off. Mike won the costume contest as he was the only one who actually dressed up.

Today I classed and worked and rehearsed and ate and then cancelled rehearsal and watched survivor.

God damn is that show good. I was pretty warm to it last week, but this week is when it really grabbed me. It was just spectacular. I love the boran tribe and everything about it, and i love the unbelievable drama in the other tribe. and there are lions and wildebeasts and elephants and giraffes and eskimos and pygmies and cannibals and it's just grrrrreat.

notice i said "grrrrrreat." I reverted into a talking lion because i am so hyped on the show.

tomorrow i think i go to buy cds, go see death cab, and generally try to fend off misery by spending money and hearing depressing indie rock music. ah shit.

actually, i'm really psyched for the cds. new d-plan, new les savy fav, new pinback, the canadian grade school sings hits from the 60s and 70s cd, new fugazi, some white stripes 7"s, and probably some more shit i'm forgetting about. i'm mad psyched.

dunno about death cab, it'll be a long night if i make it out there, and i'll probably have to cab it. but after listening to the photo album a whole bunch, i really really want to see them, and it'll be fun i guess.

now time for some hardcore computer games.

peace.

Fancy this, I actually have things to write.

First off, christ, where to begin, it's been 3 days? Umm, I guess Sunday night works. Rehearsal went well, and then I studied for my perspectives quiz with katie, and by studied, i mean that i copied the proofs out of the book and left in disgust. Then I came home and made a mix for myself, because I felt like it. You can check it out here. I did it because i was sitting around and the Smiths' "Cemetry Gates" came on and I was inspired.

I had a fair amount of difficulty falling asleep that night. Then monday i went to class, took my test, rocked it, and came home and played computer for a while, and then katie came over to get the survivor tape and then tim's brother jeff administered some haircuts, and some drinking was had, i scored a ticket to counting crows, and a group of us left.

the first band was nice but boring and one song was a blatant rip off of "karma police" and then the crows peaked with their third song, "mr. jones." I dunno, i just wasn't feeling them at all, brenda and i left towards the end of the set, saw kate getting handcuffed and walked back in disbelief. you'll notice that i used the name "brenda" in the same sentence as myself when describing walking from some place. Well yeah, things were worked out. Or where they? Stay tuned as the saga unfolds.

Tuesday morning rolled around and then so did work. and then came tuesday evening. at rehearsal, katie jokingly suggested we do a powerhour. i kept her to it. we got beer, i made volume three, and tim katie sarah and i got wasted. i was way ahead of pace, i believe final was 8 or 9 for the hour which is ridiculous. I found out i'll be going to death cab on friday alone and then i collapsed in bed around 1.

It was weird. I had a dream last night where i was at some show in nyc, and sean was there, and he jokingly put my arm around this random girl, and it stayed there. and then we walked aroudn the venue, which was the middle east downstairs on crack, and we got a peak at Conner Oberst (bright eyes), and then i made some crack about how all the girls love conner, and then we left. Here's the weird thing: i checked the middle east schedule page today and saw that a bright eyes show just got added. i've never even heard a bright eyes song, so why the hell was he in my dream?

next weird thing is that we were leaving the concert, and some guy tried to kill me.

I dreamt monday night that some guy killed a lot of people i knew and tried to kill me.

I also dreamt monday night that i fell on concrete and missed cracking open my skull by two inches.

I dreamt on Sunday night that someone tried to kill me.

Then on Monday morning, i started thinking about how when i die i don't want to be buried. The thought of being buried creeped the shit out of me. What was even more creepy is that for the first time ever, i actually really thought about me as a dead person.

Also, for some reason i've started wearing all black with white makeup. Actually not, but at least then i could explain this whole death and dying phenomenon.

it's 4:05, i have work in 25 and i've eaten nothing today. whoops.

I'm showing Se7en tonight, should be good. I've instructed people to come dressed as their favorite deadly sin for a costume contest after the movie that i will be judging. Also, there's dawsons and felicity tonight. Woohoo.

OK, i need to eat.

"This Isn't Going To Work" ... and other dull platitudes and empty assertions

it's my latest project. As the title suggests, it is a collection of dull platitudes and empty assertions that i have run across in my travels and then compiled and annotated for readers everywhere. My favorite part of it is the chapter entitled "We both know..." Also notable is the stark juxtapositions of conflicting words and conflicting actions in "i want this to be special." The section with the most biting criticism is of course the chapter "The Wrong Reasons." Other highlights: "Hooking up is easy," "I should've stopped it long ago," and so many more that i really shouldn't be giving out for free. I'm currently shopping for a published, drop me a line if you can help out.

As is apparent from friday's entry as well as this one, this hasn't been the greatest of weekends. The rug came out and I fell hard on my back. It's weird, because that whole rug thing is strictly metaphorical, and yet i have this awful bruise on my back and i have no clue where it came from...

i saw this coming, i foreshadowed it in this journal recently, i almost wrote and one point "Things are going too well, I've always said I deserve things to work out, but now that they are i'm uneasy. It's largely guilt. That's right, i'm guilty that things are working out for me. It's like a freshly released criminal being given the keys to the city. It doesn't make sense. Except i'm no criminal, i've done nothing wrong, I just hate myself too much to be happy without suspecting something's awry." But i didn't write it because it didn't seem right to print and i didn't want to jinx myself. oh well.

the wound on my hand won't heal and band-aids won't stay on.

we boys got up early yesterday to play beirut, i got incredibly drunk, john's mom played a game and sank the winning cup. The BC trounced Pitt and I left at halftime. I played afghan whighs really really loud and slept for 3 hours or so. and then i got up and watched the notre dame game probably, got miserable, chain smoked outside for a bit, turned on cex really loud and lay in bed, got some beirut going which cleared my mind. or fogged my mind, either way it was good. The posse went to sland3 and i was in a great mood, no clue why, played some kings, had fun, was essentially told to fuck off, and i left - extremely angry and extremely drunk. Got home, talked to a stuffed animal, and passed out around 12:30.

And now it's sunday, and i dread bostonians rehearsal. i dread my quiz tomorrow. i dread bostonians rehearsal on tuesday and then on thursday and then on sunday again. i need to breathe. my life is an assault and i wish it was giving me some room.

despite going to bed pretty drunk and really late last night, i woke up this morning without a hangover and without being tired at all.

I went to class, studied for my test, took my test and i think it went alright, i mean it all really depends on what he's looking for, how he grades, what kind of partial credit he gives and how well i knew the shit. then i went to perspectives and that sucked and then i went to work and that sucked too and then i met katie and we went down to cleaveland blah blah blah.

i remember now, during chromatic, i realized i'm getting really into this shit. gawlick played some mozart piece on the piano and i really wanted to play it. he played some sonata last week and i brought it home and played it. i apparently want to start playing piano again, and i want to play classical music because it's so good. it's weird.

anyway, at cleaveland circle, i ate presto's and katie bought beer, and we brought it back, and then i went next door and watched dawson's and felicity with tara and i drank some. and then was movie night, the movie was sleeper, the audience was dimitrios, katie, tim and darren. the movie went over well. everyone was laughing really hard for the first part and i felt a grand sense of accomplishment.

then the movie ended and we sat watching rap videos for an hour. and then the countdown ended and now umm, i don't know. i guess i should go to bed soon, eh?

i am a pathetic waste of human life. I was in bed until 2 today. Well, 1:45, but it may as well have been two o'clock. It's just terrible. Saturday was till noon. When I got up, everyone was in my room dead asleep, so as not to disturb them, i went across the hall where no one was and i watched two episodes of Drew Carey. Then i came back home and they were up, and i showered and started drinking and watching football. BC got shellacked against Va Tech, and at halftime, some beirut started. team lanky lost our 4th game, and then christina and I shut-out kate and tara and then lost to someone. and then a couple rounds of Kings were played with tim tara sean o and kate. After kings, oh we also had wings, anyway, our room was a fucking shithole. beer cans everywhere, wings on the floor, papers and cds strewn about. It's a bit cleaner now, but wow, was it a mess. we all left for some parties, i ended up walking around brighton following people from party to party on the phone with brenda, apparently things weren't that kicking because no one stayed at any one place for very long. It's funny, i was outside for so long, it's just amazing how many people you run into that you know. I walked home after trying to go the sean's and finding todd alone, ready for bed. apparently the party moved elsewhere, good enough for me. got to bed at around 4 or something dumb like that.

I forget if i talked about thursday, so i'll talk about friday. After class I came home, drank some beers and buffied it up. then went to our show. it was not the bostonians' finest hour, but i was trashed and that's life was a work of art. after our set, katie and I booked it to the wang center. The cabbie asked if we were parents and then asked what movie was playing at the Wang, and it was bizarre. we got there early enough to know that matmos probably wasn't worth busting our asses to see, but also late enough so that we weren't forced to sit through their entire set. their stuff on disc i've heard has been good, it has beats and innovation and stuff, but their live set was just slow and random.

bjork: 1 - frosti / overture / all is full of love / generous palmstroke / unravel / pagan poetry / cocoon / undo / play dead // 2 - you've been flirting again (icelandic) / isobel / anchor song (icelandic/english) / i've seen it all / army of me / hyperballad / bachelorette // e - joga / human behavior // e2 - in our hands

the first set was largely from vespertine and was largely very calm and serene and vespertinish. second set came out and grabbed us by the balls. the electronic stuff was just huge and in your face, and all the matmos contributions were placed around the four corners of the theatre and it was great. bjork was, well, cute as hell. she didn't speak much, but when she did it was so cute, and then she'd prance around and be all bjorkish and god she ruels. hyperballad and the unreleased in our hands were my favorites. hyperballad was like the album, with some orchestra flourishes, katie and i were hoping she'd do part of it with full out orchestra like the telegram remix, but it still ruled. the orchestra was tight. joga was great with only orchestra accompanyment. there was a choir of 10 innuit greenland girls, and they were mostly used for the first set, and also for isobel and then they had a crucial patty-cake role in in our hands. the show was awesome, and i've already forgotten it cost me $70.

We t'd it home, and then went to sean's still in our formal wear. there was a mass of people on the front steps. i went in, shed my jacket, hung out in sean's room a bit and then went out to the porch and hung with mike lori and katie. then the cops came, to little surprise. they weren't there for anything other than breaking up the party, and as far as i know the resident, "sean myers" as christina so deftly made up, is in no trouble.

but regardless, the party was now a wash. we bussed home, i came home, brenda was back from dracula, i dragged her to 830, some beirut was had with tim, then kate came back, then left, then john and darren got home in fine form, then they went their ways, and i went mine.

and that takes us to saturday morning, of which i've already talked. so then to today. after i got up, i did my late business systems homework, well on my way to becoming a VB and Access god, and then i went to rehearsal, we got some solid work done on ready to run. i went to late night, which was having some bizarre night of sub standard fried food, and then back home, saw a wint-o-green lifesaver spark. it's a dim blue phosphor glow, and i think i was too far away when looking at the mirror to see it go, but it works, and i know it now for sure.

then came ice cream night with the boys, and now i'm here, doing this and then making my homework look pretty and then probably some ready. the power and the glory has gotten a bit more enjoyable.

yesterday was thursday. that's interesting to note because, well, it's really not interesting at all.

It was however the season premiere of Survivor Africa. Survivor rules. I like the goat farmer and lex and don't like a few people and am ambivalent to most. it was a good start, i mean, i'm not all worked up yet because i really don't know everyone, but hell, it's survivor.

Afterwards, uhh, umm, i went next door and read. I finished end of the affair on wednesday, it was a spectacular book. Far better than the movie, but the movie still rules. Then yesterday, after chorale (where we got conned into staying and stuffing envelopes and sean and i stuffed 2 envelopes each and had 3 pieces of pizza) i went outside and began reading augustine's confessions. Which really, isn't all that bad. So i brought that over, and i got yelled at for reading confessions and then tara brought me another Graham Greene novel: the power and the glory, it hasn't grabbed me yet, but again, I knew the story to the last one, and anyway, Tara says it takes a while. So i'll stick it out. Then, I helped Brenda with her music theory and then i went to bed.

Went to theory having not showered this morning, since i was in bed close to 4. then uhh, who knows, some blah blah blah and a little more blah and some more blah. came back home, started laundry, saw brenda off for the weekend and now i'm listening to jude and daniele's radio show drinking beer. But the country block just started, so i think i'll be switching to buffy soon.

bostonians show tonight, and then katie and i get to see bjork. it should be unreal. 54 piece orchestra, 12 piece choir, harpist, throat singer, matmos, and bjork. mmmmmmm.

hmm hmm hmm, at work on tuesday, i listened to a couple albums, the modest mouse EP was a disappointment, the new death cab for cutie ruled. unfortunately, i lost the AR to a computer crash, but for the most part, the sad northwest sound is gone, death cab has learned how to rock out. the lyrics throughout are absolutely great, there are some really powerful songs, including one about a bastard father which was just devastating. yeah ben gibbard. the sad stuff isn't completely gone, but mostly, the sadness has changed into bitterness. lots of themes about trying to forget. great stuff. Also listened to the new Dylan. Dylan is a man existing out of time. The album is a lot of straight up, ass-kicking blues rockers. But why? It feels so out of place. Time out of Mind succeeded because it wasn't recalling the Dylan from the 60's. The album isn't bad, there's some great tracks, and the last track is a slower one that is just heartbreaking. But Highway 61 and Blonde on Blonde and the like are timeless because they were made in the 60s. This album was made in 2001, it just doesn't sit right.

We rehearsed, I got yelled at by Mike because he was running the show getting really stressed about the song he was teaching and I was goofing around, after I delivered a speech about not goofing off. I was setting a horrible example, but I'm running that show every rehearsal and every concert, it's a lot to fucking do, and last night i got to go on autopilot. Oh well, I'm not overly concerned, I got it out of my system - maybe.

Then back home, listened to the radio show, played beirut with Tim, got my back wrecked as i sit against the cement hallway wall talking to Brenda.

Today I slacked, classed, napped, went to work, ran around like the bitch to ahana career services that I am, layed down a sweet rap, started concentrated on the tindersticks album, but then Brenda came. I tried to make a wint-o-green lifesaver spark, and it didn't work, and brenda tried to tell me that it's not lifesavers, it's the breathsavers with flavor crystals, and that's blatantly wrong, i need to get it to work so I can be redeemed. Anyway, with brenda there, I kicked work early and went to lower and ate with her and Fasano. Then came dawson's and felicity, strong showings for both, and then back to 830 for Movie Night. Three Kings was the movie, the attendance was 6 or so, and people dug it. It's such a good movie, it really gets better with every viewing.

and now what? i dunno. it's early and my 12 is cancelled tomorrow. being a resourceful lad, I'm sure I'll find something to do. At it probably rhymes with "muffy."

ok, i just hit the lifesaver with a fucking hammer. No sparks. Nabisco is getting a piece of my mind.

la la la

saturday was gorgeous. I got a haircut and then drove around side streets with the windows down blasting kleenex girl wonder. Then i came home and i don't remember. I drove with sean and brenda to blockbuster and mcdonald's, then a lot of beer was bought, oh yeah earlier in the day i worked on power hour #6. Which we did, adam katie mike oly sean me tim brenda jeff tara and i drank a lot. and then we played flip cup. And then we started to play kings and i was like "uh-uh" and then my body said "hey, surprise, you know all that beer you were drinking? here, take it back! and the same goes for that fucking mcdonalds! you should eat healthy, you know."

Sunday i took my time waking up, then showered, did laundry, got dressed, and drove out to wellesley to bartend for TIM's aunt's party. It was a fine time, i poured a lot of wine and made a few drinks for a bunch of old people. Walked away with $80 which aint' too shabby. Came home, drove to the buster of block, then came home again and basically fucked around for a long while when i should've been doing work. Eventually got my work done and went to bed around 4:30 because i was across the hall, which once mouths start opening and vocal chords begin producing noise, can prove to be a huge timesink. Also, it WAS a sunday, which, throughout the year has far and away been my latest night of the week.

Today today today, classed, didn't class, came home, footballed, and read. read the first chapter of this book teach has been going on and on and on about and it's pretty damned interesting. And then i started reading a book my mom gave me way back at the beginning of the year, which , in the 15 pages or so i've read, seems like it may be alright.

ok, off to read more and possible write. i have a story due monday and i desperately need something great to write about.

by the way, the notwist album, neon golden, totally rules me. i've listened to it well over fifteen times since the train ride home.

Just read something in this book that i really enjoyed, so here it is, as i may want to refer to it tomorrow and may very well forget i read it:

"there's something erotic about the act of teaching, all that information streaming back and forth like some ... bodily fluid. Doesn't Genesis trace sex to that first bite of apple, not the fruit from just any tree, but the Tree of Knowledge?"

yeah, my mom gave me a book about fucking chickens and a professor who masturbates during office hours, what a nut.

Friday went pretty much as i predicted: I drank. But where did I drink? I went to Toben's, stuck around ever-so-briefly, and then went to the choralish party, played some kings, and then kicked it to tara's friends birthday party. Immediately upon arriving (tara nowhere to be found) brenda got yelled at by someone, and then brenda, her friend Jen(n) and myself poured beers on the rug, because, well, i don't know, but it was great fun. I suppose we went home after that.

then saturday i was up nice and early to begin playing beirut. tim made eggs, and i ate the eggs and drank some beer. Tim and I played some one on one with one cup each as we waited a long time for Collier to get here with the new Solo cups. Then some beirut was played, and then i proctored a power hour across the hall. Funny, i don't remember going to the game. At all. I suppose I was there, and we beat Temple. Oh yeah, i had a pretzel, ok, there it is. I left around the fourth quarter or something, came home and apparently took a nap. Woke up a bit later, had a shower, got gayed up for the glitter and glam party, complete with glitter in my hair and what not.

We went, brenda and i spent most of the night at the bar being decadent, and then there was a beauty pageant and it was good fun. That Adam knows how to throw a party. At some point, Brenda and I left to go the dave's next store, ran into my boys and what not. had some beers, then brenda and i walked back home, which apparently took us over an hour, but I didn't really notice. Then some sleep was had.

sunday sunday sunday. I had ramen and then went to bostonians rehearsal which was eh. THen i ran back home, waited for brenda to get ready, and then we headed down to cambridge for the rock show. I got mcdonald's first, which was heavenly. We got in, the secrets had just started, they were fun, a bit less hip looking than I expected. They ended, i met them all, Sea Navy came out, and for the first part it was a dude whining on an acoustic guitar and it sucked, but then he plugged in and got some drums for a few songs, and that was much better. Then came Mates of State. This was a wonderful surprise. A guy and girl, guy on drums, girl on an organ. They sing together. It's kind of emo-ish, lots of meter and key and form changes, but not so whiney. it was just awesome, they seemed so wonderfully into the music. Then they left and I bought a CD, I took 257 seconds. or it may have been 259. Anyway, soon Beulah took the stage, and we only caught 3-4 songs, because we decided the party would be weird and were thus connected to the T. Beulah was great, really high energy rock/pop. 6 dudes, 2 keyboards or something, 2 guitars/1 trumpet, and bass. I love trumpet in songs. Would've been nice to hear more from them, but the MBTA blows and i no tengo un caro.

We came back, caught the last third of holy grail, which was just too goddam funny, and then i slept.

And now today, got up relatively early, watched trashy talk shows with the boys and then showered and now i'm doing this. My plans: buffy, buffy, buffy, buffy, perhaps some more buffy, and then hopefully back into Cambridge to purchase CDs unnecessarily and then see the Apartment.

wednesday: uhhh.

uhhhh.

uhhhh............

i have absolutely no recollection of what happened on wendesday. i imagine i went to class, and then, umm.... shit. oh yeah. wait. did i already write about wednesday? i think i did.

this whole not writing every night thing is totally screwing with me.

so anyway, thursday i uhh, went to class, work, rehearsal, dinner with mike sean and lex, then rehearsal, then back home with sean. went to watch tim and darren play softball, and then i came back, i nursed mighty whitey (our ping pong ball) back to health by boiling it in water. and then sean and i played a one on one game of beirut and then a lot more beirut followed, involving the usual suspects. then i went to bed and fell asleep and then as i was nicely asleep, the fucking fire alarm went off completely disturbing my life.

today, i hung out, did laundry, read, rearranged the common room, drank a bit, and then the seniors went out to ground round with the new bostonians and we had lots of good food, fun and conversation blah blah blah. it was really a nice time, even though i ate nothing all day, i was still unable to finish my food, but whatever. then mike bought my room some thirties, i came back, hung out and played a horrible game known as charades across the hall, and now i'm just chilling out till mike calls me so we can go to the tobenators birthday party. also, after dinner, we ran into hans at supercuts getting a rock star haircut.

so tonight i drink. tomorrow i drink drink drink, go to the football game and then drink drink drink some more. sunday who knows until later when i see the secrets, some other bands and beulah with brenda at the middle east, and then monday perhaps shopping and then i go see the apartment at the brattle.

oh yeah, i don't think i talked about movie night. end of the affair was well-received by all but katie, who is dumb, and tara, who has had the book gone over to the point that she's obsessive. everyone else liked it well enough. darren had a good comment, "it was great, and then the movie fell in love with itself and kept on going." i'll agree to a certain extent, it is a bit long and drawn out, but whateve,r it's a great story. i've been reading the book and i must say, to a stupid person like me, the two are quite simliar.

ok, peace out.

monday: got up early to go to sing for amy's class, it was fine, whatever. Then i had a systems analysis test which was largely cake. then, uhhh, oh yeah, work. Read a good deal of AHWOSG, then went to the office and read a good deal more outside in the quad, then some shitty dinner and rehearsal. I then went to Rob Chi's and did my business systems homework and then home for some good old-fashioned drinking. john's brother called the show with an entertaining prepared bit on the upward mobility of cereal characters, and then there was a lot more drinking, and some forgetting, and some music theory homework, and then another very very very late bedtime.

Today chugged along normally, katie and i kept ourselves entertained for the first part of perspectives watching some dude seriously struggling to stay awake, it was wildly fun. but then he apparently kicked his tiredness and the rest of class was unbearable. And Hibbs says the word "measure" like this: "MAYzhure." It's f'n bizarre.

I went to work, finished the book, which was really quite exceptional. Once again, i see so much of my own thoughts echoed in these first person writings. This one especially. He's equal parts pompous as hell and self-loathing. it's a nice viscious circle that he did an amazing job of putting down on paper. Also, a common topic he had was why he felt ok baring his soul to the world. Why he doesn't feel ashamed or wary to type his thoughts, as frightening and disconcerting as they may be. Someone can know your most embarrassing secrets, your most awful thoughts, and what have they gained? Are you made worse for them knowing? are they made better? Eggers kept saying it's like the primitive people who fear having their picture taken for fear that it will take their souls. It's ridiculous. Granted, I haven't been entirely personal or anything more cursory than just simple day write-ups lately, but still, I know what's up. Anyway, the book rules. I'm passing it on to Katie now, but I urge you all to get your hands on a copy and spend a couple of days with it.

Back home, i had spaghetti across the hall, katie brought us beer, i went to lower with brenda, and now i'm gonna go watch the west wing perhaps and then it will be movie night. I'm showing the end of the affair.

we had a cappella fest last night, i think it went pretty damn well. People seemed to love the beautiful day. then i came back and uhh, well, the sharps were having a party and mike told me i needed to go for good PR. So, begrudgingly, i went. and i'm glad i did, because i had a decent time watching drew and some sharps girl dance ridiculously. I got a little buzzed and then came back and helped brenda with her key signatures.

woke up today, cursed the morning and went to chromatic. Then uhh, worked the bostonians table for activities day and it was cold, and then my 3 and 6 got cancelled and that was wonderful, so i came home and napped to chippaquiddick syline. then i went next door and read a bunch from dave eggers' a heartbreaking work of staggering genius, which is shaping up quite well. Then i kicked tara's ass in a pretty sad game of scrabble, and then did a little bit of studying for my systems analysis test tomorrow. then brenda's friend kay came, and she brought me faint posters and we talked about music and now she's here looking at weird web comics.

tomorrow i have to sing for amy's dumb class thing, then my test, then work, rehearsal, then drinking for the big radio show with tim. woohoo.