self-titled: ^_^

the bug is dead.  i'm almost sure of it.

at work today, i got paid as i looked for other jobs.  actually, not really, but i was checking out harvard's job listings and saw a bunch of accounting stuff in the payroll and accounts payables and receivables that i'm certainly qualified for.  i saw that, "certainly qualified for" because i am.  but really?  am i?  i wouldn't hire me.  for anything.  i'm goddam 20 years old.  i don't know when people feel that they're ready to have a job, but i certainly don't feel it.  I'm not supposed to have a job, even if it is only 30k a year, it's just too much for me to comprehend.  but as soon as i whip up a convincing cover letter i'm sending my damn resumes off to harvard and maybe something'll happen and then maybe, just maybe, i'll get to do natalie portman. 

came home and gamed it up and then brenda and i went to see about a boy at harvard.  really enjoyed it.  hugh grant is awesome and he was an asshole the whole way through, which is simply great.  it was no y tu mama tambien, but you can't compare movies like that. 

also, i was driving home from work and got stopped on comm ave by a cop.  i was doing 40 in a 30.  whatever.  it was one of those "pull over two cars at once" deals.  i got off with a warning but still... really?

my right nostril is clogged to hell.  i want it to shrivel up and die.  screw what it'd look like.

man, this is the worst.  zbc played a song yesterday: sexual harrassment - if i gave you a party.  and i love it.  and i want it.  but of course finding the mp3 is impossible because no one in their right mind has the mp3.  so my option is to buy this goddam anti ny comp it's on for $16.  too bad the rest of the comp i've either not heard or have heard and am totally not thrilled by.  although one of the songs has the exact same background as the talking heads' crosseyed and painless.  i guess maybe i could buy the 10" ep for less $s, but my record player is not set up and not so great. 

Well this is ghetto.  i found a real audio radio show that played the song, so i can record that.  shit quality tho.  oh well, beats sixteen bucks.  this song rules.  yay 80s punk no-wave disco electro funk whatever the hell this is.  hmm, i thought there was screaming in this song.  hmm, bastard dj cut it off.  oh well, it still rules. 

today was rather uneventful.  woke up to my shelf crashing down and breaking bottles.  that was eventful i guess, and of course, my dream instantly tailored itself to it.  i was driving in a parking garage and had a car crash.  so waking up to the sound of a huge crash and breaking glass scared the hell out of me.  i've talked before (or if i haven't, i've thought before) about how weird it is that your dreams tailor themselves on the fly to what's happening in the outside world.  it's amazing really, and really throws something out there: dreams don't happen real time.  what takes minutes in our dream world is really only happening in mere seconds.  how else does the dream set itself up to react to what happens instantaneously in the real world.  it's fascinating and i want to take a cognative psych class, or at least learn more about this stuff.

so after that the day proceeding normally.  wake, work, home, games.  then at 9:25 adam ims me responding to my previous im suggesting we see y tu mama tabien soon.  at 9:30 he was outside picking me up and we drove down to kendall.

the movie was spectacular.  yet another foreign film that i've wanted to see for a long time and then finally do and it's just like holy shit, why'd i wait.  amelie was the first.  and this was a wholly different picture than amelie.  amelie was magical, this was real.  so real.  and never forced, and never took itself more seriously than it needed.  everything just unfolded naturally and the end result is a movie that is just really effective and serious and just great.  it's about two mexican high school kids taking a compulsive road trip with a woman ten years their senior.  and it's all about self discovery, both individually and with relationships.  god it was good.  and bar none the most explicitly sexual movie i've ever seen.  not depravedly sexual, not erotically sexual.  no glamour and no trash.  i'm tempted to use the word sterile because everything that happened it wasn't anything to take notice, but it wasn't sterile.  it was just grounded, not even grounded - it was free, liberating, it was real and it was celebratory.  that's the word, celebratory -- awkward, intimate, frightening, embarrassing, triumphant all these 2 cent adjectives rolled into this sexual freedom that wasn't tied down and was never anything but what it was supposed to be. and the whole movie worked on this level, not just the sex.  granted, it's easier to pull off when you're not dealing with high production values and clean cuts and soundtracks and shit like that, but even the grittiest hand-held independent movies still have a feeling of being a movie sometimes.  blah blah blah.  here i go saying a lot and nothing at all.  so i'll just say y tu mama tambien comes with my highest recommendations.  the old maxim (and rush song) goes show me don't tell me, and you'll find few movies that tell you as much as this one did without once falling into exposition or manipulation.  god it was great.

also, i knew i recognized julio, he was in amores perros. 

also, i forgot to mention last night.  i did the whole setup with the bug in the bucket and the lysol and then forgot the payoff.  when i came home after 8 hours or so at lori's, i went to the bathroom and saw that the bug had moved.  i grabbed the lysol and sprayed it and the fucker moved, so i gave him another downpour.

when i just got back from the movie now, the goddam thing had moved again.  so i gave him some more medicine, kicked the bucket and watched the fucker crawl around a little more.  i'm like kevin spacey in se7en, keeping that poor diseased bastard alive day in and day out.  except unless lysol has some sustaining properties i'm not aware of, this sonuvabitch is breaking all the rules and is a superbug and should be long dead by now.  we'll see if he wants to play tomorrow.

i just spent a few minutes thinking about the movie.  and first i was really happy about things that happened but then i became really sad.  fantastic film.  for bostonites, it's playing at kendall square, and so is amelie.  go see them both, you'll thank me later.  and then rent mulholland drive and i'll leave you alone for a long time.

whoops, just read and thought more about the movie.

and listening to crooked fingers "under pressure" and once more the lyrics of the song are really sticking out: "love's such an old fashioned word and love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares you to change our way of thinking about about ourselves."    very appropriate i think, or maybe i'm just in one of my moods.

"the truth is cool, but unattainable."

la la la

woke up earlyish for a weekend: 11:30.  showered and in the bathroom there was this big nasty-ass bug in the bucket, really creepy sonuvabitch with lots of legs, so i got the lysol and sprayed the jesus out of it.

then i played games until oly came to drive me to lori/katie's at around 2 or 3.

we had a cookout, and then watched starwars and empire.  and then no one wanted to watch jedi which killed me because i was ready.  ready for the emperor and rancor and death star 2 and gamorreans and leia in her slave outfit and chains, and max reebo, and harrison ford totally copping a feel, and those goddam teddy bears.  but noooo.  no force lightning for me.  no final showdown between father and son.  nope.  just home for laundry and computer games.

adam and i have decided our life plans.  we're going to move into a commune of old fat men who are part of the star wars universe and work on our force powers and get light sabers and shit.  should be fun.  i'm gonna put out a personal this week i think.

so yesterday, i was not feeling well.  i felt the sick approaching me and slowly taking over my body, much like machines began to take over the body of darth vader, except the sick was not keeping me alive like the machines did to anakin, but instead the sick was killing me.  Anyway, i felt this and i said to the sick "no.  no sick, you will not win this battle."  so i drank milk and ate food and ate fruit but still, the sick hanged on and fucked with me.  so i kept eating.  i found if i continuously had food going into my body i did not feel so badly.  then i went to presto's with adam and went to blockbuster to rent vanilla sky which they did not have so instead i got the limey and then from adam i got batman.  also, i bought some advil and beer, "sick," i said, "i'll show you who is boss."  and i came home and watched the limey which was a fun time.  i put in batman which started off awesome but then i fell asleep on my couch type thing covered in my comforter.  I woke up some time later, realized batman was over, so i started it again in a pretend attempt to actually watch it.  i feel asleep moments later and woke up at 5am, batman was once again over, so i cut my losses and went to bed.

today i woke up an lo, the sick had left with its tail between its legs.

i woke up, made my lunch (pb&j, milk, and a kiwi) and then came downstairs to continue the slow process of cleaning/setting up my living space.  I made myself a classy nightstand and cleaned the box closet (ladies, there is still room) and organized some dvds and cds and cleared some clutter and what not.

then after some farting around, i was picked up by the mighty foursome of oly katie adam and lori to go down to the common to see star wars on a digital projecter.  well, outside of the incredibly digital projection showoff trailers, i found myself not quite able to notice a huge difference between digital and film star wars.  but i do know this: star wars rules AND i hate myself for it, but the scene of amidala getting slashed in the back and then arching her back and making the orgasm noise is the single HOTTEST thing i've ever seen in my life.  i'm working on that last one.  trust me.  until the dvd comes out, that is.

so one of four girls moved in, meghan (alternatively: megan, meaghan, meggin).  we chatted for a bit, seems cool enough.  wow, i just looked over the expanse of my room, good god is it large.  who needs sunlight when you have 69billion square feet?

38 days? ...really?  i still hate this country.

looks like tomorrow is booze and barbeque and lori/katie's.  huzzah.  booze.  remember booze?  i sorta don't.  although, tonight marks the one week anniversary of the coolest night ever.  well, it's more like the coolest afternoon ever, since the day actually began on saturday morning.  so sunday night would then be late afternoon.  anyway, one week ago right now i was playing kings or something in my room in edmonds.  little did i know that in 6 hours i'd be sitting in a mcdonalds, preparing for the most decadent game of kings ever.  yay senior week.

I live.  But I must keep this quick as i want to go to star market and buy foods for me to eat.
no updates because on tuesday i moved into my apartment for the summer and there was no internet until about an hour ago.

let's see, senior week was ridiculous.  tim and i had a routine.  every day we'd wake up around 2 or 3, be wastes of life for a couple hours, go out to get food, get back and hurridly shower and then hit the mods by 9pm.  we essentially moved into 31b, one night we were there pre-drinking for 6 hours.  The nights themselves were a mix, as far as mod power, wednesday and thursday were awesome, just a sea of people.  it may have been tuesday and wednesday though, i don't remember, hmm, i really don't know.  crap.  well, i know friday was commencement, but i don't remember if that was the bad weather day or if thursday was bad weather day.  argh. 

anyway, i do know that saturday was an interesting night, and i thank the dismemberment plan for that.  i had 2 hours of broken sleep between saturday and sunday and then sunday began and oh boy, was i in for some trouble.  it was the last night, we actually drank in edmonds for the first time since the modular fun began, we did some kings or asshole or 7-11 doubles or chandeliers or quarters (incidentally, all the same games we had been playing in 31b the past week, well, we played beirut and drinking taboo too) and then at oh, 2ish or something tim sean and i hit the mods, 31b obviously.  hung around, drank beers, played games and waited for the am to go out onto the roof to see the sunrise.  we did, a few of us shared a bottle of champagne and then back to the mod.  there, me tim and katie and kristen of 31b cabbed it to ihop (6:30 or so mind you) and got a table.  now we're all drunk.  quite drunk.  after a while we realize we've been sitting and not a single waiter has come up to us, we find out they're not serving for another 30 minutes, then why seat us jackasses?  so we walked across the way to mcdonalds.  i've never had mcdonalds breakfast and i wasn't too disappointed, except for the HOT coffee that kept spilling as i walked to our cab home.  then we got back to the mod, katie went to do god knows what and tim kristen and i popped open a LARGE bottle of Korbel and played kings.  Yes, three of us killed a big bottle of champagne at 7am while playing kings.  it was ridiculous, but tasted so good.  kings ended a little before 8am, i had a little time before i needed to be anywhere, so tim and i cracked a beer.  then i went home, hjopped in the shower, put on clothing and cap and gown, ran into my mom on the way to the plex, went to graduation, which i hear was boring, then later tim and i went to burger king, i got a new phone, we packed and packed and moved and moved and packed and moved and moved and packed until 7 or 8.  we went to presto's, tim left, i went to upper to do laundry with brenda, she stood me up, i went home (sean's place for the night) played with my phone and went to bed. 

i was loopy as shit.  i had been up close to 60 hours by the time i finally kicked it at 2am monday night.  so much fun though.  god, what a way to go out. 

then tueday begat work and my apartment.  my room rules, it's huge, and it has all the amenities a guy could ask for: full size bed, computer, tv, dvd, ps2, good sound system, all my cds and mp3s and dvds, a leather chair, a futon, and a fridge.  and soon the girls move in and i officially become sketchy basement guy.  i can't wait.

saw insomnia last night, very solid, but not really blow away type material.  which i guess is unfair because i'm comparing it to memento.  when you look at it, memento was an incredibly unique idea, but after the idea was in place, the movie wasn't very difficult.  it was a one-trick pony with an absolutely incredible trick.  insomnia represents a more worked out film (even though it's not his screenplay).  also, how cool would it be to live in a town that never goes dark during some seasons?

ok, time for food and then videogame madness.

oh, i'm in this slow process of cleaning the place, on wednesday i popped in out of sight to test my new dvd player and then was going to clean but instead watched the whole damn movie.  then last night after the movie i threw in the talking heads dvd for music and ended up sitting down watching the whole damn movie.  i also think i've fallen inlove with 80s tina weymouth.  so what if her outfit is ridiculous and the one tom-tom club song including makes me want to stab my eyes with hotdogs and rip my ears off?  there's somethign about her.  also, david byrne, who is this guys, and what the hell was with that suit?

s-t: hey jackass, remember me?

me: yeah yeah yeah, i've actually sat down a couple times and wrote a sentence or two, but mostly i've just been running around like a chicken with its head cut off and haven't had the urge to stop and sit down and write.

s-t: well whatever, it's not like it's really difficult to sit down and write your crappy "today i went to see a movie and then drank beers" entries.  So what have you been doing?

me: i went to see a movie and then drank beers

s-t: class c joke

me: ok.  well, first was college tour, which was what?  i left last friday, a week ago to the day in fact.  Left at around 1:30 which is what time it is now, funny how that works out.  listened to pet sounds and rerealized that although there's a lot of fun to be had in the music, the lyrics are entirely a very very very sad affair.

s-t: ooh, brian finds significance in pet sounds.  want to give another damn song by song rundown like last time?

me: no.  rode out with john sean steph and andy, got the last spot on the ferry and hit long island i forget when.  that night we ate some cookout and then began a powerhour at 11 and drank for a while.  got to bed around 4 or 5.

s-t: original

me: next day i laid out in the sun for a long long time, dimo made some food, we watched the college tour video and drank beers and stuff.

s-t: whoa cowboy, slow down, you're losing me.

me: whatever.  so that was college tour.  got up-

s-t: wait, that's it?  what happened to the old days when you actually said something in these entries.  christ, you just wrote 2 sentences on college tour that does nothing.  No one reading this will find out bit of that interesting, and you in three years won't be able to remember shit by looking at that.

me: oh well, it happens.

s-t: ass

me: so got home on sunday, armed with two unused 30s and found out that there was more stuff to be had here and it was kate's birthday at midnight so there was a little bit of a power hour and then some other drinking type games and then some people, namely those people who were of the legal 21 year old persuasion went to some bars while more fun was had with the 'ettes.  it was a big night, i apparantly took a rest stop at their kitchen table and then indignantly went to my bed. 

s-t: i'm still here

me: yes i know, damn these devices i use only to find myself without the urge or the means to follow through.  shut up for a little.  ok, the rest of the days are a blur.  lots of drinking, eating food out, spedning far too much money and mods mods mods.

s-t: you're a mod

me: oh, after a particularly bad call evening i wallowed in the mess i created by buying cds.  huzzah.  john vanderslice, tom waits, tom waits, crooked fingers, crooked fingers, and something else i think.

s-t: the cds any good?

me: definitely.  well, tom waits is just unbearably scary, but in a good way.  the vanderslice i haven't listened to much but liked what i heard, and crooked fingers is good stuff.  man, the ep that just came out, reservoir songs, is five cover tunes.  they rule, especially under pressure.  also, jude would feel vindicated, as eric bachmann sings a neil diamond song.  also, between this ep and the mark eitzel cover album, i think i really like kris kristofferson, the song on the crooked fingers ep, "sunday morning coming down" is just brilliant.

s-t: ha! you poor bastard, you fell for it.  all i have to do is ask about a cd and you actually write stuff.  pretend that the things you do are music and tell me about them.

me: no

s-t: no, yes no

me: this is getting ridiculous.  Sure i have things to say, but there things that are best kept inside, so they can systematically destroy me from the bottom up. 

s-t: you can talk to me

me: right, so you can go blabbing to everyone and their mothers about what i say

s-t: hey, i'm your creation, so be mindful before you get critical.

me: i know, i'm just getting tired of it.  hey, i've got a great idea, let's have a website where i can just piss and moan about the things that make me feel this weird mixture of physical and emotional pain.  because then, i can get all the shit out, still feel bad, AND look like a jackass when everyone reads the things i don't even want to think.  that's fantastic.

s-t: it's worked this long

me: it hasn't worked for shit.  Name one time my life has been improved for writing something awkwardly personal on you.

s-t: well, there was that one entry 2 years back that started with the built to spill lyric?  that one was good.

me: ok, fine.  how about another?

s-t: well, hmm, i get your point.  but there's some funny shit up in this piece.

me: oh yeah definitely, because i'm an all around awesome guy, and that'll keep coming, just don't get all up in my grill when i haven't sat down to write and don't feel the urge to go through and write out itemized details of my past week.

s-t: i'm not asking for a novel, just something, an anecdote here and there

me: well it's not happening today.  the past week will be but a memory, one that's already a little hazy because of busch light and will continue getting hazier as time passes until i start inventing things that happened or can't remember if something i think of actually occurred.

s-t: ah yes, the whole memory thing.  I remember when you wrote about that, i still really like that idea, that our memory is all created as a way to cope with forgetting.

me: yeah, it has some really nice implications.  i wonder what it'd be like to wake up each day and have it truly be a new one.

s-t: like memento.

me: yeah, but not quite, i'm talking there has to be a level of consistency.  some structure to forgetting.  Like you can't wake up and not know who you are.  you just wake up and forget things that happened.  like a kind of freeze on your world. 

s-t: basically you're saying your a weak person who can't handle change.

me: no no, not at all.  well, do a certain degree i am, but that's another topic, right now i'm talking about my amazing memory solution.

s-t: which is essentially you want nothing in your life to go wrong and if it does you want to be able to forget about it.

me: well yeah

s-t: yeah hi, welcome to the sixth grade loser club.

me: you're a real abrasive son of a bitch.

s-t: what? do you think this is therapeutic trying to cleave yourself in half and have a dialogue deconstructing yourself.

me: maybe

s-t: well then why do i have to be the asshole?

me: because i'm the sensitive and hurt one.

s-t: pretty convenient, huh?

me: absolutely, now let me whine.

s-t: the gift of memory is an awful curse.

me: way to bring me back on topic.  i like that line, what's it from?

s-t: death cab for cutie, stability.  i got it from your ftp site.

me: cool, i've really only listened to the bjork cover. 

s-t: 20th century towers is good too.  stability is a bit overlong, but i still dig it.

me: fuck

s-t: what?

me: everything, nothing.

s-t: you're trying to bait me.  i hate when people do that.  oh no, brian? what's wrong? here, let me hold you and give you a glass of milk and some cookies and you can tell me all about it.

me: screw you

s-t: no, screw you.  grow up.  take control of your life.  things change things are always changing, you deal with it.  you're sitting at your desk now whining about how you don't want to pack.  just fucking do it.  pack your shit.  move out.  move on.

me: god you're harsh

s-t: no i'm not, i'm just sick of your poor me routine.  i just want you to quit moping around.

me: i'm listening to ted leo, not quite moping music.

s-t: oh ok, you're not moping.  you're just really starved for conversation.  riiight.  you fucker, i hear crooked fingers, you're listening to sad bastard music now.

me: sue me.  this song rules:

"Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.
Then I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday."

s-t: yeah that is really good.  too bad no one is going to read it, also, it's a lot better hearing bachmann at the helm.  this the kristofferson one?

me: yep.

s-t: weird, from hearing the name i always thought he was one of those lame people like kenny loggins.

me: me too, but he seems like a badass.

s-t: you really dig songs like this, that carry with them this really strong poignancy, don't you?

me: totally, it's hard to explain the feeling, but it's really something.  and it's not all sad bastard music, well i guess it is, but it's not stupid sad bastard music.  holy shit, this song wrecks me right now.  i wish i could express my feelings in words, but i really can't.  i'm just getting ready to gush out words that carry no weight.  this is so fucking sad, i love this song.  ASLDASLHDALSKHDALSKHDASLKHDALSKHD

s-t: ok slugger, calm down.  listen to your sad bastard music and let me get on with my life.

me: "and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day." like, just that line by itself, with the way he sings it.  resignation, that's a favorite word of mine to explain this type of feeling. 

s-t: why don't you talk to other people sober?  why me?

me: exactly that.  "why me?"  no one needs to listen to me.  and i feel awful when i force myself to do so when i'm drunk.  i want to just be care free and drink up and have sunday morning never come.

s-t: what's on sunday?

me: nothing, it was a figurative sunday.  I hate waking up.  There's nothing more sobering than realizing you've woken up and it's another day.

s-t: you're getting out of hand here, shut up.

me: don't take me too seriously, it's all just the same shit.  it's funny, really.

s-t:

me: i said "it's funny, really."

s-t: oh i know, i heard you.  i'm just not taking your bait. 

me: great, now i can't even bring myself to talk to myself.

s-t: no, you're free to talk, but i'm not going to tear anything out of you.  if you want to say something, just say it.

me: well, i guess i don't.  i mean, what's to say really?  nothing i haven't said before and nothing i don't know myself.  i'm not a hard book to read. 

s-t: no, you're certainly not.  this the neil song?

me: yeah, "solitary man," another good one.  he picked his songs perfectly for this ep.

s-t: haha oh shit, is this "when u were mine?"

me: yeah, the prince song.  the dump version is kind of up but still a little sad.  this one is just banjo and a string bass, super slowed down, and wicked sad.

s-t: the lyrics on this are great too.  too bad that fuckwit prince constantly uses "u" in place of "you."  it makes his lyrics seem a little trite when seeing them in print.

me: yeah i know, but reading them, and it's like "wow, this is a hell of a song."  never really figured prince as a sad bastard being all sensitive and shit. 
s-t: cause he wants to take you to erotic city and fuck till the cherry's gone? 

me: basically.  he's a dirty son of a bitch.  and then there's this "when u were mine" which makes him look like a sensitive indie rock dude.

s-t: have you heard the original?

me: no.  ok, this is dump, no more prince.  now it's springsteen's "the river" this is cool too.

s-t: well, i'm getting tired, and we seem to have veered off the annoying self-parody and cloying of our previous conversation and just moved on to talking about prince's dirty mind.

me: you're right.  saw star wars yesterday, that ruled.

s-t: i heard it sucked.

me: well, CGI has gone too too far, and george lucas is perhaps one of the world's worst directors making big time movies, but hey, it's star wars.  makes ep1 look like a joke.

s-t: you downloading it now so i can watch?

me: yeah, probably a shitty cam feed, but whatever. 

s-t: what are your plans for the day?

me: gonna go to dinner i think with tim and sarah and brenda.  and then i'm getting my funk on in the mods.

s-t: awesome. 

me: oh it will be.  until sunday morning of course.

s-t: figurative again?

me: of course.

s-t: that's your choice, dude.

me: really?

s-t: ok look, honestly, i don't know.  signs point to yes, but god knows what you're doing wrong.  give kristofferson a call, see if he ever figured it out.

me: ok i know that was a good place to end this, but then under pressure came on.  first off, his cover of this is just genius.  and then since i'm looking at lyrics today, i checked them out.  "And love dares you to care For people on the edge of the night /And love dares you to change our way Of caring about ourselves" is a nice turn.  and of course the terror of knowing what the world's all about part. 

s-t: oh wow, "under pressure" a great song.  who knew.  why don't you talk some more about pet sounds.

me: actually, i saw a gap commercial yesterday that used some song from pet sounds.  don't remember which, one of the instrumentals or the break in "i know there's an answer"

s-t: it's starting...

me: just threw on "i'm waiting for the day" it's all kinda sad bastard and closes up at the end with brian going "i'm waiting for the day when you can love again."  cause the whole thing is he pciked up the chick on the rebound, and he totally fell in love but she still wants the other dude.  and the song sounds like it's over with a little closing string arrangement and the uhoh, watch the fuck out, cause he starts screaming (as best brian wilson can) basically saying, "i'm giving up on this sad resignation shit and gonna stir up some shit."  it won't work bri, but if you want you can help fund my memory solution research project and i can make her forget about him.  and i'll even throw in some rehab for you if you need it anymore.

s-t: are you still talking?

me: umm, no.

wow.  the end of mark eitzel's "more more more" is damn near throwing me into a spasm.  that rules.

yesterday i got up and went to see spiderman it was good fun.  holy shit, this song is really fucking with me.  this is so awesome.  anyway, yeah, spiderman was good, went with tim adam and katie and then hit up ground round afterwards.  god damn i do love cinnamon dippers.  then i came home and uhh, well, umm, duuuh, well...  oh.  showered.  but then, then what.  shit, prolly nothing.  played computer games or something.

today i got up, hit up bk with some of 1659 and then studied for business law, which was a joke.  came home, tara slaved over a hot stove all day and made us some yummy food and then uhh... umm, well, we ate it, and then i guess nothing.  we played bullshit much later on and i won because i kick ass at stuff.  and then i played computer games and worked on jude's mix, "an electrocity."  god i'm clever. 

tara's leaving tomorrow which is sad, but she's coming back which is happy.

the end.

ha, also, from the magnetic fields' long-forgotten fairytale: "in every life a little rain, et cetera"

dunno why, but that gets me every time. 

yesterday:

woke up and went straight to cambridge to see the harvard smart people put on Sweeney Todd with mike and the adamator.  It was quite good.  awesome awesome sets and staging and some really great talent.  and the story fucking ruled.  apparently this is what college theatre is supposed to be like.  I never knew.

then came home and promptly began the laundering process.  did that, showered, prepped for dinner, sarah the dear carried up my laundry for me and then folded it all (!) as i jaunted off to joe's for the bostonians banquet.  it all started with bread.  damn that bread was good.  i ate some and ate some more and adam yelled at me because he said i wouldn't finish my meal, i had ordered soup, salad, calamari and a filet mignon.  well, i would prove that bastard wrong.  so i ate  a lot of food and kept eating.  when the main course came i was saved, because i could barely chew my meat, and i had a heap of mashed potatoes.  but i didn't like the mashed potatoes so i was saved and told adam that he could eat my ass.  traditions were passed on, plaques were given out, the new plaques rule and i might actually hang mine up somewhere.  then pictures were had outside and we went back to school to change for the hill.

and to the hill we went.  i did a striptease and we all sang and looked at boston and got cold.  then i went to hannah's and watched a bad (but oh so good) horror movie and 1-900 number commercials on USA. 

today:

wasted away, ate easy mac, watched billy madison and a fair amount of VH1's top 100 rock n' roll tv moments.  then i went to cambridge to buy CDs.

it was my first retail cd experience since that sad day that i saw the OtherMusic store gutted of it's beautiful silver platters, so i was a little scared.  thought i may break down or go into a violent fit of rage.  i turned out ok.  this might be better because since newbury has a shittier selection, i'm less inclined to spend as much money.  good for my wallet, bad for my soul.  today's pickups were: mark eitzel - Music for courage and confidence (cover album, some really great stuff), eels - souljacker, pedro the lion - control, badly drawn boy - about a boy, wilco - yankee hotel foxtrot, and all tomorrow's parties 2.0.  I also picked up radiohead's airbag/how am i driving ep and ad frank's mr. fancypants at planet records.  ad frank is great.  the album is hott, and it made me really appreciate the live performance, which actually was cooler than the songs on disc.  but i'm still way happy. 

i came home, caught the simpsons with the roommates minus darren, watched malcolm alone and came in my room to listen to music.

i wanted to see spiderman or do ANYTHING tonight but everyone is either busy or at a bar so i'm just fucked.  good thing i have new cds, eh?

wow.  i'm getting super bad at this.

rewind

tuesday: was it really tuesday?  i did some stuff and then went to katie's where a bunch of us did a powerhour before guster.  then we went to see guster: eh.  i mean, not bad, but eh.  after guster i came home and had a nap.  then we ordered pizza here in the room and went to denise's mod for a few games of beirut and then off to 1661 for some partying.  my partying didn't last long as i went to hannah's and started the crow but it broke so we watched suicide kings.

wednesday: hmm, i did something before the chorale banquet, this much i know.  but what was it?  think brian think.  ahh shit.  c'mon, i know i can do this.  hmm, oh YEAH.  i watched dirty work with darren, and then i was sketchy with katie and amy.  then i came home and showered and suited up for chorale.  went to andy's for the junior pregame, had a few stiff ones and then kicked it on down to the hyatt harborside.  dinner was good, brenda and i won chorale boozer (both the non-numerical winners, but deserved nonetheless).  then i went through different levels of consciousness sitting at the table, which was not unlike banquet 2 years ago where i went through different levels of consciousness lying under the table.  then i woke up and accidentally got a little freaky.  oh, i also prodded myself with an imaginary tazer multiple times.  then came the busride home, which i painfully forced myself to stay awake through because had i passed out it would've equaled an ungood time.  we made it back, i hung out in 829 a bit and then went to the president's breakfast ever so briefly because it sucked.  then was time to kick it to bed.

thursday: c'mon, this was yesterday... i can do this.  i wasted a LOT of time.  oh, went to mcdonald's with some of the 1629 collective.  then wasted time.  and then wasted more time until we went to college sub.  then there was a private party in my bedroom and 5 of 1629 and dan went candlepin bowling with the meanest dumb bitch old lady bowling alley woman ever, who was trying to chase us out from the moment we walked in.  Team Chorale (alternate team names withheld) of dan me and brenda won handily against team grids (tara darren tim) twice.  then the losers bought the winners ice cream at white mountain and i came home and lovingly fell asleep.

friday: woke up early and wrote.  and wrote.  and went to see hollywood ending with dan.  it was fun, not great, but it was woody allen, and very entertaining woody allen at that.  also, dan and i were the only people under 50 in the whole theatre.  came back home, kicked it to dinner with team grids.  we were in lower for ever and had a long conversation about boobs.  once back home i finally showered and then suited up to go to the ad frank show.  dropped tim off at cleaveland circle, picked up hannah at lower and drove on down to central square.  not interested in seeing no name opening bands for a band i had never heard before, hannah and i walked around central square a bit.  this included multiple passes by Man Ray some hardcore gay club that had so much pleather the cows of the world must have wept with joy.  on one pass we saw some dude in a high slit red dress, and that was going to be the winner.  until the next pass, where we saw another man in a big black dress holding hands with a midget in a wig.  no contest.  we went into TTs and sat at the bar till ad frank came out.  saw steve and gary and then watched ad frank.  boy they were good.  can't wait to get my grubby little hands on some cds.  went back to hannah's for a bit, then walking back to my car i found a five dollar bill on the street and, after making sure no one was watching, i picked it up.  that was awesome.

tomorrow: laundry laundry laundry.  also, i think i'm going to see sweeney todd with some kids and then of course is bostonians final banquet.  word to your moms.