bllleeeehhhh.

Sometimes I worry about things. I'm sure everyone does. That's pretty much a fact of life, I think; worrying. The thing that makes my worrying worse, I assume, is that when I worry about something, I convince myself that other people don't have to worry as much about it. Or that they have someone to bail them out. I convince myself that I don't.

It's what I'm good at.

Let's be melodramatic for a second.

Sometimes I feel like people don't know me. Most of the time I feel like that's by choice. No, I'm not sure who's choice it is. I'd like to think it's not mine, but maybe it is.

I'm something of a solipsist, but not seriously. It's my seventh grade teacher's fault. And it only happens when I'm just about to fall asleep.

Contracts, to me, feel like a death sentence. Every time I put my name on a contract, I feel like I give up a little bit of myself to someone else. I'm always scared I can't have it back.

I really want people important to my friends to like me. I generally like everyone, honestly.

My parents are very proud of my sister. My sister who is outstandingly average and does virtually nothing. I have a job, a car, and a college education, all of which I am responsible for, independently. This not only bothers, but confuses me.

I constantly feel like anything outside of my routine might be a mistake, and it may affect me later.

Sometimes I think I might be making these sort of feelings up, even though I know I'm not.

In college, I learned that if you see a computer monitor up to two hours before you try to sleep, you can't sleep deep enough to satisfy your body. Fuck technology, right?

this is the part where i say something to belittle my thoughts, and make myself seem less immature and petty, or some dumb shit like that. do me a favor -- pretend i was good at it.

life?

New whip, new hat, new kicks, bitches with the huge tits....

art imitates life, but life imitates shitty pop music.

Today I went to a cookout. There were burgers, and brats, and dogs, and German potato salad. It was very yummy. I talked to my (second) cousin, Davey. He said nice things about me and the way I look these days. Its nice to be complimented. Its also nice to eat burgers, brats, dogs, and German potato salad.

Today was a success.

bleh

I posted a blog earlier today, and about ten minutes later, I deleted it. Mostly because I knew it would cause a shit storm, and I'm trying to do that passive thing. Trying really, really hard. The blog was inconsequential anyway. It was all cryptic and whatever. I doubt anyone read it. No one follows me that closely, I should hope.

I'm really looking forward to some things. My grandparents leave soon. I love my grandparents. They're pretty awesome, but their leaving means some pretty cool things are going to happen. I get to use their car, which, admittedly isn't a super-amazing-ultra-awesome car, but it's better than what I'm driving now, so that's pretty sweet. Also, I get to have a pretty sweet cook-out with some pretty sweet people. I'll enjoy that.

Also, we're supposed to go to Kings Island and see Social D in the same weekend. Then, the following weekend we're going to go to Gaitlinburg for three days. I have to say it's going to be a pretty good two weeks. The weekend after that, I'm probably going camping, plus, it will be Brian's birthday.

And did I mention, Burning Dan is coming up?

I just hope this uneasy feeling I'm getting will pass soon. Man. Fingers crossed, it's just a feeling.

Renal Dialysis

So we're not going to go to Kings Island this weekend, mostly because one of my best friend's grandmother's kidneys are failing hard. She happens to have her failing kidneys stationed in North Carolina, and thinks it would be nice to go with his mom so that she can have company when she goes to see her mom. I tend to agree. I agree both sadly and reluctantly, but I agree. I can't help but feel like my disappointment is childish. I'll chalk my inability to feel otherwise to the fact that it is, in fact, childish. Okay. Problem solved.

The trip has been rescheduled for August 1st, potentially. Next weekend is the same guy's brother's birthday, so we can't say much for that weekend until plans are made for that. August 1st looks like it might be it.

I feel like I'm going to have a really, really bad day today.

Chapter 13: Sloth, Escape, and the First of the Mis-named Chapters

Quick overview...

My girlfriend is back from Greece for like, two weeks now, and I'm still struggling to remember how to do the boyfriend thing. I'm glad shes back, but when someone is gone for more than a month, you just get really used to that person being gone. I'm sure things will get easier pretty quick, though.

I've all but given up on waking up at noon. I was berated for trying to have a normal life by some people I know. Between that, and hanging out in parking lots with those people until the wee(er) hours of the morning, one, or one thirty have become far more tangible. I hate it. Sleeping in every day takes away the adventure of not getting up when you're supposed to.

This Saturday we're going to Kings Island. It should be a lot of fun. I hear they have some good rollercoasters now. Naturally, its going to be no Cedar Point, but I think last time I was at Kings Island, I liked it. Surely it will be more fun with friends replacing family.

I put in for my second and last vacation day this whole year. It will be August 7. Some of us are going to Gatlinburg. We're spending three nights up in the mountains. It cost way too much money, and I don't yet know how I feel about some of the people we're going with, but I guess sudden decisions like that are good sometimes, so I just went along with it.

Also, as for escape, tomorrow I'm going back to Hogwarts. I got advanced tickets like, a week ago. Sadly, I can't go tonight to see it because I have to work, but I will get to see it tomorrow evening. The Half-Blood Prince was by far my favorite book of the series, so this movie should be momentous. They're saying its the best movie out so far, which I can totally believe. Order of the Phoenix felt like one big montage. Lame.

I haven't seen some of my good friends in a few weeks, and it's starting to make me sad. Conflicting schedules, I guess. Who knows. Spike, Ryan, I miss you guys.

So I fell off the wagon. I'll climb back on in the morning.

footnote to a footnote

When I see the sun rise, it reminds me that there are two ends of the Earth, and I can smile.

footnote 1

I wish I had a socket set to dismantle this morning, just one pair of clean socks, and a picture of you.

Chapter 9: Relationships

I have already claimed my most functioning relationship is with a toilet (see my Senior Portfolio's "reflective" piece) so there is nowhere in this post for me to make that argument. Altering it slightly, I fully feel that my second most consistent relationship over the course of the last 20 odd years was insighted by my uncle.



When I was eight, my uncle Lee babysat me for one afternoon. Lee was 19. He worked in a machine shop, and went to Community College (mostly to hit on girls and play frisbee). He had long(ish) hair, and wore very tight, very black jeans most of the time. He lived in my grandparents' basement, and he had a lot of records that I had never heard of. He knew how to play Led Zeppelin songs on guitar, and when I would ask him what he was playing, he would always say "What's wrong, little man? You don't like Zep?" in this way that was totally intimidating, but totally friendly at the same time. Lee was the coolest person I had ever met in all of my eight, worldly years. Lee had a Probe, and he liked to drive his Probe fast. It had an after-market stereo system in it that would make my ears bleed. One day, Lee took me out in that Probe, to meet some of his friends. On the way, we listened to music that he called "Metallica". When we met his friends, at least sixty percent of the population in the room were wearing shirts that said "Metallica". When he hung out at his friend's house, we listened to "Metallica", and these guys talked about what I imagined every cool person ever would want to talk about. Girls. Money. Cars. How to make cars faster. Drinking. Lifting Weights. And how songs about being burned alive were equally as cool as songs about drowning under ice. The testosterone was palpable, and I had no idea what testosterone was at that time.

When we left that afternoon, all I could talk about was how cool everyone in there was. Naturally, my uncle protested, so I decided to talk about other stuff. Girls. Money. Cars. Faster cars. Drinking (what, I wasn't sure). Lifting Weights. And most importantly, how Metallica was probably the best band in the history of music forever and ever. He let me borrow his copy of Metallica's Self-Titled albumb (more commonly referred to as "The Black Album"), and informed me that when I learned all the words to all the songs, I could borrow another album. It was perfect. Just the way it should have been.

Now, I will remind you, I was eight. This was 1997. From that moment until (roughly) 2007, Metallica was my absolute favorite band. These days, I don't really listen to them that often, and if you ask me who my favorite bands are, Metallica is likely to be off the list completely --- but the truth is, I love Metallica. They played harder, and faster than anyone else before them. They lived out every page of Hammer of the Gods every night on every tour. They have more money that I can begin to understand. Its absurd. They are, in short, metal legends, and relgiously, every three or four weeks, I cannot help but throw in an old Metallica album just for the love of thrash and marvel at how good they once were, or still are, or might be sometime. One of my friends once told me he listened to Ride the Lightning at least once a day, every day during his Sophmore year of highschool. This does not, in any way at all, seem unreasonable to me.

Now, who wants to go see Metallica with me?

Chapter Eight: Wandering

Recently, there has been a lot of discussions among the troops about going places, and doing things. This excited me greatly, mostly because for the past three years, I've wanted to go places and do things.

"I need to leave. I'm sick of this town" --- Let's get the hell out of this town so we can get a better feel for each other.

I couldn't agree more, ma'am.

"We need to go somewhere. Bad... You've been saying it. I just think it." Well, I'm glad you finally said something, sir.

It was brought to my attention that I've never seen the ocean. Or the Beach. Or the desert. Or a real mountain. This all makes me very sad. But on the upside! My friends tell me that next year we can go to the beach.

One of my friends says that running on the water line at sunrise is totally going to happen. The phrase "no responsibilities" was used at least three times, and I have to say, I've never smiled more. The thought of beach-bound twilights excites me more than anything else I can think of, really.

I really hope this can happen. My friends have a habbit of telling me things I really want to hear, and then not coming through. Nothing personal to anyone. Just generally. My parents do it too. Its just that this time, I think I'm investing a large portion of my emotional and psycological wellbeing on being able to toss my obligations into the tide for a few days this time next year.

Since midnight on a beach in the Mediterranean is sort of out of the question, I'm open for suggestions. I wonder where that beach Incubus told me about is.

Chapter 7: chapter seven

My favorite part about getting up at twelve thirty is sleeping in until one thirty.

Chapter Six: The Sunday After

So, the Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite holidays. Outside of celebrating with loud, illegal explosives, you can really celebrate any way you please. The most common way is cooking out, I think, and since all my favorite food involves open flame and once-living tissue, you can't really go wrong!

Excellent, right? Except last night I spent my time in bed. From one thirty in the afternoon until one o'clock today, I slept in forty minute increments, rolling, aching, and all-around hating myself. Apparently, while my girlfriend was in Greece, she managed to contract some strange, European sickness. For upwards of five days she was queezy, and vomiting. It was a terrible sight. Upon her return, she gave me my souveniers, among which was the remainder of her sickness.

The good news? I believe I have managed to best the illness in only one day as opposed to four or five. For breakfast I have eaten eggs, and milk, and toast, and though my stomache does not feel like stone, I am not, in fact, throwing up.

Take that, Greece. Your Atenian disease is no match for my body.

Chapter 5: Or Chapter Two If Names Count

Today is Friday, and clearly I'm getting better at keeping up with this thing.

No work tonight. Still paid. It's tight. We're going out for Shogun, which is pretty bad-ass if for no other reason than that I will get to watch a man spin an egg on a spatula, then crack it without using his hands. And hopefully there will be an Onion Volcano.

We're also going to see Public Enemies, the new Johnny Depp flick. I don't know if Johnny Depp is over-rated, or if he catches too much flack, but either way, the dude can act (even if he seems to be playing roles that are primarily to piss off Gene Wilder).

We might even get ice cream. It's fun being twelve.

I got another haircut today. It's my second one this summer. It's also my second one in the past five years.

My flow is Retarted --- Call me Rainman 'CAUSE I MAKE IT RAIN, MAN!!!

Chapter 4: the first of the named chapters.

Today I'm going to see my girlfriend for the first time since May. For those of you without calenders, it is now July. She's at the dentist right now, which I guess is important. Dental hygiene is sort of a big deal in America, which is why I plan to brush my teeth as soon as I put pants on.

The prospect of double-dating, for the first time in my life, has been brought up and, I have to admit, I'm pretty pumped for tomorrow. These two things are not entirely exclusive. Friday should be a pretty awesome day. And Saturday. And hopefully Sunday too. Who knows.

This weekend will be the Forth of July. As a young American, I am more than willing to help my country celebrate is official birth by eating a ton of red meat and cheering on loud, illegal explosions with some good friends.

On days when I elect not to go to the gym (a decision I can generally only accept by forcing myself to adhere to a schedule), a large part of my mid-afternoon is spent watching Spongebob reruns. I do enjoy it.

Chapter 3

I'm trying to stay motivated to write in this. I never understood when people had toys they didn't play with, or records they didn't listen to. I don't have anything cool or observational to use to build up to an anti-climax. No one died, I guess. Today is a journal day.

I'm listening to a lot of music lately. My girlfriend is still out of the country, if only technically at this point. I've been making up for that by doing a ton of sit-ups, and focusing more on listening to good music. I listened to Crack the Skye, this time with more intent, as per a good friend of mine's request. There totally is some merit in an entire Prog-metal album about Rasputin followers in space and time travel. The newest Darkest Hour came out recently. It's called The Eternal Return, and I had high hopes for it. Sadly, it chose to go work at the mall and thwarted all my hopes for it going to an Ivy League school. I supposed the die-hard fan base will appreciate it. I still have Deliver us.

I've also gone back to drawing to fill time. I used to draw things that meant something, but that began feeling contrived. I just do portraits now. But I don't have models. So I just draw people's facebook pictures. I've already drawn my friend Ryan, and my friend Ben. I don't know who else to draw, really. I'll keep looking. Maybe I'll draw Rasputin --- if he has a Facebook.

Right now, I'm waiting on Brian to wake up so we can go to the gym. I'm always waiting on someone; or at least that's what my grandma says. Apparently, most of my life is spent waiting on people. I don't mind it I guess.

I'm very excited about something. There's a new person in my life --- and its a girl. Don't worry. Its not what you're thinking, I promise. I've got this girlfriend, see? I don't rightly know where she's at right now, but she's definately somewhere. This new person though... Man am I ever excited to see her. I'm trying not to jinx it though.