zippity do da . . .

zippity day. so much good shit has happened this week . . .

got a surprise, drunken, transatlantic phone call from breton, clint, and izzy.

ate mama's with jake.

got a christmas card from paris.

bought napoleon dynamite and anchorman (both fucking hilarious; if you haven't seen them, i'll let you borrow my copies . . .)

bought the moon and antarctica by modest mouse (it fucking rocks!)

bought an eighth of really chronic weed (thanks lee!)

. . . and shit, it's only wednesday!

addendum:

i am so happy. really i am.

does this make me a hermit?

here i am, avoiding the ninfa's christmas party at the spanish moon. i decided against going. for several reasons. i just worked the second of three doubles in a row. the next one starts at ten thirty wednesday morning. my feet hurt. my back hurts. my head hurts. i am beat.

but the real reason i didn't go . . .

. . . is because i don't really like the people i work with.

not that i don't like them. it's just, i don't feel comfortable around them. i don't feel like one of them. their interests lie in things like the sexual politics of the restaurant, going to bogie's, and the o.c.

i cannot get excited about these things.

it's not that i don't like to have fun. anyone who knows me knows that i enjoy a good time.

but i have other interests. my main concerns are making sure i see enough sunrises, lightning storms, meteor showers, eclipses, and sunsets, while i still have time. reading as much great literature as possible. writing. learning. debating.

everyone at the party would be trying to hook up with someone else. i don't want to hook up with anyone i work with. none of them are interesting enough to pursue, and random hookups with coworkers usually end up badly.

i feel so antisocial.

is it wrong that i'd rather stay home and smoke a bowl with lee instead?

darn that dream . . .

you've got to love billie holiday. no, really, you do.

it is around eight thirty on this friday evening and here i sit alone, and lonely.

i feel so stuck.

and the only place i want to go is farther than i can get.

i am making the best of this situation. really, i am.

i am seeing beautiful things everyday, just like you said i should.

i am smiling. i am laughing. i am drinking. i am lusting.

but mostly, i am loving.

i will make a jump

forward in time.

i will make time

and destroy it.

we are the authors. we are the builders.

my heart is full to bursting.

blown to bits

phew, what a week. it has been a week of excess and debauchery, of driving to new orleans and back (twice!). it has been a good week.

a poem:

there came a sound like sex
through the wall,
of squeaky bedcoils, squawky love

the old iron bedframe
was a cage
in which two birds
flapped and flailed,
red and yellow,
dressed in their mating plumage

i lay there and considered whether
a dog's ears perk
when he hears the wild pants of
two dogs humping

or is the young fawn excited
if he detects the
amorous groanings of
the doe and the buck

right where i left off . . .

i'm having deja vu. i feel like it's the summer again (except for the cold ass weather and a few missing companions . . .). now that school's out, i've been partying every bit as hard as i was before the semester started. jonathan and his brother have been here for two days. all we have done is gotten drunk and stoned, and i've managed to go to work a couple times. but fuck it. i made a 4.0 again this semester and i've only got one left.

drove lee to mandeville last night so that he could handle some business. his heater is out, and he didn't want to drive in the cold. i was drunk and high of course, so i offered to drive. jonathan and matthew and lauren passed out at my house, and we hit the road. we got back just before midnight, safe and sound, a zone heavier than before we left.

i realize that from the outside, my life seems pretty irresponsible, maybe even kinda crazy. the thing is, no matter how much i drink and smoke, and no matter what drugs i take, or what crazy journeys i embark upon, i have learned how to balance all that with being a functional human being. i vote, i work, i pay my taxes, i make good grades.

so anyway, i foresee this winter break going by in a blur, just like the summer. days are already becoming indistinguishable from one another. a comfortable rhythm of working, eating, partying, and sleeping has begun to emerge.

it's beginning to look a lot like christmas.

the world is turning in on itself and so am i . . .

winter is a time for self-reflection.

today i went and had lunch, alone, at chelsea's. i ate a veggie burger and some kick ass pasta salad. i sat on the patio and read. i enjoyed the weather, and a beer.

i also found out that somehow, despite my best efforts at skipping class, i made an "a" in my poetry writing workshop. so, i decided to post one of the poems that appeared in my final portfolio. here it is, for what it's worth:

Apology of a Chimpanzee

I only saw your calves, taut like rubberbands,
and the feminine way you walked;
never your face.
I am sorry I stared
(You must excuse me,
eyes being mainly controlled
by the more bestial side of me).

The pair were shielded by the fog of the canopy
Her nose crimson, her eyes fierce,
she is a feral cat.
It was then he decided:
“I do not love you
(and your cocaine addiction concerns me);
still, let us make our human collage.”

The blue angel glow of the television
was enough to see her thin fingers,
like chicken bones
and the soft curve of her shoulder,
an ivory tusk.
Her skin was fish cold
and unfamiliar.

The devil has said,
"There is only one woman, and many faces."
And I find myself asking,
"Are we only animals caught in this hips-and-ass game?"

problem: corrected

so i hear that no one could vote in the poll because my blog wouldn't allow anonymous comments. well, i fixed that. so post away, bitches.

can you hear me major tom?

so clint left today at noon for paris, france. i have a final in a little over three hours, as well as a paper due tonight, and one due tomorrow at noon. i have done this to myself. and i don't care.

at this point in my life, i feel like i'm in the first car of a giant rollercoaster. every day is one click closer to the top of the first big hill, at which heighth i'll be able to survey my life below me, sprawling. potential energy is building. soon i will be running on my own momentum.

i am going to miss everyone this christmas. clint and breton, and jason and izzy, and jake and travis. i hope you all read this. and i hope you all know that i love you.

i am getting nearer to my goal of loving the world for what it is, and not what i'd hoped it might be.

a poll

so i've gotten to a point where i no longer care about my hair. i mean, personally, i like it long. but unlike samson, my long hair doesn't give me the strength of ten men -- it only seems to bring me bad luck. i think long hair traps negative karma or something. maybe i'm just being superstitious. anyway, i've decided to take a poll, once and for all, to decide what i should do. your options: 1) short or 2) long. post a comment, cast your vote -- it would really help me out.

closer to fine

yes, i stole the title of this post from the indigo girls. that song really speaks to me in some way. it has myriad meanings. it makes me think of the fortress. and that part about going to see the doctor of philosophy, i mean, come on. "spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper, and i was free . . ." just a few more months.

today i:

1) took the lsat and was not nervous one bit. i treated it like i do the jumble in the newspaper. you know, a game.

2) composed a formal, handwritten letter. haven't done that in years.

3) decided that my life has some meaning.

4) realized that it's been a long time since i've been in love.

5) wondered how i became so cold.

in case some of you haven't yet read "the prophet" by kahlil gibran, a passage:

love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
but if you love and must needs have desires,
let these be your desires:
to melt and be like a running brook
that sings its melody to the night.
to know the pain of too much tenderness.
to be wounded by your own understanding of love;
and to bleed willingly and joyfully.
to wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving;
to rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
to return home at eventide with gratitude;
and then to sleep with a prayer for the
beloved in your heart and a song of praise
upon your lips.

shaping up . . .

looks like today's gonna turn out to be a good one, even though it shouldn't be. i woke up at seven to do all the schoolwork i failed to do last night. i had one table at work, and they screwed me. but despite all that, the sky was gorgeous this morning when i drove to work. i was high and listening to good music. and i didn't give a shit.

thanks to breton for making me see something beautiful.