"It's a goddamn impossible way of life."

There are times when I really wish I knew where the hell Cory was. These times occur when I find something that he would really like or come upon a piece of knowledge that he would find particularly useful. This time it's The Band but more specifically Robbie Robertson. Not only is Robertson one of the sweetest, most badass guitarists I've ever seen, he had a style Cory would totally be bonered up over. Beyond that though he has some words of wisdom that I could see Cory getting excited over, entranced by, falling victim to something like the short quote below, which does Robertson absolutely no justice because the context in which it was said was profound and very meaningful. Despite my best judgement I decided to insert it below. I love the last two sentences. Totally badass.

"The road was our school, giving us a sense of survival, taught us all we know, there's not much left that we can really take from the road, we've had our share of--or maybe it's just superstitious... no, you can press your luck, the road has taken a lot of the great ones: Hank Williams, Buddy Holly, Otis Redding, Janis, Jimmy Hendrix, Elvis. It's a goddamn impossible way of life. No question about it."

"We let the runners win."

So it goes.

Oh God it's Cleveland and Bob Hope

With certain seasons come certain habits and desires and on the short winter days I find myself drawn to listening to my records. I usually listen to Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy and Smog, a bit of Bob Dylan and Neil Young—all very warm and comforting, like home. It is unfortunate, then, that my receiver remains dismantled in the shop of a friend of Tim’s. The cost to rectify my hasty mistake: $250. This is also the estimated cost of a new windshield. The decision is clear. So instead of enjoying the crackle and pop of vinyl under a nicely broken-in stylus, I have to listen to my iPod through an alarm clock thing with one speaker…Needless to say it sucks.

I’ve been reading Slaughterhouse—Five and though it’s been a bit since I’ve read Vonegut I fell right back into it, easily, nearly habitually. I was pleasantly reminded of how much I enjoy his style of writing compared to others such as Melville. Vonegut’s grammar is simple but the theory behind this work—and much of his other stuff—can be quite complicated. He is a brilliant satirist (satire happens to be my favorite) and I find myself laughing from time to time at his dry sense of humor. I am very grateful I stumbled upon this little book. It’s nice to not have homework for a while, the absence of it allows for more spontaneous indulgence and relaxing afternoons.

Things with Paul (not Chipotle Paul, NIPP Paul) are going well.

I’m looking forward to a ski trip George and I planned with her brothers; I’m waaay pumped.

Ron is coming home; I’m very pumped to have lunch with him at Chipotle.

Pat’s was good this weekend—thank god.

BTW Family Guy is hilAAArious.

Final Grades....

Interpersonal Communication: A
Masterpieces of Literature: B
Principles of Microeconomics: A

^_^

Ah, L'Amour

^_^

Lotion Makes You Slippery

Jugs Are for Juice

"You say 'what did you do with him today' and sniffed me out like I was Tanqueray"

In my presumptuous way of thinking, I am fairly certain that I will be able to dominate this literature class. It seems that the "critical thinking" includes all sorts of different types of analysis, approaching the poem or story or whatever from many angles (psychological, sociological, biographical, historical, etc). Which is something that I do anyway, though it's contained within my thoughts- never written down. If I find that I enjoy this class beyond any other (like I have with psychology) I'm afraid that my major will change once again (though not with the college, I am still undeclared as far as they're concerned).

MG is ridiculous. I don't even find it necessary to talk about that fucking place when I'm not there. The only reason I find myself thinking of it is because I'm reminded of talking with Ryan today and it's not even that we talked about anything profound but I found myself comforted in the chaos. Much like he used to do when he was there. It was nice.

The chaos I refer to was created by the termination of Diana who has been there through all of the April debacle and since my days in Agent Services. It's fucking HORRIBLE when something like this happens. First of all she was a friend to many but just the simple fact of putting yourself in her shoes... she was working two jobs and selling make-up on the side. She has kids and stuff. This is HORRIBLE. I feel just fucking terrible. ;_; Now that I'm away and I don't have to pretend to be unaffected I find myself overwhelmed by sadness, disbelief, anger, and more fucking sadness.

But thinking about it does nothing for her. It changes nothing. So we shall move on.

Amy Winehouse is the man. With the exception of all of the alcohol and drugs (does she do drugs? I don't even know...). BUT more importantly than being the man she is a badass. Including all of the alcohol and drugs (if she doesn't do them she should because that would complete her even more. j/k... kind of...) .

My stereo receiver will be fixed soon. Tim is going to take it to work with him and have one of the dudes there do some shit to it which should hopefully correct whatever problem this thing is having.

Waiting for Clarice...

I guess I'm about done here. One final thought I find myself having: it is really weird how you can convince yourself you like something, like McDonalds for example. But if you go without it for a while you realize how fucking terrible it is for you... maybe good for someone else... but not for you at all... with all of its falsities and capitalistic ways of thinking, very "selfish" and shit.

I expect Clarice any moment now. Better go.

^_^

B on my test
B on my project

^_^

Microecon is turning out to be less difficult than I thought it was going to be, especially regarding this second project. Although there is some math, most of it is simple, you're reminded of it as you begin to do it again. In fact, I am willing to say that I could receive a perfect grade on this current project. All it basically consists of is solving for x.

Literature begins tomorrow. I am so PUMPED!!!

My happiness is somewhat muted though, due to the sad state of my stereo receiver.

When I was living with Saira I had hooked it up all half- assed- the speaker wires were kind of mangled looking and all tangled so it was because of my haphazard technicianry a fuse was blown.

Earlier in the week I took the outer casing crap off of the receiver and managed to retrieve the little guy who was all blackened and sad looking. ;_;

So yesterday I went to Listen Up! which is where I got the receiver and the dude gave me two brand new fuses for free!!! So nice!!!! ^_^ I came home yesterday afternoon and I put the nice new fuse in its little prongs inside the receiver. I clipped those fucking wires man, it took me foreeeeeeeeverrrrrrr. You have to be so careful not to cut too deep with the wire cutters otherwise the obvious thing will happen. Which didn't happen but because I was so afraid of that I was barely squeezing the handles of the cutters so it was excruciatingly painstaking and was a true test of my patience. But I managed to do it. So I plugged everything in, very mindful of the stupid speaker wires, making sure that the negative ones aren't even close to the positive ones... I turned it on... It popped. Just like the last time.
;_; x 20

My heart is broken. I bought five new records last Sunday. And six new ones a long time ago, before I moved in with Saira. They've never been listened to. -_-

I'm going to dinner with parents tomorrow night and Tim is going to stop by to take a look at it. He did tell me that each of the two fuses represents a side: right and left. So any one of the left or right cords on the CD player, turntable, or speakers could be fucked. Or it could be something with the receiver itself which would suck more because I'm sure it will be more costly than the two dollars I'd spend on a fuse.

Such is life.

I bought the second season of Weeds... I'm pumped to go watch it now (before more studying... my second econ exam is next week).

Sarah Palin Is So Cute.

Too bad she's such a douche.

"The governor who said, "Hold me accountable," is hiding behind the hired guns of the McCain campaign to avoid accountability."

to read more: http://www.adn.com/opinion/story/531725.html

A George W. Hotdog!?

I'm pretty sure that I dominated my test today. Amazingly enough I remembered all of the math stuff I learned last night, probs because I was dreaming about it all night long. I'm pretty pumped and relieved! And it occured to me that maybs I should get a degree in Creative Writing although I would have to wait until after I get my bachelors because there aren't any appealing schools in CO that offer a BA in the subject. :( So I think what I'll do is get my BA in Psychology, quit working at MG, get a job at a research facility or something, and then get my masters in Creative Writing online through DU. I feel much better now that I've chosen some direction.

My lower back is killing me for some reason.

I might go visit my Nana today but I'm not really sure if I should because she really likes to talk about politics and she's stubborn. We're a lot alike with one exception: she's a republican. She didn't used to be which is why it's so hard for me. I mean Bill Ritter was her BFF, almost literally; I remember him coming to Christmas dinner a couple of times. He adored her and her him. So that's why it's so mind boggling to me... And then I remember she watches the news.

I can't watch the news anymore. PBS is pretty good although I prefer to get my news from NPR. It just seems that everything the rest of them say is a lie or is missing big important chunks of information. Karl Cassel reports. Contessa Brewer regurgitates Shephard Smith. And not well I must add. Clarice and I were eating lunch one day a couple of weeks ago and Contessa was "reporting" on a building that had collapsed. She kept stumbling over her words and I mean everything that came out of her mouth was littered with pauses, mispronunciations, and hesitance. She sucks. Condi Rice does a better job bullshitting than this woman and of course Condi has to but if the news networks, in their government- serving ways, are in charge of convincing us of this or that you'd think they'd have someone who actually has experience being a news anchor rather than this Britney Spears spin-off.

HOWEVER there are a couple of anchors on MSNBC that I love. Keith Olbermann mmmmmm. And not just mmmmmm because he's hot and intelligent but also because he's not scared of telling it how it is and even though he's biased it's necessary in this day and age. You have to balance out Bill O'Rielly with someone. Just like the balance of Jon Stewart (also mmmmm) and Steven Colbert (totally mmmmm) and although Colbert is just playing a role you still get my point. Chris Matthews is also the man.

All of this just keeps going back to the same point I've been trying to make lately. It's frightening how obvious it is. This country is supposed to be setting the standards for the rest of world, being the powerful nation it is. What kind of example do we set when our media is controlled? How is this any different from a dictatorship? Okay that might be going too far but for real this is nonsense. Or NINsense. LOL Clax!!!!

To end, I'm going to quote this woman from Robert Greenwald's UNCONVERED: the whole truth about the Iraq war which is actually more of an addition to the post below, in rebuttle to the teacher who said he doesn't care if other countries think we're stupid:

"You don't want your president to be seen as a 'hotdog' and when your president gets into a jumpsuit and gets in the back of a jet and lands on an aircraft carrier and then waddles out with his little straps between his legs... you want a sign of a kind of maturity and not testosterone blasting through when you're talking about things so fundamentally important as sending a nation to war and sending young men and women to their deaths."

Waking Dream

I'd like to preface this by saying I realize how often I talk about Trent Reznor, I realize he's all over my blog, and I'm quite aware of the image I portray by doing such things.

That being said, I'd like to talk about this political side of Trent Reznor I'm always referring to. I've posted his lyrics a couple of times and while they certainly speak for themselves I think it may take a bit of persuading to make my point.

" Turn it up/listen to the shit they pump into your head/filling you with apathy" (Great Destroyer, Year Zero)

Clarice pointed out that this song may be representative of the media. Just like Chomsky talks about, the media has control over us and the government has control over them. Robert Greenwald illustrates this in his documentary Out Foxed. Trent Reznor has complimented this realization musically. Literature, film, and music- beautiful!

Watching MSNBC today made me realize the far reach of the conservative capitalists like Rupert Murdoch. They were basically endorsing McCain and dragging Obama through the mud. The news is the education of the people. From it we learn what goes on in the world around us, who is making the important decisions, and how these decisions may or may not affect us. When the source of our education becomes biased we too become biased and unrealistic. I made this point earlier in my essay regarding the media. There's really no need to restate my point here.

"Hypnotic sound of siren/echoing through the street/The cocking of the rifles/the marching of the feet/You see your world on fire/don't try to act surprised/We did just what you told us/
Lost our faith along the way and found ourselves believing your lies/I got my propaganda I got revisionism/I got my violence I got ultra-realism/I'm a part of this great nation/I got my fist I got my plan I got survivalism. " (Survivalism, Year Zero)

This revolution, this gesture, in all of its outspoken poetic-ness, serves as a reminder that I am not alone. When I feel like giving up, when I feel that I don't feel like I can bear the burden of knowledge any longer, I listen to this song. It rejuvenates my passion for change. And not really Obama-style change but some real change. He's good enough though. I do find myself searching for such a leader, a revolutionary, someone tangible, reachable. Celebrity has come between my idols and myself: Chomsky, Greenwald, Hoffman (well with him it's death but still), and now Reznor. Disappointing as it may be these dudes have left quite an impression on me, one that I don't think can ever be change or taken away. Once your eyes are open they're open. And as with politics my eyes have been opened to Nine Inch Nails. I always had the misconception that he was super angry or unnecessarily hostile but that's only because I never really paid any attention to his lyrics. Now that I have I can't stop listening to him.

" Just how deep do you believe/Will you bite the hand that feeds/Will you chew until it bleeds/Can you get up off your knees/Are you brave enough to see/Do you want to change it?" (Hand That Feeds, With Teeth)

This is a beautiful, powerful statement. Through and through it's quite obvious to me what he is saying.

The reason I'm giving these examples is not to sell NIN to you. It is to talk about the people who listen to NIN. Not people like me or Clarice. Scary people. Like Sarah Palin.

I'm going to cut out a lot of the bullshit even though I feel it's all important. I posted this:

Let’s ask our friends in countries outside of the United States how they, their friends, families, neighbors, and government view the United States. Stupid is probably one of the words you hear the most.

This was posted in response... by a teacher:

"First, I don't particularly care if other countries think we're stupid."

Do I even really need to say anything?! Are you serious? This guy goes onto say that he does care about our diplomatic relations with other countries but I fail to see how the intelligence of our leader doesn't affect that.

I've saved the best for last. Posted by a 33 year old "Alpha Female" from Chicago:

"I am not worries about Palin setting back women. Women are setting themselves back with or without her by the bad decisions they make in their lives already that will affect their economic welfare of their lives and their children...Studies show that single, unwed mothers are the poorest women of all in American society. And chicks still crapping out babies out their holes without getting married. Lots of women. Seems like many ain't carring about birth control nor abortion. Sounds like many women Democrats are pro-Palin to me, because if you don't use it....you lose it."

I'm quoting this shit as it was posted. Swear to the universe itself.

Here is the point of this post. How can these ignorant individuals listen to the music made by the same man who wrote the lyrics I posted above? I can post even more because basically all of the songs by Mr. Reznor are political in nature. I'm serious, all of his albums are 99% political. Sometimes I think he sings about love but really who knows with that crap, I certainly don't shit. Go to nin.com and download Y34RZ3R0R3M1X3D. Trust me, you will not be disappointed. This album is a remix of Year Zero. My god in heaven I wonder as I sit here if it is in fact one of the best albums I've ever heard and with confidence I can conclude that yes it is.

These people are lunatics. Conservative republican Christians all over this thing while Trent is singing about the fact that "Your god is dead and no one cares." There was someone who posted something saying that they actually like John McCain. This is after Reznor posted his views on the front page of the site, facetious tone and all.

I don't have the naive expectation that everyone in the world or United States is a liberal like me. But I do assume that people are at least a bit liberal in their views when they start rocking out to Great Destroyer or Capital G or whatever.

This is the kind of reality we live in. One where absolutely nothing makes sense. A waking dream.

I'll end with this, words from the mouth of the man himself:

"One step closer to the end of the world. The one-two combo of corporate greed and organized religion apparently proved to be too much for reason, sanity and compassion."

My PPF when it comes to studying

I cannot find my motivation to study. I keep finding all kinds of little things to distract me:

I've looked over the three new CDs I bought this weekend.

I've watched the entire first season of Weeds.

I found the artist responsible and name of the song George liked that we heard on Friday.

I read two articles- one on Palin and one on NIN- Dugg them both.

I checked my email and responded to the two I had after which I checked my Myspace and responded to my messages, approved two new friends, and requested to be the friend of three people.

I have a project due tomorrow and a test that has to be taken by Saturday. Dude, this is serious. I have to read three chapters. I slacked terribly last week; preoccupation thanks to Reznor McMillen, Clarice, and the ghost in my house. Who by the way creeped my the fuck out on Friday night. I could barely sleep. Bastard.

I keep trying to read. For example: twice while writing this I have stopped to make some attempt but alas I find my mind drifting off to think of other things. Economics is boring. It's gross. Demand, supply, and market equilibrium are not enjoyable things to learn about, not even that cool to know about either. Plus it's reminding me of math. All of the stupid fucking graphs everywhere. My god in heaven. Here's something for you:

As the level of my boredom rises while reading, the motivation (amount) it takes to make such effort diminishes.

I call this "Perfect Example of How Bored I Really Am". The good thing about it is I am applying some of the things I've learned. This little thing shows my Production Possibility Frontier (or production possibility curve on the graph).

I suppose I'll try to work on my project now. Hopefully that won't require much more reading from the book.

34 Ghosts IV

I've been wondering if I'm chanting for the wrong man
or if chanting for any man, is wrong
is there a contradiction to the truth
or is the truth a contradiction to reality
forgive me
I wonder if I should go home
and wash this dirty hair of mine
remove the smell
of the cold and of the breath
forgive me
as my eyes draw to a close
as I turn my face from yours
an attempt to shelter you from my disgust
that of which is evoked by that sinner's heart of yours
forgive me
while I slip away
melt away
blow away
carry me on the wind of your words
let me drizzle down window panes
slide under the door and dangle with skeletons
forgive me
while I break up
and out
and free
all I want is to be free
to not be afraid
for the son of my friend
or for my friend
or even for
the friends of my friend
cowering in the night
all of us separated
fearful and searching
for answers that will never come
forgive me
sleep soundly
death will linger in the door way
and will haunt your every step
it will whisper sweet nothings in your ear
but think of the life in the eyes of your last lover
and fall into her
forgive me
hide far from thieves who roam the avenues
sneaking in and out of shadows
plotting and planning, threatening
following the dust of your footprints
a single light will show
the courage of what losing is like
the lost companion of your soul
a loss for explanation
of where your strength has come from
forgive me
as we run together
from the men of this world who've come to clip our wings
who bathe us in their ideals and values
their ideas of gods and wars and oil dripping thick from the branches
dripping thick on our shoulders
forgive me
for speaking so clearly
so properly
and so poignantly
it's just like you taught me
I've done just as you've said
and now I've come to the end
of this winding road
to this empty conclusion
and I wonder
where the fuck have I been
and what did you ever really teach me anyway
and then I stop
I look around
my eyes wide in disbelief
as I hear all of these people while they speak
gospel spilling from their mouths
like blood
like the blood of my savior, and that of your savior, the savior of
all of our impure hideousness
this collective mass of a killing machine
collectively together, we breathe with hate and greed,
one bated only by some singular malfunction
a kink in the chain
forgive me
for ever questioning
or learning anything out of curiosity
forgive me
for every blasphemous word
that has ever left this filthy mouth of mine
forgive me
for wanting something better
for a quality that of which is quite attainable
forgive me
for caring unbiasedly
and for loving every last one of you
forgive me
for every linguistically manipulated sentence
for every time I've cursed your name
forgive me
for being so me
for being every little thing that I am
and for every fucking thing that I am not
forgive me
for me
and for the reasons that I fail
for I have failed
and will fail
until I have failed for one last time
and I will falter
and fall to the ground
in a position the same as my fathers
the dirt dark and cold
no where for anything that's left of me to go
forgive me
I will linger
and breathe in the earth
and question my choices
my morals, my mistakes
and every last eye that mine got to meet
under moon or starlight gazing distantly
as if our eyes could possibly reach
the horizon just beyond
flickering and dancing
ebbing and flowing
the way water tends to do
in rapid succession
splashing onto the tiny granules
smoothing all of their rough edges
the way I had hope to do with you
but something inside you has gone
and all that's left
is a far off sound
some percussion instrument pounding solemnly
lifelessly
pointlessly
the beating of a tone
deep underneath
it gets louder the farther we reach
as we strain every muscle
in desperate attempts
to grasp the ungettable nothingness
or to perhaps touch it too hastily
like that of broken glass
gleaming
and so mischievously
like children
we strain once again, one final time
until finally we find
we are touching the edge of the ocean
with our bare little finger tips
and as was foreseen
we breathed together just as in my dreams
I'll ask with one last begging plea
in my isolation
in the solitude that is myself
for all of my destruction
please
forgive me

Title & photo courtesy (and copyright of course) of T. Reznor, http://ghosts.nin.com/
Words inspired by the music of T. Reznor and A. Ross

The funniest thing I've heard all day:

And I quote (I'm sorry I couldn't resist...)

"I don't want to meet this 'quoter' who doesn't quote anyone."
~Clax






I'm very concerned about quoting now. I'm very paranoid Clarice. Very paranoid indeed.

Sometimes I think I can see right through myself...

"I guess I am alone, then again I always was, as far back as I can tell, I think maybe it's because you were never really real to begin with, I just made you up to hurt myself."

One of the many things I find appealing about music is the way we read between the lines... the way we make the words of someone else our own, creating a new meaning, a new song. I suppose we're accurate with our analysis on some occasion... but sometimes we're biased, fitting the lyrics to a circumstance that we think fits appropriately.

In this instance when I hear the words written above I fit them in a political fashion because that's what suits me. While this statement could be interpreted as being derived from some sort of internal reflection, a psychoanalysis of oneself, I prefer to think on a less obvious plane. Which may not be correct by any means however the song still accomplishes its intention which is to somehow communicate or connect or relate to individuals on a personal level. Music has been serving this purpose for almost as long as human beings have existed; it's almost a necessary component to life some of my friends will argue. It's an emotional, creative extension of the artist, one that finds its way to another individual possibly stirring the same emotional creative outcome or that of another kind but all the same, influencing, effecting, provoking all sorts of reactions (which with a Buddhist mentality one can say that music is, in its own right, a representation of karma, the ultimate cause and effect of behaviors, actions, and decisions).

And so when I sing these words I sing them in a facetious tone, one that is directed to the man who will be leaving a mess to the next, and I shake my head in disbelief of this illusion of democracy, which is more like a mockery, allowing people to believe that they actually mean something. demockracy. lol.

[Song lyrics provided by T. Reznor (LOL I guess not literally provided by him specifically for use in this post but it sounds cool so that's the end of it.)]


Paranoid. About. Quoting.

"I pushed the button and elected him to office and
He pushed the button and he dropped the bomb
You pushed the button and could watch in on the television
Those motherfuckers didn't last too long

I'm sick of hearing about the have's and have not's
Have some personal accountability
The biggest problem with the way that we are doing things is
The more we let you have the less that I'll be keeping for me

Well I use to stand for something
Well I'm on my hands and knees
Turning in my god for this one and he signs his name with a capital G

Don't give a shit about the temperature in Guatemala
Don't really see what all the fuss is about
Ain't gonna worry about no future generations
And I'm sure somebody's gonna figure it out

Don't try to tell me that some power can corrupt a person
You hadn't had enough to know what it's like
You're only angry cause you wish you were in my position
Now nod your head cause you know that I'm right..alright!

Well I use to stand for something
But forgot what that could be
There's a lot of me inside you
Maybe you're afraid to see

Well I use to stand for something
Well I'm on my hands and knees
Turning in my god for this one and he signs his name with a capital G"

~T. Reznor


Quoted prior to the PTSD caused by PMing the man who wants to fuck everyone (LOL Cla).

This is some damn good writing

I refuse to settle for loving the idea of a man who does not exist. He is nothing more than the faintness that breath leaves behind on mornings like this. He is nothing to me. No birthday wishes, no matter how lovely they are spoken, can be true and free of hate or disgust or egotistical motivations. While my heart sank and my knees gave way to a weight I didn't realize I had, there was nothing there. It was as if he had been a used transparency, one that the teacher had scribbled on so many times it appeared gray. But suddenly, as if my presence was water, the transparency had been washed clean, and I could see right through it. It's pathetic motivations, it's pompous and self serving eyes. I still picture your face and the way you used to taste but only in dreams of you for the reality of who you appear to be is faded and bitter. Appearance is everything.

"I just made you up to hurt myself..."

I received my books for literature today and written on the edges of one of the volumes is this:


Yeah that's kind of disconcerting. Just a bit. I read through some of it briefly because it really rattled me seeing this... it's like OMFG is this really that bad?? It's not though, I could see myself reading this for enjoyment in my spare time.

I also started reading the first chapter of my econ book. I don't enjoy it as much especially considering they're stating things that are common knowledge or perhaps these things aren't common knowledge but instead I'm some sort of economical genius which is entirely plausible but unlikely. They're saying stuff like: every day you're using things that were made by different people in different countries and we also make things that other countries buy like food. They go on listing all kinds of crap for an example which I decided to type out right here for you so you can bear witness to the insanity that appears to be lurking behind the next page...

"You use or consume tens of thousands of things, both tangible and intangible, every day: buildings, rock music, compact discs, telephone services, staples, paper, toothpaste, tweezers, soap, digital watches, fire protection, banks, electricity, eggs, insurance, football, fields, computers, buses, rugs, subways, heath services, sidewalks, and so forth."

Are you fucking kidding me?!!?!?!? THIS IS THE COLLEGE EDUCATION I'M PAYING FOR?!!?!? These are empty concepts like pointing out that the sky is blue or hating liars. These are things that are agreed upon and known; we're not that stupid are we???????????

In fact, yes we are. Well not me specifically because I'm far more intelligent than most of the population (not to be ridiculously cocky or anything but this is true). Most of my friends are also of decent intelligence which is greatly appreciated by myself for if I didn't have them I would have lost what's left of my mind long ago. What you're left with is the rest of them. Uneducated and blind and obviously fucking stupid beyond measure if they're writing shit like that in a college textbook. It's insulting to me. It honestly is. How did my friends and I become so smart? By opening our fucking eyes that's how... And seeking out knowledge, refusing to succumb to being the puddle on the couch that is a video- gaming, generation whatever, gas guzzling, self- righteous moron. I play video games, but not all of the time. I would like to enjoy life at least a bit, experience something other than digitized graphics and McDonalds. Gross.

This is America. Don't even get my started, really I have too much to say. Clarice and I decided we need to start writing dissertations on all of this shit because we both could go on for hours and hours about the dysfunction of the world, our country, our government, and the stupid people around us.

I guess the person who owned my literature book was desperate... so am I...I don't know that I'll make it through this econ class if its this patronizing...help me...


Title quote by T. Reznor

(Yes, I've been listening to an awful lot of him lately... you should give him a listen. I prefer his more political songs, try the album Year Zero.)

Main Entry:

¹quote

Pronunciation:

\ˈkwōt also ˈkōt\

Function:...transitive verb1 a: to speak or write (a passage) from another usually with credit acknowledgment b: to repeat a passage from especially in substantiation or illustration c: borrow 2a <quoting the motifs of past artists>

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/quote

Este amor apasionado, anda todo alborotado por volver.

I'm pretty pumped for school to start. Summer has felt like forever as far as that goes. I had become used to textbooks being scattered on the floor of my bedroom and residual papers taped to the mirror and/or door that I used for last minute cram sessions. I found myself craving for stimulation of some kind (not that kind until more recently) and before I noticed, I realized I've read seven books since July, I guess six because Chomsky's is a pamphlet.

Speaking of Chomsky I ordered another pamphlet (the next one in the series) and a few other books that I am on the edge of my seat to receive. Amazon is probs the best thing since Chipotle (a more reasonable comparison: Google). I used it to order my school books, some movies and a couple of CDs, not to mention the four books and pamphlet for recreational reading. Pretty sweet. I saved almost $100 on my textbooks which was very welcome considering my Econ book is like $150 USED at the campus bookstore. What the hell does a hundred dollar book do for me that is worthy of such a price?! Education? I scoff at such incredulous bullshit. I feel that I pay enough as it is...

But back to the point, I am excited:

Principles of Microeconomics
Masterpieces of Literature: 1700 to current
Interpersonal Communication

I really can't wait. Soon I'll be complaining though, either about some professor or classmate or assignment or grade.

With the exception of being a total dork who's excited for school, I'm excited to report a couple of other pieces of news:

I finished my first real painting of a cartoon Cthulu which is so freaking cute (squashy) I wish it was real so I would be able to cuddle with it and such. Bubble gum pink background, black- outlined little Cthulu whose lime green with yellow wings on canvas board. Super cute. ^_^

I've started writing again which is so important. But not writing little aching love songs about not getting whom I desire (which I'm not but life isn't fair, yeah?) I've been writing these little mini novels, novelettes if you will.

By fate or by chance I came home on Saturday night-morning after drinking with Saira & Angelica at around 1:45 (I think but am not entirely sure on the time). I turned on my stereo which is permanently tuned to 90.1 (NPR) and laid down in my bed to sleep when all of a sudden this amazing song... probs the most beautiful thing I've heard in a while, at least since the last time I listened to the Frames. She was singing in Spanish with this lovely little guitar melody in the background and occasionally a saxophone after the chorus or break down. I was tired and had been drinking so I tried hard to remember something the British DJ was saying, any little hint of something that would be used as a tag when I Googled... Alas, the following day I could not remember much of anything except "world of music" which is a pretty common term, as I found out, and did little to help me at first.

After a good 40 minutes of searching NPR and CPR, I finally came to BBC World Service (I cursed my self for being such an ass, why did I not think of that... there is no explanation). And then finally after my contacts were dry in my eyes, I saw it: Charlie Gillett's World of Music.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/programmes/charlie_gillett.shtml

There is a schedule below the player. The song that struck me so is called Volver, Volver by Buika. If you use WMP to play it I don't believe there is any way to fast forward through the program to hear that song and I have yet to try QT. But really take that as a privilege, all of these songs are freaking awesome and definitely worth a listen. I suppose it depends entirely on your taste and the openness of your mind but I'm pretty confident most who read this have both. I would hope. ;)

California 2008

Day 1: Woke up at 4:00 am. Picked up Larissa at 5:40, coffee, gas, airport. Departed for LAX at 8:32 am.

I sat next to the most obnoxious woman on the airplane. It was all I could do to lose myself in Chomsky's Media Control. She had false nails and clicked them on everything; the seat-back table, the plastic armrests, and she even clicked them against her also-false thumb nails. She took her Crock off of her right foot and crossed her leg so that her sweaty, socked foot was millimeters from touching my leg. There was even the threat of an altercation, one she extended to the mother of a seven year old child. I don't really care to recall it in detail- but it should serve to say that in addition to be obnoxious she was ridiculous and tactless as well.

Arrived at 11:03 am (PST)
We were waiting for our baggage. I thought I'd snap a picture, perhaps in an attempt to capture our jet-lag or perhaps to intentionally catch Riss making such a face. After we gathered ourselves, we picked up the rental car and headed to In & Out (which we frequented over the next seven days). We received some sort of a discount due to, what I assume, the crush the dude behind the counter had on Larissa. He saved us close to $200. :)

In & Out was fantastic. It was like the way you know your mother's house smells and the assurance you get when greeted by it at the front door. Fabulous. We went to Venice afterwards and met a very nice dude by the name of Leo. His dirty, blond hair hung in his face and covered his eyes, which didn't seem to be able to fix upon anything. He and his friends were sitting in the shade holding signs asking for money for marijuana. Neither Larissa nor I had any cash to offer but the conversation, advice, and assistance was greatly appreciated by all involved.

We had to hit up Target on the way to the hotel because we both forgot beach towels. Geniuses. The hotel was nicer, much cleaner, than the Ramada we stayed at last summer. Plus this was in Manhattan Beach, I really couldn't have asked for a nicer city to stay in besides Venice or San Fran. There was tons of hot dudes everywhere because we had come during the International Surf Festival. Although we didn't see any surfing there, we did see some in Santa Monica.

After walking around a bit we decided to take naps at the hotel before dinner. We slept through the night.

Day 2: Woke up at 8:15 am, coffee, breakfast, showers, bathing suits.






We drove down the coast to Santa Monica but weather wasn't permitting so we decided to drive along the Pacific Coast Hwy.
We drove for about forty-five minutes until we turned around; the sun seemed to be coming out.







The beach was fantastic for the rest of the day. We went to dinner at L.A. Food Show; I had the Grilled Thai Chicken which was delicious. We followed dinner with THE best red velvet cake I've ever had and, I imagine, exists. Vanilla bean cream cheese frosting. That's all that needs to be said.

Dinner was followed by drinks which lead to Hollywood and then Gelato. We went to In & Out at around 1:00 for hamburgers and we watched SNL which normally isn't amusing in the slightest but that guy from 40 Year Old Virgin and Pineapple Express was hosting and he did a hilarious sketch, one that Larissa and I will be quoting until the day we die. "I said wheahhhh!!!!!!" LOL.

Day 3: Woke up at 9:00 am, coffee, breakfast, showers.

Admittedly cheesy but almost necessary when visiting, we bought a star map. We only drove by a few houses (Jennifer Aniston's and David Beckham's) but it really satisfies nothing for me. But it was interesting, all of the houses were beautiful and intimidating in both size and luxury. Really nothing that I have ever seen in the 303.
We spent the afternoon in Santa Monica on the pier and had funnel cake and coffee and contemplated going on a ride or two. We settled on pictures from a photo booth and a walk on the beach. The moon was so peaceful reflecting on the water and the sound of the waves crashing was really like no music I'd ever heard but stimulating and captivating all the same. The sand was cold which was nice compared to the burning heat that usually met the bottoms of our feet and we went without speaking for nearly ten minutes, enchanted by all of the sights and sounds.



Dinner was hamburgers and milk shakes from In & Out. She read and I watched some crap on the television and regretted not bringing something more to read with me.

Day 3: Woke up at 8:30 am, coffee, breakfast, showers, Manhattan Beach (aka Manhappenin' Beach).


We parked and spent the day walking around and shopping, and ending up at the beach for a bit. We went into the ocean and I managed to talk her into coming in pretty far. The waves did splash up our backs and necks, getting our hair wet and we were done after that.






We had dinner at some place I've forgotten the name of but I did have some delicious pasta- that I remember.












Drinks and then back to the hotel. We watched a show on A&E I believe... I may be incorrect. Jurassic Fight Club. I highly recommend it. It's fucking sweet.

Day 4: Woke up at 9:45 am, watched Mrs. Doubtfire, coffee, shower, Third Street Promenade.

We shopped for most of the day although I myself didn't do much of it. The Promenade is much like 16th Street Mall with shops and restaurants lining both sides of the sidewalk. We had lunch at yet another place I can't remember the name of. I had some interesting enchiladas... Larissa was told the Mexican food there isn't that great which I seemed to have found out. But all in all it was a nice day, there were street musicians, one who was playing the electric violin. After shopping we went to dinner and had food even less enjoyable than the Cali-Mex enchiladas. The Island. I remember that name. Gross.






Day 5: Woke up at 8:00 am, coffee, breakfast, showers, bathing suits, Santa Monica.



Santa Monica is probably my favorite beach in CA. The sand is really soft and the houses on the west side of the beach are nice to look at when you're tanning your back. We went into the ocean and did some walking around before playing some football

with a couple of dudes from UCLA and having a couple of Cokes before realizing how sunburned we were. We had dinner at In & Out for the last time and we were beginning to get downtrodden thinking about returning to work. I did look forward to coming home; I always miss it when I'm gone.



Day 6: The last day but the best one. Woke up at 8:00 am, coffee, breakfast, the observatory.

I don't think I can begin to describe how incredible the observatory was. So it's a good thing that I took plenty of pictures:
http://www.griffithobs.org/

We watched a little planetarium deal. It was just as cool as this place. It was about our place in the universe- very elementary but entertaining all the same. At the end, the guy narrating said something along the lines of, "When we look out into space and all of the stars are shining back at us, it's as if we're looking home."

I bought myself a shirt with Al Einsteins' face made of stars on it with a quote below: One feels as if one is dissolved and merged into nature

We had lunch at the Stinking Rose in Hollywood or whatevs. It has got to be the best meal I've had. It's a garlic restaurant so everything is covered, sauteed, baked, grilled, etc in it. They even gave us little garlic candies when all was said and done. Really unique and delectable.








Dinner at L.A. Food Show again. Chicken Picata. Mmm. Red velvet cake and ice cream to go, prepared for the following day.



Day 6: Woke up at 4:00 am, shower, last minute packing, checked- out, returned the rental car, left for home at 8:46 am, returned at 10:17 am.