I went to Boston last weekend. Aside from one very quick trip up there a few months back it's the first time I've spent a significant amount of time there in awhile. Towards the end of my time there as a student I was starting to become irritated with it and became incredibly excited to head back home. While I'm content here living in Jersey and working in New York for now, there's no question that I've grown to feel more comfortable in Boston than where I grew up. **

I downloaded the new Nine Inch Nails album, [With_Teeth] to listen to on the ride up there and I'm not so sure I was very pleased with what I heard. Perhaps it was the fact that it was pouring rain while I was listening and I was focusing on the road... or the fact that I was listening to it via my fuzzy iTrip... but it just sounded a bit thin to me.

I'll give it a shot with headphones during my commute home from work today, but in all likelihood I'll be passed out by the end of the first track due to my combined 8 hours of sleep for the entire goddamned weekend. I'm reaching new heights (or depths) in tiredness. For real, this shit is avant-garde. --

According to this article, if you're happy, you're healthy. It later offers up religion as its sole source of scientifically verifiable happiness, while (correctly) indicating that other sources of happiness are unique from person to person and far more elusive. So unless you're prepared to take the plunge into the land of naivety and insanity... the world at large best be prepared to find happiness in a much tougher way, or face the consequences of our unhappy bodies. **

Found a leaked copy of the new Stephen Malkmus album last night.. and I'm pretty darn happy with what I've heard so far. I was dozing in and out of sleep while listening this morning, but I heard the first and ninth tracks in their entireties and couldn't help but be reminded of older Pavement stuff. Pig Lib never did much for me, so it's nice to be pleasantly surprised with Face The Truth. --

Too much booze, too little sleep, and too much coffee has made my heart skittish. And I don't mean in a metaphorical way in which I'm using the word heart to describe the status of my personal life or even mental well being. I mean the beating thing in my chest that makes the blood course through my veins and whatnot. I've always had a slightly irregular heartbeat... but these past few weeks it's gotten a bit creepy. If you listen closely the shit sounds like some experimental trip-hop beat or something. I think I'll try to get more sleep. And maybe drink less coffee. Maybe. **

Been listening to the new Despistado a lot. Not great, but pretty damn good.

Rented Sideways last night. Very good except for the fact that midway through my Playstation 2 decided to stop working... leading me to tinker with wires for about 30 minutes before it inexplicably started playing again. Whatever. Saw Sin City Friday night. The white blood looks like cool whip and I love cool whip. Even the low-fat kind.

A few days late on this one, but I'd have to agree with this chick's review of the song "The Engine Driver" off The Decemberist's Picaresque. It harkens back to the days when people were pegging The D's as being the next Neutral Milk Hotel and shows how moving they could be if they downplayed the showmanship just the teeniest bit. I think Picaresque is a huge step in the right direction, way moreso than Her Majesty was and hope that this tune is a sign of things to come. **

Similar to just about every NY Post sports columnist... I think anyone that took to their feet and saw fit to boo Mariano Rivera yesterday should seriously re-evaluate their lives. It was game three of the first series of the season! It's essentially worthless in almost every regard other than in fueling the overhyped "rivalry"! And you do what? Boo the man that you owe just about all of your Yankee pride to over the past ten years? He's 35! He just got over Bursitis! You should die! Seriously.

Seiously, it's the fucking weather, man. It's very apparent that it's not just something I like to say to cheer myself up anymore.

There was this obsessive compulsive rich kid that lived down the hall from me my freshman year of college that used to have this weird-ass fluorescent light fixture at the foot of his bed. He'd stare into the fucking thing for 15 minutes every morning because he claimed to have some crazy condition in which lack of sunlight made him severely depressed. But he was so petrified of cancer that he had to avoid the real sun at all costs. He wore lots of black and was as pale as a goddamned vampire. At any rate, I never took him or his condition seriously.. because it was way more fun to tell him you had just finished whacking off and watch him cower away from you anytime your hands came within three feet of him.. but maybe there's more to it. It just can't be a coincidence anymore. **

May I cut in?

We need a band name. Not immediately, but sooner rather than later. I think it will help me envision the band we have going on being an actual thing that actually exists in time and space instead of this sorta non-designatable "thing" that "we've got going on". We've started out slow just kicking around a few songs... but last week things really started to solidify. I think we all compliment each other well and can create some pretty cool sounding stuff together. I know I should've learned by now to shut the fuck up about something when I get excited about it, as my words have pretty always come back to bite me in the ass... but I'm thinking that this is something beyond that. Something that's been slowly taking shape in my head for years that I'm not willing to fuck up. Most of the things that end up biting me in the ass are passing type things anyway, this is something that's been stewing inside me since I was a kid. And I'm happy to be doing it with the people I'm doing it with. **

These past few years my winter's have been incredibly cold. Filled with lots of bitterness and a lot of lousy things happening to me. Thankfully, these winters have historically been followed by warm springs with all of the wrongs becoming rights and all of the lousiness turning into luck and well being. I'm starting to think that the tides have turned, but that this time it's for the worst. It's just in the air... something I can feel. I hope that I'm wrong.. because I know the more I believe it the more that my own lousy self-fulfilling prophecy will kick into effect. So if you see me in a rut... Buy me a beer. Tell me to get over myself. It'll help, I promise.

No one has fooled me yet today.

However, it's worth nothing that today's Penny Arcade comic proved to be quite amusing. I do believe that the PA boys have hit a naztee stride once again, after what I thought were a few months of dissappointing comics. Or maybe it's a strut. Yeah, I think it's more like a strut. **

I just paid $9.33 for a medium chedder broccoli soup and an 11.6 oz. bottle of Ginger Ale. F Manhattan! --

Saturday night I dreamt that I was in Florida on the spring training squad for The Yankees. I was hoping to make the roster and have this season be my rookie year. Joe Torre started me at 2nd base and I immediatly made two errors in one inning. The third time the ball was hit to me Derek Jeter sprinted over and made an amazing catch, clearly trying to ensure that my errors did not continue. In between innings Torre and Mattingly talked to me about calming down and just playing instead of worrying about it. I stepped up to bat as the lead-off and was walked. I instantly stole 2nd base. I'm not sure if I made the team, but I remember thinking that I had finally calmed down and was ready to play for real.

Last night I dreamt that I was walking on some anonymous boardwalk somewhere in Jersey and stumbled upon a bandstand. Jughead from Screeching Weasel's new-ish band Even In Blackouts was playing. I've never heard them before. There were lots of aging punk rockers there looking to have their guitars signed and a huge sign near the merch table that said you had to buy your merch no later than the ending of the fourth song. I left the stage area to head "home", which ended up being a walk on the beach similar to a dream I've had many times.. where I'm am walking slowly home along the beach. This walk home has occured in Jersey, Manhattan (no beaches), and Las Vegas (also no beaches). I'm always by myself, heading home sorta bored/dejected, and seeing lots of other people having fun. I have no idea.

I know that I had a fairly vivid dream on Sunday night, too... but I can't remember the details right now. *

My PSP and I are getting married. Details to follow. --

Tracked down two leaked releases over the weekend...

Alkaline Trio's Crimson and Hot Hot Heat's Elevator. After one listen I've decided that the Alkaline Trio record isn't worth the bandwidth I used up downloading it. I didn't really expect any different, though.. so it's not like I'm dissappointed.

The single from Elevator, "Goodbye, Goodbye" led me to believe that the HHH record would be a lot more of the same sort of stuff that was on Make Up The Breakdown. However, the spastic rhythms and dancy feel has been traded in for more polished tunes that border on classic rock meets funk. It's definitely not as fun, but still very decent. I'm hoping that repeat listens will provide hidden treasure chests filled with staying power.

While I'm on the subject of records released in 2005 I've also spent some time listening to the new M83, Decemberists, and Crooked Fingers, with varying degrees of likeability. In order: M83 (which most definitely unveils treasure chests with said staying power), Decemberists, and Crooked Fingers. **

It looks like my commutes, at least for the short-term future, will be filled with PSP-time, rather than iPod time.. so I expect my musical ramblings will be temporarily replaced with rambling about making colored boxes line up and racing imaginary hover crafts affixed with lasers really fast around a track.

Since I've lost all of the eloquence I'd like to believe I once had whilist writing, take Tycho from Penny Arcade's words about the PSP instead:

If you want to know whether or not the Playstation Portable is good, it's a topic beyond debate. It isn't "good." It's important.

We have a relationship to the future that is odd, in that we are constantly trying to create the preconditions for events we expect to happen. We collaborate with linear time to engineer outcomes. There are, however, coordinates in this progression which serve as milestones of a sort: points we can refer to and declare as evidence of forward momentum. Holding the device made it clear. The "future" envisioned by my eight year old self has arrived. Now, we must invent new futures. **

Rainy monday in NYC. Feels strangely refreshing. April showers bring May flowers and hopefully this week will bring my body sobriety. I've been drinking far too much, far too often lately. --

* hap·pi·ness(n): a state of well-being and contentment
* un·hap·py(adj): not cheerful or glad

I lasted less than 48 hours. My PSP is fully charged and I'm ready to welcome Wipeout Pure and Lumines to my morning commute. --

I didn't buy a PSP today. While I stand by my "adult" and "responsible" decision for not being an early adopter of a new video game system for the first time well, ever... I'm very jealous of everyone else in the world that has one. Lumines just looks too damn good to keep me away for much longer. I give myself until memorial day before I've got one in my clutches.*

Last night I dreamt that Bill Murray killed himself and nobody cared. *

You can watch a video of The Hand That Feeds on NIN.com, if you'd like. I say "a" video and not "the" video, because I'm not 100% sure that this is going to be the final version. It looks like they more or less filmed a live band performing the song in their practice space. While that's not usually up to Trent's standards, perhaps he's come to terms with the fact that there's not much room in the world of music for videos from rock bands? Ya know, no bling-bling or booties shakin'...

I kinda dig the song, though. He changes his vocal melody at the end into something that sounds unintentionally bad... but it's at least left me curious about hearing the rest of the record. *

Since today is shaping up to be a lazy Saturday filled with missing day's past, let's play the "What was Chris doing on (or around) this date years back?" game. From ye blogges of olde:

3.6.00: I somehow managed to sleep for roughly 14.5 hours last night... i don't think i have ever done this before. At around 9:30PM i hopped onto my bed to relax and watch TV. The next thing i remember is waking up in my clothes and looking at my clock and seeing 1:30 AM. I quickly changed into my pajama's, washed my face and hopped into bed. In what seemed like only minutes, my alarm went off for 12:00 noon. I honestly have no idea how i managed to so this...i had a nice, sober sleep the day before, and didn't do a goddamn active thing all day.

3.24.01: Winter seems to be fading, as well as the bitterness that so often embodies that ever-lagging season. My bones are warm and my bedroom is clean. This weekend has been a mixed bag of all things good. My roomate was gone for the weekend so there was privacy, which was incredible. Everything is A-Alright!

3.25.02: All this week I will be blessed with visitors from the fine town of Wayne, New Jersey. My apartment will be their makeshift motel for the week, while I sit at work and well... sit at work. I will live vicariously through their daily adventures as they re-tell them to me in the evenings. They arrived early yesterday, and without much delay, bottles of Bud Light were being emptied left and right in a fairly speedy fashion. When the fridge ran dry, we walked over to Chili's (why aren't any REAL bars open on Sunday's in Georgia?) and proceeded to empty more bottles, shot glasses, and full-sized glasses of a wide array of adult beverages. It was Paul's 21st birthday, after all, which justifies forcing him to drink things with names like "three wise-men", "surfer on acid", and an "el presidente", right?

Before the binge-a-thon began yesterday, I managed to pick up "The Mezzanine" by Nicholson Baker. I've heard it's a sort of "Infinite Jest"-Lite and perfect for the run of the mill obsessive compulsive. Although not quite as much as I when I was younger, I am indeed obsessive-compulsive, and most certainly run of the mill. Flipping through the pages I see footnotes that go on for pages on end... let the insanity begin! I'll let you know how it goes...

2003: Apparently I wasn't updating during March of 2003, although I remember doing so. I was living in Cleveland at the time.

3.22.04: Last night I dreamt that I was record shopping at The Sound Exchange, a record store I grew up frequenting. There were new owners, not the guys that at my tender young age of 13 would correctly insist that I'd be better off picking up records by Pop Will Eat Itself, Pigface, and Fugazi instead of whatever other crap I was probably buying at the time. I went to the register to pick up my copy of the Iron & Wine album and had an altercation with the gentleman ringing me up about the amount I gave him, the cost of the album, and the disparity between them and the amount of change he gave me.. I ended up leaving the store without the album, claiming that I would never listen to music ever again.

Sorry, I just wanted to see if that dream was just as fucking stupid written down as it was in my head. Turns out it was. *

Yesterday I drank my balls off. I'm talking non-stop from like 10:30AM until about 7 at night. I suppose that's par for the course in South Boston on the day of their big St Patty's parade... however, the fact that I was on the clock made it quite interesting. Four of us were DJing a bar on the parade route. The initial gig-time was 12-2, but the owner offered us $250 cash, on top of our (shitty) hourly wage if we stayed until 5. As much as I get annoyed with my part-time job for eating away at my precious and few college weekends... playing rock music for five hours, getting shitey with a bunch of Irish cops for free, and making about $200 ain't a half-bad way to spend a Sunday. *

--
Longest.Post.Ever.

Thirteen things that do not make sense, from The New Scientist via Slashdot. A pretty interesting read that'll make the sci-fi geek in all of us excited about the prospect of people smarter than us figuring out things that we don't really understand.

The fourteenth thing that doesn't make sense is how I'm still living and breathing after this weeks (mis)treatment of my body. I Haven't slept more than 5 hours any night this week and I've been at least a little bit intoxicated upon falling asleep three times. I don't think I'll be ready for another St. Patrick's Day until next year. --

Last night I took part in my first ever fantasy baseball draft. The chaps in my league were all seasoned-pros, which left me a bit uneasy about the whole thing. I went looking for advice from a few sources, but I found a lot of contradictory stuff, so I just decided to go with my gut and a little pre-planning. I don't know how much the pre-planning helped, but my team(for now, at least) is as follows:

Hitters
J. Lopez - (Bal - C)
C. Delgado(Fla - 1B) 
M. Loretta(SD - 2B) 
A. Ramirez(ChC - 3B) 
O. Cabrera(LAA - SS) 
G. Sheffield(NYY - OF) 
C. Jones(Atl - 3B,OF)
M. Alou(SF - OF)
S. Finley(LAA - OF)
T. Hafner(Cle - 1B)
R. Hernandez(SD - C)
A. Jones(Atl - OF) 

Pitchers
J. Santana(Min - SP)
M. Mussina(NYY - SP) 
J. Nathan(Min - RP)
E. Guardado(Sea - RP) 
C. Carpenter(StL - SP)
T. Glavine(NYM - SP) 
C. Cordero(Was - RP) 
F. Garcia(CWS - SP) 

My hitters are probably a perfect sampling of some of the slowest guys in Major League Baseball, so I don't expect to be winning, or even to be able to compete for stolen bases points. Aside from that the team is pretty well-rounded, though.. so hopefully I'll be competitive. If not, I can chalk it up to experience and cry about the $100 I spent in October. **

Been listening to the new M83 and Crooked Fingers a lot. Going to see the amazing Thermals next Tuesday, which I couldn't be more excited about. *

It's St. Patty's, time to get my drink on. Cheers. --

i went to the botanical gardens in the bronx the other day, i have here pictures from that trip...

its times like this i wish i had a better camera. i only post a select few out of all the ones i took.

let me tell you, as you can see by my last post, my state of mind has been with the foliage lately. this little excursion let me get some quality time with my buddies. dont call me crazy when i tell you that these guys spoke to me. hopefully you can see that by the pics, they are truly my pals.

here

I don't know if any of you read the comments, so I thought I would post this link that Joe had left out into the forefront here. It's a video of Ted Leo covering Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone"... complete with a bridge consisting of The Yeah, Yeah, Yeah's "Maps". Fucking weird. He actually almost tricked me into liking the song for a minute or two, though. **

I enjoy it when Paul updates, too. He lulls you into these periods of non-updating.. just to the point where you've almost forgotten that he has the ability to write nonsense here on the blog. And then, just at the cusp of your mind forgetting all about his words, he treats you to line after line of genuine insanity. His methods of delivery are exceptional and for that I am grateful.

This is similar to a discussion I had with a mutual friend of ours last night. We were discussing Paul's punctuality and/or attendance at social events. The short of it is that you never really know for sure if he's going to show up. If he doesn't, it doesn't really bother you at all. It's understood. But if he does, you actually become genuinely happy. Consistency doesn't allow for that kind of thing. And for that, we were both grateful. --

I am incredibly hungover this morning. Time to brew up a pot 'o coffee.

wiping the chalk off his hands.. "well that is the nature of the beast."
"certainly is, and i would assume it wise not to tangle."
"well sir, if i may, great minds have said that in order to realize you should get your hands dirty."
"hahaha"
"hahaaha"
CHUCKLE HAHAHHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHGahahhahahfhahhhhga

weel ok sure whatever why not.

well since there are new sources for just about everything and no sources for just about anyone, you see what happens.

most people wouldnt just stomp up to the desk like that and resign. well you do just resign sometimes, in thought and in theory.

i kno, know. but let me tell you this. there was a little gnome. he was constantly looking for something to idle and wile his time away. most of the time, however, he would pick different botanicals, grass blue green hood, other paraphrenalia. most of all if it was something out of the ordinary round his hut he would take a dirt sample too. when his collection grew impressive and he studied the growth of the various plants and the soil they were growing in, he carefully planned a stew. purely veggies.

the night he consumed his tea/stew, the neighbors heard awful sounds from his hut. crashing thrashing and herbal pot fasting. the next day the gnome emerged no worse for wear but his neighbors were worried. he collected the eggs now, the seeds of the various plants, their births. he studied the dimensions of the seeds, the nature in which they embedded themselves after leaving the proverbial womb.

then, as sure as sugar, he cooked up the seeds, a careful selection. no noises this nite. the fucker died. he was poisoned by some mother fucker that brokeinto his hut and tampered with his seeds. they left his body where it was cause everyone agreed on poisoning the bastard. diane julie beth susan jenifer donna gertrude genevive all those bitches wanted him dead. they just left him there. time passed and all that shit he grew sprouted. no shit, good compost. turned out some even grew from him. but that shits funny. just eating berrys and fruits and leaves and shit and people get all suspicious. so as kites fly these days, people muse and puruse and enjoy the dance of the gods in those light hearted paper doilies. shrugging away. strap a cat to the fucker and it wont fly. but billy the bad blooded cat. that mother fucker flew.

one day a bunch of kids were in the alley, knocking the cobbles like a xylophone. rocking out music with crude instruments and crude haircuts. sky above cobbles below. enter x, the cat. thing is the cat was schizophrenic. it would recline in the branches of a tree and treat it as an entity of animation and soul. the limbs speaking a language all their own which the cat abruptly learned. as the tree aged and the rings in the trunk spelled out the destiny of souls everywhere the cat was the only one privy to the secrets behest.

im just really bored and havent updated in a while. i apologize.

but really folks. im an uncle. my sister had a little girl. very cute indeed. i bought her an ipod mini and loaded it up with some hits. she listens. mostly white hassle, echo and the bunny men and select recorded shamanic rituals in flac format. ive read some carlos castaneda, and i just finished a book, the psychology of kundalini yoga. it really is an awesome book. i enjoyed it alot and tried to make it a part of me. but even at a hundred or so pages it is fucking dense. i dont think ill fully get it all even after 20 reads. but there are certain people i want to read it and no one here is one of them. so why bother. been doing crosswords, took me forever to figure out that what makes later days in the week difficult is not the nature of the words but just the distant way they clue you into them 32 across is lexicon topic. on monday that answer is always words. you get that shit on thursday and its something like usage. just very roundabout.1 down, route revealers.. maps. you get it. already im tired of this. i sub at the highschool on a fairly regular basis and its probably not doing me any good. im not doing me any good. im stuck. chris seems to be a sport tho. i like reading his updates and im glad he does. i appreciate the energy. movies, songs from teh second floor, i saw it. i like it, its subtitled in swedish and all, and even tho its a little over the top, there are some scenes that really rock your socks. notorize it.

Tonight I put on The Promise Ring's Nothing Feels Good. A record I remember thinking was so refreshing and so novel at it's time of release. Tonight, perhaps fittingly, it didn't make me feel good. It made me feel old. Perhaps things that I thought were fun or interesting in 1997 don't quite translate to 2005. *

As I was told tonight in a completely random instant message from a complete stranger...

"for student exchange kyoto university"

I don't know what teh fuck that means. *

Nothing feels good like you in....

Dear M.F.er who stole the $18 out of my wallet at the gym,

I hope you stole that $18 out of my wallet for drugs. And I hope that when you go buy those drugs you get yourself into a sticky situation, have the money stolen from you, and get a nice proper reaming of your arse. And then get arrested, end up in jail, and have many more years of proper arse reamings.

With Love,

Chris

At least they didn't take my credit cards. I guess I put too much faith in the fact that I was going to a fairly expensive gym in a nice neighborhood. Looks like I need to pick up a lock. Aside from the theft thing, running and lifting weights has thus far left me fairly sore but feeling very happy. *

So, after a brief delay the band that we've put together is back on its feet. This lineup has only had one practice, but I think it went quite well. We upgraded from standard 12 oz. Bud bottles to the long neck Bud 16 ozers, which might have helped things along. Perhaps next week we'll give 40's a try? All in the name of bettering ourselves, of course. The current batch of songs I've worked up are in the same vein as bands like Superchunk, Beezewax, The Posies, and Starmarket tinged with a little bit of that pop-punk goodness from bands like Sicko and Cub. So I guess you could file us alongside power-pop bands, but you might be inclined to just throw us in the cluster-f file labeled indie. With any luck we'll be seeing you at shows, or at an AA meeting within two months time. What better time than the beginning of spring to unveil your new band? Exactly. --

Sorry it's been so quiet on los bloggos front. I've been busy trying to learn how to be happy with this being an adult thing. The first thing I'm trying to nix is my after-work computer use. It was pretty depressing when I realized that I'd been spending most of my free time the same way I spend it at work, hunched in front of an LCD screen. So I'm doing my best to ensure that my evenings are spent doing something physical, at band practice, or at least doing enjoyable things with enjoyable people.

Besides, the blog has always been best when I update from work.. and once I get a handle on my newish job I hope to keep this site up as part of my daily routine.*

I was looking through the Wayback Machine Internet Archive and found a very old version of in.circles present. You can find it here. That was the second incarnation of in.circles you see. Spanning my sophomore through middler (Northeastern speak for the third of five years) years. The first version of in.circles consisted of material from Ryan, Imri, and myself, mostly from my freshman year of college. The third version featured Paul and myself with rare updates by both, spanning from the summer of my middler year through the following summer. And the fourth is what you're reading right now. It features mostly me, sometimes Paul, and Jimmy once. It's Spanned from the summer of my junior year until right now. [end pointless tangent] --