I've never figured out whether it's best to respond to blog feedback via the feedback window or a shiny new blog entry. Thus far i've responded strictly through the feedback button, but everytime I do so I've considered the new blog entry thing, which is what I'm doing now. Does anyone even care? Anyway, in response to Luna's feedback... the "not a single friend" comment was reflective of my situation a year ago.. having lived in Cleveland for only two weeks and legitimately not having a single friend, in the sense of a person you could call up and say "hey dude, wanna go the record store, drink a bottle of whisky, and then piss the rest of the day away running around the city?" to. I worked with people. And I lived with people. But neither were friends in any sense of the word, unfortunately.

In context of Boston, however, where I've resided for five years... the path which led me to my lonely state the other night was quite different. I returned from friendless / loveless Cleveland in June and found myself surrounded by a ton of friends and feeling very loved. I might argue that last summer was one of the most fun times of my life. I had enough cash saved up to put off working for a few months, spent time with my friends taking trips and going out, and spent the rest of my time doing the same and more with Marissa. Every day and every night had meaning to me. I embraced every minute to make up for all of the lonely days that I spent in Cleveland. Fast forward to winter. While I still enjoy my friends immensly, I've gotten used to having them around again. I certainly don't take them for granted, but it's become commonplace. Marissa's out of the picture and I've found myself with a much larger amount of free time than I had grown accustomed to. I spent those summer and fall months on the high side of being optimistic and I am now having a really hard time getting used to what I suppose is normalcy. Maybe the lesson is that the optimists will eventually end up hurt. But I still have a hard time believing that living pessimistically and being pleasantly surprised from time to time is the way to go. I can't help but wonder if I'd reached the mountain top and am now forced to head back down, despite desperately wanting to enjoy the view for awhile. Forever, if possible.

I guess nothing is ever certain.. except my incessant rambling. --

Every once in awhile, usually in what I feel like are the tumultuous times in my life.. I go back and look at my old weblogs and journals to remind myself of exactly what was going on in my life in years previous. Usually it's just a straight trip down memory lane and nothing more. But this time it seems to be something more:

1/29/01: " I am pretty sure I am at some sort of turning point in my life or something... one of those times that leaves you forever changed. Yipee. Bring on the epiphany, I'm tired of waiting. Unfortunately (for me) these changes are usually sparked by things happening that I am not too fond of. Be prepared for a little run of un-happy posts."

1/21/02: "After two full weeks here in Atlanta i'm starting to feel a bit lonely. Besides my new roomate i do not have a single friend down here, and although i was craving the solitude prior to me moving down here, i'm starting to wish that from time to time there was at least the option to hangout with people. The grass is always greener, i suppose."

1/28/03: "I don't really know for sure why all of my bitterness comes pouring out when I sit down at this damn keyboard lately. But I do know that it probably doesn't make for interesting reading."
---

Granted, I've been known to embarassingly spill my guts about stupid things on in.circles in my weaker moments. Glancing at the rest of the year's entrys, though, show that my weaker moments usually come in fairly random order. What the fuck is it about the end of January that makes life suck so horribly?

Tonight, while drinking coffee and eating stale lemon-glazed cake at Espresso Royale I realized that here in the city that I've come to call home that I am no more or less alone then I was last year in a new city... without a single friend... sitting at a coffee house and reading by myself.

I also realized that chapter 13 of "For Whom the Bell Tolls" is quite possibly the most amazing piece of romantic literature that I've ever had the pleasure of reading:

"If this was how it was then this was how it was. But there was no law that made him say he liked it. I did not know that I could ever feel what I have felt, he thought." --

I think I want to move to Atlanta. I have a possible lead on a job there and just the thought of it working out fills my heart with happiness. I spent six months living there two years ago and remember it being possibly the best time of my life. I was happy, even though I had very little to be happy with. I had no friends. I didn't know where to go or what to do with my time. So I idled it away. I took drives. I sat on my porch and played guitar or read a book. Every little stupid thing I did with my spare time was an adventure. And it was mostly by myself... and still had meaning. I fell asleep content with myself and my actions every night. Since I've returned from Cleveland about 7 months ago I've spent nearly all of my time trying to create meaning out of something that was completely reliant on someone else. I can't for the life of me figure out how just a year and a half can allow for that kind of 180 degree turn.

I know that changing the scenery doesn't change who you are. No matter what physical location you are in, the person you are remains the same. But I think the bitter coldness of this place has begun to wear me down. The bitter things I've witnessed from people that supposedly cared about me has taken this once thick skin and sanded it down to just tendons and exposed muscle. While I know that no physical location is devoid of cruelty... whether it be Boston, suburban Jersey, Cleveland, Atlanta, or any other place I might find myself on this little journey of mine... I can't help but feeling that something is terribly amiss in this part of the world i'm currently in and that resting my head in an apartment on a side street in between Huntingon and Columbus Ave's in Boston is just not a right fit for me anymore. --

After tooling around with it for a little bit, and some last minute additions... here is a list of my favorite songs of the year that proceeded 2004 (in the order I first heard them throughout the year):

crooked fingers - you can never leave
the notwist - this room (the us release was in 2003, so I guess this one's in on a technicality)
microphones - solar system
exploding hearts - sleeping aides and razor blades
cursive - a gentleman caller
the rapture - olio
earlimart - we drink on the job
death cab for cutie - the sound of settling
the shins - kissing the lipless
decembrists - the bachelor and the bride
constantines - young lions
cex - the strong suit
m83 - be wild
the unicorns - ghost mountain
sufjan stevens - for the widows in paradise; for the fatherless in ypsilanti
broken social scene - kc accidental
dizzee rascal - i luv u*

I'm trying to put these tracks together on a CD comp to hand out to friends, etc... but deciding how to setup the track listing is insanely difficult. Suggestions?*

I want to play music again. In front of people. *

Food.

For the most part, that is what the best parts of my fairly relaxing weekend consisted of. The usually disappointing Vinny Testa's and never-disappointing late night Tiger Lily on Friday. Eggs benedict, chocolate french toast with almonds, and two hour cups of coffee with Marissa on Saturday and Sunday mornings, respectively at The Clairmont Cafe' and Brassiere Jo. Most of my other meals consisted of leftovers from the previously mentioned, aside from my Sunday night fast food indulgence of the Taco Bell variety.

Now that I think about it. The best parts of my weekend had nothing to do with the food at all.

It was a good weekend, all said. I feel rested. And relaxed. And happy. And poised to take on what's thrown at me... good, bad, or indifferent. *

I've been so distracted and so frustrated with my channels of hearing new music lately that I resorted to taking shortcuts. My method? Plugging through Pitchfork's top 50 list and exploring the things I've never had a chance to hear otherwise. Sufjan Stevens? Broken Social Scene? M83? Yes, yes, and hellz yes. While I idled away my time in between pricey meals perfecting the art of Mario Kart Double Dash blue motherfucking sparks I was incessantly listening to these three records and kicking myself for not having heard them sooner. Is it lame that I had to refer to the likes of Pitchfork to satisfy my need for the latest and greatest new music? Maybe, but at this point I just don't care.*

Apparently my last semester of classes have started and very obviously I don't care. It's the second week already and I haven't even bought a notebook yet, nevermind the actual textbooks for the classes. The fact that I'm in my fifth year of college is absurd. The fact that it was my choice to choose a five year program is even more absurd. My mind is on everything in the world but school right now. And I'm ok with that. I've spent way too many years caring too much about my scholastic performance. I need a break. --

Just when things were relatively easy here at work, I had to go and make them more difficult. I've remained fairly busy and never too insanely stressed just filling out website addition / subtraction requests for the past 5 months or so. "Chris, can you take down page X?" "Chris, that image on page Y is a bit fuzzy, can you regenerate it and add the attached copy?" Simple. Easy. No problems or worries. Fulfilling these requests in a pseudo-timely manner insured that people were never too upset at the response time and that I consistently appeared to be busy enough to not have to take on additional work.

That's when my stupid big fat mouth had to open up and request to "take on additional responsibility and expand on the scope of my job." So now I'm looking down at the two-page list of things I need to complete before the beginning of our biggest trade show in April and want to punch myself in the face. But hey, I guess at least I know I'll have a job until April... and the rent will get paid... and the bling-bling will get blingier. With things looking the way they are, I guess job security's not the worst thing in the world to have on your side.

In sharp contrast to the above I spent my entire Tuesday sitting on my ass. Or laying with my ass kinda turned to the side in a fetal-ish position. Either way, I made like Garfield, watching an insane amount of television, eating takeout and delivery food for two of my three meals, and thinking about not much more than whether I felt like listening to M83 or The Frames. Marissa joined in on the laziness, which was certainly welcome. Lounging around is a whole lot more fun when you've got someone equally as enamored with the idea as you are. Enamored, I've always liked that word.

If you live in the Northeast I hope you're keeping warm... as hard as that might seem. Suggestions: Grab coffee with someone who is coffee-companion material. Pick up yourself a book and get the coffee anyway if you can't find that companion. Wear scarves and make sure you know the best way from point A to point B, allowing for as little 'outside time' as possible. And last but not least, don't waste your time reading the ramblings of a caffeine-driven almost 23 year old fool. Cheers! --

"Toot-toot!" That's the sound of my own horn being.. umm... tooted by myself. Tooting your own horn is a sure-fire way to find something to regret later I suppose, but regardless, I'd like my tooting to be noted throughout this vast virtual world that I am becoming re-acquainted with now that I am back on the 9-5. Why all of this tooting, you ask? Just little things. Little things like how incredible my new computer speakers sound while playing 'Mississauga Theme' by Girls Are Short or 'The Strong Suit' by Cex, or the fact that coming back to a dirty, gray, loud city can bring a wider smile to my face than the quiet and clean suburbs, the way two beers at the local bar on what would've been an otherwise boring evening can lead to a happily sleepless night, the fact that my boss handed me the belated Christmas gift of a mix CD filled with the likes of The Constantines, Bob Dylan, and The Rapture. Not even the freezing rain pounding down on my bare face could take the spring out of my step this morning. Why not? Maybe just being happy to be alive is enough sometimes. --

2003, the year consisting of the tail end my 21st and first half of my 22nd years on this planet is officially over, and I'd say that it ended fittingly: four Bud Lights (one on the PATH), one glass of Pinot Grigio, one shot of of Southern Comfort and Lime, three Sierra Nevadas, one Red Bull and Vodka, five gin and tonics, one rum and Coke, and two Sapporos. 18 drinks in the course of one, extremely dizzying Manhattan evening. In addition to it being the end of the year, it also marked the end of my three week bender in which I intoxicated myself just about every single evening. No real reason in particular, just a lot of free time on my hands and possibly a need to make up for all of those weekend evenings I spent working this past fall. At any rate, the bender's over and the year is over. 2004 will find me graduating, moving to God knows where, taking a job somewhere, purchasing an automobile, and essentially starting the next phase of my life. Nothing else is certain, but I'm hoping that the new year brings a slightly less tumultuous time for me. I could do without the car wrecks, burning apartments, knife-point stick ups and ... well, living in Cleveland. So 2004, what the fuck you got? My stomach, liver, and heart might be a bit battered at present... but I promise that they will soon heal, and then, biatch, you're going fuckin' down!

Well now, where were we? The truth is I don't fucking know. Since I've last written i've mostly been in a semi-drunken haze filled with Christmas trees, the north jersey version of an irish pub, Mario Kart, Zelda, bowling alleys, driving with open containers, and Hoboken. In the past two days I've been asked to play football and ultimate frisbee and both times have had to declilne. My body is pretty banged up. I went from hardly eating and never sleeping during the tail end of my fall semester to fiendishly wolfing down food and sleeping until all hours of the day here in good ole Wayne. I recommend neither, my friends - as the body, head, and heart are certainly not helped by either over or under indulgence relative to normalcy.

Normalcy, however, is my new plan for the remaining days of my vacation. I have a blank calendar in front of me from now until the 4th, when I return to Boston, and plan on using it in the best way I can think of given my carless circumstances... sleeping at normal times, equal parts relaxing and getting back into shape, and enjoying the bulk of my time with the individuals I know are worth spending these few and far between "home hours" with.

I sure hope that everyone has had a relatively painless holiday season thus far and that all is well with anyone and everyone who matters to you. If for nothing else, the holidays at least force people to consider those in their lives... whether out of forced, phony circumstances of the "they always buy me a gift so..." sort or genuine caring. I hope that either way, your evaluations of those in your life have left you feeling good about yourself. Cheers, I trust I'll be writing more before the New Year, so I'll save that 'see ya next year' bullshit until then. --

Was going to write about Return of the King.. but there's really no point. Unless you're a fucking idiot you will go see this movie... ten times.

Here's some snippets from a conversation between Paul and I for your amusement... slightly edited to keep us from being arrested / committed, of course:

Paul: you see that shit penny arcade is doing?
Chris: toy drive? i wanted to donate
Paul: http://www.shacknews.com/ja.zz?id=9004888, check out the second reply
Chris: Sad way to look at life?
Paul: hahahahahHAHAHA, i made the original post
Chris: dinglebean gave it away
Paul: i thought you knew i posted it, im just happy someone sad i have a sad outlook on life
Paul: whats up in your department, get hammered last nite?
Chris: no, for a change. saw return of the king
Paul: ass hurt?
Chris: yeah man. so fucking long. plus the theater didn't adjust their temperatures for the humidity. it was like 50 degrees outside here yesterday and they had the heat going full blast in the theater.. 45 minutes in it was like 90 degrees and didn't stop... the whole theater was shedding clothes and it stunk like a locker room
Paul: ew. but entertaining maybe a bit
Chris: plus, like 90% fat dudes in the theater
Chris: but it was awesome. i liked it a lot. although there's is one incredibly, incredibly homo-erotic scene
Paul: the end when frodo is caressing sams head?
Chris: all of the hobbits are bouncing around on a bed... and one by one in slo-mo all of the guys from the original felowship walk in the room with smiles on their faces and just stare and watch all googly eyed
Paul: hahahah. aragon is hot
Chris: all the bitches love legolas

Chris: nobody will listen to me and seek out Cex
Chris: tracks 1,5, and 6 off of being ridden dammit!
Paul: i cant get it, why cant i see your files on soulseek?
Chris: i don't know. i said i'd look yesterday and forgot, you can get one of those songs at www.rjyan.com
Chris: go to discography... i think it's 6, Cex At Arms Length.. which is definitely not the best of those three... but still good upon repeat listens. but better accompanied by the other, more upbeat songs.
Paul: dude puking in a toilet? or cutting his wrists?
Chris: haha... the one with his arm up in the air.. which is identical to a cover of an old david bowie album. but not the one with the tape over his mouth.. that's the instrumental version
Chris: he just put out a new album called Maryland Mansions but i haven't listened to it yet.
Paul: i like this
Chris: dude, it's bad ass. Bright Eyes + Eminem + Nine Inch Nails
Paul: calm insanity

Paul: u listen to any leo kottke? i asked you this before
Chris: don't think so. never listened
Paul: song 3 on regards from chuck pink
Chris: good?
Paul: id say yes
Paul: others would cast me out
Chris: you have at home?
Paul: yea

Chris: i think the new Cex has a little Paper Chase thrown into the mix.... i hear he's going crazy
Chris: he's 21/22 years old. sounds about right.
Paul: haha, excellent, i like that arms length song
Paul: reminds me of something... mc 900 ft jesus
Chris: yeah, his voice... he raps a little better on the other tunes
Chris: while we're at it
Chris: Constantines - Shine A Light - Song 5, Young Lions
Paul: word, will check out.. take it easy, gotta paper this out
---

Many people I started school with here in Boston are graduating today. Part of me wishes I was leaving with them. Another part of me hopes that these next 4 or 5 months will be the best yet. Who knows. You're dealt a hand and the best you can do is fucking play it. --

I spent last night living in a bit of a time warp. My friend, Mike, with whom I traveled across the country two summer's ago during his move to San Diego was back in town for a few days and needed a place to stay. We grabbed some dinner and a pitcher of Pabst at the Other Side Cafe' on Newbury, the local hipster eatery. While I half-drunkenly snacked on my prosciutto sandwich and pasta fagiole I listened to Mike talk about his life in San Diego. He was talking about things like leaving for tour just after the new year, being vegan, and peta protests while I just kinda sat there googly eyed without really being able to muster up any sort of response. Understand that I mean no disrespect... but I couldn't help but think about how far passed all of those kind of things that I was. Maybe it's that I was never really "in" it at all. Maybe I was just a passive observer, dipping my toe in the pool and realizing that it was either way too hot or cold to actually swim in. Instead I opted to sit shirtless the whole time in a lawn chair next to the water, letting the sun bronze my skin... reaping the benefits of the situation but not actually engrossing myself in it. And now that the sun's gone for the day I'm inside getting ready to flaunt my new tan and head out to tackle bigger and better things while the rest of the suckers are bitching about being tired or cramps. Still with me? Good, because if you've made it this far I'll reward you by ending this terrible metaphor before it exposes any more holes in my ability to write than it already has.

Mike, however, is a very dear friend and I appreciated being able to spend time with him. To be honest I never thought I'd ever see him again. One pitcher and one six pack of Honey Browns later I passed out on my couch, just 5 minutes into Run Ronnie Run, happy that I was able to experience this introspective night. It couldn't have come at a better time. I certainly wish Mike the best of luck with his future plans. His band, Tamora, does in fact kick you square in the balls with some fairly heavy hardcore and their debut EP will be out soon on Happy Couples Never Last, I suggest checking it out when it does. For the record, openly admitting that I've forever traded in my hipster clothes for that really nice new shit from Banana Republic doesn't still mean that the music I listen to isn't ten times cooler than yours, bitches.

I had a late night phone call around 3AM that I still can't decipher the meaning of. While I'm sure that the phone call itself was real, its dreamlike qualities of being cryptical and curious but probably meaningless have been haunting me since I hung up the phone about 17 minutes after I answered. --

I'm trying to not feel a general dissatisfaction with everything right now, but it's not easy. I've found myself able to get caught up in a couple of things these past few days... things that are able to distract me for a few minutes here and there, but for the most part I'm walking around in a dense fog, completely oblivious to any opportunities that might exist to shake me out of this mindset.

Some of my minor distractions:

Office Xmas party on Saturday night: About three hours after arriving to the party I looked up and realized that there were six of us standing on one side of the room by ourselves, right next to the bar, with a half-empty handle of Russian Vodka at arms length. The six of us that were anchored to this position for God knows how long were all current or former students of Northeastern University. The MIT and Harvard grads were standing around the grand piano watching the owner of the company's son bounce back and forth between Christmas carols and classical compositions. A few of them had poured some wine and were a bit red in the face, but it was nothing compared to the beet red in our glorified screwdriver drunk eyes. Go NU, eh? After the party ended, a few of us headed downtown to An Tain where a fellow employee was hosting a children's toy drive. Drinks are cheap at An Tain and the only price of admission to get into the bar was a children's toy. Julie and I tried to pick something up at a CVS before heading into the bar.. but it was closed. Luckily my friend running the event let us in without the toy, as long as I promised to bring him one on Monday...

FAO Schwartz: ... which brings me to my next distraction. Toy shopping for a gift at FAO Schwartz the following day. It sure sounded like a great idea at the time.. but once the snow came it kinda soured everything and ruined what could've been a good time. John, Jules, and I made the best of it by eating about $50 worth of Jelly Belly's and then settling on a Lego toy for the charity. The fact that we drove over there, parked on a snowbank, and rushed home to beat the remainder snow instead of taking a bundled up winter walk with hot chocolate kinda killed the whole idea.

Terminator 3: Awful. Embarassing. I just deleted a 200 word rant on why I didn't like this movie...

And do you know why I deleted it? Because I realized the whole thing was just an excuse to write circles around the fact that I really have found nothing to distract myself from being upset. Because every time I try to trail off down a new idea path my eyes shoot over to the unopened pile of packages sitting on my desk. The boxes that contain items that were purchased with a recipient in mind and now have no owner other than the brown cardboard and bubble-wrap surrounding them.

Apologies for delving into the meta-fiction today... I didn't set out to write in the way I did but that's just sorta how it played out.

fuckya

im at school and i have a lingering effect of zero self worth to make myself feel like a better person. i cant for the life of me figure out how i have two entries back to back. so what to chat about while i whittle away the ginger tea.

first, trizzle
trazzle
bizzle
wazzle
woooooooooo

what a fucking game. its by the people who made giants, planet moon, really rowdy roozin doozles. i sent an email to the people that made the game and actually got a response back from someone on the development team. of course those screencaps do it no justice, because in motion its like a river of honey milk and butter. smooth like a shitbag.

but videogames. its what i do when i have homework. im actually physically hurt from playing that one. if your in a chair, dont sit there for 8 hrs. if you have a data entry cube job, id say youd want a lack of job security. the glow of the monitor is starting to show in your attitude, ie you have none and noone likes you.

haha, but we joke sometimes dont we. its like a river of honeydew sauce. jimmy watches this show angels in america, but whatever. its this guy niraj who transcends time and sticks with ya like honeysauce. once a whole goozle of goobles was froozlen in the boozle dooze (name rhymes with madison fur, her basement) , and we were boozin and snoodin on the bood. well i took a book of india and threw it on the ground cause in my head i thought provoking people was silly and fun and niraj is an easy target cause he looks funny. yeah, that just sat with me, not like he has any attachment to india or anything just cause its stupid. not saying it bothers me that much, just saying sometimes carrying things on you tend to forget about universal human respect. where the fuck is this goin.

so cheese and santas and santas cheese wheel, spin and turn and yearn for burns, am i rite. i garuntee you there is more enjoyment than youre willing to admit in those times you just dont feel like carrying on, dont be shrewd. are you sick of yourself.

so what are you folks reading, anything to recommend? ive been trotting along with don quixote and sancho panza in that book about them that is big. its fun and funny. interesting too. but how much is too much. just really tired and typing as it flies in waving as it leaves. yeee

id like to say that i forgot my password and thats why i havent updated in a while, but i forgot my password when trying to make this post. i see no promise in you anymore, kid, thats why i neglect you. ya see, when a child is growing neglect is the greatest form of love. its like the man behind the curtain, i aint lookin.

i took out letting off the happiness to listen too, and after my cd player barfed it back a couple times i realized i do like song three.. very mature all considered. plus its got the fem vox.

if you asked me to describe my room id say it has unread newspapers everywhere.. i blame school for making the papers free. usually every day i have school i take a nytimes and a record, good stuff. but since my cat is incontinent and my dog eats catfood then shits it on the rugs, i line that unused paper over everything and bathe in the odor..

speaking of which i was in cape may for the thanksshitbag and there is a store called good sense. i procured some incense that is described on the box as "a transporting aromatic experience" - shit made my eyes water. incense is pretty valuable but invaluable at the same time. id see it as one of the best values for the money, specially when it makes your eyes burn.

saw 21 grams in the theaters and i highly recommend it. asking for natural born killers for xmas. gonna put eyes wide shut donnie darko and natty born killers right on the teevee. tonite, this nite in time, the toronto maple leafs have beaten the boneheaded boston bruins 6-0. blanked em the fuck out. i hate the boston team, but hate only cause they were playing toronto. in terms of real hatred, i hate the flyers the most. bruins fall into place somewhere way behind.

school is rapping up and so is my life. nothing to joke about but i heard the expression 51/50 tonite and i was awed by it. expiration date running sour and whatnot. warranty is up.. for a game, how many allusions to death can you make using real world mechanix. deedle.

imri tells me soulseek is belching fire lately. thats pretty sad. sad like music journalism. sad like chris's written but never published updates. but really, its so easy to take a shot at leno, truth is, the mans out there, every nite, with fresh material. im out

Happy turkey day. I'm so fucking hungover right now that I'm pretty sure the sight of thanksgiving dinner might make me puke all over grandma.

If I did something silly like tell you that I was leaving to go to the diner... let you wait in the parking lot... and then just forgot to come out and meet you I truly apologize. Please understand that the combination of Soco and lime, countless Bud Lights, and the Coors Light 40 oz. that I drank and seeing people that I otherwise would've thought dead was just a bit too much for my little head to handle. I'm pretty sure that I remember falsely telling Kelly Henry that that she was one of the coolest people that I'd ever met and sending shots over to a girl with braces just because I thought it'd be funny to send shots over to a girl with braces... ? *

Jersey has its faults, that's for damn sure... but from where I'm sitting, facing the "where am I going to start my life?" decision... I don't think there'd be any other place I'd rather do it. While that might not happen, I enjoy knowing that if it did I'd be among good people. --

I know for sure that when the second hand on my clock reaches the number nine it begins ticking and continues doing so until it comes around to the number three. I'm not quite sure why my clock only ticks while the second hand is passing through the top-half of my clock... but I never noticed it before this weekend.

I know for sure that the glowing stars that the previous occupant of my bedroom stuck to the ceiling above my bed can be blindingly bright at 4AM. Bright enough to grab ahold of your attention while they laugh at you for wishing to be anything but conscious. Before this weekend, they've never kept me up or laughed at me before.

I know for sure that the busses stop rolling through the Mass Ave station at around 2:45AM and that they start up again at 6AM, and while I might have known that previously, I never noticed this from my bedroom before this weekend.

I know for sure that once I took away the pictures I couldn't stand to keep on my walls that there is an overwhelming amount of white in my bedroom. And as the moonlight dances through the tree branches waving in the wind ghastly images can haunt me on those white walls all night. I was never haunted by anything in my bedroom before.

What I don't know is how two people can be walking down the street and spot a newlywed couple with an infant, prompting one of you to grab ahold of the other's arm so tight and stare lovingly into the other's eyes... and only two days later that same person that grabbed the other's arm be able rationalize that the two cannot be together at this juncture in their lives.

What I don't know is how someone can go from spending months praising the fact that you were older and more mature than other people they've dated, and then turn that very same thing into being a reason that they can't be with you.

What I don't know is how I let my guard down enough to let myself feel this way. To let someone else's decisions render me feeling helpless. I've spent my whole life laughing at the helpless and now I can't stand the site of myself for having joined their ranks.

I feel like I know so much about the unimportant things and don't know a goddamn thing about what's important. I feel like so much of what I've believed in was a dream, and now that I've woken up I'm facing the most painful of realities. I know what my mistakes are. I'd wear them on my sleeve for all to see if I thought it'd help. But to feel like there's no such thing as forgiveness or a chance to change in life has left me feeling more dissapointed than I've ever thought possible. --

I'm a computer.

Verizon has inexplicably decided to cancel my DSL service at home. Well, that's what technical support said... although they didn't know why. The sales department said that my account information is just fine.. and that we should be receiving normal service. A meeting of the minds' of the sales and technical support departments also could not come to a conclusion, so they both decided to transfer me to the retention department... who couldn't for the life of them figure out what the fuck these two idiots were talking about. Before the conference call got any larger... we decided that the only way to get back online is to cancel my service, which takes three days. And then sing up for service again.. which takes 7-10 business days. With Thanksgiving next week I'll be lucky if I'm online by fucking Christmas.

At least they're refunding every dime I've paid them since September and are giving me a free month free once our service kicks back in.

S'all good, though. I fucking hate instant messenger anyway.. and if it weren't one of the only way to communicate with folks back in Jersey I probably would've trashed it awhile ago. I guess the only drawback is not being able read the Tard Blog and GI Joe skits over at boredatwork.com that everyone's been talking about. Oh well. --

Ahhh... clean undies.

I own 32 pairs of underwear. That means that I can go 32 days without doing laundry, unless I take part in any physical activities that require an undies change. Soccer season is over, however, and I've reverted back to being a lazy sonuvabitch that sits in front of a screen doing his best to earn miniscule paychecks, so I'm pretty much working on the one pair per day method. As I've mentioned more times than anyone gives a damn about on this website, I'm busy. Sometimes too busy to do laundry. In the past, my extensive underwear selection has insured that I'd be able to continue wearing the best of my best boxer shorts without running out and taking to the reserves. The reserves, my friends, are the old pairs of boxers that should've been retired years ago. Some have holes in completely ridiculous places while others offer absolutely nothing in the form of waist elasticity, which means that unless they're pulled over my pants and clamped with a belt, they will fall down way farther than is comfortable. While never preferred, at least the reserves offer me the security that I need to get my ass to the laundra-mat. Apparently I've become too busy to do even that, however, because ther reserves are completely gone. That includes the waist-band-less pair that I bought in 8th grade as well as the infamous "Marc Noll's Bar Mitzvah" pair that don't quite keep the boys under control, if you know what I mean.

That's it. I'm out. Done. And you know what? I have no time to get the laundra-mat this afternoon, either. So folks, if you see me walking down the street today and decide to talk to me... do it knowing that you're talking to a kid who is most definitely wearing yesterday' underwear.

My mom would not be proud. --