3 weeks until I move back to Butler!!!

I am beyond excited that 3 weeks from today I am back at my happy home of BU! That's all. haha

summer demons.

well hey guys. it's been a while, don't you think? i am so excited to come back to school and see all of your lovely faces. Exactly 4 weeks (28 days sounds better though) until...

1. i can move into resco
2. i turn 20 years old and my teenage years are over and i'm forever depressed.
3. i am reunited with the friends that i care about most.

i just have this really good feeling about next year. that everything will be okay. i mean yeah, it's no Unit 3 repeat in which we are all always in the same hallway at the same time. But we are going to have some fun times. Lots of great weekends filled with great stories. Plenty of photo adventures. Tons of time being lazy, all on our computers in the same room, enjoying each others silence. Lots of music listening. Plenty of multiple hour long meals in atherton. It'll be great. I CAN FEEEEEL IT.

you guys are the greatest. please let these next four weeks flyyyyy by.

"Nice green hair!"

I'm ashamed. I have not posted but once and that was only a song. But it seems that Summer is simply boring and uninteresting. Trust me, I have several times attempted to make a post of substance for ya'll, but it seems that one of two things always happens:

1) I end up bitching about mowing lawns and how I have to wash my hair twice every night, or at least until the soap coming out is not green.

2) I end up rambling into the fact that I got a new guitar and a banjo.

And as it seems, this attempt at a blog post has turned into the same dribble. But I justify it by using a numbered list.

Here's a song.

Knock-off Walgreen's Nicorettes Suck

marry me.

so this past weekend, i traveled to indy with zachary to attend his sisters wedding. there i was graciously greeted by one of the nicest families that i have ever met. and then i was reunited with my bryce. i also got to see matt bystry, jarron, and even josh! the wedding was so beautiful. marriage and love is such a beautiful thing to have, and it really made me wonder about my special day. like, when will it be? who am i going to marry? who will come to celebrate my special day with me? i just know for a fact, i want all of you to be there to share the special time with me. because i love you all. it made me realize how fortunate i am to have such wonderful friends! having you guys around all the time is such a nice feeling that i really took for granted at school. i can't wait to be back so all of us can be together!

only 43 days until we move in! AH.

THIS WEEKEND WILL BE EPIC!!!

Hey blog buddies!!!

So in 2 days I will reunite with my two best friends:

Maggie!!!




and Zach!!!

This is like the greatest thing since gays were discovered!! I'm super pumped!! I got my camera ready AND my newly purchased Flip camera ready to snap and record all of our adventures this weekend!!

Ahhh!!! I hope all of you are jealous and writhing in pain bahahahaha jkjkjk.

Love you all my bitches ;)
Queen B

Happy Birthday America from your favorite drag queen LaTonya!!!

living something

In the lull of summer, I often catch myself wondering if I'm living enough of my life. I wonder if I will ever find the events that fill these days story-worthy someday. But then I remember that it's easier not to give a shit and live the way I want to. So here's what I've been up to.

I shared two houses with 18 other musicians, a dog, and a lack of air conditioning for two weeks in upstate New York. We played music all day. No, man, ALL day. No breaks. We watched documentaries about peace activists and Stravinsky. One night, a group of us sat on some old train tracks that faced the lake and contemplated the stars. The fireflies are different there.

"They remind me of camera flashes in a giant stadium."

"Makes you feel kind of special."

Somehow, I managed to get some cello students for the summer. This one girl, Katherine, blows my mind every time I see her. She's only going into 5th grade, but she plays, speaks and thinks years beyond her age. I'll stop and ask what's on her mind, and she once answered, "Well, what we're working on is a lot more challenging than what I've worked on before, but I feel like it's really good. It's what I needed." Kids are awesome.

Now, I'm sleeping in my friend's aunt's living room for an orchestra gig in Indy. Three rehearsals spread over six days means lots of chill time with fellow musicians, which means playing a Nepali singing bowl for hours, cruising to The Flaming Lips, and falling asleep mid-afternoon to banjo playing....Sounds like a story to me.

Hiya

Yeah, well...I feel like I was one of the most enthusiastic about this here blawg throughout its long-winded and tumultuous snap-decision-making conception, but now I don't post on here as often as I thought I would. Then again, my infrequent posts on here are at least a little more topical and thought-out than those on the other blog, Classic Brian (dot blogspot dot com ALLONEWORD). I guess my summer's been a little hectic between work and friends (sorry, Maggie, I am often that bad friend you mentioned who resorts to making up excuses for not hanging out with certain friends because I'm too embarrassed / boring to admit I'm with someone else). Hell, I only see my parents for about forty-five minutes a day anymore.

Over the last couple of days, I just kept thinking about all you guys and coming back to school at the end of August. I want to make money working here, I want to enjoy all my free time, I want to run in Washington Park, I want to eat my mom's cooking, I want to sit around on the couch and watch The Sopranos before bed...but I neeeed a buffalo chicken wrap from Atherton. And to hang out in someone's room with you guys, even if each of us silently scans Facebook or Tumblr or something.

And now for something completely different.

I received some very interesting news through the grapevine this week. I don't think I should disclose the details right now, but let's just say the Delts' are going to have one less nose fixated in their collective ass.

I don't really know what else I want to say. Oh yeah, I might see Daisy at a house show / party in St. Louis in a couple weeks, so that's awesome. I wish everyone else could be there.

Enough sappiness. I'll see if I can contribute something a little more thought-provoking this week.

B. CAV OUT

Chicago Gay Pride!!!

Hello blog buddies!! So I agree with Maggie...does anyone else read this damn blog? I mean I know Maggie, Brendan and I do but does anyone else? I think it's funny I didn't even know about the blog yet I'm one of the main contributors now...so get with it everyone else! haha.

SO...this past weekend was Gay Pride for numerous cities and can I say it was the best weekend for me in a long time! Kate, Jarron, and Leah all stayed at my house this weekend and we tore it up. haha. We bought so much alcohol and spent the night making crazy outfits and plans. We woke up Sunday morning and got hammered on the train to Chicago, packed 7 people into a tiny cab and let loose on Lakeview in Chicago. Haha

I made cop friends, drag friends, 3 lesbians made out with me, straddled a barricade next to a cop, grinded on a cop to Beyonce, got a TON of beads, a free shirt, my ass was grabbed a billion times, got told I have a nice package by like half the parade, Jarron was wondering around wasted, Leah bonged beer on one of those octupus bongs haha, I believe Jarron played flippy cup in broad daylight by cops, I was flashed, Kate got molested by like 20 lesbians and made out with half of them and all of this happened in a matter of 3 hours at the parade. haha I wish all of you were there to experience it and it's awesomeness.
All in all it was yet again another amazing Gay Pride. Hope you're all having a great summer. Keep posting please!!
Your Queen

semi-charmed kind of life. (baby, baby)

so, i figured since both bryce and brendan filled us in on their lives, i might as well do the same. although, i'm not really sure who even reads this blog anymore, so it may be pointless. but, most things in my life are pointless right now, so it blends in just fine.

i wish i had a lot to write, like about a bunch of great adventures that i am going on and hanging out with great friends all the time, but in reality, things aren't that great. here are just a few reasons why my life is in shambles right now:

• on monday i had to wake up at 7am to go to court in downtown Dayton. Let me tell you. This was terrifying. I was surrounded by a ton of pretty scary people. Like. People who have committed actual crimes. (stealing cars, hit and runs, DUI's, driving without licenses..) i was just like "i was in a car accident, i just want to get out of here." that's probably been the highlight of my week so far.
• my dad has been pretty sick lately, and he finally went to the doctors and got a colonoscopy and had a ton of blood work done. turns out he has Ulceritive Collitis. And the doctor was on the verge of hospitalizing him, that's how bad it was. It's really scary. When someone you love is basically falling apart before your eyes and there is nothing you can really do about it. my house feels kind of like a hospital. lots of new foods in the fridge, it's always pretty quiet, my dad is always in bed, and he is easily upset by things, which has a lot to do with all the drugs that he is on.
• since the accident, i have no car. which means there is no point in even job searching anymore, because if by some magical chance i was to actually get a job, i wouldn't even be able to transport myself to and from work. no car = no freedom (when you think about it) let's just say, i've gone on more bike rides than my body wants to. but i guess it's not all that bad, it could be worse.
• all of my friends suck. i swear. nobody wants to hang out with me. everyone is either a.) working, b.) summer school or, c.) on vacation. or they make up some lame excuse about something that they have to do instead. and from this, i've realized this summer what my favorite part of college is. it's all of you guys. it's so much easier to hang out with you guys whenever i want. but at home, i have to make such an effort to even see anyone. that's just not right.
• i haven't talked to matthew in about a week. i know, lame mushy boyfriend/girlfriend stuff, okay. but i really do miss him. lots. and it's hard not having him around to talk to about all these things that are really just crushing me.
• oh and today while sitting outside with my mother, and thinking about all of these things at the same time, a tree fell on my house.

everything isn't totally bad though! i promise. do not pity me for my sad lifestyle. some things are going really well actually!

• i learned to mow the lawn!
• i'm getting paid for yard work and house cleaning!
• i am doing so much art i could vomit!
• i'm staying in shape with ballet and bike rides!
• i hang out with some friends sometimes!
• i went to a record store the other day and bought 3 albums!
• my hair is growing out long!
• i get to see zach and bryce next week!

i guess what my motto for life is these days is

"as bad as things are, they could always be worse"

WHY DOES NO ONE POST ON THE BLOG ANYMORE!!!

Sadness...

NEW YORK LEGALIZES GAY MARRIAGE!!!

I just wanted to take this opportunity to let you all know the gravity of this historical moment. Tears are flowing from my eyes with joy as I sit on this couch and think of all the gays and lesbians that have fought for this right.

I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being my loving friends, and accepting me for who I am inside and out. And loving Bryce for Bryce, not because I'm gay...that's just a bonus.

I love you all and thank you for your support and love of not only me, because if you love and support me...you love and support my whole community. You are all family to me.

Much love,
Your Queen

A Day in the Life of a Queen....well isn't so fabulous.

My froomie's recent blog gave me quite the inspiration to blog about my daily shenanigans and summer ongoings. First of I apologize for my lack of participation on the blog, I can't say that I've been busy just honestly lazy. Oh well let's get into it shall we...

My summer isn't very busy or eventful this year, sadly. I recently came back from a family vacation to New Orleans (my ancestoral home away from Africa). I HAD A BLAST!!! I tried so many foods (fried alligator is delish!), had a blast on Bourbon Street with my gay uncles, and spent uber late nights with my hip, and San Franciscian (I made that up) cousin. It was a great 5 days of thinking, partying, and family.

My daily routine is as follows:

8am - wake up, Kashi and oatmeal breakfast with a side of OJ
9am - 3 mile run, Zumba, Pilates, Yoga followed by a hot and steamy shower (can't wait Brendan)
12 or 1pm - Beach and or Internet for the next 3 hours with a poor pathetic lunch of grilled cheese or pizza.
3pm - continue my pointless job search (hate unemployment)
7pm - try and find my "too busy for Bryce" friends for some crazy hetero harassment shenanigans around my town with a side of Just Dance 2 at my house.
1am - bedtime

My summer is quite pathetic and not that of a Queen. Last summer was full of beach, work, friends, parties, and lots of money. My friends here have become so annoying and nonexistent, there's no jobs here resulting in my broke ass syndrome, and parties...yeah there is none. I MISS BUTLER!!! I miss the people, my friends, the drama, Atherton, drinking, and the occasional Arts & Crafts.

The only productive thing I've done is keep my health up. Although I've gone through a lot of self evaluating, thinking and changing in my life. I've regained some old friends back despite disapproval of my boyfriend and current friends, but I don't care because at the end of the day it's my life and I choose who I want in it. I've also had a rocky road with my current guy...idk if it's the distance thing or the fact that we're so different in my eyes. It's very saddening and stressful and I'm too young to be so stressed out over a guy. I'm a Queen and a Queen deserves a King, he may be temporary but he should be a King nonetheless. I'm battling whether singlehood is more fitted for me or should I just tough it out and see if it gets better. (We all remember those drunken nights of Bryce's lonely tears). I also haven't had Arts & Crafts in so long...and haven't had the desire to do it. Idk if it's because the people here suck or if I just don't care to do it anymore. Hmm we'll see.

On the brighter side of my thought processes I've planned a pretty fun rest of my summer. I'm currently going to Chicago Gay Pride this Sunday and a few friends from Butler, Richelle, and others are coming to enjoy this weekend with me. I'm going to Zach's sisters wedding in July to reunite with my partner-in-crime, my Amber! haha and also my love Maggie!! Also in July I'm spending a weekend at Cedar Point with Leah but right now that might change to a road trip to Virginia...we'll see.

I can't wait for August where I can see the people I love, meet some new, amazing people hopefully, make an amazing home with Brendan ;) hehe, and drink drink DRINK! haha.

Love you all so much and keep the Day in the life blogs coming!!! They keep me busy!

Much love bitches,
Your Queen

A Day In The Life

Well I told my dad that May was simply a transitional month between college and home life, and that I would start reading some books in June. And then I realized the other day that it actually is June right now and that the month is nearly over, and I've yet to finish a single book. Instead, I spend a lot of time balancing two jobs: One as a bag room employee at Illini Country Club, where I wash golf clubs (efficiently enough that I was christened "Clubs Magee" last summer) and ride golf carts. Sort of like Mario Sports for Wii. That's my job. On my days off I occasionally pull shifts for my friend's dad at his law office or doing chores around his house, sometimes doing so with my friend, which is fun. We give ourselves extended lunch periods. I'm selfish and I like some days of total relaxation and me time, so I find a way to deceptively award myself at least one or two whole days off, telling my bosses I'm just working at the other job on those particular days.

In my free time, I get up as early as I can, which is usually like 10:30 or 11:00 in the morning. I've given up showering immediately upon waking up, preferring instead to head straight downstairs and watch Nickelodeon (Spongebob, Ned's Declassified, etc.) or TCM (1960s-era cowboy films are so appropriate in the morning). Sometimes, like now, I simultaneously pull out the laptop, with which I surf Facebook, order materials online through interlibrary loan or complete overdue blog posts. Like last summer, essentially every single lunch I make myself comprises of lunch meat and cheese toasted on a bagel. It never gets old.

By the afternoon I usually get bored, so I'll call up a friend of mine and we'll either shop for records downtown (mostly searching for the cheapest Beatles LPs we can find) or just hang out in his Basement, with a capitol B. Hanging out in the Basement consists of listening to records, "discovering" new things about previously listened-to music, watching VHS tapes (Wee-Sing's Grandpa's Magical Toybox is trippy as hell. Jurassic Park is alternately hilarious and terrifying), shooting pool and scratching 98% of the time, and well, you can probably guess what else we sometimes do beforehand in order to ensure that any of the aforementioned things happen.

Nighttime is tough. I have two sets of friends, and I struggle deciding how to allocate my time between them. Last summer I failed miserably, choosing to devote most of my time to this fairly new set of friends who didn't need to drink and black out every single night in order to have fun, instead searching out and listening to new music, enjoying time spent outside and doing new things. But this year, my old high school friends are much more subdued, and they drink less often and more responsibly. Therefore, I've spent more time with them, as well as doing things with individual people on certain nights. So now I don't see the friends I saw all the time last summer as much, and they're starting to question me. It's weird, and hard to explain to them, but I try not to worry about scheduling friend-time and equally dividing my attention among them anymore. It's like work. In summers past, when I've overscheduled myself and worried about everything, I've found little happiness, mostly just feeling bad for the friends I avoid. Now I'm trying to go with the flow and enjoy myself without snubbing anyone. It's not like I'm lying to anyone. I think as the summer progresses, my friends will understand that more.

But then this whole time, I keep aching to spend time with you guys! I'm enjoying my time at home with my family, friends and turntable, but it's going to be so great to hang out with you all again. I close my eyes in my bedroom, hoping to hear Bob playing a new song on his guitar. Sometimes I think I wouldn't even be uncomfortable to find Bryce using my shower. In time, future roomie. In time. Can you believe I haven't had a McDonald's sweet tea since this night???:



Also, I want to come back to school so I can meet new people and play the field a bit, if possible. There are no girls to make connections with here at home and too many past feelings and blah blah, so I feel inspired to "get out there" and be more assertive and meet some cool girls. Yeah.

And then at the end of the night I come home and watch TV or a movie, making myself a snack to munch on during. Except I feel like these late-night snacks are proving to be my downfall, so now I'm trying to run every morning in order to keep myself in shape and retain that Perfect-10 figure I'm so proud of. But I smoke too much, and running can be tough, but I still masochistically enjoy it anyway. Mostly because I'm most nostalgic about my days on the cross country team in high school, running on lazy summer mornings in peace. So by trying to stay in shape, I'm also attempting to relive the "sun-scorched memories of my youth" (Cavanagh 1).

Wow! That's my life nowadays, in a nutshell. Damn, I hope it's not too boring to read about.

no cars go.

sometimes we need a huge wakeup call to remind us how fragile life is. I can’t even begin to comprehend how much worse this could have been. From this day forward, everyday will be appreciated more than the day before. I just wanted you all to know how important you are in my life, even if I don't tell you everyday, you all mean so much to me. I'm fine, just a couple bruises on my knees and some scratches from flying glass. But my head just isn't right. i never thought that i would need something as intense as a car accident to remind me of what is important.

((rip bomber.))

dear chicago.

So for the past week, I have been in the Chicago area visiting Matt. We mostly just hung out, nothing too exciting. But on mondays in the city, they have an event called Free Music Mondays at Millenium Park. And this past monday, Iron & Wine was playing. So, Matt and I were like, 'what the hell, let's just go and check it out.' So we did. And let me tell you: When there is a free concert with a good band anywhere (especially in a large city) people will flock. Like crazy. So we managed to get into the park, but there were so many people everywhere that it wasn't even fun. And you could hardly see or hear the music. So we just decided to leave.

After about another hour of just aimlessly walking around the city, we decided that it wasn't really worth it to be there any more, and we made the trek to find a taxi to the train station so we could go back to the suburbs. On our walk to Michigan Ave, we magically pass the lead singer and guitarist of the band Maps & Atlases. This just so happens to be one of Matt's favorite bands currently, and I have really been into them lately. This man is not hard to miss, he has long hair, a beard and really large glasses. I stare in awe as we approach him on the street, almost in shock. And then next to me I hear Matt say "ohmygoshyouaretheleadsingerofmaps&atlases! ohmygoshyouareamazing! ihaveyourrecordonvinyl!" All in one breath of course. And the guy, Dave, was just like 'uh, yeah man! thanks!" He probably thought we were total fools. But we chatted with him for a bit, Matt got his photo taken with him, and he even shook my hand! All of it was very exciting. And we ended up going back to Matt's house and listening to the album about 3 times in a row.

Matt looks like a total fool in this because he wouldn't stop talking. haha.

gifts versus flaws

I was in a cafeteria line with my Dad at the hospital yesterday. I mentioned that since Marvin (my car) will be coming to school next year I really could use a GPS. It has been a constant struggle of mine to convince myself of which way is the right way while on the road. I called my terrible sense of direction a flaw.

But I caught myself.

I then called it a gift to him. When I am in my car I am in one of my few safe havens. I love getting in my Marvin and just driving. I do my best thinking in the car, on the highway, with my favorite music blasting, windows down of course (no air conditioning). I immediately dive into my conscious and frolic around in whatever fields of thought come my way. This is where I choreograph a lot of my pieces for dance. Driving on the road has always been a relief unless the gas light is on.

I call my lack of directions a gift because well I actually don't care if I miss the turn. I have been absorbing my thoughts inside and out so yeah I tend to miss turns. What makes me laugh slash damn myself is my ability to convince myself that my logic is right when I make decisions on where to go. I can convince myself that the next exit is totally the way... I usually make the wrong choice. Taking my second guess actually fails me too.

Anyway I'd rather savor my time in the car then always be moving forward in the "right" direction. My Dad was definitely enlightened by my explanation. He then make it clear that I wanted something to enable my "laziness".

Sorry I'm Not Sorry.

home again.

it's weird. being back on butler's campus when nobody else is here. it almost feels like i am in a ghost town. it would be a lot more fun if you all were here. atleast then i would be able to be bored with my friends around.

damn. i miss you guys.

can't help but hope

An intelligent man proposed an idea to me a while ago. He said that if people really want peace, we should have the leaders of the world play in a string quartet. Put all pretenses aside and work together to create beauty. Like most ideas of this nature, it reeks of lofty, high-headed, romantic, impracticality. However, ideas like this make me hopeful; hopeful for something to work for and hold on to. I can't help it. I live for this kind of stuff.

You Shouldn't Let Other People Get Your Kicks For You

One night two summers ago my cousin and I were enjoying ourselves at a party-- well maybe he enjoyed himself more than I did. I couldn't bring myself to finish my fourth beer, as I was then painfully convalescing from the consequences of the previous night's drunken revelry. Anyway, my cousin got a little crafty and approached me with a serious look on his face. He gripped my arm tightly and vehemently expressed his concern that perhaps one is entirely unable to watch a movie or read a book or listen to a musician without first hearing about it from a reputable source- be it a friend, relative, magazine or website. He said, "Would we have watched Dr. Strangelove last night if it hadn't been named one of the greatest films of all time?"

At the time, I understood what he meant, but his qualms have stuck with me and influenced me to retain as much autonomy and individual interest as possible when encountering unexperienced aspects of media. So when I flipped through someone's copy of the latest Rolling Stone this weekend and discovered an article listing, in depth, the "70 Greatest Bob Dylan Songs," I experienced an amalgamation of several feelings: elation at seeing many of my favorite songs on the list, confidence that just like Rolling Stone writers and Dylan-worshipping musicians, I knew what made these songs great, disgust with certain songs I felt should have made the list but didn't as well as the ones included that I felt shouldn't have been, and inspiration to listen much closer to songs I may have previously ignored or misunderstood.

Obviously, everyone has different taste. But when it comes to Dylan's greatest songs, it's understandable that many people would share the same favorites. I think it's important to have this sort of mutual understanding, but I am really proud to have my own choices in my own order, be them on The List or not. So I'll list here my five favorite Dylan songs to give you a taste of how I view Dylan's work, but keep in mind my favorites vary depending on my mood,. the weather, the time, where I am, what I'm doing and blah blah blah blah blah. The following is the most enduring Top Five:

1. Don't Think Twice, It's All Right [Demo-Recording] - No Direction Home Soundtrack (The Bootleg Series, Vol. 7) - 2005

The studio recording was the eighth track on 1963's The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, but I prefer the demo because although it excludes the bluesy harmonica, its stripped-down and mournful sound more accurately paints a picture of desolation and leaving a relationship.

2. Santa-Fe - The Bootleg Series, Vol. 1 (1991)

The lyrics are indecipherable and don't match up to their written documentation, but from what I can understand, they detail a life of endless wandering, the thoughts of a man who can't e tied down to a single place or person. It was recorded in the basement of Big Pink with The Band before they were The Band, so of course, the musical accompaniment is richer and upbeat. The seemingly comforting line "Don't feel bad, no no no no don't don't don't feel bad" kills me every time.

3. Like A Rolling Stone - Highway 61 Revisited (1965)

Honestly, this is one of the most important songs of all time, so it would make sense that it would be Rolling Stone's number one pick (though the fact that it is the magazine's namesake and that it was already chosen as their pick for the greatest song of all time eased any anticipation). Over time the song takes on added significance, and I find myself singing it scornfully and acidly in my head to certain girls I hate to love. Bruce Springsteen has rather articulately expressed his first encounter with the song, in a way speaking for most people, saying "The first time I heard Bob Dylan, I was in the car with my mother listening to WMCA, and on came that snare shot that sounded like somebody'd kicked open the door to your mind."

4. Idiot Wind [Alternate Take] - The Bootleg Series. Vol. 2 (1991)

Dylan haphazardly recorded most of the material on 1975's Blood On The Tracks without much help from a backing band in Minneapolis before revamping his songs and releasing them. This song is notable because it features simply Dylan on acoustic guitar and harmonica, desperately whining a depressing nine minutes of heartbreak and anger with a past love who done him wrong. In the end, though, Dylan places the blame not only on his ex-lover, but on himself, too, stating, "We're idiots babe, it's a wonder we can even feed ourselves." However, the lyrical imagery is overshadowed by the minute-and-a-half harmonica solo at the end of the song, a solo which most vividly relates Dylan's pain.

5. Chimes Of Freedom [Live] - No Direction Home Soundtrack (The Bootleg Series, Vol. 7) 2005

In my opinion, maybe the greatest of Dylan's folk-protest songs, and perhaps the greatest protest song of all time. Though instead of pointing fingers Dylan describes a truly epic thunderstorm whose lightening and thunder clang out the unjust derogation of all types of people and which is seen by everyone in a strange experience of global unity, from the outcast, the mistitled prostitute and misdemeanor outlaw to the poet, the lonesome-hearted lover and ultimately, "every hung-up person in the whole wide universe." I don't often listen to the original studio version on 1964's Another Side of Bob Dylan, instead favoring the live concert version recorded in 1964 at the Newport Folk Festival.

I love Bob Dylan. And you should, too. I know Bob Barrick does, ask him about the time I gave him "Bob's Dylan Mix."

the rain song.

for the past two weeks, 14 days, that i have been home. i think that it has rained for about 9 days. atleast. i'm sitting here, in my backyard, the sky is creepy and dark. everything looks yellow. the thunder is rolling in, and i see the reflections of lightening in the windows of my car in front of me. oh, and the sirens are going off.

was yesterday really supposed to be the end of the world? or is that today...

FEAR NOT!

Don't worry! I know you were! I haven't been sucked up to the sky by my chest yet! Just thought I'd keep you posted. Sorry I'm so terrible at posting on this blog.

I love and miss you all.

So this is what I waited for

On the train to the city

speeding past houses

then apartment buildings

then the crawling junkyard

the communal lifting bench

the psychedelic owl pressed against the wall of the overpass

Alone in my headphones

Yep, worth the wait

SUMMERTIME BLUES...

For a week now I have felt like a complete bum,
my days filled with Real Housewive marathons, Wendy Williams, Gaga/Spears,
and sleep. I AM SO BORED. Is anyone else experiencing such a depressing summer thus far?
Ugh, I don't know what to do with myself. I've applied for 9 jobs now. The weather has
been absolute shit so I've had zero beach time with my girls. It sucks. Not too mention (and
this may be TMI but oh well) I'm like having sex withdrawals. As a man and a homosexual
going from sex everyday, TWICE a day to zero times is kind of drastic. Good news though I go to Indianapolis this weekend for 5 days which should be very fun, and fulfilling.

I've been thinking in my many seconds of boredom, that we should possibly have "themed" weeks sometimes? I know we wanted to keep everything free and open to whatever but I think it would be more enjoyable to read and post if we have a week of a common topic in order to share opinions and ideas about certain topics. What do you all think? Just a thought that ran across the rainbow in my mind one day.

I'm spending the day in Chicago so I was hoping, if my camera to allows me, to take a video of my adventures for the blog. I think that would be different and fun. Because honestly I can't contribute such creative ideas, short stories, poems, and such.

Well it's time for this homos beauty rest I have tons of errands to run tomorrow and a date with Mr. Zach Kukla which requires lots of energy. Ha!!

Talk to ya next week bitches! ;)

Alphabet Alliterations.

am i always acting awfully,

between the bruises and the bumps?

can i close my creaky closet,

do my dreams downward dump?

eating everything that echoes,

fast and furious are my feelings.

growing greatly graciously,

having horrific feelings.

inside i'm interestingly intimidating

so, just jump in.

killing my kicking knowledge,

leaping from lazy limbs.

my mind meanders motionless,

not nestling near.

opening others offers,

pleasing precious peers.

queens quite quietly

rest ready with rewards

seeing somebody sweet,

to talk and tangle towards.

understanding upsets us

very carefully we validate

while we wait willingly

xoxo's will excruciate

you're young and youthful

zigging and zagging.

mehhhhhhh.

Eighth Grade History: A Stoner's Perspective

A collaborative idea posed by Brendan & Bob

Okay, so, like, there's these guys in England or something who look at their posh lifestyles with their uppity accents and their lavish mansions and boring families, and they're like, "Fuck this material horseshit. I want to live." So they called up Sir Walter Raleigh to get a charter to start a settlement across the Atlantic Ocean in the New World, which was originally founded by, like, St. Brendan of Ireland, I'm pretty sure, and then Columbus stuck his dirty fucking paws in there and raped and pillaged and stuff because he was a huge fucking asshole-

But he wasn't the only one! Practically all of the goddamn Spaniards and Frenchmen decided to put in their two cents worth and found something.

Francisco Pizarro, like, made Moctezuma II trade him rooms filled with gold and silver and shit, and in exchange, he fucking chopped his head! But Pizarro's like, "No, that's not enough. Now I'm going to rub salt in your veritable wounds and give your entire nation diseases." So he did.

Then there's fucking, Cortes, man, who very well could have been a bigger asshole than John Smith and Christopher Columbus combined. He just marches right into Aztec territory and by pure fucking chance looks exactly like their god, Quezecoatl, so they applaud him and bow down while he's riding in on his dumb fucking horse, and they boost his goddamn self-confidence and arrogance through the goddamn roof. And does the same thing as old Pizarro and rapes and pillages and spreads smallpox and eradicates the entire fucking Aztec nation so he can take as much gold as he wants-

Which brings me to the biggest fucking joke of a conquistador ever, CORONADO, who- hahaha what a fucking idiot- scours the entire American southwest looking for the fabled seven cities of gold. He spends years and years searching and all he can find are the coolest Indians ever, but he doesn't care because none of them in the Southwest have any gold. Eventually he realizes they don't exist, and I don't know what he did after that, but I hope he fucking killed himself because he was a worthless piece of shit.

-So yeah, anyway, Columbus does his dirty deeds, but, like, Amerigo Vespucci made a map of the land eventually, so for some bullshit reason he got to name it America. In any case, Old Raleigh heads over there and sets up Roanoke or Jamestown, but it doesn't really matter which he set up because they both disappeared. Isn't that messed up? Like, every one of the settlers that settled there just up and vanished. They say they were probably murdered or taken captive by the local natives- with their fucking SUN HANDS- no, get this, they were Indians with, like, deep connections to land and nature and stuff, so they had the power of the Sun and all that, and they killed these settlers. It was a fucking travesty.

So the Brits call up John Smith, who was probably the biggest fucking self-interested douchebag of all time, and they went back and tried again. Only this time, some stuff happened and I don't really know if the settlement worked or not, but Old Goddamn Awesome John Smith hooked up with Pocahontas and decided he was going to bring her with him back home, but she didn't have a fucking choice! Because she wasn't only an Indian, but she was a woman, too! So they head back to England, and Pocahontas marries John Rolfe and succumbs to tuberculosis while John Smith ditches her and writes a bunch of phony testimonials about his dashing adventures in the barbarous wetlands of America and makes a shitload of money.

So then more people settle, and in come the goddamn Puritans and the fucking pilgrims, who make up probably the biggest bullshit story of our country ever. Fucking Thanksgiving's a joke, man. You honestly believe the Indians were like, "Oh let's help out these pilgrims because they ran out of food and don't know how to hunt and build houses and all that jazz," and that they came over and feasted with them peacefully for THREE DAYS STRAIGHT where they taught them how to make fucking POPCORN? That's just a...a facade, man. It's a goddamn lie.

So more people settle, and America is built up, and blah blah blah the colonial times and the goddamn Founding Fathers- this group of phony politicians who just sat around and smoked weed out of their stupid fucking pipes and took all this credit for founding the United States of America just because everyone else was just a bunch of pussies who were tired of paying taxes and stuff. Fucking Tea Party, man. Pass that bowl, would you?

Agh! so anyway, a bunch of shit happens and then we just fight wars forever and ever amen, because we're a bloodthirsty nation and if we're not fighting we're bored. So you've got, like, the Mexican War for Independence, the Civil War, WORLD WAR ONE, the War of the Worlds, WORLD WAR FUCKING TWO, because one is not enough (I could say the same for fucking Hollywood, but don't get me started on that piece of shit), the Korean War- which was no goddamn police action, I'll tell you that-the Vietnam War, the War on Poverty, the War on Drugs, numerous wars in the Persian Gulf and the Middle East, then the worst war-related travesty of all time, which resulted in death much more severe than physical death, the War of the Worlds REMAKE. Jesus, I need a cigarette.

So it's all really a bunch of bullshit, and you can't trust anything you learn in grade school because they sugarcoat the shit out of it, man. It sucks, man. It's really a goddamn shame.

shlame

this is the first time blogger has let me get on it in almost a week. lame.

A Short Story With No Title

This is a lazily-edited shortstory that I wrote in a flash last week in case Daisy failed to come up with one of her own for her class. In this story Daisy narrates a series of surreal experiences that transpire after she moves in with Bob's family.

Halfway through Sean Hannity’s hour-long display of political douchebaggery and self-interested bravado, I realized I’d had enough. It wasn’t just Hannity that did it, but he certainly exemplified everything I detested about my parents. My first year away at school unconsciously created a nearly palpable rift between my parents and me, as I became suddenly privy to the way their extremely right-winged political views molded their behavior towards me. So I packed my father’s stupid rolling suitcase with necessities (everything else would be provided by my boyfriend Bob’s family) and split. Well, not right away. As always, I felt like I needed to impart some profound message to increase the significance of my leaving, so I faced my blanching mother and speechlessly dissatisfied father and summoned up the only words that felt appropriate: “Goodbye’s too good a word, babe, so I’ll just say fare thee well. I ain’t saying you treated me unkind- you could have done better, but I don’t mind. You just kind of wasted my precious time, but don’t think twice, it’s all right.”

Bob was already waiting for me in the driveway as I nobly exited my front door for the last time. Even from about twenty feet away I could hear Wilco blasting from inside his car, where Bob thrashed his head violently in accordance. Wilco’s effect on Bob really symbolized what my new life living with his family would be like: carefree and liberal to an extent. I felt entirely satisfied with my decision to leave home, and comfortably sank into my seat, wordlessly kissed Bob on the cheek and fell asleep.

After what seemed like seconds, Bob goofily shook my shoulder to announce our imminent arrival at his house in Noblesville. I rolled down the window to take a breath of fresh air and prepare myself for a new life. When we finally pulled into the driveway, Bob’s parents were resting smilingly in a pair of rocking chairs on the front porch, anxiously fanning themselves in the evening swelter and awaiting our arrival. Chuckling to himself, Bob said to me, “Look at those fucking porch monkeys.” He was always making some sort of offhand comment about other people, but the manner in which he spoke betrayed nothing more than comedic, purposeful insensitivity, and in any case, I didn’t really care because I loved him and his red hair and his ignorant comments.

Bob ran inside with his mother, who said she needed some help setting the table for a late meal, which left his father and me alone on the porch. “Let me get that for you, Daisy,” offered Bob’s father, a humble minister from the South. I handed him my father’s suitcase just as a tall man walking his dog on the sidewalk cast a quizzical look sideways at us. Bob’s father continued, “Some of the people that live around here aren’t very trustworthy, and I’d hate to see them steal your things on your first day here.” As we ascended the stairs and entered the foyer, I could feel the rhythmic thud-thud of the stereo system of a low-riding car passing behind me, an image I could trace back to my home in St. Louis.

As the week progressed, I began to feel more and more at ease, secure in my decision to leave home. And Bob’s family was even more hospitable than I had imagined beforehand, and I particularly enjoyed gathering together for dinner each night, where there were always plenty of laughs. One night particular Friday evening, we carried out a massive order from KFC. As we sat down at our places at the table, Bob’s father motioned with his index finger in the air and said, “Alrighty boys, you know the drill.” At this, Bob and his brothers stripped down to their boxers (Bob’s bore the Confederate flag) and selected their favorite chicken parts, leaving their parents fully clothed and my mouth agape. Bob’s brother laughed and informed me that it was a custom in their house to eat fried chicken naked so as not to get grease all over their clothes. Luckily for me, I was exempt from this ritual, so the meal was much funnier to be a part of. However, I felt slightly unsettled when Bob’s mother leaned over to me, gave me a wink and muttered, “All that’s missing from this feast is a watermelon and an old uncle finger-picking his guitar.” But I figured this is where Bob’s off-color comments came from, and learned to appreciate the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

The following Sunday morning before Mass, I woke up early and decided to take a walk and contemplate all that had happened in the past couple weeks. Observing a pair of children pushing each other into a spouting spray of water from the fire hydrant, I felt as if I had aged incalculably; I could now see all the faults that lay in my parents and how unhappy I had been in St. Louis. I decided living with Bob’s family, though foreign at times and always hectic, was far superior to miserably being bound to the shackles of my parents’ narrow-mindedness.

I walked on in the lazy summer heat, exploring my surroundings and trying to memorize the layout of Bob’s- my- neighborhood. As I rounded the corner at the end of Bob’s block to head back home, I could feel a pair of eyes following me from behind. I nervously turned around and recognized the man I saw on my first night here, once again walking his dog. I anxiously picked up my pace to a quick jaunt and made no sign that I had seen him.

“Hey! Excuse me!” he shouted, quickening his pace as well. With only a few houses to go until I could reach Bob’s, the man caught up to me and I yelped, horrified as I cowered in his shadow. He extended his hand towards me, and instead of thrusting a gun into my abdomen, he held my coin purse in his wide palm. I realized I must have unconsciously dropped it while I tried to speed away from him previously, so I took the purse from him and thanked him for his services. He introduced himself as Wilson, and asked me if I was a relative of Bob’s family. I told him that I was Bob’s girlfriend and that I had moved out of my house to live with his family. Wilson told me that when he first moved into the neighborhood, he was once friends with Bob’s parents. But one night they were invited to dine at Wilson’s, and after meeting Wilson’s wife, Tasha, they made some excuse about having a family emergency and promptly left. They hadn’t talked to Wilson or Tasha since then. I looked across the street at Wilson’s porch, where his wife was watering flowers. The sun reflected itself beautifully on her moist, black skin and I remember thinking, I wish I was as gorgeous as her.

“So let me know if you ever find out why he hasn’t called back in a while,” Wilson implored of me. I promised him I would, and walked the last few yards back to Bob’s house, where everyone sat patiently in the living room, waiting for me. In a revelatory daze I stared at their watchful faces- the boys in their pressed khakis and neatly ironed white Oxfords, and at Bob’s mother who wore a dress with a blinding floral design of edelweiss, and finally at her husband, standing in a billowing white robe which he wore as minister of the Mass. Having just gotten out of the shower, he absentmindedly ruffled his wet, snow-white hair which now stood on end. He asked me if I was ready to go, and I thought to myself, “I guess growing up is tough everywhere.”

wide eyed leaver, always going.

i really hate packing. the idea of rolling away my clothes (yes, i roll them. it takes up less space) makes me super depressed. i know that it shouldn't. because they are just clothes. but they are also memories, i guess. a lot has happened this past year. in these clothes. i graduated high school in these clothes. i turned nineteen. i started college. i met some of the greatest people i have ever known in these clothes. i experienced love and loss. i laughed and i cried in these clothes. i grew closer with my family and friends in these clothes. i figured myself out, learned a lot, grew up, fucked up, made good decisions and bad choices in these clothes. and i learned how to appreciate my life more than i thought was possible. in these clothes. just like the memories you make, and the clothes you own, you have to pack them all away eventually.

*tip for future packers: you only wear about 2/7 of the clothes that you actually bring to college. so pack lightly.

Summertime, Livin's Easy...

I just drove 9 hrs, drank a GIANT glass of milk, had a warm brownie, took a shower without shoes, and got into my bed that is twice the size of the dorm beds and comfy as FUCK.... Home is gud. :)

The Cinco from HELL!!

Hey Bitches!

So yesterdays events that transpired were quite...can we say SHOCKING. I just want to formally apologize to anyone I came in contact with, made out with, grinded on, choked, cried on, ran from, or threatened with a knife. :)

Bye bitches

Summertime

I noticed last night, while jamming with a buddy, that my voice has begun to take a more raspy tone. Now, I'm not sure if its the effect of the hardest hit a bong has ever given me, or if it's my mother's John Mellencamp obsession of my youth coming through (if that's the case, then I'm well on my way to becoming an chain-smoking wife-beater), or if it's reminiscent of Janis Joplin's pained voice she gives our fair season.

Ah, Summer. I mean, not quite yet. But, ah, the end of school. A set of what I assume are lesbian parents are sitting outside on the bumper of a Town & Country. Earlier they were bickering at Ian over how to fit a stand-up plastic drawer into the backseat. This really begs the question, is Ian the son of two lesbians? Ah, Summer.

Over Winter Break, I willed my ass off Skype to get Taco Bell. Taco Bell was closed, so I went to the gas station for my usual blueberry slushie and candybar. I found myself surrounded by flannel, which shouldn't have been all that uncomfortable for me except that these people were sporting the wool seriously. They awoke at 4 A.M. to be at work by 5 A.M. I smoked a cigarette outside the gas station, eagerly waiting for someone with whom I could discuss the Fleet Foxes.

Thus is the root of my problem with the coming season. I come from a parking lot town. Please, don't make me a target (Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga 1).

Bobdammit