this blog, as a whole, is needlessly dramatic because I am a really bored dude.

I've just been floating around and viewing some of you all's blogs and I noticed how much less depressing and whiny they are than mine. And I also noticed how much more you people do. Or at least maybe you blog about it more. And that's great. I just must seem like a big bag of no-fun. Which, truth be told, is one of my biggest fears - not being fun. Kinda stupid, huh? Anyways, I'm just killing time while making tapes. I'll probably end up posting three or so blogs tonight. This shit is gonna take a while.

I had to take a nap

I slept from 7 to 9 tonight. After I got home from the bike shop I sat at my desk for a few minutes, turned the Celtics game on the radio, and stared at the wall. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest. I got into bed and slept to and through the game. Boston won. Regular season ends, playoffs start this weekend. When I woke up I played Kevin at chess on facebook while chatting with him and Alison. She really wants me to go to her drunken prom event in a few weeks. She said "we'll get you laid." Not quite sure what she means by that. I assume she means that I'll end up having sex with someone I meet there. But part of me wonders if when she says "we'll get you laid" that that really means "you and I are going to have sex." I mean, she's my ex girlfriend? But whatever. I probably won't end up going. So it's moot. I spent the rest of the night watching the 1981 Eastern Conference Finals and the 1984 Finals on Youtube and looking for a Larry Bird jersey, size M on ebay. Found one, but they only accept paypal and the funds won't be available there for 3-5 days (just made the transfer). It's a home jersey, would rather have the away jersey anyhow. Going to sleep to the movie Conspiracy here in about 15 seconds. It's about the Wansee Conference in 1942. Ask Torgerson about the movie. He used to own it.

oh no

Sid brings home a girl and Cahak goes to the store.
I start to play guitar.
What an affecting situation they can be.

There's rain, there's thunder

Tonight I did fuck all. I drank a lot of vitamin water, put things on repeat. Alkaline Trio will always have a place in my heart. Showers don't take so long anymore. As a result I'm staying up later and sleeping in for a few more snoozes. Mom is a bit under the weather. I keep making plans with my parents to go home for the weekend. But it never ends up panning out. They're going to be taking a bus up to Mystic Lake soon. I'll go up there and hang out at the casino with them. At first I was skeptical, but now that I think about it it sure beats the hell out of Muscatine. I told you all and myself a few posts back that I was going to post more like Ben.


cahak: alkaline trio?

cahak: oh dip

cahak: i am moving to baltimore

me: gross

cahak: have you ever been there?

cahak: p.s. kate knives on the dope board is from yankton

me: ha

me: i shall call her yankton

cahak: me too

me: i want 80% of all my t.v./movie quotes/associations to be deadwood related

cahak: no doubt

cahak: or the wire

Doc Rivers is making some of the most blatant attempts at coach of the year

I fucking love it. Get up by 25 against the Bucks. Take all your starters out. Play the second string for the whole half as they squander the lead, miss crucial free throws down the stretch, and then fucking win in overtime. With Brian Scalabrine on the floor the whole time?? Are you kidding me? The man who will do whatever he can NOT to shoot the ball unless he's in Boston, has been standing at the 3 point line for a minimum 30 seconds until the crowd starts cheering him on so he can hoist a brick over his shoulders - is he really the guy you want in clutch moments?

Fuck it, who gives a shit?

You've clinched a playoff birth, division title, conference title, and home court advantage with 6 games left to go in the season. Single greatest one season turnaround of an NBA team ever.

Let Scalabrine pass up open jumpers he can't hit. Home crowd LOVES him. He's the big, red haired, mascot for the team. I think he's the only white guy, too. And by the way, fuck anyone who thinks the Celtics are a racist organization. Go crucify Isiah Thomas some more. At least he actually deserves it.

But it was such a brilliant move by Rivers. This game doesn't matter as far as standings go. This is like the inverse pre-season for the Celtics. Sort of a post-season pre-season.

Like that house in House of Leaves.

So he rests his starters and then basically dares the bench to lose the game that's just been handed to them. Think if they had lost? Their confidence would be destroyed. And Boston's second string is what's going to carry them through the playoffs. But it's not their talent, it's their confidence. Confidence not a single one of them ever had until this season.

But I mean, they should've fucking won anyhow. Rivers rested KG, Pierce, and Ray Allen for a whole game against the Bobcats and they won.

Whoa, I just grossed myself out on sports.

driven by spite, boredom, and guilt.

Jared has a pink eye. I guess I might have it soon then, as well. I can only think of Knocked Up at this moment. Great movie. Made me realize I shouldn't have been with my girlfriend at the time. She dumped me the next morning. It was surreal, not just infuriating.

I just got back from a covert operation. It wasn't without casualties. Tapes were heisted from Cole's. I rang the doorbell twice and Tara let me in. My stop-on-a-dime charm got me through the door. The musk of my new deodorant got me the tapes.

Just kidding. She just let me in and went back to her room. I hope Cole and Christina don't see me taking the tapes as passive aggressive. It wasn't. By any means. Well, mostly not. But if the same happened to me, I would see it that way. But I gotta get these out. It literally drives me crazy every day they sit on the shelf when they could be out for review. It doesn't do the music or the people who made it any good, either. I don't know if they know my feelings on this. I doubt we're doing this for the same reasons.

It's a slow, slow process trying to get over who you've been your whole life. Expect a few more awkward text messages, a few drunken episodes of me being mopey, random expressions of love and affection, one or two catatonic weekends, and the occasional short fuse. I'll make it up to you.

I yelled at Cahak on the way back from Cole's. Then my car got dinged in the parking lot of Subway. I got the dude's insurance information. I felt like a heel. It's just a small scratch. I bought Cahak's sandwich for him.

it's 6:47 a.m. and I'm just waiting my turn for the shower

Went to bed last night at 8 p.m. Woke up at 4 a.m. I got a very nice text message from Alison around 1:15 a.m. I responded back around 5 a.m. I went down to put the whites through another drying cycle. They were a damp mound on a table. Someone must've taken them out of the dryer last night. No big deal. They should be dry before I leave for work at 7:30 a.m. I got to see Cahak come home from work not too long ago. He had a bag of snacks, pockets full of change, and mentioned that he was going to do that sleep thing. Jared's in the shower, coughing, and I'm just waiting my turn, getting movies ready to put in the mail. We're having a party on April 18th. You should check it out.

I'll make something out of it

I have a voice mail saved from Kevin that I'm a little nervous to listen to. I called him but no answer. Called Kat too. Shawn for good measure also. No answers. Makes sense, it's Saturday afternoon. I'm going to go pay rent and buy a bike! It's time to start over.

That's all

I love noise jams because it's like listening to your friends practice in the basement. They've been going for about a good hour and a half, ran through the set maybe 2, 2 and a half, times and they took a break, passed the bong around, turned on the four track and thought intensely about the potential awkwardness of every possible social situation while just wailing eternally on all the notes they were playing. And only if they were your friends would you enjoy it. Otherwise you'd immediately call it dog shit. To like this kind of music you have to feel like you know these people. Otherwise you're alienated by the intimacy of the whole thing. It's like if your parents were to act out King Lear to you and your new girlfriend, naked and drunk on Mad Dog. You have to feel like you want to know these people after living inside their awful, stupid skin for at least an hour and a half.

the first these arms are snakes e.p. will put your skull on the wall

This is the time of year
for punching in passwords,
verifying advisor i.d.s,
and plain getting down
in the south of our minds -
giving the big OK to everyone
without thinking
twice or at all the next day
or year.

I feel like a thousand buttholes

A car alarm keeps going off outside every 3 minutes. I've been sick for the last couple of days. There's a lot of pressure on my chest and head at the moment. In about 15 minutes I'm downing a quantity of nyquil and climbing into bed with an improving d.v.d. This week and next week I'm working 10 hours days at work. I probably won't be doing a whole lot after work. I paid my taxes tonight. Yeah, paid. WTF. Friends, I miss you.