Fly Me to the Moon

Let me play among the stars.

These are the times that I feel most vulnerable. I lay in may bed, barely functional, while my house is full of people, non of which are sober. I am completely out of control. At this point, there is nothing I can do about this party. I hate that. I don't understand the benefit. Is that sacrifice worth it? Like, what are we really getting out of this? A chance for our house to get fucked up and something to clean for days. We live here. When all these people leave, we will still be here. We are the only four that has any consideration for the care of this house. That is crazy to me. I love this house, and I love my roommates, but the parties alone make me want to get my own place.

We Are a Generation of Quiet Non-Believers

It is very difficult to horde money the way I have been hording money. I haven't boughten a pair of shoes in so long. There is definitely a whole lot of expenses I can cut out, though. I want to be able to get myself that birthday present really, really bad.

I bet someone that I can train to run the 40 in 4.64 seconds. My goal is to do it by the beginning of fall quarter, since I know I won't have time to train when school starts. That means I have two months and one week, so I'm going to start tomorrow. Tomorrow will basically be finding out where I am at, though. Not a whole lot of training. It's going to suck.

I used to be scared of my future. Now, I'm just impatient.

Field Reporting

I just learned that I can post blogs from my phone, so goodbye battery life. That being said, if some of these posts are completely effed up, I apologize.

Wild cherry Powerade is incredible.

It's 1:10 in the afternoon, and I still haven't eaten yet. I've got to stop with that crap. It's not that I'm not hungry. On the contrary, I'm really hungry. However, there isn't any decent food in my house, and when I first wake up, I'm usually too lazy to cook anything anyway. Both problems that are created and solvable in part by me, I know.

I-5 construction at exit 133 is starting to get under my skin. This project has been going on for years. They closed down the Sprague on ramp like 4 years ago for this shit. I read in the paper a couple weeks back that they screwed up some measurements that will cause the project to cost even more time and money. Now, I realize how much this new exit will help congestion, and I recognize the difficulties of designing and planning transportation projects, but seriously. This is basic project management. If we don't have the expertise to measure these things correctly, then what business do we have shutting down parts of the most used freeway in Washington for years at a time?

A word to some of the fast food establishments I frequent.

Burger King: I've got nothing but love for you, but the Buck Double? Really? I notice the missing cheese, and I want it back.

Arby's: I don't visit you as often as I should. That new bacon sandwich you have is off the chain.

Taco Bell: Keep doing your thing.

Taco Time: You're soft tacos are fantastic. They're the best in the Pacific Northwest fast food market but no value menu? Catch up.

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Title Pending due to Creative Block

I'm watching that new show Louie. I'm happy that it's a good show. I like Louis C.K. as a comedian. His stand up, "Chewed Up," is one of my favorites, but sometimes really funny people can produce some seriously shitty stuff. Fortunately, this show is really funny.

I spend a lot of time thinking about the future. It's like old people who live in the past but reversed. My family always tells me that I'm growing up too fast, and that I need to spend more time being young. The only problem is that I do not enjoy the things that people miss about their youth.

I would like to write more, but I have to go to work and earn money. After all, this is America. Money brings happiness while its absence brings despair. Or is it the other way around?

Flux Capacitor

The proposition of losing your memory is scary to me. I wonder if it would be better to get amnesia and suddenly lose all memory, or for your memory to slip away a little at a time. It would be nice to have the extra time with your remaining memory, but it would be a terrifying experience. I don't think I could handle it. Knowing that there are blocks of time in your history that you simply know nothing about. Like black holes of life that you once had and will never get back. I wouldn't be able to get through that. I'll take the amnesia.

What would you do if you woke up one day? Not like, waking up after going to sleep, but waking up into a different history. As if what you experienced as life was actually a dream. I guess it would be even crazier if you woke up a different age. Living a forty year life only to wake up as a 13 year old again. That would be hard to stomach.

My love for Tacoma grows everyday. I really don't have any desire to leave. I think it would be interesting to live in a few different places for periods of time, and I probably will, but I think my first home will be in Old Town. It's been so long since I've been proud of where I live. I love being able to say I live in Tacoma. I'm really excited for its future.

This prospect of settling down has begun to appear much more attractive to me lately. It still makes me really nervous, and I don't know how feasible until I have my own place. I can't decide on how soon that will be.

I've got some key choices to make pretty soon. I feel that these are choices that are significant to my future. When a stock is in a pattern of trending, where the prices are stuck in a sideways movement, never falling below its support but never breaking through its resistance, it's called congestion. You should always keep an eye on stocks experiencing congestion because as the pressure of volume builds, the stock will eventually shoot into a temporary but significant uptrend or downtrend before find new support and resistance. My life is nearing the end of a congestion period, and the analysts advise you buy the stock.

Champagne + Orange Juice = Superb. Kush + Orange Juice = Superb. Champagne + Kush + Orange Juice = Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

I'm sitting in our play room. We've done a pretty good job of outfitting the walls of our playroom. I wonder what all this says about those who live here. I've got an idea. From right to left.

An original The Little Mermaid movie poster. It's one of the ones that has the penises on the castle. I feel like a lot of people say the have a movie case with the penises. I also feel like there couldn't have been that many made and still in existence. That being said, I really do have one.

Pinnochio and the Emperor the Night movie poster. I don't know what that movie is.

All Dogs go to Heaven. That's a good movie. Not all dogs go to heaven, though.

Batman. The first one with Jack Nicholson and Michael Keaton. I feel bad for Jack. His role as The Joker will forever be overshadowed by Heath's, but Jack's is pretty freakin good, and Kim Basinger gets her groove on that one, too. Certified hottie of her time.

Do the Right Thing. Spike Lee is my homie. Miracle at St. Anna was the last movie to make cry. Like a baby.

Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. The game does not get enough credit. People always say that Vice City or GTA: III are the best. That's not true. I'm sorry. You can ride bicycles in San Andreas. You can swim. The hydro.

Robot Chicken Star Wars. I've seen every episode of all three seasons of Robot Chicken. It's always weird to watch Robot Chicken with other people. That show can get up and show you some shit that you can't unsee. I see the humor in it, though.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit. If you don't know, you wouldn't understand.

The Princess and the Frog. Dr. Facilier is one of my favorite Disney villians. It's the green, it's the green, it's the green you need. And in your future it's the green I see.

Batman Returns. I love Christopher Walken in this.

Zombieland. The best zombie movie of the last ten years. Believe that.

Gamera. I think it is really funny that we have a Gamera poster.

If you didn't know, now you know.

Welcome to my Introspective

It's one of those nights where you look at the clock and realize that it is 4:34 am, and you are not tired. More specifically, it is one of those nights where you look at the clock and realize that it is 4:34 am, and you are not tired, so you start a blog.

I will share these blogs on the various social networking sites I frequent, but this will be used as a means of self-reflection more than a way to communicate thoughts. However, don't let that deter you from reading or making comments on what you read.

I can't really give you a topic for this blog. I will mostly be discussing anything that's on my mind, which leaves little to be excluded. Hopefully, things don't get too weird.

This morning, I would like to talk about a street sign that is currently leaned against my wardrobe. A little over a week ago I went and spent the day in Seattle with the wonderful Lauren Hays. While we were there, we stopped by the Seattle Antique Market. I had never been there before. The place was really cool. You found pretty much anything you would think to find in an antique market, but I still found it incredibly interesting.

They had pinball machines. Some worked, but some didn't. I often find that I have a hard time knowing what I want. Whether it be because of a lack of certainty, lack of satisfaction, the notion that what I think I want may be completely different than what I actually want, or countless other externalities, I seldom come across something that I definitively want. I want to own a pinball machine. There is no doubt in my mind about it. Having a want absent of doubt, regardless of what the want is, can be refreshing.

Authentic street signs were sold at this market. I found one for Prospect St. The house I started renting with my roommates almost a year ago is on Prospect St. This is my home, and it is on Prospect St. I bought it, and now it is leaning against my wardrobe.

Having it sit in my room has inspired a lot of thought. It seems like virtually every decision in life is based on prospects. When you decide what to eat, you consider your prospects. When you decide where to live, you consider your prospects. When you decide where to work, you consider your prospects. When you decide how to live your life, you consider your prospects. It almost seems as if you could judge a man based on how good he is at considering prospects.

This got thinking about being a good prospect. I feel like I consider a lot of prospects without spending a whole lot of time determining my fortitude as a prospect. It is a good thing to think about. Would you kick it with you? Would you hire you? Would you sell a car to you? Would you love you?

I would like to think I could say yes to all these questions, but sometimes, I'm not so sure. But that is all life is, right? Building yourself into a good prospect.

When I was paying for the sign, the guy behind the corner said, "How are your prospects," and laughed. I thought it was a really weird question.