Andrew

Sun, 18 Feb 2007 23:21:01 GMT

God, I'm such a genius. I bought a tube full of tablets that turn water into Red Bull. Don't believe me? Then suck my dick.

valentine's day special - lyrics to a new say anything song

Wed, 14 Feb 2007 23:21:01 GMT

this makes "...is a Real Boy" look like baseball.

today I sat and smoked my filtered cancer
thinking about the dancer at the bar
how was I to know
that this crush would grow and grow
'till it became the love eclipsing every star
yes, I know my addictions began it
the smokes, the booze, the drugs, the 24th
but you have made the turkey colder
as if I'm not bipolar
but he lists those things about you I adore
beautiful, you're freckled slightly, your laugh's mighty
and that is why you should rock my world
I knew that you were faking when I met you
for years, I did undress you from afar
but now you're free to be an open sore like me
I would like to know just where you hide those scars
'cause you curve right where you should when you're a lady
but your slender, sleek, and somewhat sleepy eyes
atypically emoting, I'm on a lyric quoting
like I'd sell my soul to kneel between your thighs
warm glancing, entrancing, and you're amused by my sick sad prancing
and that is why you should rock my world
I want you
you're where I want you
lay my head
want you
you're where I want you
lay my head
want you
you're where I want you
lay my head
want you
you're where I want you
lay my head

with ripe wonder
I plunder the village just to see if I've become her
and that is why you should rock my
that is why
that is why you should be my girl

but I can't have you

so I watch through the stars on the way home
I watch frozen stars on the way back home
I watch frozen stars on the way home
frozen stars on the way back home

iiiiiiii want to sink my teeth into you

Wed, 17 Jan 2007 04:34:06 GMT

Andrew: So you're the famous Tony, huh?
Tony Primo: Yeah, who are you?
A: I'm Andrew, the new cashier.
TP: Cut your fuckin' hair, you look ridiculous.

So I've been able to go from zero to caffeine junkie in just two days. I now am the morning/afternoon "cashier with personality" at Caffe Primo, a restaurant that could be likened to Urth Cafe's Italian methamphetamine-addict cousin. Every item on the menu is no less than three times the quality of its Urth Uquivalent, which means panninis, frittatas, crazy delicious salads, soups, gelato, pastries, cookies, and coffee.

And ohhhhh, the coffee. I get free unlimited brewed coffee (and we always have two going at a time), and I'm required to taste each batch I brew. I brew two batches in an hour, which means by 4:05 PM today I was over-revved rotary engine manic. The caffeine high hasn't subsided yet, and I'm a little concerned that I won't be able to sleep as early as I'd hoped. My shifts start at 7:30 AM, which means I'm up at six, so I definitely need my beauty sleep.

I was standing outside Equinox (Hollywood's most exclusive gym) handing out coupons for half-off on a smoothie for a good hour today. Most people were very excited to take one, but two people stood out as definite party poopers. One certain Fred Savage responded with "No no no, I'm alright, thanks!" -- at least he was honest and semi-polite. Frankie Muniz, on the other hand (whose left arm is now covered in tattoos), said "I'm just going to run into the gym, I'll be right out". He was not right out. Yesterday, I served coffee to Kurt Russel. He sucks.

There was a funny incident at the caffe today. I was talking to a thirty-something year old hispanic man outside the gym, who works for the company who owns all the land the caffe, gym, and other things are on. His job is to water the cement. He was doing so at 8:30 AM, and still at 1:30 when I went out again. At about 2:00 PM, the following conversation transpired:

Man: Who's that nigger who works at your place?
Andrew: Huh? Who?
M: I don't know what she is, she looks half black half and half chinese, but damn is she fiiiiiiiine.
A: Oh, I know who you're talking about! I saw her once when I was applying there, she is pretty hot.
M: Yeah bro, let me know when she works --
A: Sure thing!

I then went back to the caffe. Five minutes later, the aforementioned girl walked up to the counter and started up with me:

Black: Wow, and who are you?
Andrew: Andrew [extends hand], what's your name?
B: My name's ****** (I have no idea what her name was), but I just stopped shaking hands because I saw your buddy Alex go number two without washing his hands.
A: Well that's your loss, not mine. I have coffee to brew, you're waiting on a sandwich.
B: What time are you working until?
A: Three thirty.
B: Oh damn that sucks, I don't start until four thirty!
A: ...
B: You're really interesting, I wanted to get to know you!
A: 'kay...
B: Well -- uh, I gotta run. I'll be back though, wait for me!
A: Sure thing!

No, I didn't wait for the chocolate-faced girl. Who thought I would? Even my managers were rolling their eyes and making jokes afterwards.

I was going to keep writing, but I suddenly had the impulse to clean my room instead. C'est la vie!

where are my pills? where is my former lover?

Sun, 07 Jan 2007 22:58:59 GMT

So I've been out of the livejournal thing for a little while now, and I figure I'll make a return just to do some good ol' complainin'.

It's 2:50 PM as I start this entry, and my flight out of SJC to bring me home semi-permanently is at 6:35 PM. I haven't really packed yet, I just keep getting sicker and better and sicker and better. I'm going nuts over all this. I was sick for like a week and a half in LA, felt better literally the day before coming up to Santa Cruz. Once I'm in Santa Cruz, boom! Stomach flu. I recovered from that quickly, but I haven't been able to eat anything (not so much as a meal in the past three days) lately, and now I feel worse than I did when I had the flu. My temperature changes independently of the weather, I'm sickened by the sight of food, and no matter how much I drink (I suspect I've had about a liter of water so far today) I am severely dehydrated. It's affected my mood in a moderate to severe way, because I have neither the energy, nor the motivation or desire to fold up five suitcases worth of possessions into two.

Not looking for sympathy, I swear. I'm just miserable and feel like procrastinating for ten minutes.

New Say Anything song -- terrible quality. It's called "This is Fucking Ecstasy".

anger rarely gets the best of me

Tue, 12 Dec 2006 04:11:35 GMT

GizM0bum: hola senor, what part of la were you from again?
punkanini: west!
GizM0bum: what city?
punkanini: los angeles
punkanini: west los angeles
punkanini: as in, westwood
punkanini: or beverly hills
punkanini: or culver city
punkanini: pico and beverly drive is where I'm at
GizM0bum: are those streets?
punkanini: yes, very very major ones
GizM0bum: what city?
GizM0bum: one of these days, i'll come visit you
punkanini: goddammit cheo
punkanini: fucking LOS ANGELES
punkanini: I actually live in LOS ANGELES
GizM0bum: sorry senor
punkanini: west LA, like where UCLA is
punkanini: university of california, LOS ANGELES

here's the final bullet to put our love to death

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 09:16:13 GMT

Hooray for Mulholland drive(s)! I've really missed my car, driving it, and having Benny blazing in the seat next to me. I saw him tonight, and saw Carlos Guitarlos last night. I very well might be seeing the latter man again tomorrow night around UCLA with Melissa, Linda and Jessica. Hooray for dollar twenty-five ice cream sandwiches, and hooray for frat row. Richard has been sick, but I might be seeing him as well tomorrow night, I certainly hope so. Daniel seems to be doing well, not too terribly stressed (at least anymore) about finals, and his friends Jessica and Gilda seem to be staying afloat. Ben-neh left his cell phone in my car tonight, which is funny because it's not his anyway. Somebody left a Motorola RAZR in the dog bakery a few months ago, and he stuck his SIM card in and it was from that moment on his.

I'm going to costco tomorrow morning with my mom (insert momma's boy joke here), then dropping my car off at the shop in hopes of finding out what the bloody fuck is wrong with my transmission. Anybody know of any good spots in LA to get a car sideways? Let me know.

people are fickle, we all fall in love from different angles

Thu, 07 Dec 2006 02:45:26 GMT

My life is looking somewhat dismal right now. Erectile dysfunction, no eating, no sleeping (and if I do sleep, it's chemically induced)... and I owe it all to dextroamphetamine! It really sucks having to chemically schedule your entire day. I held back on eating because I knew if I took Dexedrine I wouldn't be able to eat, but now I'm starving and really want to write my goddamn story and get it over with. I can't do that until I've taken the pill though (believe me when I say I've tried -- it's just not happening), and if I take a pill now I won't be able to eat with Rico and Nick in 40 minutes. Lada da dee da.

Day three isolated in my eight by twelve
I'm dusting off my last empty shelve
Where once stood nine empty Camel packs
is a space I sometimes reserve for prescription crack
I carefully craft a circle in crushed ADD pills
Before I do anything, I must first irrigate my nostrils

Progressively erasing the line between safe and self,
I've found it's the latter medication that helps
It's not my dad, ex, or job a recently lost
Not even seven traffic tickets, or what they cost
My dad's hope is that I finish school fast
but unlike him, I won't claw to stay above middle class

I'm here for a degree -- or two -- or so I'm told
Forgive me for a second, can I be so bold
as to read a book not assigned to me
by my teachers, friends, or family?
I hope I haven't been taught too much to learn
these thoughts just come and go; it's a pattern

"Five feet to freedom!" says my good friend Billy
As he sets down an absurdly large bong, I sigh; "really?"
I roll my eyes, he's so naive, I'm dumbstruck
I try to tell him you can't store happiness in ziploc
"To each his own" is neither appropriate nor sincere
Shirking responsibility just produces more fear

I don't find my friends' drug abuse particularly impressive
though my doctor says it's part of me too, if I'm a manic-depressive
A keg in the kitchen only perpetuates thirty drunk stereotypes
it's not as fun as it sounds, so don't believe all the hype
but who am I to judge? I like a good beer
and the pot thing was a joke -- Billy's sitting right here

Sun, 03 Dec 2006 03:31:45 GMT

Got this from a stupid drug group I belong to.

Which psychoactives have you used?
( )2cb
( )2ce
(x )2ci
( )2ct7
( x)5htp
( )5meo amt
( )5meo dmt
(x )alcohol
(x )amphetamine
( )amt
( )barbiturates
(x )benzodiazepiens (xanax, valium, etc...)
( )buprenorphine
(x )caffeine
(x )cannabis
( )carisoprodol (soma)
(x )cocaine
( )crack cocaine
( x)codeine
( )cyclobenzaprine (flexeril)
(x )dimenhydrinate (dramamine)
(x )diphenhydramine (benadryl)
( )dmt
(x ) dxm
(x )ephedrine
( )ether
( )fentanyl
( )ghb
( )heroin
(x )hydrocodone
(x )hydromorphone
( )ibogaine
( )inhalants
(x )ketamine
( )lsd
( )mda
( )mde
( )mdma
( )mescaline
(x )meth
( )meth unknowingly because your ecstacy pill contained it
(x )methadone
(x )methylphenidate (ritalin, concerta)
(x )morning glory
( )morphine
(x )nicotine
(x )nitrous
( )opium
(x )oxycodone
( )pcp
( )peyote
( )piperazines
(x )psilocybin mushrooms
(x )salvia
( )steroids
( )tramadol (ultram/ultracet)

( )other:___________________

An itty bitty end rhyme scheme for all to enjoy

Wed, 29 Nov 2006 11:14:25 GMT

(Chicago) Two Twenty Two
(Hawaii) Batu
(California) Funky Blue

Three names from three out of fifty states consumed with the same virus
The DSM-IV’s asinine equivalent term is amphetamine psychosis
Fox News -- you say it’s out of control, is it like ad revenue?
I’ve got this pair of rhyming phrases that conveys something true
Mediatized hysteria, propaganda: moral panic
Not words for the six o’clock news, unlike meth epidemic

Oh, and you know what else rhymes?
Don’t think too hard, this one’s just for kicks:
Three hundred million taxable alcoholics.

My arms have no holes, and I’m not too terribly thin
Although since sixth grade I’ve been prescribed Dexedrine
Peers, parents, and shrinks all say the same thing:
It’s not the same unless you’re pathologically depending
But then I ask what a twelve year old is like at age thirty-six
“Needing it for concentration isn’t a fix!”
I say they’re all wrong, but I pray that they’re right
And also that one pill didn’t keep me up all damn night

I despise GlaxoSmithKline
But I’m pretty sure they like me
I should start shooting speed
So at least they won’t get my money

I felt all I had slipping away

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 12:09:57 GMT

Tonight was a really fun party. It was Tyler's 21st birthday (he just got back from Australia a couple of days ago). He's so freaking skinny, it's great. I didn't know, but it was an 80s party. He looked just like Forest Kline from Hellogoodbye, so I'll attach a picture of him. I only had two beers, but it seems that all the guys in the room really like the pop-punk/indie-rock genre. They were going crazy singing along to some Hot Rod Circuit song (not to say that Hot Rod Circuit doesn't rock), and when I turned on "At Your Funeral" by Saves The Day, they went nuts. Andrew climbed a wall and pulled a piece of the railing out, it was quite funny. Mike, Billy, Ashley, Richard and I, and Phuan in the trunk (trust me I made plenty of "Cambodian girl in the trunk jokes") drove back to the Village from the party with Phuan smoking pot in the trunk even though we passed through a security checkpoint. We dropped Billy, Richard, and Phuan back at home, and Mike, Ashley and I drove to College Eight to see Giorgio. Somebody in his apartment bought a Nintendo Wii. Ben apparently wants one really badly as well. We didn't play any of the "cool" games, but I had tons of fun golfing and bowling. Very post-modern game system, it does terrifying things with space. The phone in my room has been broken for a few days now (no matter what I do it simply won't charge), so I'm sure I have a bunch of inaccessible messages that will be amusing when I finally discover. My cell phone had basically no service anywhere today, which really sucks because at one point I found a message from my mom. I will have not talked to her in a week as of tomorrow, so I'd better get on that shit -- as they say. I also have a psychology experiment to participate in tomorrow morning at 11:00 AM, that should be a riot.

Goodnight!

everything you want and need

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 02:45:01 GMT

I am going to have a GREAT thanksgiving!!

I already am...

I'm going down to the boardwalk soon to play initial d

SHE SAID: I can't get lai-- uh, take your fucking meds

Tue, 21 Nov 2006 03:29:03 GMT

There are only a few weeks left in the quarter. By my calculations, three. It could be two for all I know, I certainly hope not. I'm up to my ass in papers and a story I'm working on (here's a hint: it's about bipolar disorder). I met a girl at the Village named Ivea who is working on a 350-something page book about an apocalyptic future where people still don't give up hope and continue searching for survivors after a nuclear explosion kills basically every living creature on earth.

I signed up for a sweet History of Consciousness class today, check out the course description:

Examines the metaphors we live by in imagining time and space of the American West. Explores representations of the temporality of Californian space from prehistoric wilderness, to nostalgic suburb, to futuristic techno-utopia, to the corrupted post-modern nightmare.

I'm also going to sign up for a HisCon class taught by Angela Davis (hells yeah) as soon as some more spaces open up.

I'm writing a paper right now (same one, spiritual experience yadda yadda), and as you can tell I kind of need a break. Eric's good friend (a pro basketball player nonetheless, I forgot his name though) died a couple of days ago in a car crash -- he was cut from his team, and apparently a lot of people are suspecting suicide. So everybody be really nice to Eric today.

and, as Louis C.K. said: "I'm still not gonna fuck you, you faggot."

I'm really enjoying being single. I just hope whatever the future (er, and present) brings has an understanding of my position on monogamy. I'm sure this'll all catch up to me one day, so don't harp on me about being an asshole. At least 99% of people who've called me an asshole in the past week either love me or find me charming anyway.

Ahhhhh I'm a dick!

Mike K's little bro Zachary (though not so little) is visiting from UC Davis. Mike gets off work in a little more than thirty minutes, and then we're going to head on down to his house to christen the nook, whatever the hell that means.

Here's a picture of one of my favorite cars. Nissan Skyline GTR R34 (500+ horsepower, all-wheel drive, all-wheel steering).

when you realize it's a pattern and not a phase, it's what you've become and what you will stay

Tue, 14 Nov 2006 00:05:00 GMT

I'm getting desperate enough for a I saw your haircut in a storefront: the choppy sides and perfect bangs. I loved the way it framed the model's cheekbones and the blank expression on her face. So I went inside and tried to buy it, but I got told, "it's not for sale". I got embarassed and decked the sales clerk. I stole the wig and ran like hell. I figured I would come and show you, so I kept running for your house. Then, I remembered I don't know your address, at least not the place you sleep at now. So I hurried home to get collected, to let the red flush from my face. I took out my notebook and I sketched you smiling; I like to look at you that way. Then, I put your haircut in my closet, next to the t-shirts and those cards you sent. I turned my lights out and I sunk in slowly, counting sheep and breathing hard again. When it comes, it's way too quickly, and it busts apart the faith I've grown. See, I can't stop myself from hurting you, so I guess I won't. that I'm considering not waiting anymore. What's the worst that could happen if I just scratch an itch and just get a little "trim" and then get a real haircut in Los Angeles? I think it's a solid idea. Yeah, I'm sold.

if you're so rich, then pay for what you've done

Thu, 09 Nov 2006 14:33:28 GMT

DAMN it feels good to be a ~~gangsta~~ white male Jewish Democrat!

Prop 86 - check!

House of Representatives - check!

Senate - check!

Rumsfeld - check!

I really really hope that Paul Wolfowitz is next.

In other news, I have myself something of a headache. I'm working on (nay, crafting) a paper on a spiritual experience for Psychology and Religion. I'm sure Daniel, Yoni and Benjy would easily guess what experience I'm writing about.

Wed, 08 Nov 2006 03:44:09 GMT

Had my identity stolen, what?

Over $300 in unauthorized check card charges, what?

from now on, I'm never erasing a sentence or changing structure again

Thu, 02 Nov 2006 12:47:28 GMT

I saw Reel Big Fish tonight! I met Aaron Barrett (lead singer) at Starbucks earlier in the day, and he signed my coffee cup. He also made a lot of faces at me throughout the show, which was plenty cool. I haven't liked the band in a very long time, and still kind of don't -- the part of me that doesn't has a lot to do with the fact that for the first third of the set Aaron seemed (at least to me) to be hating every second of it, and fighting nonverbally and passively with the other band members. Despite this, their performance is something incredible. Musically it is tremendously tight, all hooks exaggerated in a very "damn, this is entirely too catchy to listen to more than once every six years" kind of way. I attended the show with Richard and Jessica (who understandably left during Streetlight Manifesto's set) -- the opening acts were Westbound Train, followed by Suburban Legends.

Argh, a little frustrated. I feel I'm losing control of myself again. I want to add that ska music (at least third wave), despite it being immensely immature, thoughtless and ultimately devoid of genuine substance, is wonderfully happy and full of positive energy. That's how every single band was tonight, and I at least could appreciate that even if every single song was a ho-hum, 4/4 two-tone beat.

New paragraph just because I'm trying to separate myself from myself once more. I had a really really amazing conversation tonight, that if I'm lucky could change my life permanently. I'm really interested in mentally ill people, including the very mild to the functionlessly severe, and I'm finding over and over again that they have just so much to offer in terms of being unique and amazingly self-actualized (or at least being on the path). I also had an amazing conversation yesterday and may be participating in a little journal of sorts documenting bipolar manic experiences. Unrelated, I find it actually sickening that people (of both sexes) find me much more attractive when I am in a more hypomanic state. It's really a little like being God, because you have to be a really good person in order to effectively (and let me add, temporarily) live with having everything you want in your world at your fingertips. It's totally do-able though, and I say it's healthier than allowing to be completely taken control of.

Every time I glance at the time it is significantly later than the last time I checked (usually at least twenty minutes), and I've slept very little in the past few days. I'm going to be good to myself and try to sleep.

My life right now feels like a maze with invisible walls that are only a barrier to me and nobody else. Nobody else can see them unless they closely follow me, and I can't see the endpoint of the maze because I'm surrounded by walls. On the more optimistic flipside, I'm feeling out every passageway in a remarkably (especially to me) quick manner, and I genuinely think I'm going to find my way out for good this time. Of course, maybe I'm just delusional. But I don't think so!

I'm gonna put-put things in perspective, and it's gonna take-take-take my precious time

Tue, 31 Oct 2006 11:03:33 GMT

For those unfortunate ones who don't get it (fuck you, you don't know cinema worth a shite), that's Michael Meyers from the 1980 classic "Halloween". That's right. It's officially Halloween right now, I'm still not asleep even though I didn't sleep last night, I have to get up early(ish) in the morning to write a story for my creative writing class which is entirely too much drama for me to handle, I'm a cruel bastard, I have class from two until four, and then work from around seven or eight (nein! hah) until late at night which means I'm probably (no definitely) missing Mike Singh's totally hoppin' party, and getting home at like four in the effing morning. A major part of me hates Subway and the late hours I sometimes/entirelytoofuckingoften have to work (totally not good for my mental health), but it's more the small things like not being able to stop smelling the "Subway Smell" even long after a shift, and not being able to stop hearing the "Subway door sensor ringing noise" that I hear everywhere I go and always turn around expecting a customer to walk in (whether I'm walking down Hagar Drive or sitting at my computer in my room). A good story is about rising action, climax, and denouement -- three things completely absent from this entry.

we've got so much thread and space, to waste waste waste

Mon, 16 Oct 2006 09:38:07 GMT

I just finished the part of my packing that I'm actually doing before I wake up tomorrow (er, a few hours). I had a good time in LA this weekend, but I worry about what I'm going back to in Santa Cruz. School, work, the like. I'm going to have to start going to bed a little earlier than 5 AM from now on... so if you see me around campus (or off) any later than midnight, do tell me to go to bed. My parents decided that since I and my girlfriend have tried cocaine a few times, I must definitely be spending all my money on crack. Not cocaine, crack. Idiots, sometimes -- eh? Anyway I've come to the conclusion that I am literally the perfect mix of maturity and immaturity, which means that I'm going to be an awesome grandpa. I thought I should write an entry before leaving this city, but I really don't have anything to say. I'm really content right now! I've included some lyrics from a KDGDB song I like and a funny picture. Night fellers!

The quiet can scrape
all the calm from your bones
but maybe it should
Maybe we need to be hollowed
to get up and grow
and stop fucking around
to kick off our braces and start straightening out.
Let's sift through the static
to find a simpler sound
Let's sift through the static
to find a simpler sound...
a simpler sound than the shit that's clouding our heads now

LA HERE I COME

Fri, 13 Oct 2006 09:51:31 GMT

Some CSOs can be such idiots. I (also an idiot) left my keys in my room tonight and didn't get home until 2:40 AM. I called the CSO dispatch to send somebody to let me in, and twenty minutes after I called a pathetic looking white middle-aged man in glasses showed up. He took me to my door (the name next to the door says Esau -- which for those of you just tuning in, is not my name), saw that the name on the wall didn't match the name on my ID card, and decided he had to call UCSC Police to verify that I was in fact a student. 2:40 in the AM he decides to speak at full volume (loud enough so that when he wasn't talking I could hear multiple people in the building either turning in bed or waking up) to the Police dispatch, asking if my name was on the list of College Eight students. The lady on the other end was unfortunately a mouth-breathingly incompetent moron, and took her sweet time trying to find my name on the computer. The two of them exchanged information back and forth (I tuned out pretty quickly, because I'm really tired and have a really bad headache) for a little bit, during which time I suggested twice that we go outside so he can talk on his radio. Both times he blatantly ignored me and continued to talk to the woman at the UCSC Police headquarters. The retarded CSO eventually got the information he needed and let me in, but he wasted my time, his, and probably woke up at least three people in my building.

Anyway, thanks to both Ben and Melissa I have a computer for the time being. Ben went to LA last weekend and brought up my laptop (which was at his house). I'd left my AC adapter in LA though, but fortunately Melissa has a desktop here AND a Toshiba laptop, which means I was able to borrow her AC adapter and charge my computer. Here I am, just a few hours before I have to wake up and begin my journey to Los Angeles. Boy oh boy, this should be a lot of fun!

Fri, 13 Oct 2006 05:52:38 GMT

This is a short photojournal of my life in Santa Cruz thus far.

still alive

Fri, 22 Sep 2006 22:31:16 GMT

I'm sitting here in Billy's room at the Village with Richard, typing a livejournal entry. Santa Cruz is wonderful, I'm enjoying myself (which is surprisingly difficult when you don't have a computer in your room) and all that good stuff. I got a job as a sandwich artist on the main street with my boys Mike and Joey, which means I'll be running bong rip relays to and from Mike's car behind the store. The manager is never there, which is good and bad for very obvious reasons. I haven't eaten yet today, so I'm probably going to head up to College Hate in the near future.

...that's it!

DIE YOUNG AND SAVE YOURSELF

Sun, 17 Sep 2006 08:49:27 GMT

I'm leaving for Santa Cruz in less than twelve hours, what a riot. First I had a room at the Village, then a few days ago I didn't. Now I have one again, let's hope there's nobody in it when I get there. I'm shaving everything on my face except the super disgusting/cute(IMO)/creepy 80s child molester mustache. The reaction I'm most excited about (other than the strange looks I'll be getting everywhere I go) is Ricardo's. He's going to laugh so hard.

There's a strong possibility that I won't have my laptop there for a while (call my cell, and if you don't have it you don't deserve it), so forgive me if I don't write here or on Myspace or Facebook or use AIM or anything else that is reality destroying.

Okay so it's been almost eight hours since the last sentence. I have to be up in three hours, I think I'm going to cry. I'm going to drink so much goddamn coffee tomorrow that the airplane will be shaking in unison with my hands. I'm off to bed... I hope I remembered to pack everything!

Santa Cruz -- "Come on bro, it's just pot."

whirrrrrrrrrrrrr

Wed, 13 Sep 2006 10:47:44 GMT

Alright. It's 3:05 AM, which is probably the latest I've been up since my parents went away. They left two and a half weeks ago for Italy, and after much coercing they left me at home. They went to Milan, Lugano (which is actually in Switzerland -- but it's so close to Italy that people parlo Italiano there), Bellagio, Palermo, Taormina, Rome, and finished the trip in London. The flight they're on arrives tomorrow afternoon at 2:35 PM. I'm picking them up from the airport, and to be honest I'm not really looking forward to it. I certainly did miss them while they were gone, but I really enjoyed having the house to myself. There are a number of things I may or may not have done during these past two weeks that I wouldn't really want them to know about, and the thought of them discovering these things makes me very anxious. I'm not a very good liar, so if they ask certain specific questions I'm not likely to respond in a convincing manner. Anyway, since my dad reads this page from time to time, I can't include anything too racy (but to my credit, I didn't do anything all that bad).

For those who haven't been keeping up-to-date with my LiveJournal or simply haven't been keeping regular communication with me, here's a quick list of the things that went wrong this summer (though by no means did I have a bad summer):

1) My Aunt, Uncle, and three cousins (ages six, eight, and eleven) came to visit for three weeks and stayed in our house. Nicht-nicht.
2) Pulled a tire clear off of my front right rim in a parking lot (it was an accident, I swear).
3) Let my left rear tire go flat due to gross negligence (forgot several times to fill it with air, resulting in a broken tire).
4) Had a nine day, severe manic episode which included some very reckless behavior (the tamest of which involved me manipulating my way into four successful job interviews in 2 hours, and not taking a single one of the jobs), and ended when my mom suspected me of abusing my ADD meds [which I had none of], testing my reflexes with a sudden "boo!" and launching me into my first hour-long sob-a-thon in at least ten years. This, of course, led to
5) An out-of-the-blue diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder.
6) Started a job as a courier/messenger for a reputable company that promised $700 a week... I made an average of $125 a week. This cost my dad
7) $650 in gas, which my dad took as a deliberate abuse on my part of the gas card he gave me, even though I was driving an average of eight hours a day for at least a month.
8) Popped a tire yet again, which of course made my parents think I am an irresponsible driver (how so, if it burst because of a nail clipper that got embedded in the tire? Nevermind that, it's all my fault).
9) Got a parking ticket.
10) Got a moving violation for crossing a double yellow line on the way to Disneyland with Ben. $346.
11) Got a fix-it ticket for having a fused headlight.
12) Got four fix-it tickets at once (this past Saturday) for not having a front license plate, not having a rear license plate, having an expired temporary operating permit, and not having my registration card on me.
13) That's seven fucking tickets, people.
14) I'm saving this spot for anything that occurred as a result of my behavior over the last two and a half weeks.
15) This one too.
16) I'm saving this spot for anything that might happen before Monday.

I definitely left a few things out, some because I forgot, others because they were too embarassing to list. I'm definitely not looking for pity here, I'm actually pointing out how even though so many bad things happened this summer (literally the highest number of fuck ups I have had in a summer), I really had a great time. There are lots of good things that kept me happy -- like my fantastic girlfriend, finally getting a real job that allows me to be creative, having the house to myself for two and a half weeks, and coming home to a completely (and oh so needed) remodeled bathroom. There were others, but it's late and I'm becoming a little unglued.

If anybody has any ideas as to how the hell I should break the news about the most recent fix-it tickets to my parents, I'm all ears. I really hope they can laugh about it and realize it's not the biggest deal in the world, and that it's not going to result in my employment at McDonald's anytime in the future. The housekeeper comes tomorrow morning, so I've spent most of my time from 4 PM cleaning around the house and destroying evidence of various types -- Rebecca helped me with that, for which I will be eternally grateful.

Anyway, I need to make another cup of coffee, try to calm myself down and go to bed. I don't want to seem like a super creepy stalker of the band Say Anything, but I did stumble across something I think is absolutely brilliant the other day. I was surfing YouTube and found something to the effect of Max Bemis' girlfriend (Laura June Kirsch, former girlfriend of Brand New/former Taking Back Sunday guitarist Jesse Lacey) interviewing him in a manner that no other interviewer as been able to accomplish. It's pretty long, but for anyone who finds Max to be an interesting person -- and believe me when I say there are a lot of people with me on this -- it will be a goldmine of entertainment. If you don't think it'll be all I've hyped it up to be, I challenge you to watch the first few minutes and/or skip to the last 5 or so minutes where Max does his Kevin Federline impression. Priceless.

I'll probably write another entry before I leave on Monday, but if not... well, I guess I won't be writing an entry.

Mon, 11 Sep 2006 21:28:48 GMT

missed me, missed me... now you gotta kiss me

Wed, 06 Sep 2006 23:56:52 GMT

Just a quick post. I am convinced that my housekeeper is either a) certifiably INSANE or b) a total and complete saint. It can't be both, and it can't be a little of one and a lot of the other. She either isn't noticing the things I've accidentally left around the house, the obvious clues as to what I'm doing with my parents gone, or she's such a good person that she's choosing to not say anything. When I see her, she is incredibly nice to me -- very friendly. She still talks to herself more than she talks to me though, so there's a good chance she's a little bit schizo. I found a blog on the internet today (while, you know... not really doing anything at work) that I actually found genuinely thought-provoking and funny. It has pictures and all that good stuff, and anyone who has turned on a TV in the last year can appreciate it. The address is http://www.lowculture.com. I go back to school on the 18th (probably, most likely, for all intents and purposes definitely), and this is a tremendous source of anxiety to me for several reasons. For one, I have no idea how I'm going to say goodbye to Rebecca/Reby/my own personal awesomeness machine. Leaving Los Angeles itself will certainly be difficult as well, as will be leaving what friends I have left here. Also, I have no less than three tickets to deal with. One for not having a front license plate, one for crossing a double yellow line (I should probably fight fight fight that one, its $346), and one for having a fused headlight. Oh, and another thing I have to deal with is where the fuck I'm going to live. I had to drop out of my housing arrangement with Mike/Melissa/Madeline for next year as I wasn't completely sure if I was going back. I applied for housing all over UCSC, and I have yet to get a guaranteed spot anywhere. Hope I'm not homeless when I go back! Anyway, things are all in all looking good. It's always comforting to know there's somebody out there much crazier than me: