"Uncle Fluffy"

That's one of my favorites. Speaking of favorites, you really don't all have to go off to where ever it is that you people go when you finally grow up into adulthood (UT Austin. Just pretend I coughed in between that to make it subtle). Seriously, we've got like a nine hundred square foot apartment attached to our house. You could live in there, do a little KWC and spend the rest of the day playing cards and drinking excessive amounts of coffee talking about nothing and everything and living where we live at our utmost comfort level in the presence of those we love and those that love us. A life full of fellowship exempt from pressure. The inert practicality should sell the idea itself. But I would imagine that's why it's called an idea and not a reality. Farewells. The ones you anticipate the least and the most for the oppurtunity to throw a pep rally turn into these bizzare sleep-walking rushed out dreams. There's got to be an easier way to say you care. I'm not about to overestimate the relationships I have. So maybe the UT thing was a little out of line. I wonder what the day when I'm on the other end of the goodbye is going to feel like.

"A crisis of confidence?"

I'm listening to this brilliant orchestra music but it's familiar. The bass line of the strings sounds familiar. The staccato flute hits coupled with a tinkling xylophone sound comforting. I'm listening to "Under Pressure" by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and it's really something. Guitar and piano both have their place, but there's something about orchestral music that's really special. With a guitar and piano you get this intimacy and a personal emotion, but orchestra can lift the music. Not saying you can't get either from either, but that's the way it usually goes. There was this stupid little quote in somebody's profile that went "I want to be your favorite hello and your hardest goodbye". It's just some angsty little quote, but I like it. I like the rhythm with the floating opposites and the actual emotional truth that surfaces. And I was trying to think of a person that was those things to me or I was those things to them. The answer is never the easy thing.

"I just assumed you wanted to include me"

There really isn't any good music on the radio anymore. That doesn't really have to do with anything. I just thought I'd say that. One of the bigger mistakes we can make is that we're not living life but merely in life's waiting room, waiting for someone to call us in. I think I'm in that place right now where it seem like anything we do matters because it's of such little consequence on a larger scale. I'm really bored.

"Now, we're going back to school"

It seems that what's important and who's important is changing on a daily basis. To everybody. I wouldn't mind getting a couple anchors. I might make a few anchors away puns to correlate to all the people I like going to colleges, but I'm not that guy and you're not that stupid. I don't want to give you a shot-for-shot of the day because that's boring, but it's safe to say that it'll be a better year. I suppose it's just a matter of keeping the right things in focus. Some things that seem more important than others are far less than we think they are. In hindsight, everytime I invest in a relationship it's like going all in on the first good looking hand I get in the round. Pocket Jacks might look killer but once the flop's out there it might be the worst hand at the table. I'm not a good poker player, I don't know if that has to do with the hands I'm dealt or the way I play them. It's easy to blame it on the cards. It rained hard today. I was thinking of what it would be like to be completely in it. Drenched within and without almost drowning in the downpour of natural water. No cell phones or wallets or pagers. Just completely ceasing to be bound to the world as the world is and freedom with a complete absence of leashes. A real person in the rain. I'm not trying to write bad poetry here. I just wouldn't mind experiencing that sometime. We've all run through rain to dry ground at some point but not everyone's really taken a second to kind of embrace that messiness. It doesn't look too bad to me.

"I don't approve of that, either"

Everyone with the hook-ups this summer. Everyone with the crazy relationships and the wearing and the cuddling and the zoo and the mixing. It's been more than a little insane. Of the two most notable, one of them's like Randy Johnson pitching in the minors. Which one am I talking about, I'm not sure anymore. But they've both been tipping the richter scale of tang lately so more power to 'em. And apparently, social security's hotter to some more than others. The Hugh Poland show with special guest stars Siskel & Ebert (two thumbs up) was in full force this morning. It's become less of an experience and more of a carnival sideshow to sit back, enjoy, and occasionally pity. We're spectators, not participants. We forfeited that right when none of us ever objected to HP and the PowerWind Hooter-Tooters bustin' out the three minute instrumental solos. All that's missing is a little witty banter from La Bamba in the horn section to cap off this variety show of song and dance. Maybe they could get Lou the Jew and his daughter Sue to write them some clever one-liners. I've pretty much given up on trying to take it seriously. Sorry. But it's all in good fun. These aren't bad people, just really funny to watch. As for the relationships, knock yourselves out, all of you. Give yourself a couple of stories to be able to talk about in couple's therapy when your marriage with that person (or another one) is falling apart. Naw, ya'll are fine.

"Can we have it back?"

I'm proud that I've created some LJ converts to stir up a little drama of their own. Everyone's lives can get a little boring without some conflict. So go nutso with these things. It's what they're for. I think we're all having a problem with trying to figure out what winning looks like. This year's bound to be rocky and I'm not wild about starting it up. At some point I want there to be a moment, at least one where I can feel like this is the kind of life I'm supposed to be leading. Then, of course, is the problem of trying to figure out what exactly that life is supposed to be. It's all about trust, as they say? Yeah, that's going to be tricky too. There's just not enough evidence for anybody's case that suggests that they're gonna be worth it as all of those with the credible evidence have gone or are going back to the real world. I suppose this where one's supposed to take a bit of a chance. I'm looking forward to when I know what winning looks like.

"Eskimo Poetry"

I think the number of people that I could say I admire, the number of people I could say "I wouldn't mind if I grew to posess some of their better qualities/characteristics" has shrunk considerably in the past year to a incredibly sad degree. Honestly, excluding the family, you figure in about 45,000 people in Kingwood, there's about nine of those I'd say I liked and about half of those I'd say I really cared about. Kingwood's a pretty friendly community so no, I don't like those odds either. So yeah, I'd say that more and more we've come to expect less and less from each other and that's not how it should be but that's the way it goes. There's not really much we can do about it. Most people have trouble not having a certain amount of control over a situation which is why college is scary and post-college is scary because there's an uncertainty of what's next and how to handle it. I think Oscar Wilde said the soul of romance was uncertainty. Maybe not the soul, but a pretty big part of it. So we'll continue singing for our lives until the music changes.

"Six to five and pick 'em"

I was thinking about the mindset a person must have when they won't allow themself any kind of love to prepare themselves for a life without any. That way when the loveless reality hits them it won't hurt as much because they won't have anything else to compare it to. I probably don't know anyone with this mindset. It's mostly about risk because those who play safe never take anything away from the table at the end of the game. I'm trying to figure out the difference between what's good and what looks good

"Excuse me, I have a meeting of Godless infidels next door"

Right now I'm weighing the importance of spoken word vs. word written. Obviously, word written is going have a more literate quality. You can pretty much say anything you want with the paper and pen because in that moment that's all you're saying it to. Spoken word is different. Words, when spoken out loud, are music. They have volume and pitch and timbre. And music has the ability to find us and move us and lift us up in ways that literal meaning can't. It's visceral and it's harder and it's more impressive in some aspects but there's also far more room for error or ommision of something you wanted to say or needed to say that you'll never have when it's just the pen in paper. It's so much easier to misspeak than to miswrite. I'm just trying to figure out which is better. It seems the moments anticipate the most become the most mundane when they finally happen to you. And the ones you never expect creep in and take on a greater importance than you were ever ready for. Surprises, surprises. Sometimes it's better to be uncomfortable.

"See that's the difference between you and me. You're small time"

Here's a little something from the recesses of unprofundity (my word. Deal with it); obviously, yes obviously when you love someone, textbook definition to really complicated and cross-wired love and we're talking about basically every degree from the slightest to most serious, you're gonna want the best thing for the person on the recieving end of that. Obviously. So what happens when you're not what's best? I guess that's where the work comes in. I feel comfortable making all these observations and discussing these concepts about relationships because of my lengthy experience with them, which allows me the right to. All these people with these problems and situations. Where's the blood? It's time for a little passion. The desires of my heart? I've only got about four, and three of them are just very wrong. When you can't meet expectations, you only have one thing you can do. You have to lower them. Or you can wait. I'll be waiting for the real thing.

"Nothing but strikes"

It's really becoming a good time to move past the era of apologizing to everyone because "I suck" or this and that or making jokes about killing myself. I don't really like that anymore and I don't really know why I ever did. The fact that it's taken me this long to learn that is a little bit crazy. I hardly think anyone would like to be in this place of "Well the people I care about the most or quite possibly the only people I'm going to have capacity to care about for a while are leaving so I'll just stick around here for two years". It's all just incredibly selfish when you get down to it, just a different breed of selfishness. It's a sad day when you're talking about other people, not your own brother, when you're talking about this stuff. I feel about seven shades of idiot right now. I think everyone's starting to forget about the one brilliant thing they were gonna do with their lives and accepting the lower road. One of the recent struggles has been, in terms of the confines of a normal friendship, how much is too much and what's not enough? Every friendship should be something you can work at with at least the hint of a promise of something more than what you started out with. I can never tell when I'm reaching too far too much and when I'm being neglectful. I was talking about someone about little gestures and they told me it was all in the details. The little things you could remember from a friendship's past and prior memories, a callback you could make. Recollections. It's pretty pathetic when there really isn't too much to call back from. A relationship predicated on a geniune care for the other person but so thin that there's not much else to it. The good times? Any times, really. I have no idea why this spark wasn't there during the school year. There aren't going to be any simpler times and it's gonna get worse before it gets better. What's funny is I consider my outlook/attitude far less negative than it was ten days ago.

"He's not a little bit crazy?"

Desire denied makes the thrist run only deeper. The second chapter of "Mere Christianity" has finally tapped into what I've been trying to tap into for a long time. It's desire vs. duty. Because you something, sometiems "I want" is a good thing. I want to serve. I want to bless you. I want to love you. Duty can become such an empty gesture. But nine out of ten, desire is full and passionate and sure of what it wants. There's some people I feel I ought to love and the few that I actually want to. And the difference is all the difference.

"Political repression? This is progress"

"When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house" It's so simple but C.S. Lewis can deliever some very polished language. It's probably the best way I've ever heard it put. Now there's an era I wouldn't mind making a comeback. The intellectual Christian elitist. I could name twenty people that go to church and fifteen of them who don't know why. This man knows a little something about his faith, a concept that's gone from underrated to near extinct. I'm trying to think of one guy in our world that's even comparable. The Ivy League Christian. The man who says why he believes something out of almost pure logic. We've got too many people on the spiritual high five days, six days after a youth camp or mission trip. We need more Ivy League snobs where Christians are concerned.

"There are worse things than no longer being alive"

Tonight was good. We climbed Mt. KHS with half the effort it took 25 and co. (That's what we're calling 23 and 2 together) I want to go back there before college departures. I feel like I should do something. I feel like I haven't done enough. All these people we've been taking for granted for so long are slipping through the cracks into the real world. Life seems degenerative and each generation, while not without exceptions, seems less than the one prior. What kind of mark can the lesser generations make? I have a friend who's talented. And that talent is how they enter the world. I think we could better ourselves by finding more than one way in. Our mark should leave echoes of nobility, humility, just character in general. It's hard to make when surrounded with so much discouragment with so much encouragement out of town. It's good serve. I could name less than a handful of people who I could say "I would give all that I have to serve by your side" but I consider myself lucky when I know people who couldn't think of that many. It seems to me, the best loves are the ones that are constantly pushing the other person into something greater. It's the daily challenges that make it a worthwhile thing. It should give you something to struggle with and fight for. Desire that can actually change the way you live your life and give you something that nothing else can, that's special. It doesn't just become about hollow words or rainy kisses. It's not about going to the right places for dinner and compromising on what to do. It's doing what's hard that transforms it into something that's something to be proud of. Conviction is good. I will never envy the person that doesn't get that.

"What kind of shot do you get with that club?"

I look around and all I can see are lowered standards. Everyone's just throwing away the ideals and expectations they once had and are settling for less than they should. Everyone's just letting other people tell them to settle for something less than what God has in store. It's sad. Patience is all it takes but apparently, that well's run dry. It seems like it's about "What can I get out of this?" rather than "What can I give you?". Giving's hard. I couldn't think of four people I would give all that I had because I wanted to. Maybe two. Maybe. I'm not trying to be your Sunday school teacher but I don't think I'm doing enough. It never seems like it's enough. Talking about it may do as much good as throwing pebbles at a ship in an effort to sink it. I'm asking are people just happier with less than the best thing. I look at everyone around me and the answer rings clear a resounding yes.

"I'm naming them Beatrice and Bluto now"

Character just got really underrated. Desire got complicated, lip-service multiplied, leadership by example died, and people got harder to love. It's harder. I think in a lot of ways it's supposed to be hard. Is it supposed to be this hard? Honestly, the best part of the day is the beginning, alone. Riding east on the greenbelts with nothing but a pair of headphones and a bike. That's where I live. Most days everything that comes after is a downhill slope. Then there's the days where the realm of possibility seems infinite. The potential within one good thing can blow the doors off the cynical chokehold life never stops throwing out there. Wow, there's a decent chance I'm full of crap. I like bluntness. I like the people who won't beat around it but just cut to it without huckling around with you. Sometimes people just need to disregard what we think is important to the other person and keep it about what's best. Relationships, one of the great topics of this world we're in. And it's not even about caring about another person passionately anymore. It's like buying a car. We're not reaching far enough.

There's such a thing

Kisses are a lot more special than we ever gave them credit for. I'm not quite sure what that has to do with anything. It's hard to tell the difference between the different kinds of love when you haven't had that much to compare them to. I'm not quite sure what that has to do with anything either. Discussion is good. Debates are good. Good points on either side of an argument are great. And in an MTV, 2 second attention span, sensationalistic generation when the exciting thing is a wardrobe malfunction or the stupid celeb of the week, talking about something and saying something worth saying about it remains underrated. Nights like these don't come often enough. Just when you think you know the score it slips away from you. The one thing, that one thing that you can whole-heartedly put your faith in got lost somewhere between the good ideas and the bad ones that looked good. I've got too many questions. See, for the boys the physical attraction is the spark that starts the fire. But it takes more than one spark to keep the fire lit. Plastic surgery versus character, the slow death of leadership by example.

Expectations

So everyone's finally back. Nine days later. 3 weeks later most will be gone again. It seems like it's only good ones that go away to make the rest stay. The good ones go to force the bad ones into something better. I spent the past nine days trying to figure it out. How was I going to make the senior year a good one. When you consider the reason I came to school to begin with was for things that abandoned me that I abandoned in return only to come back groveling in a pitiful exhibition of pridelessness. I'm a little coked up. Most of these are self-indulgent, self-absorbed, pieces of angst laced psychobabble that nobody understands but the person writing them. I'm so tired of being disappointed and not liking people. But there's always one good thing about the people around me. One good thing. It's your choice to make whether you miss out on that. That's the price you pay. When you choose alliances you're putting your trust with those people. When you can't trust anyone, what's the alternative? Lowered expectations. Expect nothing from everyone and there's no possible way that anyone will ever let you down. Or better, expect the disappointing things. The things like betrayal and loveless friendships. Expect abandonment and people who use you only as a means for something else. Expect complete ungratitude and mockery, the smaller, sarcastic things. Expect that and guess what, you will never, ever be disappointed. Live a life with expectations so low that nobody can undermine them. People can only exceed or meet them and you'll either be prepared or surprised. That's a sad way to live a life. People die to make life important. People go deaf to make hearing a piece of music beautiful. People stay to make others want to leave. People have contempt for others to make a person's love valuable. We always have this metaphor of "I would die for you" "I would take a bullet for you". Where does something like that come from? The concept of giving your life so another might live seems like such an obligation it's not even an issue of question. Is there anyone you would want to die for or just people you feel like you should die for? I could count the number of people I would on my left hand and the number of people I want to on less than that. It's driven by a selfish desire. How do I fill up the happiness? What can I do to make the pain go away? What should I accomplish? I'm not convinced it's supposed to be about that. So what's the broader purpose? The obvious Christian mantras are tiring. We're losing our spark and becoming the shells of the people we should be and can be. I want? No. It's about giving. It's the harder things.

"Always be closing"

Why is Alan Alda so awesome? He's one of the best actors of his generation and he's still getting great work. Glengarry Glen Ross, The West Wing, The Aviator. He's gonna be one of those Hollywood legends that won't quit until his heart does. There's a certain thrill to be 4th row, ten feet away from Hawkeye and George Bluth, these people you've grown up and lived with you thought were so far away. They're right there. That's theatre. Theatre, to me, seems like one of the most untouched entertainment mediums. There's never a need to speed things up or youngify a cast to get a cast hotter. There's never a need to spell things out. These things happen if they should. It's all organic and mostly natural. Or maybe not. I probably don't know what I'm talking about.

"Elitist feminist? You can't do that to the English Language."

Two days in New York without getting raped or mugged. I'm calling Guiness. Wicked would've been a whole lot better had we A) not had a horde of annoying, screeching, paper crackling, little preteen girls behind us and B) had we been closer to the stage. The whole family was a fan, which was a surprise seeing has how one of my first childhood memories was all of us watching West Side Story together and coming up with different ways to kill ourselves everytime they broke out into song. We split up later with half touring the city while the other half went to Dirty Rotten Scoundrels down on 45th. Not quite as good as Wicked, but worth it to see John Lithgow and Joanna Gleason on stage. Tonight sees Glengarry Glen Ross with ol' Hawkeye and George Bluth themselves, Alan Alda and Jeffery Tambor. My point, I like Broadway.

I've been to 441 baseball games in Yankee Stadium. There's not a single person there who's ordinary

New York: The Yankees vs. Orioles yesterday was less of a game and more of a massacre. We had pretty good seats: We bought a nice picture from a vendor and spent about an hour on the roof of the stadium parking. At one point we were harassed by a well intentioned black woman: a href="http://www.imageshack.us"> We live in Kingwood so yes, when we see one we need to take a picture. Next was Carmine's on Broadway. And let's just get the fact out of the way that driving a car in New York sucks hard. Planes, trains, taxis, and subways are fine but traffic is something of a nightmare. We ate a Carmine's and proceeded to Times Square and Ground Zero. Then we headed back to good 'ol mobster NJ. In conclusion, here's a picture of the best homeless man sign I've seen in a while:

"Free trade is essential for human rights"

The end of that sentence is "we hope because nothing else has worked." I there was a thought thought that came while riding the 'ol Brys-, er, bicycle. It's not really profound and it's probably incredibly obvious. But articulation and the the concept of being able to present an idea with style and wit is really like the verbal equivalent to an attractive woman. The girl could be a total ice-queen bitchfest horror whore of a person but if she's hot and that's all you get then you don't really care. The idea could be full of holes or be sinister in its root nature but if spoken in the right way it doesn't really matter. For instance, Kushner's AiA is a really hot girl. Some of the ideas in it are really very much covered in crap but it doesn't really matter because the way in which it's spoken makes it entertaining. There are some things on The West Wing that sound like the most noble and idealistic thing you've ever heard when it may in fact be the most socialist, communist, and about four other negative "ists" political agenda you've ever heard. A little sugar coating goes further than most people would think. Now I'm not trying to be this right-wing reactionary, xenophobic, homophobic, anti-education, anti-choice, pro-gun, "Leave it to Beaver" trip back to the 50s and I don't think I am. But it's fair to say that an argument's far easier to when you can sling a sticky web of words as a defense. There are better things than elegance triumphing over truth. Or maybe not. I really don't know what I'm talking about. Jersey isn't as bad a hellhole as Tony Soprano would have you believe. I've yet to see anyone whack a guy or dump a bag full of puppies in the river or anything. You can't turn right and nobody's white but you but that's okay because being able to say that you lived a week in New Jersey without curling up in a ball and crying like a molested Catholic schoolgirl is a bigger accomplishment than you might think.

"This man's heart is deficient. He loves, but his love is worth nothing"

It's sorta impossible to know the unknown. There's no way you can create a vision or an idea that wasn't there before and suddenly know it without it having been someplace hidden in your mind prior to your experience. Nothing that's new hasn't been old in another way before. It's all a recycling process. The bits and pieces remain the same, the trick is the way in which we choose to put them together. That's what we think separates the old and the new. It's all old though. It's fulfilling something that's old, but it's never been fulfilled so it seems new. And that's why there's no point in doing anything and we'd all be better off killing ourselves. Thank you and goodnight. Tonight didn't turn out too bad. I chose to spend it with the lovely Lauren Eggers and we had a time. Grabbed a Starbuck and watched Part I of what is possibly one of the greatest movies/plays of this generation, Angels in America. Everything about the thing is amazing. Tony Kushner's incredibly good at playing smart. Politics, he's stupid as shit. But the mimickry of intelligence is far more captivating to me than a geniune ignorance of what's smart. The core of originality is about subverting the obvious. Sometimes that in and of itself can become a genre. But then we have to think of what's new and continue to discover what's next. For those of you in our studio audience that are wondering what exactly was in my coffee or if it was somehow an Irish coffee, I can assure you that I'm is doesn't can there. And that's the greatest gift of all.

"We thank thee then, O Father, for all things bright and good"

Keggers and myself spent an evening at the theatre. Pretty much the whole night. The damn thing went on for about 7 hours. It was an uneven show but when the bright spots came, they were very bright. There's a very specific energy that comes from the experience of live theatre. As stagey as much of it is, there's a certain emotion to it that seems less disingenuous than other entertainmnent mediums. The people are right there. You're hearing their voices. You're hearing those instruments. It's not a representation. There hasn't been a process through which the person's actual talent has been distorted for better or worse. It's there in its purest form. One of the night's highlights was the perfomance of "All Good Gifts" from Godspell. They dedicated it to a member of the cast of their original cast that died. Some of the background performers started to weep during the song. And it was really something because it wasn't a sort of moment that was engineered or anticipated or even professional. It just happened. They had a good show.

"Whaa mistuh Sheffield?"

Click on the cut. The trip is worth it. We had a pretty wild night tonight. First Jared decided to watch some TV. He kept flipping through the channels And he briefly viewed some women's softball "WHAT DA HELL IS DIS?!" Then there was the epic duel of guitars. Jordan busted out a slick ditty. And Jared tried his hand at one. Jordan was displeased. He retaliated with a rockin' tune of his own. "Now that wasn't bad dude BUT...listen to this one" "Now let me just put my index finger on the G-string and the pinky over here and the ring finger right on the..." And all of a sudden..."YOU SONUMBITCH!!" And he nailed Jordan right in the melon. It hurt. "What now bitch?!" Now Jared was free to play what he thought was the most glorious tune to ever grace human ears. It sucked. But it didn't matter how good it was, for Jordan was resting eternally in the afterlife. Or was he?

"I told many, many people"

I try to keep my mind occupied with ideas. But the well's running dry. It's been running dry for years. I find myself latching onto the newest catchphrase or whatever the talking animals on TV tell me to buy. Where's the originality? Where's the creativity? There's a consistent lack of meaning throughout the past weeks. School's gone. There's literally not a reason to get up in the morning. It's all starting to run together. Consumerism and self-satisfaction are becoming synonymously empty. There's always a religion to turn to. A God to pray to. But it turns out that God and I aren't as good of buddies as I thought we were. Sometimes I wonder if he did pull up that Escalade and haul ass out of town that one summer night. But then I turn on the TV to find a Cheers rerun and pretend to forget about it. The more and more I think about my life the less and less I value it. What's my job? According to the man at the pulpit we're supposed to have servant's hearts. Some of the most amazing people I know have servant's hearts. So does that mean you can walk up to me and ask for a beej and I'll give it to you? (Don't ask me for a beej) Are beejs fair game? I can't think of more than a handful of people who's goodness is motivated out of something outside of pride, fear, or guilt. Most people are bastards. Most people are bastard coated bastards with bastard filling with a side dish of jackass. Not one relationship can I think of in the past 3 years in which the love and respect was genuinely equivocal. One side of the scale always seems to tip the other no matter what. Whatever happened to compromise? It's hard to distinguish the courtesies between the real thing. It's hard to seperate anything from the real thing. Until a couple of days ago I didn't consider the possibility that the smartass sonofabitch shtick wasn't just a desperate "LOOKATME!" means of elevating oneself above everyone else in the room. Most people weren't the smartest kid in the class. Most people didn't like the smartest kid in the class. So what'd they do? Make fun of smartest kid in the class until one day everyone bought the idea that intelligence was a vice.

Queen high

It was poker night in the apartment and the game was getting intense. The pot was big. And then the our money pot for betting was pretty big too. Then there was a bit of a disagreement between Jared and Jordan. And soon, all hell broke loose. Jared retaliated with a water bottle. And Jordan eventually gave up... MMMMMMMMjust, kiddiiing Jared tried keeping the man down with his own bare hands. Then he tried the same with Jordan. The battle waged on. Eventually, they realized that they were both winners and decided to split the pot. Then Jared got his revenge on an unsuspecting Jordan. "What dude?" He took it pretty hard. "THERE'S BLOOD IN MY STOOL!!" Then he bolted Jordan then proceeded to Terry Tate him. It was a battle of champions. Jordan nailed Jared (no reacharound). Perhaps he nailed him a little too hard. But in the end he decided not to worry about it too much and watch some Beauty and the Beast.

"Speaking of mothers, why don't I give this oatmeal some broown sugar?!"

We tend to find ourselves in the dreams in which we can't find the willpower to pinch ourselves from and what's more don't want to. There's a kind of sadness in that which could only come from years and years of self-rejection peer-rejection psychosis. Me, I'm still sleeping. But to take the metaphor even further let's say that I keep banging on that damn snooze button but for the love of God it just will not let me rest in sleep. So I have two options, end the infernal buzzing by climbing out of bed or just get used to it and not. There have been so many times in the past two years that I thought I knew exactly what I wanted. I have no idea what's going on. I know this is a time in which people such as myself are expected to be young and incredibly stupid but it's not enough to be content with what I think I can do. So I guess this is me getting out of bed. Honestly, it's like, it's 2:47 AM and I have no idea what the hell I'm saying. Other than to say that I still don't understand what makes a woman think she has nothing.

Dear Live Journal, Banquet was definitely a success. I didn't think we were gonna get nearly as many laughs as we did but alas, we did. I'm sure we offended more than a couple of people, but I think that if we didn't we wouldn't be doing our jobs right. I'm happy with the way the night went, all six hours of it. And now we rest.

"Ace, no help"

Ah, poker. It's the sport of kings. Actually horseracing is the sport of kings. But poker's up there. At the least, it's the sport of people who play poker. We were up 'til the wee night hours playing hold'em and doubles. Surprisingly enough, me and Jared were the two leading men at the table. And to be clear, poker is the only sport in which Jared and I will ever be leading in. After a string of several defeats I took it back and won a nice $20. A poker party should be in the cards for the future. So officer elections were yesterday. The 7 that won were the best 7 possible and I'm more than happy with the outcome. The still-reigning officers of this year took it upon themselves to chalk our driveways with congratulations. It was very nice (and surprising) gesture on their part so senior officers, I raise my glass to you. Banquet is nearing and nearing. Get ready for this year's SS.

Once more "Damn, I'm glad the seniors are going away. Next year will be so much better for it" ABSOLUTELY NOT Poor choice of words. My bad and my bad to compare things to things I didn't experience first hand (like any years prior). This isn't a ploy to get votes either. I personally loved this year. It was one of the best ones thus far and I'm sorry if I made it seem less than that. Optimisim can exist without a negative pessimism to balance it. No one deserved to be hurt the way I hurt some people and I really apologize for it. Incredibly bad choice of words. As a whole, it was a blast. There were several parts of it that sucked (What I was trying to say using incredibly poorly chosen words) but I had more fun that I've ever had. We're going to miss the seniors and the seniors know we're going to miss them and to imply that we're somehow not would be completely off-base. I understand that the year is winding down and tensions are high and drives are low and everyone is sensitive and I really didn't take any consequences into consideration when I made that stupidass post. This is me apologizing. I'm sorry.

Damage Control

Alright. So here's a PSA to clarify the past entries. I was not intending to hurt anybody's feelings. It was never my intention to make anyone feel like less than what they are. Am I saying "The seniors this year sucked ass and next year the seniors will be awesome because we're awesome"? No I am not. I'm saying this year was an identity crisis year. Nobody's to blame. I'm not the only one who thought it too. Sheffield himself said that this was a year about figuring out who we are. I'm not saying anyone sucked. Nobody's to blame. I'm saying that 04-05 was about reevaluating our strengths and weaknesses and the extent of what we can do. I'm saying comparatively, it didn't measure up as well as some. By itself, it was one of the greatest years of my life. I'm not criticizing anyone or trying to hurt anyone's feelings. I probably just had maybe a little too much optimism. I apologize to those I hurt.

"I miss you more than Michael Bay missed the mark"

I saw the thing that is pop show today. Hmmm. Interesting theme this year. I won't lie. The best parts were Ali Morgan's solo (excellent charisma. Stage presence in spades my friends), Molly's duet (Very animated and very well sung. Great harmony) and Amanda Thompson's Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend. Other highlights include............nope, that's about it. And yeah, granting the premise we actually go through with the horror of doing a musical next year let's all take a wild, flailing shot in the dark as to who would make the lead. I sat in Mr. Nipe's 5th period today for about 7 minutes. I've gotta say, I love Mr. Nipe. He's a crazy old bastard with a heart of gold. It makes me almost pity the man when people don't treat him with any respect. And just sitting through a dress rehearsal of thte 2005 pop show made me think that next year might be a little bit better than this year. And remember this Friday, a vote for Greg is a vote for liberty.

"IT WAS ELVIS YOU SONOFABITCH!!"

These are going to be some of our best memories when our responsibilities are at the lowest and our freedom is at the highest. There's nothing quite like high school. There's nothing after this that will be the on the same playing field. Certain things are going to start to look more and less important. And shit, I'm not even graduating yet. Having not even spent a quarter of my life, I feel like more than half of it has been wasted on the less important things. Never let anyone convince you that it's okay to do less than what you can. Intelligence will never, ever be a vice. This year is coming to a close. A close more final for some. I have a number of goals for next year, most of which I probably will never reach and the others I'll probably end up regretting making. But it's all good. We've got a while.

"You know how to use one of Theeeese?!"

You know, a good vomit every now and again can be a bit satisfying. It eliminates nausea and it feels like you're accomplishing something. And if you do it consistenly enough you can lose weight in an incredibly unhealthy way. So vomit, I raise my glass to you. Um, I have to say that those Bud Light "Real Men of Genius" radio spots are the funniest radio commercials ever produced. The singer and narrator are pitch perfect: http://budlight.whipnet.com/budlight.htm

"Even if it means taking a chubby, I will suck it up"

Today continued in a string of sucessfully satisfying days. The only thing that undermines the great fun had today is the fact that it won't be like this ever again. Change is constant but in my experience it hasn't been as equally rapid. The video is this close to being done. I'm holding my fingers pretty close together right now. It's about that close.

"Dear Greg, thanks for not hurting us. - The Pins"

Kickace night. First off we kicked it troubador style down at the Stone. Jordan picked up $15 in tips strumming the guitar while Mr. Darcy and myself had the thankless job of writing the lyrics. Then J. Mo and Ms. Darcy came up and we went down to the alley and knocked some pins down. Except for me. I did the Charlie Brown walk of shame more than a couple of times as I recieved the nickname "Gutterball Greg". The video is crossing the finish line but I still need some specific shots. Anyone in UIL that's interested in participating in some 2nd unit pick-ups can drop me a line and let me know. I've got less than 4 days.

"The Great Work Begins"

The run today was the most amazing thing Kingwood Theatre has ever graced the stage with. Thank God I had my camera. It was seriously incredible. Completely and deeply moving. If you didn't feel the passion before, you felt it then. In a whirlwind of emotions. It was beautiful. I've been given a Tuesday deadline for the documentary so if I stab someone between the eyes with a fork or pencil, don't hold me responsible. It's good but there's still about 7 tapes I haven't captured yet. It'll be a rough 6 days.

"Yep, I did do the nasty in the pasty"

So prom was pretty fun. The thing itself was, and always will be, an overrated song and dance with some pretty bad music choices. I had as good a time as possible though. The house was interesting. We didn't show up until 1:30 and so we all changed out of the tuxs and admired the massive colliseum that Jordan and Pat decided to grace us with in their spare time (8 hours). The night kinda ended when I started talking to Samantha and fell asleep with her. I was subsequently scolded to by one of the chaps and got in my bed. So I more or less slept through prom night. The today was mostly fun until it was over and I realized I got cooked like a pothead by the sun. It burns. Oh, it burns. I can't help but think how awesome next year's prom will be. Almost definitely moreso than this year.

"Smoking a J"

Last night was just about the best time I've ever had at any beach. Beaches in general tend to be uncomfortable to me. The sand and the wetness gets a little tiresome and headachey but last night was good. Last night was great. I had a fantastic time staying up until 7:00 AM keeping the bonfire alive and running around with burning palm trees and having an orgy with Jordan, Steven, Jennifer, Jillian, and Holly. Katie took pictures and man, are they hot. I took the last picture right as the dawn of the damn sun allowed it to finally peek its head out. And for the first time since I can remember, I wished I was on the other side of the camera. Curious.

"She smells like angels ought to smell"

Yes... Our UIL experience has died. I actually posted in length about it a couple of days ago but I made it private. It should be private. It's a private thing and that's what makes it special. The things we take away from something like that are completely our own and no one else's. It doesn't seem appropriate any other way. I did see Sin City Sunday and it was a delicious flick. It was shot on all-digital but regardless of the modern technique it was pure cinema. Absolutely the most beautiful looking film I've seen in a while. There is a bit of a guilty delight in loving it so much when you realize that the movie and the books upon which it's translated from is basically put together from culled elements of every adolescent boy's wet dream. It was complete style really detaching itself from any real world elements, but that's what the movies are for. The music in the trailer was especially kickass but alas, it hasn't been released. Not the instrumental version anyway. It's beautiful and perfect to use for any kind of video I might make in the future. The UIL doc is coming along great. It's gonna piss a lot of people off but I don't think I could make one without doing so. In fact, I believe that if from time to time I don't piss someone off while doing my job I'm not doing my job right. I'm not gonna lie, not everyone's equally represented. But I think that if everyone was, it wouldn't be a good video. It wouldn't be funny and it wouldn't hold your attention. I'm not trying to leave people out of the video and there will be at least one shot of everyone in it so nobody get pissed just yet. Last night was a good little birthday party. Good for the girls anyway. Me, Jared, and Jordan totally crashed the party and ruined everything. Yeah, we were bastards. Good thing the girls put a stop to that. Actually my highlight was when I busted out some "Your Song" while reading the sheet music for the first time. I didn't know I could do that. I was pretty hot too.

"I don’t want no part of your tight-ass country-club, you freak bitch!"

I'm bored. My ideas by themselves aren't half as interesting as they are when coupled with those of others. I'm sure many among us love the would-be music of our own voices. So let's try this. How would you, from your own point-of-view, from your age, and the answer being the product of the sum of experiences you had thus far, define that undyingly popular category of love? Reply my brains out.

"'YOU GET THE HELL OUT!!*

Man, I love Arrested Development. Too bad it's about to die. Shame to see it go. We won Zone, yay. We'll probably win District, yay. Why I'm not more pumped about it only God knows why. Someone get over here and pump me up.........(that's awkward) So the West Wing has been surprisingly full of non-suckage in the week's past. Alan Alda is such a badace in his role. I'm thinking about picking up some MASH DVDs, a show I have in fact never seen, just because he owns so much tail on TWW. Jimmy Smits, meh. Whatevs. And wow, 83 comments on the Defying Gregory. Guys, you take those kinds of things way too seriously. But I suppose it's my fault too for mixing some honesty with comedy. It was a half joke/half true kind of thing. In reality, only a couple of you make me want to kill myself. Don't take it so seriously. It got me probation (true story). And when I say it I mean the taking too seriously It's funny to think how this moment right now, right this second will never exist again. And it's gone by and past and it won't ever be there for a second or third time. I can't think of any one thing I've consistently loved for more than a year that should actually mean something. Loving something worthwhile. Odd? Perhaps. Maybe I'm just soulless! HAHAHAHAHA....don't hurt me guys.

"The last thing you said was 'Are you listening to me'"

You scored as Toby. What an extraodinary mind! You tested as Toby. The West Wing would fall in a heap without him, and the President would never sound as good.. Charlie 70% Toby 70% CJ 60% Leo 60% Josh 55% Will 50% Jeb (President) 50% Donna 50% Abby 25% Which 'West Wing' Character are You? created with QuizFarm.com

I love me some West Wing. By the way, I just started a KHS Theatre community (the username is KHSTheatre. I can't remember where I got the name). I encourage all that are now or have ever been involved with theatre to join up and get all unitey.

"Jesus, Gandhi, and some cats"

Good night tonight. Tonight was refreshing in the sense that I spent the majority of it with people who didn't make me feel like I should want to take my own life (non-UILers. Gotta love that ensemble). It was the first time I felt satisfied with more than 75% of the evening in quite a while. I'd do myself better to sling some ink more often. This week has been extremely unmemorable. Procrastination and apathy have been all up in my grill for far too long. But I suppose I don't really have an alternative with apathy. He just likes to hang out and eat my brain out. Then from time to time inspiration comes around and starts beating the crap out of him and gets me back in the game. But that's from time to time. I've started to question whether you can care about anything deeply without having a faith in it. Not to suggest that's a situation I'm faced with at the moment.

"Defying Gregory"

Something has changed within me Something is not so fun I knew that Katy hated me But she isn't the only one Too late to fool anybody Too late to go "Aw shucks" Now that the truth is out Everyone knows Greg sucks And they will try defying Gregory Let's see them try defying Gregory And they will bring me down ANYONE: Can't you make them understand You do not belong in the theatre I'm through accepting bullcrap Because someone says it's so I know how much I suck No reminders needed. I know I blow. I suck so hard I can't believe that Sheff was unaware I guess he didn't know me well When he made me Valere And he will start defying Gregory And he will try defying Gregory And he will bring me down Unlimited, my suckness is Unlimited And I might just try to take my own life If I use a butter knife

I have nothing to say

"I'm not really a horse, I'm a broom"

Have I mentioned how stifling LJs are? Yes, I'm aware of the whole "It makes us all braver" mantra but sometimes it's as annoying as a Greg. Like, your mind is full but you can only let the stuff that leaks out be revealed. There are so many things I'm thinking to say and would like to say and should be said and need to be said. But it would upset people or disturb people or piss 'em off or really worry them. I have some pretty mean things to say too. Mostly about me and some about others. Actually, I could really whip it out with others but I can't. It's public. It's out there on the internet cyberspace written down somewhere. You can't really do that. You don't even know how much I'm coveting one moment of pure honesty. You get some of those once a blue moon. Most honesty is either tainted with misjudgment or veiled in symbolism and cryptic language. And when truth is actually laid out, for some reason it's really shocking and disturbing. Probably because it's so scarce. It's like wading through a sea of really cheap mardi-grasesque jewelry for miles and suddenly finding an actual honest-to-God diamond. It's difficult to handle. I don't want to paraphrase Sorkin here or anything... And it's so subject to the individual's judgment. For instance, if I were to say: "I honestly believe that I have no place in theatre and I'm best used as the punching bag. I've invested so much into this thing that it's kinda unfun to realize that it never wanted me in the first place. I believe that most things and people I come in contact with are somehow less good than they were before I did. I don't think I have an identity and instead I cling onto the remnants of those around me because I'm not smart enough to make myself something. I don't have the courage to stand up for that in which I believe and the smarts to believe in anything of substance. I consider myself to be a failure and disappointment to those that know me well enough to enough. I believe that the UIL One-Act would function better without my involvement and I don't believe that if I died tomorrow it would affect anything in the big picture negatively." People would freak out. First off, they'd think I was some friendless batshit crazy emo kid who doesn't have anyone close enough to them to confide in. Or perhaps they would believe I was just insanely desperate and starved for attention enough to concoct a totally bogus little emotional vent to draw attention to myself and make people concerned. Or some would simply write me off as another of the pathetic bastards and, while slightly miffed that I'm smart enough to realize it, would agree. But that's just truth for you. Tricky little demon.

"Yeah, dude"

Today is the first of the Break of Spring. Good day. Actually no, the day sucked. The night was kickin' though. Recappy goodness... We arrived at the "resturaunt" if you would like to call it that. We were there to celebrate Jordan's birthday. Everyone was excited: AJ seemed a little tired though And that's when Jordan decided to put on the helmet to give some life to the table. (We're all giving him the finger out of frame) Chris and Kiersten then proceeded to get lost in each other's eyes thinking about how awesome they were. 54 minutes after we had ordered, the food had yet to arrive. Jordan and Mike were getting restless To pass the time Jordan tried downing his soda with a huge straw. It went through his nose and penetrated his brain matter. After he got back from the hospital, he was happy. And Chris slightly stoned. Only slighty, only slightly. All in all, it was a good night with great people and shitty service. Though for the night: Pointing out truths does not make anyone more or less ensembley. No, no, wait, damn. It does. So I suppose being ensembley means denying truth. Well, we haven't had a problem with it thus far. So, onward and upward.