mud and weeds

I'll cleave you in two.
Sharaun and I rented Garden State tonight, what an excellent movie. Made me think a lot about some of the times I go back home to Rockledge. Seeing old friends, seeing old places. It was a really, really good movie (at least, to me). I think that Scrubs-guy is my hero… writing and directing such an awesome movie. And great Lord in heaven… Natalie Portman is the single most attractive woman on the planet (both physically and a little bit because I think I could make her be in love with me). Seeing her in that movie only helped to cement her into that position atop my list of “best” women (non-attainable women, mind you). Maybe I liked it so much because it centers on people who are my age, going through what people who are my age go through when they “go home.” The scene with Simon & Garfunkel’s The Only Living Boy In New York nearly made me cry. So good.

A while ago, Sharaun got these neato print-your-own iron-on sheets to make t-shirts with. Today, since I’m taking full advantage of being on vacation and indulging in laziness, I decided to make a couple of shirts. I made one shirt full of alchemy imagery, and one full of Voynich Manuscript imagery. Sharaun said they’re “stupid” and “devil-worshipy.” Yeah, so maybe it’s kinda “dumb” to have t-shirts with stuff from old manuscripts and stuff… dumb indeed. Owell, it’s not the first time I’ve been dumb.

It has been raining on our little house for nearly two days straight, without so much as an hour break. Our half-done backyard is all mud and weeds… the little trees all bare for the winter. Because of the rain, I’ve been hold up inside a lot these past couple days… I actually like it. Back in high school, I’d sometimes get the urge to hide away in my room for an entire day and make “songs.” Fancying myself a brooding artist or something, I dunno, I’d purposely not shower… just wallow in grease and pluck a guitar with the tape running. My “songs” sucked. Most of them are sung in my I’m-afraid-of-singing, cartoony Adam Sandler voice. I made two tapes though… edited down into songs and everything… Sharaun still has one, and I have it on the headphones as I write this. So. Effing. Terrible.

I guess there are a limited number of way to approach a “blog.” You can write about what you did that day, like a running ticker at the bottom of CNN or something. You can write super-introspective, raw, personal-type stuff… riddled with bad poetry and a depressed, lonely air. You can be a political pundit or social activist. I guess, actually… there are probably an infinite number of ways to approach a blog. My way, I think, is haphazard… but the semi-permanent theme is always “make ’em laugh.” I guess that’s what I’m trying to do, overall. Tell stories, pontificate, make fun of myself, whatever.

When I was a kid and we used to take long trips in cars, I’d sometimes pretend I could shoot a laser beam from the tip of my index finger. The laser beam was molten-hot, or razor-sharp, or both, and whatever it fell upon was cut right in two. I’d sit in the seat and “aim” the beam out the window, slicing everything in the car’s moving path to the same horizontal plane. Trees, people, buildings, other cars, whatever… I could slice them right in two along the plane of the moving laser. An odd daydream.

If there’s one thing good about being up at 11:30pm on a Thursday, it’s that, on this particular Thursday, I don’t have to go to work on Friday. If there’s two things good about it, it’s that I don’t have to go to work, and that the garbage truck will come take away our garbage tomorrow morning while I sleep in.


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