Just changing the attitude towards AIDS from being "Eww AIDSy" to more like "Oh! Fun monkey disease!

I have a week and a few days left in Big Spring.
I'll be spending the last bit of my time before NYC in Denton, hopefully trying to think how much I've had to drink and swatting at Jacob.

I do miss Denton. A lot actually. I didn't think I'd miss it near as much, but it was my home for the last seven years. I know it better than I do this place. Living here is an everyday reminder of why I left. It's where I grew up, but at the same time, it's not. I didn't really come to know anything until I struck out to DFW, and that's where I feel that I actually became a 100% person.
Best times are had walking home drunk from Lou's to the apartment on Central or the house on Sycamore and knowing that everything feels alright, like, everything is in place for a split second.
I guess things are finally hitting me.
This has probably been the most eventful summer for me. The summer of changes. For the better? For the worse? It's those things that I constantly think about. I think some things had to happen for lives to be kept living. A solution to a problem. I've never been pissed about it, or wanted to write things off, but melancholy, I know thy feeling. I can't bring myself to be angry with the situation, although people tell me I will be. I'm not. I wasn't.
I know everyone's met a person that strikes a chord within you that you can't write things off, no matter what the situation. That's how I feel. I can't stop thinking of how affected I was by the whole relationship. It was a great thing.
I know that the next year, the entire first year of NYC, will probably be the hardest year of my life. I've never done anything as demanding of character as this. It's like Mad Max and the Thunderdome, although this Thunderdome has public transportation and museums.
I never write to many personal things on here, huh?

Rockin the gold tooth and lettin loose.

It's still strange to me to see how Michael Jackson has fallen in this country, yet he's still revered in others.
Speaking of other countries, I wonder what kind of impact the Harry Potter series has. I know that they're calling J.K. Rowling the reason the youth of America has returned to reading and that it's a cultural phenomenon.

Brutal, indifferent, scornful and ruthless.

On my playlist at work I seem to have this song listed more than three times. It's all in my brain matter. All the time.

You are also right to be angry that your college newspaper is not publicizing your works more aggressively.

It's like a mini mall.



Plus got a call back from the MLA, notifying me that I've in the run in the narrow margin of 20 other applicants for the same assistant position.

Go read my review of Elijah Wood. Not only on his movies, but his entire life.
"Radio Flyer" = Sadness.
"Forever Young" = Go fuck yourself.
"The Good Son" = Pansy.
"North" = Fecal matter.
"The Lord of The Rings" Trilogy = Loooong.
"Everything is Illuminated" = Jonathan Safran Foer can spin a good Holocaust yarn. Wood can't destroy it in less than 2 hours.
Sin City = Actually, I liked seeing him as a twisted sociopath a la Christian Bale.
"Green Street Hooligans" = Just because you grow a goatee does not make you tough.

I didn't see any of his other movies, but trust me, out of these that you do see, keep in mind that the goal of my small existence on the face of the planet is to denounce Elijah Wood.

I am Mount Svengali. You will do as I say.

I leave for New York City in exactly a month tomorrow.

Freedom is just chaos with better lighting.

Woke up at 6:30 am on my day off. Listened to Charlotte Gainsbourg. Played Katamari. Watched The Twilight Zone marathon for a couple hours. Phone calls from Steena. Ordered new glasses.

The Fourth of July is awfully boring.

People like blood sausage, too. People are morons.

Man. When you get something wrong at work, are you just gently reminded by your boss or are you called 17 times by the people in your city, telling you how bad of a person you are?
For anyone that cares, July Fourth is Wednesday, not Thursday, as it was printed in today's edition.
I didn't even write the goddamn story! I was busy messing with the fucking chuckleheaded police records to even think about July Fourth!
Mrs. Kinney, whoever you are, eat some dick. Don't call me anymore.

Listen, you'll have to excuse me. I have a lunch meeting with Cliff Huxtable at the Four Seasons in 20 minutes.

I was supposed to be in Denton this weekend, somehow ended up in Odessa.

Rather than going to the Last of The Interceptors show ( in this case I dismiss the Riverboat Gamblers) I stayed in Odessa to watch bands named Seven Screams of Silence, Hand Over Fist and Dead Bang Go. It's very reminiscent of the days we spent in El Paso. Very very reminiscent. Floppy dyed black hair, screaming and the occasional melody.

How did I become a part time nanny (I've heard the term 'manny' thrown loosely around) for a six year old girl?

Because my cousin and her husband are such a hip young couple barely into their 30's and still like to be scene and be seen, they feel that I have as much influence on their young daughter equal to their style of upbringing. They don't have a certain bed time for the little lady, don't like to make "rules" that would stiffen this age of enlightenment. The only super strict thing is what she eats, but that's really the one thing that I throw away.
Right now while the parents are chatting aways with my parents about TLC programs I'm letting her look at an old copy of The Believer while I write and listen to Paul Westerberg.

Honestly, I think Patton Oswalt had it right talking about people with hippie no establishment parents. That while they're young they live in this environment of no boundaries they grow up and freak out and become straight-edged civil engineers with deadlines and tee times. It's the whole rebellious attitude they take on.

But on the other hand I have to hand it to the little girl. She's from D.C. lived here for only a year, and has managed to slingshot her way into the lead ballerina at her school's ballet program. I'm impressed.

This week I interviewed Terry Webb on his new book, The Phoenix Gene. And although it's not a work of groundbreaking literature, it's a situational comedy about zombies. It's on the new releases at Barnes and Noble if you want to snag a copy, or just read my review in next weeks Diversions.