Am I horrible?

I feel I am at times.

I've been with my current boyfriend Tim for almost a year and a half.

But I miss the friendship of my ex, Matt. When I think about him, my heart doesn't flutter, but rather my stomach churns and I get this sick feeling. I chalk it up to unfinished business.

I guess it's a final insult for how I ended it. I probably deserve it.

Still, the idealist in me hopes that one day, friendship will be possible.

But the realist sees that given Matt's emotional track record, it's extremely unlikely.

Comma Chamelion

Ok...this post has absolutely NOTHING to do with Boy George, but it happens to be later in the evening for me, and therefore my inhibitions have decreased substantially to a point where I think I'm pretty damn clever right about now. I'm sure when I read this at a later date, I'll slap my forehead and utter some self-depricating remark. But until that day arrives, the title stays. So let's let it go.

I mention commas only because recently, someone indirectly pointed out what a significant form of punctuation they actually are. Perhaps you are familiar with an '80s tune titled "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House. If not, this entire post is lost on you, and I beg you to go out an educate yourself further in the arena of music...then return at a later date. Or, simply illegally download the song and let me know what you think. Anywho- I digress....again. The song..."Don't Dream It's Over", written by Neil Finn of Crowded house is a 3 minute and 52 second joy to listen to complete with haunting melodies, full bass, complex harmonies and borderline-genius guitar work (depending on which version you happen to get your hands on).

Now...the canumdrum: Don't Dream It's Over...OR...Don't Dream, It's Over. If there was ever any excuse to loose sleep over a comma, this is certainly it, folks. Both options are a possibility as far as I'm concerned. I will first address "Don't Dream It's Over":

Don't Dream It's Over: Comma or not, the song is clearly about a relationship. Sure, it's heavily skewed at first glance, and I'll be honest, I still don't understand what he implys with certain lyrics (i.e. 'Now I'm towing my car, there's a hole in the roof. My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proof', 'Try to catch the Deluge in a paper cup', etc). However, the general tone of the song conveys a longing and a desperation that one could only associate with love. It could be DDIO minus the comma, which basically makes the song a plea for a distant love to come back in and reconnect with their partner. "I love you, we've had some rough times, the outside world has tried and tried to tear us apart, don't let them alter your perception and condemn what we have". Personally, I love this take...it's romantic and idealistic. Of course this plays on my heart strings, being a hopeless romantic, and it's the the more preferred interpretation of the two I've created in my own bored little mind. Sort of a "Love Conquers All" motif.

Don't Dream, It's Over: The comma. It doesn't change the fact that the song is about a relationship, but it does give the interpretation a complete 180º switch in what he hopes to accomplish in the said 3 minutes and 52 seconds. Instead of desperate, it strikes me more as melancholy and distant. Like he's the disillusioned lover saying that there's really no hope and love is a losing battle. When viewing the song with the comma in place, this interpretation seems most legitimate with the following lyrics: "Only shadows ahead, barely clearing a roof, get to know the feeling of liberation and relief". This hits me hard because I interpret it as him saying "Hey, it's over, it's done...we're caught in a trap (instead, this guy can walk out). We may as well embrace the breaking of our emotional bond and view it as something that can set us free and allow us to be functional individuals again." Almost as if their love consumed them to a point that it was dangerous and destructive (There is freedom within, there is freedom without).

A love that consumes can allow for much freedom to let your inhibitions run amuck like a toddler who just downed a liter of Jolt Cola, but be unbearably restricting in the same measure. While it's a weak analogy, I liken it to that outfit that makes you look drop dead gorgeous. I mean, people stop as you walk into a room and gape as you saunter by. You KNOW you look mah-velous. Unfortunately, you've given up your ability to breathe normally or sit to achieve this level of beauty. By the end of the evening, although all the attention has been more than flattering and good for the self image and ego, all you can think about is that bottle of champagne in the fridge, those nasty boxer shorts with purple stripes you've had since college and the shirt with holes in odd places, and how good that feels. The drop-dead outfit gives you power, you can woo anyone who engages in conversation with you, but the boxers...that's freedom.

Ok, maybe I lost you on the analogy, but I think I was on the right track. Anywho...what have we learned today? I'll list it:
1) I have WWAAAYYY too much time on my hands
2) Nothing was really solved, just further scrutinized
3) I should refrain from any further comparison of wardrobe to tormented relationships
4) I have an idealistic view of romance...and I really hope the song was meant to not have that comma
5) I have WWAAYYYYYY too much time on my hands

But I want to know what you think, even if your comments refer to my obvious need for a social life. We can also get into a comma/no comma debate if anyone actually ends up reading this...which is unlikely. Ok, I'm done, I'm gonna take a shower. Goodnight.

People are dumb...

Ok, I'm not exactly a chem major, but I know my elements well enough to tell you how many of them exist in a chemical compound.

I was watching millionare, and the question was "Which of these chemicals contains more than 2 elements in it..."

The obvious choice from the get-go was hydrogen peroxide. She chose arsenic. She left with $1000 dollars...which is nothing to sneer at, but had she not been stupid, she could have left with at least $16,000.

I stole a couch and got laid...

You heard me.



So...you want the story? Alright then, gather round, children, as I reiterate the tale of the night that I (we) stole a couch and got fucked.

It was a Sunday night at the Zia records in Chandler, Matt was busy glancing at the VHS while I wandered aimlessly about the store...when suddenly, a harsh reality hit. The BEST couch in the world, that sits at the back of the store, had indeed vanished.

Promptly, I worked my way over to the front counter to inquire about the dissapearance of said couch. My inquiry was met with the following:

"Oh, the couch was a shoplifting liability, plus it has holes and kinda smells". Outside I maintained my composure, but inside I was screaming "I DON'T CARE!!"

After exiting Zia's, Matt drove around to the back of the building, by the dumpsters, and there it sat...the most comfortable couch in the world. Our mission was clear, we must collect that couch. We headed over to the nearest drug store and bought 200 ft of rope and some bungee cords.

After securing this enormous couch to the top of Matt's '85 Buick, we drove back to my dorm, where I got laid.



Which was awesome. All in all, it was a night for the vaults.

A life update...

If anyone's curious as to what I'm up to (or where I'm living), I have an update with pictures up on idontremembereatingthat.blogspot.com

check it out.

Walken in 2008?

Hell yeah I'll vote for that. The president who DEMANDS more cowbell...

www.walken2008.com

My Man Zevon...

The Hula Hula Boys

I saw her leave the luau
With the one who parked the cars
And the fat one from the swimming pool
They were swaying arm in arm
I could hear the ukuleles playing
Down by the sea
She's gone with the hula hula boys
She don't care about me
She's gone with the hula hula boys
She don't care about me
They're singing,

Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana

Yesterday she went to see
The Polynesian band
But she came home with her hair all wet
And her clothes all filled with sand
I didn't have to come to Maui
To be treated like a jerk
How do you think I feel
When I see the bellboys smirk?
And I can hear the ukuleles playing
Down by the sea
She's gone with the hula hula boys
She don't care about me
They're signing,

Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana
Ha'ina 'ia mai ana ka puana

Someone might get it...

is love so fragile
and a heart so hollow
shattered with words
impossible to follow

This just in...

Paul Williams is freakin' cool. Cooler than Cool Whip.

That is all.

And yes, I'm a dork.

Testing...

For anyone who has attempted to call me or message me the past week and a half or more, and hasn't heard back from me, know that I have returned to the radar, and apologize for the delay of communication. I've been to a family reunion which lead directly into house sitting for some friends in the North Phoenix area. That basically sums it all up, just letting everybody know I'm not dead or anything.