Lost, Hank, the grad, and other points of interest

Hey! I finished the 2-hour season closer of "Lost," read Ken's funny comment, Daniel came back up from the basement 'cause he missed the first part and didn't want to spoil anything, and now we're both on our laptops and I'm playing Oasis, which I haven't listened to in a long time even though I like it a lot and I actually made an effort to learn several of their songs on guitar so I could be cool and play them for people since most people don't care about music except for catchy songs, which is really irritating for musicians and really profitable for the music industry which I think is a strangely-setup filter for what music meets the public ear.

Homework is settling down into somewhat of a routine, and I'm a few days behind, leaving myself having to stay up super late typing up reading response questions due the next day, having to beat down the craving for sleep which has grown quite strong these days. I seem to be significantly slipping in my ability to be productive late at night, unless I'm caught up in something engaging like recording or watching Simpsons or reading Kayte's blog. Could I jack myself up on caffeine? Perhaps, but I despise the feeling of empty energy caffeine gives me, and what I know it's doing to my body. Which makes the ridiculous boom of hypocrazy quadshot megamonster green ox killer energy drinks quite nasty to my mind.

I guess it's time to write about it. Maybe a bit. I feel like an addict. I can identify with Johnny Cash's accounts of his addiction to amphetamines on more than an intellectual level. I'm an addict to doing what I want. I will throw plans and clearly-understood needs and consequences to the wind and just sit and watch TV or lay back and sleep, or go putter at something light and easy. It may not sound serious to you, but I have honestly felt trapped many times in these past months. Trapped by my own lack of willpower. Trapped by some switch inside that just decides to not do what I should, time after time, seemingly impervious to logic, reason, compulsion, encouragement, even desire. I won't write any more, but if you want to know exactly what this has been like, listen to "What a Night."

I've been listening to Hank Williams a ton. Though what I've heard on "Hank's Place"--the XM old country station--leaves me disenchanted with the genra in general, Hank Williams' work has stood out like a clear light. He is one famous, touted figure who deserves his renown. I can't confirm or deny the allegations of his fundamental influence on all following country music, but I can say that the 30 or so songs I have are clever, somehow non-cheesy (or maybe just cheesy in a way that works), sometimes sublime, sometimes profound, and....well, his concepts and words just work out perfectly, every time! "Move it on over" is about the singer moving into the dog house after his baby changed the front door locks. The verses bring out all kinds of funny aspects of the situation, incluing my favorite lines: "Now remember pal, before you whine / This side's yours and this side's mine." And "I'm so lonely I could die" contains some of the best lines ever, and perhaps the shortest summary of country music ever: "And as I wonder where you are / I'm so lonesome I could cry." Oh, and his steel guitar player is SICK! Really skilled and very tasteful. The songs, the performances, the arrangements, the recording quality...they all align into music for the ages.

I got a parking ticket today, only a few minutes after my meter had expired, and only a few minutes before I got back to the car. I was sad for myself and the cops because I had really tried to put in the time I needed, even adding a quarter beyond what I anticipated to be safe. I spent extra time on campus after working out, though, and they were apparently right on the ball. I'm sad 'cause I wish they could have ticketed me when I was really bucking the system, not when I was trying to do the right thing. $16.

I got Chicken Green Curry and General Tso's Chicken and a Thai iced coffee at the trailer for lunch. The curry was amazingly hot, but the flavor amazed me every bite. Their iced coffees are delicious, and a third the price of Starbunks. Mmm, craving iced coffee.......

Oh yeah! Daniel had a sorta graduation ceremony Monday night! It was the Family Instructors of the South Hills (FISH) year end get-together. Dinner at a building in South Park and an open-ended time for us to do whatever we wanted to celebrate Ice Man's passing from the real of the home schooled. We didn't put a lot of preparation into it, but the frenzied work at the end was worth it 'cause it was a great time to realize what's happening, step back and think about what's happened, honor Daniel, Mom and Dad, encourange fellowing homeschooling families, and have a touch point for an otherwise under-the-radar event. I got to perform my song about Daniel (which most of you have heard) and my song about Mom (which none of you know about), everybody got a few minutes to talk, and M & D gave Daniel his plaque from Grandma and Grandpa. Daniel's talk was just a few words about the gospel, in accord with I Cor. 2:2--knowing nothing among them but Jesus Christ and Him crucified. Cool and mildly shocking. It was a good night. My guitar fell off of a table and got a rather bad bash on the front edge. It made me sick and sad as I sat on the table bench hugging it, adrenaline coursing through my body, my mind's eye filled with the slow-mo picture of my beautiful sweet grand new guitar slipping and sliding towards its fall.

New Attitude is Saturday. I need it. It will be fun. I hope I can be cool and fellowship and hang out with people and not be sourly striving for popularity or satisfaction from others. I'm looking forward to getting to know Tim. I hope there's a good way to hang with the Akron people and Daniel's room over in the Galt House.

Tomorrow I have no lab (alternate team set's week) so I have nothing but reading response questions to do until Short Stories at noon. Coo'

I still am blowing copiously and frequently from my nose, and clearing my throat with unusual productivity. Stupid lingering grinding inconveniencing mucus production! Just heal, stupid body! Funny. I can jump higher, do more pull-ups and one-armed pushups, lift more relative to body size, and out-wrestle most people I know, but I pretty much have the weakest physique and composition. Any little thing seems to mess me up worse than everbody else, and for longer than everybody else. And that's on far better food and more sleep than a lot of my peers. Ugh. Wusha. Ah well. Malesh. Or more like mish afim. To understand this feeling (applied to more than physique), listen to "Slips Away."

G'night! Ugh. Too many exclamation points and smiley faces. Good night. There. The sullen cool in-control voice. The "I'm not really this over-excited dorky impressionable attention-desperate geek" voice. Pfft. Screw that, though I still try it sometimes.

--Clear Ambassador