June

Forgive me for being lazy. Surprisingly, work and other things in my life have kept me from being more consistent here. The songs of the day have been an amalgam of James, The Killers, Morissey, and some random indie stuff that I can't remember. Right now I'm listening to Portishead remixes, but I can't find an album cover. I began a whole entry on the concept of self-awareness but that pooped out. Maybe I'll post it sometime later when I am feeling inspired. Of course, all of five people probably read this, so it really doesn't matter (Jess, I fixed the spelling on that Feist song - for you, one of those five).

I cannot believe it is already June. This spring seems to have flown by, and I want the summer to slloooooow down. This past weekend was a delightful whirlwind of dinners; a long run with friends; baseball; many Bloody Marys; chilaquiles; a beautiful sunrise; a rigorous bike ride; long, luxurious naps; champagne; family and friends; my adorable nephew; and gorgeous, perfect Chicago weather. All in all, nearly perfect. OK OK, you can start puking. Someone (who could that be) said that when you are happy, you have little to say. I suspect I am suffering from that. Oh don't you worry, I'm waiting for life to kick the shit out of me. But right now I will be annoying and vomit-inducing.

I did, however, have a somewhat morbid thought. My grandma, who is 91 and has succumbed to Alzheimer's disease, lives in a nursing home. It was one of the most difficult decisions my mom has had to make, and she still suffers from what she feels she has done. I dropped Grandma off at her "home" tonight, and was putting away some of her freshly-washed clothes in her little closet, and I realized that those clothes are the only belongings she has to show for her life. Of course, her family is her legacy. But for now, materially she has almost nothing. Aside from experiencing the same sadness I do when I am there, I began thinking about the purpose of my life, and how meaningless are objects and collections of clothes, music, fancy high-tech toys, even cars and homes. But what to do about it? I'm not about to become an ascetic. It makes me realize, there is something to that saying: youth is wasted on the young. You don't realize the value of life, even if you realize it, until you are old and ready to face death.

That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed this nearly perfect, vomit-inducing weekend, and especially the company of the people with whom I shared it. I suppose that is one of the purposes of this life.

Summer

Tout Doucement, by Feist, from Let It Die. No picture, because I am lazy.

OK, it's been awhile. And this will not be long. I am exhausted, but I'm sitting here enjoying the remnants of this perfect Sunday, with the window open and my iPod going, while I can.

I can feel summer, and I am so excited! I'm not a big fan of heat, as some of you may know, but for some reason, I have been longing for summer this year, and I am so happy that it's finally here. Today felt, looked, and smelled like summer. I'm feeling pretty good after my first race, which was a lot of fun, but also quite frightening. I've never been so afraid for my life while on a bike. Going 40 m.p.h on a steep downhill on road bike tires will do that. I could go on and on about why it is that I feel content and happy right now, what combination of hormones and chemicals, what means my brain or heart is using to deceive itself into feeling this way, or what circumstances or chain of events, but for now I am just going to enjoy it. I am not going to the bad place! When I and the people I care about are happy, that makes me happy. And I do have to admit, that one special and somewhat new person to my life has contributed to my feeling this way.

A character on Deadwood tonight said something to the effect of, "I don't want my life living itself for me." Lately, that is how I have been feeling. One of the themes of Tolstoy, one of my favorite authors, is that one can either make decisions by doing things, by acting, or reacting, to principles they hold for themselves, or they can let life make decisions for them by default. One of my greatest fears is to look back on my life and realize that important decisions, or even small decisions, were made passively by life and my floating through it, rather than actively and purposefully making decisions. That being said, there is, of course, such a thing as thinking too much about something as well. I don't know why I'm rambling about this, but I just repeat that I hope I will live my life, rather than having it lived.

By the way, if you haven't seen Deadwood, you need to, although now it is too late because the second season is over. Too bad.

Also go see Revenge of the Sith, but only if you are fan enough to describe the relationship between Obi Wan and Darth Vadar. Otherwise, don't waste your time or mine. God, the Star Wars films are great.

Newsweek

No song today. No, today I woke up to the word "Newsweek" on NPR this morning and I immediately entered a fit of rage. Does anyone see the hypocrisy here? Anyone? The Pentagon is up in arms at Newsweek about their report that some soldiers threw the Koran down the toilet to extract confessions from prisoners at Guantanamo. OK, OK. I'm a big fan of journalistic integrity, and Newsweek did wrong. HOWEVER, the f*&#ing Bush administration, so pompous, so self-righteous, so smug, is outraged and has demanded a retraction because it blames Newsweek for the riots that broke out in Pakistan and Afghanistan.

UMMMMMMMM...OK, but it's perfectly all right to have female soldiers dress in miniskirts and tight shirts and inappropriately touch devout Muslim men, beat them, strip them, make them simulate masturbation, let's see, lock them up for up to three years with no explanation, no lawyer, no contact with family or the outside world, what else, OH YES, enter into a f&*#ing war on the basis of lies (yellowcake, WMDs, Saddam = Osama, anyone?). That's OK?!?!?! And of course Newsweek, like CBS, like everyone else, just rolls over. Oh sure, the New York Times will probably pick up on this blatant hypocrisy, but like that's going to reach anyone beyond the 5% of the population that is already outraged and helpless.

Yes, I'm still crabby.

BUT, 2 more days until "Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith" comes out. Huh, huh?

Worn Me Down

The title's purpose is two-fold: (1) "Worn Me Down," by Rachel Yamagata, from Happenstance is the song of the day; and (2) I feel, well, worn down!



I'm sulky and crabby today, so I won't say much. It's Monday, so that seems appropriate. I had a decent weekend, a great concert, a couple of parties, some strolling (highly underrated), and a nice, long ride on my bike with some friends, so I don't know what my problem is. It was the first time on my bike this season (yeah, yeah, I know), and I forgot how much fun it is! It can feel treacherous, particularly when you are riding next to drivers that feel the need to assert their superiority over a measly biker, but overall, quite thrilling! I was also glad because I don't feel sore today despite the length of our ride, and also because my bike is still working well despite that it collected dust over the long winter.

However, I've contracted this irritating cough that could get worse and I'm pissed. I've been on the cusp of sickness twice in the last couple of months. What the f&$@?!

Bleah. Nothing else to say.

Friday, the 13th

"Holdin' on Together," by Phoenix, from Alphabetical



I just realized last night that today is a Friday "the 13th." Woooooooo. Scary. My mom, who is a nurse, has always had theories that Fridays the 13th and nights with full moons cause all kinds of crazy things, including high volumes of babies being delivered, weird accidents, and the like. Doesn't make sense for someone who is pretty darn religious, but then again, religion doesn't make much sense anyway.

So this morning, I woke up to "Holdin' On Together" by Phoenix. Any rhyme or reason to this? I'm disturbed because yesterday, I woke up to yet another song from "Music from the O.C., Volume 4" (hence, no post). I think I need to stop listening to that particular album on Rhapsody. Are ya'll familiar with Rhapsody? It's this online music service that allows you to stream music live via playlists, album collections, and radio stations that you can custom design to your liking. It's a great service for someone like me, who sits in an office and writes all day long, but is impractical for people who can't stream for hours at a time. Also very professional when people walk in and I'm rocking out to Prince or Marvin Gaye. It allows you to sample albums and music before you buy CDs or download them onto iTunes. Anyway, I'm obsessed. Rhapsody is trying desperately to compete with iTunes, but not with much success, I imagine.

This morning I actually started getting excited for my first race this season, in Galena! It's going to kick my ass but it'll be fun to experience the adrenaline and just the whole ooh-aah of a race. These races are like obstacle courses or cool playgrounds that made my heart race when I was a kid (even though I suck).

And yes, I'm aware that I'm trying to avoid the banal and yet I've talked thus far about things like music I wake up to and Friday the 13th. I'll try to break it down and get all phy-lo-so-fi-cal for ya'll.

Morning song

"On the Table" by A.C. Newman, from Music from the O.C. Mix 4,

To explain this, I wake up every day with a different song in my head. I will begin posting each of these songs to determine if there is some pattern to my crazy subconscious. And because I know you care! This morning was even stranger because although I went to bed at 9:50 (not kidding), I slept in until 6:30, didn't even hear my alarm go off, and was having these crazy, vivid dreams until the moment my eyes opened, probably from the thunderstorms (which were admittedly, very cool). That's over 8 1/2 hours of sleep, people. So no sports training for me this morning. I'm pissed!

Friends and More

These recent pictures are me with my four best friends, also from Glen Ellyn. We've known each other since junior high, when we were 10 and 11 years old. Yikes! We've all seen each other with curled bangs, cuffed and tapered stonewashed jeans, and other bad, bad clothing combinations. I'm happy to say we've aged well. We've made it through junior high, high school cliques and crushes alike, pet obsessions (well, just the one pet obsession, really), prom, college, graduate school, three marriages, and more crazy shit to come, I'm sure. I am lucky to have each of these girls as my best friend, and I know that we are all going to grow old together. As one of us pointed out, we don't even look remotely alike, and we are so different in our own ways, but there are few who know me better than these four individuals. I know particularly for me, they are special because they knew my dad (no one in my current life, aside from my mom and Brian, knew him), and that makes me feel even closer to them. A connection to the past, a reminder of memories that, unbelievably, can be forgotten. What is the nature, or meaning, or purpose of friendship? I think the oldest ones are to be treasured. I know I treasure mine.

Cafe Du Monde, New Orleans 

Us at Fritzel's Jazz Pub in New Orleans 

My nephew, Timothy 

First post

Hey there everyone, here is my first post. Of course no one cares but me! I need to work now, but I will begin posting pictures and fun things like that. I will try to keep pictures of Timothy to a minimum, especially because Brian has one for that, but be forewarned, there will a lot of gratuitous Tim pictures!