Looking Towards the Future, We Were Begging For the Past...

I have absolutely dreadful luck sometimes.

It's Sunday, right? I've just gotten off work and am on my way to Hayesville for my grandfather's 70th birthday thingy. Well, I get to about the Ingles sign (in Blairsville) and all the tread on my driver side front tire just uhhh...peels off. Luckily, I was able to pull into the Westgate parking lot and fix it (and by fix it, I mean change the tire), but still...It sucked. I wound up cutting my hand on the metal shards sticking out of my stupid tire AND not going to Hayesville. Lame? I think so. For this, I completely and totally blame Randy Zimmerman. He's been "ready to paint" my car for, hmmm...let's see...over a month. Basically, my normal car has been in his shop since the week after school started. All he was gonna do was replace a part and paint it. Normally a 2 or 3 day job? Not for this guy. But I digress.

I have absolutely awesome luck sometimes.

It's Monday morning, and I am in a group with Katie Wesche, Ed Drake, and Josh Loftis in Physics. We're trying to roll a ball down a ramp, across a table, and finally into a cup on the floor. We're supposed to do a bunch of math for it, but we didn't get done with it in time so I just pointed to a random spot on the floor and said to put the cup there. Well, we did, and when we rolled our ball down the ramp, it went right across the table and...you guessed it...right into the cup. We were the only group to get it in. Wooo.

Things are still weird, but not as bad as they have been. Since I'm bored, here are some song lyrics. Maybe you can relate to them, maybe not? I dunno. I've already posted a lot of these, but oh well. Sometimes I remember periods of my life with what music I listened to at the time. It's just like some people saying, "the smell of burning leaves reminds me of my grandfather. He would always rake all of the leaves into a pile and burn them on cold Saturdays in October" or whatever. Maybe no one really says that and I'm just weird. Whatever. Here are song lyrics. Read them if you feel like it. I don't know how many there are gonna be by the time I'm finished so sorry if there's like a million.

"Everywhere I go, everyone I know comes with. Wonder how many more I can fit inside this crowded, crazy heart...Just don't let it be the last time you come into my life. Don't let it be the last time you come into my heart."
--Paul Baribeau, "Last Time"

"I can't help but feel like I failed, I know I failed you all."
-- The Alcoholic Freshman, "Letters to Home"

"There's a monster, and it lives inside my chest."
-- Patrick Cadaver, "Monsters"

"I'm getting my last wisdom tooth in now. Maybe this'll be the one that works?"
-- Wildebeest, "Wisdom Tooth"

"My brain's repeating, 'If you've got an impulse, let it out,' but they never make it past my mouth."
--Death Cab for Cutie, "Sound of Settling"



Ok, I'm done. Adios.

It's Always Easier To Say That People Love You and That Everything Will Be OK...

Sometimes I wish I was 5-years-old again. Carefree. Simply taking in nature and not worrying about anything besides the sun being out. Sometimes I'll be driving and get an image of some beautiful local scenery, usually during the current season, -- postcard quality stuff -- and I can't help but wish I was there once again with nothing to worry about, simply soaking it all in. And just as soon as these thoughts enter, they leave again. I realize I'm in the same spot, and it's totally different, and I don't like it. Not at all.

Sometimes I think about old friendships and whatever happened to them. Sometimes I miss them, but most of the time I don't. That's probably the one thing I don't miss too much about the past. Just looking at some of the people I used to hang out with, it's a wonder that I turned out the way I did.

Sometimes I wonder what things would be like now if I never even existed or if I grew up somewhere else. Y'know, if I've even affected anyone at all. It's a strange thing to think about.

"Freedom" is nothing but a word. Everyone always says, "You'll have more freedom when you're older," but now that I am older, I believe -- know -- that is an outright lie. The older you get, the more entangled you become in arbitrary things. I felt more free when I was 5-years-old that I do now at age 17. We're trapped. We're lost. We're so far from home. Life is too short to take the small things for granted. Step outside and look around for a minute. Take a walk through your yard. Go sit under a tree. Something. Anything to break the monotony of your daily cycle. Unless you're totally satisfied with everything. Then nevermind.

I'm sorry. I dunno why I typed all this up. And sorry if I've seemed kind of distant in the past couple months. Things have been really weird lately. I don't really feel like getting into it all here, but yea. Sorry.

I Saw Two Shooting Stars Last Night...

I wished on them, but they were only satellites.
Is it wrong to wish on space hardware?
I wish, I wish, I wish you'd care...
--Billy Bragg

Ok, so I'm a few days late on this. Sue me.

Friday night was the first football game. Union vs. Towns. Exciting. I was completely and totally enthralled by the whole game, brimming with excitement as we actually scored. Right. Anyway, yea. Football game. The football team did "real good," as the football players would say (I actually think they weren't that great...I mean c'mon...It's Towns County. They're a division below us. Or at least they were.). The band did alright too, I suppose. The fresh batch of "band retards" as I like to call them were annoying, but hey, they're the band retards...What else would I expect (PS -- I'm not referring to freshman when I say "band retards." I'm talking about any moron in band. There are several)? All in all, an adequate night. It's the beginning of the end of my band career. Oh noes!

Moving on, I felt pretty awful / exhausted after the game so I went home and passed out on my couch around 12:30, woke up around 4, and finally went back to sleep until about 10 or so. I like to sleep. After I officially got up I checked the mail and had 3 CDs waiting for me! Woooo. The best part is, I pretty much got them for free. Oh the perks of running a record label. The guy that sent them to me is actually really awesome though. He's a friend of mine from Chicago. I think I'm gonna release his next album. If I'm not dying from anything, we might do a split CD. It'll be epic. At least his side will. Mine's bound to suck, although I am slowly coming out of my 4-month long writer's block. I still hate all my songs though. Yargh.

Speaking of dying and song singing, my appointment to see Wendy Smith (a throat specialist) is on the 24th of this month. In case you somehow missed it, I've had a sore throat since, uhmmmm, May? I went to the doctor at the walk-in clinic to see if he could spot anything right off, but the guy I got is a retard and told me nothing. I really think I have calloused vocal cords and that sucks quite badly, as they either require nearly 3 months of rest or surgery. Yikes.

Again on the theme of dying, I post on a music forum and in the general crap section someone made a thread about Horcruxes (Harry Potter). Their question was where would you put yours? It's actually really hard to think of where you'd want part of your soul to be forever (until the Horcrux is destroyed at least!). And yes, Horcruxes involve some of the darkest magic. Whatever. If you're a big enough nerd to care change the question to "what memory would you think of in order to conjure a patronus?" Anyway, mine were Fall 2005, campfires at 7070 T Chapel Road, a random tree in the middle of the woods around my house, my grandfather's tractor, and Jon Crocker's beard (nothing would ever get to it there). I really couldn't think of anymore. It was a lot harder than I expected. How about you guys? Where would you put yours (just in case I need to go destroy them someday. )? < / nerd >

On a completely and totally unrelated note, school has been going alright so far. I don't feel like elaborating because I'm lazy, but there ya go. In case you were wondering for some reason. One thing that kinda sucks, though: I don't have any classes with people of mixed...uh...classes. I'm stuck with seniors all day (well, except in Trig, but that's beside the point). I hate my class. Well...Not really. I just like the other classes better. Maybe I'm just immature? I dunno. I just don't like being stuck with the same people all day.

OH! Talking about school reminded me. I registered for the SAT today, and it was pretty awesome because according to the College Board site, I was supposed to have to pay a $22(!) late fee (the normal sign up date was yesterday), but they hadn't updated their shopping cart feature to tack it on yet so I totally didn't have to pay it. Wooo internets! Now off I go to sign up for the ACT. Magical.

Oh, and another thing about school. I swear I'm gonna shut up about this soon. I can't park on campus for 5 days. It's kinda lame though. Lemme set the scene. It's Friday, and I haven't gotten a parking permit yet because all of my insurance and crap is in my normal car, which is being worked on / painted, right? Well, I finally get all that stuff on Sunday, and I go to get my parking permit on Monday, right? I get out to my car and there's a ticket there, so I'm thinking, "Alright, cool, warning...whatever...I've got the pass now so I'm ok." Well apparently I either a) didn't get a warning, b) the warning blew off, or c) someone took the warning off, because what I got said that it was my second offense. So yea. It pretty much sucks. I wouldn't care at all if I had actually gotten the first ticket. My guess is that it just blew off because that's what the one on there Monday was about to do until I grabbed it. Oh well. At least I'm not paying for gas for 5 days.

Again, wild tangent here, but this year has been quite nice as far as music goes. New Andrew Jackson Jihad, Jon Crocker, Paul Baribeau, foreverdown, Toby Foster, Sam King, redbear., Alcoholic Freshman, 1994, imadethismistake, Joshua Fletcher & the Six-Shot Romance and that's just off the top of my head. Coming soon there's tons more awesome (yes, "awesome: as a noun): Peasant, Farewell Flight, Defiance Ohio, The Accident That Led Me To the World, Hop Along Queen Ansleis, Lemuria, Jon Crocker (yes, again), Max Levine Ensemble, and tons more. I'm pumped. And soon to be broke once I buy it all! Ahhh! There's also been a bunch of disappointing albums come out this year (Starting Line, Cartel, Bright Eyes), but I digress.

Ok, so there's the long post I promised. Hopefully it made up for me completely and utterly lying to everyone who reads this (whoopdedo), if anyone even made it this far. Here's to hoping you (don't) fall off a cliff today. Cheers.

Before They Changed Me I Was Pure...I Was A Baby Being Born...

I feel like death. A headcold mixed with an already sore throat. Magical.

Longer post tomorrow. It's nearly 1 in the morning...I'm going to bed.

You've Got Those Tired Eyes All the Time...

Ah, Labor Day Weekend. If you've never had the privilege of doing so, working in a restaurant around holidays pretty much sucks. This weekend was insanely busy. Working with a retarded 50-something-year-old 'Nam vet and Chris Jones is quite the adventure.

So, I went to my grandparents' to see my mom Sunday night and my uncle just so happened to be over there too. My uncle is probably the person in my family I can relate to the most, I think mainly because he knows what it's like to be a broke musician. But anyway, he gave me two passes to Camp Reggae over in, of all places, Turtle Town, Tennessee. The passes were supposed to be 80 bucks a pop, but a friend of his was DJing at the thing and he got them for free. I wound up not going, though. I couldn't find anyone to go with. Usually I'd just say "screw it," go by myself, and scalp the extra ticket, which I frequently find myself doing, but, as you may know, I'm driving my grandparents' car right now while mine is being painted. It's a beast. Something's wrong with it and it gets like...9 miles to the gallon. Ouch. It's not very reliable either. So yea. I wound up not going, which is sort of a bummer, but I'm not really devastated because I'm not a huge reggae fan. But still.

There, however, is good news. My other (dad's side) grandmother appears to be shaping up. She was recently diagnosed with end-stage COPD, which is severe emphysema, and up until this week would just lie down and kind of squeak out words. Now she is sitting up more and speaking with her normal, strong voice. She's still a bit shaky, but the nurses are saying her lungs are clean and it seems as if she is getting better which is always a good sight to see.

I am one tired kid. Have a day.