Tonight marks my solo debut at Kafein's Monday night open mic, and I want to have a fanbase there to cheer for me even when I screw up. So please do come and listen to many talented artists over some delicious coffee, tea, or whatever floats your boat. That's tonight at Kafein, 8:30, and if you can't make it, then I'll be there again next week, more than likely.

Yesterday, I took the Metra into the city, hopped the Lake Shore Limited (but not before getting half of my dinner stolen), and spent 24 hours on a single train. Don't try this at home, kids. Or anywhere else, for that matter. I had come armed only with my iPod, a deck of cards, a book I've read several times before, and my notebook. I had promised myself that I would start and complete an entire new song, which I accomplished readily, along with a couple pages of prose and a few more song ideas, mainly because I had nothing better to do. Fortunately, I was joined at Toledo (at about 1:30am) by an intelligent, open, and not unaattractive young woman named Shawnecy. She was off to see her fiancé in Framingham, so we had 15 or 16 hours to give our life stories and debate about religion, politics, gay marriage, the death penalty, and other such controversial topics. I finally arrived in Boston, where I was warmly greeted by Steve and Sage and Checkers (especially Checkers) with fresh pizza and a movie (Mystic River, which I hadn't seen. I quite liked it, but had some issues with the ending). I write this now from Steve's iBook while I wait for Dad, Pippa, and Bea to make their way over from Nantucket, so that we can all make the long haul home (after the dogs have a chance to get aquainted, I'm sure).

Just a list of some of the special people I spent the weekend with and the songs that make me think of them (and vice versa):

Heather, recently ordained to the priesthood! Yay Heather!: "Light My Candle", Adam Paschal and Daphne Rubin-Vega.

Jane, Bruce, CJ, and Kyle, the Hoosier branch of my bizarre family: "Soap, Soup and Salvation", "Weapon of Choice", Fatboy Slim; Lone Justice; "Frustrated Unnoticed", Damone; and "Dream Operator", Talking Heads, respectively.

Susie and Luke, My "cool aunt" and her ping-pong fiend husband: "Shame On You", Indigo Girls; and "I Just Wanna Be Your Steve McQueen", Eytan Mirsky.

Mark, whose genetic breeding experiment went sadly awry: "Slither", Velvet Revolver.

Tripp and Trish (Congratulations, you two! ~_^): "Long Black Veil", Tripp Hudgins; and "Edge of 17", Stevie Nicks (Kinda inappropriate, I know, Tripp, but it WAS beautiful).

Micah... I honestly can't find the words: "I am Downright Amazed at What I Can Destroy With Just a Hammer", Atom & His Package.

Tonight I feel royally screwed up. There's an extreme bittersweet blend in my heart and my head, and I can't tell from one moment to the next which feeling is dominant. I spent the evening out in downtown Chicago, with the intention to see Roman Holiday in Grant Park, but weather conditions were not favorable, so instead we got pizza at Due's and saw Garden State, which is easily the best movie I have seen in a very very long time. The bitterness is, I have to say goodbye to a very dear friend. I've known Seth since the first day I moved here, and his outgoing, goofy, lovable personality has been a perpetual magnet.

I'm gonna miss you, dude. Who am I gonna sing La Vie Boheme with now?

You may have thought the worst had come when I reported getting my driver's license. But I have taken another step to make myself a wheeled menace to myself and others on the streets. Yes, I have acquired a skateboard. A good friend of mine wanted to get rid of it, as he's moving, so I took it off his hands, fixed it up a bit, and am now in the process of learning how to make it move without falling off. Whee!

And when you sleep you find your mother in the night
But she stays just out of sight
So there isn't any sweetness in the dreaming
And when you wake the morning showers you with light
And it makes you feel alright
But it's just the same hard candy
You're remembering again

Miss you, Mom.

(Lyrics courtesy of Counting Crows)

Here's a lttle something I started writing at Frisbee camp, for your edification.

Here I am, sitting on a park bench, every muscle crying in silent protest, watching the sun set over graffiti-covered dormitories. There's a kind of satisfaction, as if the rays beating down hear and recognize my body's tears, and acknowledge my well-earned right to rest, relaxation, and peace. The others-- (Here I left to go play a round of disc golf)

Today's another grey icky day, but without the perkiness I had last time. Looks like a good day to lie back, turn on some Dar WIlliams, and read a book (or three).

Especially after my disappointment that Thunderbirds was being turned into a live-action movie with an altered story, a crappy plot, and bad acting (except for Ben Kingsley, the one person cast appropriately), this comes as a welcome distraction, and one that looks to be good for lots of jabs at the state of the world and some good old-fashioned inappropriate humor.

It's all grey and gloomy outside, and yet I woke up this morning with a very persistent good mood that's decided to stick around. ^_^

Tunes: "Spin," Lifehouse (iTMS); "Good Vibrations," The Beach Boys "Wherever You WIll Go," The Calling. (iTMS)

I call out the names of the winds, the rains, the trees and the grasses, the birds in the sky and the fish in the sea, the stars and planets and everything in between.

Hear my call.

I mourn every loss, every felled tree, every fallen star, every broken egg, every stillborn child, every creature lying dead upon the ground.

Hear me weep.

I celebrate with the birth and rebirth of the world, for every opening flower's bud, for every hatched chick, for every litter of whelps, for every newborn baby's first cry, for every new light in the vast sky.

Hear my joy.

I have to write half of a paper by 8:00 tomorrow night, and I'm working 9-5 tomorrow. Woohoo. As I write, music wavers from my speakers, and a line floated out that always reminds me how much my parents mean to me and how much they care for me:

There was a time I asked my father for a dollar
And he gave me a ten dollar raise
When I needed my mother and I called her
She stayed with me for days

"Prince of Darkness", Indigo Girls

This post will be assembled in the form of thoughts as they cross my mind, so just bear with me.

•Ow.
•I'm in better shape than I ever have been before.
•Ultimate players are some of the coolest people on the planet.
•Ow.

And now, it's time for... random inside jokes!!!

•Tiina Booth is god. She is everywhere.
•Stevie and his adventures in Alaska.
•Bob Wang (Need I say more?).
•The SuperCamp cheers during meals.
•Pretty much anything from Talent Show night.
•Everybody now! Myyyyyyy sister's got a boyfriend...

Lots of love to all of you, you guys rock. Go Fungi!!!

The conversation about what I'm doing this upcoming wek tends to go something like this:

Me: I'm going to camp.

Person I'm Talking To (who shall hereafter be referred to as Brad, on account of the acronym): Oh, really? What kind of camp?

Me: Frisbee.

Brad: *chokes back laughter* Frisbee???

Me: Yes. Frisbee.

Brad: Well, that should be fun. *pause* They have a camp for that?

Well, Brad, I wouldn't be going there if it didn't exist, well would I? Anyway, I am off to the one and only National Ultimate Training Camp, where I will run my behind off and play a LOT of Frisbee. As such, I won't be posting until next Thursday. I know, weird schedule, right? But camp ends then, and I arrive home that night, so yeah. Anyway, I want to leave you with a bizarre and amusing meme:

Si is a Banana-Eating Kung-Fu Monkey ...with a Battle Rating of 8.2 To see if your Food-Eating Battle Monkey can defeat Si, enter your name:

Gotta love monkeys.

Tunes: "Roses", Outkast; "The Saddest Song", The Ataris; and "Master of Puppets", Metallica.

I really really want this shirt.

I've been writing a research paper for a seminar that I've been attending. Now, expository writing is not my forte, but it's a good course with a great teacher and it's something I need practice doing. However, I've been doing my writing in Okito Composer, which is a slightly dated beta word processor that never came to fruition, as before the final product could be completed, the company got bought out by Nisus. Composer has served me well for quite some time, but it has apparently reached the end of its cooperative rope, and has developed a nasty habit of working fine until I've written a fair-sized paragraph or so, and then crashing as soon as I try to save. For the time being I am continuing the project in Appleworks, but am keeping my eyes open for a user-intuitive, free, and aqua-native word processor to keep me going. That aside, I'm on the high end of a mood swing, and am riding it for all that it's worth. ^_^

For lack of something meaningful to say, I'm posting scraps of incomplete lyrics amd poems I've composed over the last few years. Maybe this'll give me some motivation to do something with them. our cups arent half empty or even half full there was never anything in them to begin so we stack them together like childrens toys but theres still space inside _________________________ as long as she's not there i can go on with my life i can dream without her always in my mind but when i see her, feel her prescence near she fills my every sense with bliss _________________________ nothing is quite what it seems floating in my lucid dream everything does what i say and all my cares just fly away _________________________ celestial showers pouring cascades warm as blood small drops fall impacting craters in the ground

Before I get to rambling, I have two dedications to make. First, many thanks to Marilyn and Ross for putting up with four teenage boys for a week. There are not many people who are that brave and patient. Secondly, congratulations and best wishes to Neil and Roseann Harris. God bless. Now, to the rambling. Things I love about Canada: •Milk in a bag. Too cool. •FiveAlive juice. And no, the five fruits are NOT apple, cheese, broccoli, pimentos, and piglets. •Tim Horton's. Like Dunkin' Donuts, but so much better. •Poutine. Instant heart attack. •Toonies. Practical, and you can make all sorts of animals on the back. •It's just plain beautiful country, eh? I had loads of fun with my friends at the Scavuzzo's cottage up on Clearwater Lake. Lots of cards, swimming, tubing, and various random antics at the drop of a hat. Toronto seemed to me to reflect Chicago, but less cramped, cleaner, and much more comfortable and laid back. Niagara Falls is a stunning sight, and well worth a visit if you get the chance. And now I have to crash, because I started the day in Washego, OT, and am now in Evanston, IL. It's been a long day.

In approximately 60 hours, my friends and I will be headed for the Great North, to spend a week outside Accordion City. In celebration, I would like to post some lyrics of which I am rather fond: Welcome to Canada, It's the Maple Leaf State. Canada, oh Canada it's great! The people are nice and they speak French too. If you don't like it, man, you sniff glue. The Great White North, their kilts are plaid, Hosers take off, it's not half bad. I want to be where yaks can run free, Where Royal Mounties can arrest me. Let's go to Canada, Let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait. They've got trees, And mooses, and sled dogs, Lots of lumber, and lumberjacks, and logs! We all think it's kind of a drag, That you have to go there to get milk in a bag. They say "eh?" instead of "what?" or "duh?" That's the mighty power of Canada! I want to be where lemmings run into the sea, Where the marmosets can attack me. Let's go to Canada, Let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait. Let's go to Canada, Let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait. Please, please, explain to me, How this all has come to be, We forgot to mention something here. Did we say that William Shatner is a native citizen? And Slurpees made from venison, That's deer. Let's go to Canada, Let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait. Let's go to Canada, Let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait. "Oh, Canada", Five Iron Frenzy.

My dad puts up with a lot of crap for and from me.

My dad has always respected my opinion-- even if he goes on to show me how I am totally wrong.

My dad has what my friends refer to as "The Voice of God". It is used in three situations: a) When he wants to be heard, b) when he's preaching, and c) when he's laughing. I can recognize that laugh from anywhere.

My dad has two wardrobes: One for work, with suits and clericals, and the other for the off-hours, with worn jeans and t-shirts advocating socialism and equality of sexuality.

My dad has a killer blog. (Need I say more?)

My dad's music collection is approximately seven times larger than mine.

My dad is the only guy I know who calls his son "Dude".

My dad has always been there for me.

Quite a fun concert, with excellent performances on both Ben's and Rufus' parts. Thanks to Dan, Sherri, Justin, Hilary, Timmy, Elizabeth, and Julie for making our little picnic loads of fun.

Rufus Wainwright and Ben Folds, tonight at Ravinia. I'm gonna be there. Life is sweet.

I woke up this morning, and felt a compelling need to listen to John Rutter's arrangement of "For The Beauty Of The Earth." I can only imagine that it had something to do with my dream, because I haven't thought of that song for ages. It would help if I could remember my dream, though. Maybe I should stop eating pizza as my late night meal.

I'd intended to write up a large post about the play this morning, but somehow it doesn't seem quite right, so I will be brief and concise. We did a fabulous job. I am immensely proud of and thankful to everyone involved. I'm grateful to everyone who came, especially those who came on extremely short notice. I'm going to miss this over the summer. Even more so, I'm going to miss the cast members who are leaving next year: Carli, Tyler, Grace, and possibly John. Tunes (Yes, they're back!): "Oh! You Pretty Things", David Bowie (iTMS); "Ain't No Mountain High Enough", Marvin Gaye & Tammy Terrell (iTMS); "Mary Jane's Last Dance", Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers (iTMS).

Sorry, all. I only just last night realized that my site was set up not to accept anonymous reader comments. That has been remedied, and you are now free to belittle me as you have in prior posts.

On a friend's recommendation, I downloaded (legally) the soundtrack to Avenue Q, and it has immediately rocketed to a place on my top five musical of all time. The irreverent yet wise blending of elements from Sesame Street and Rent is hilarious, touching, understandable, and fun for not quite the whole family. Puppets, people, and Gary Cooper all share in the delivery of amusing looks at society ("If You Were Gay," Everyone's A Little Bit Racist," "Schadenfruede"), touching reflections on relationships ("Mix Tape," "There's A Fine, Fine Line," "The More You You Ruv Someone"), not-quite-so-touching takes on sex ("The Internet Is For Porn," "Special," "You Can Be As Loud As The Hell You Want To (When You're Making Love)"), and quirky thoughts on why we're here ("What Do You Do With A B.A. In English," "Purpose," "For Now"). One of my favorites is a song which carries a friendly kick in the rump for when you need it the most: "There Is Life Outside Your Apartment."

Summer has struck hard, with the sort of oppressive muggy heat that saps your energy and leaves you in a state of near-entropy. I myself would like nothing more than to be able to sit in a tub of ice water for the day, a la "Body Heat" (maybe without Kathleen Turner, although I can think of one or two acceptable replacements), but since I have things that need to get done, I content myself with taking work in small increments and listening to Tom Petty b-sides in between. [Edit] Of course, right after I wrote this, a nice cool breeze picked up outside, making most of what I wrote fairly redundant. Oh well.

...Whatever you want to call it, this is the week before the Big Show, which means four-hour rehearsals every day, in full costume. It's gonna be a long week.

Someone (who I am now convinced is a member of my karass) just came back into my life, and while this is a good thing, the timing involved on scares me on a few different levels. There are just a couple too many "coincidences" for me to be completely comfortable. I'm not saying that there's some sort of huge plot, just that the specifics match up bizarrely well.

I am insecure. I feel depressed. My suburn is peeling, I feel grotesque. I sit listening to dark sad music by artists such as Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, The Talking Heads, Depeche Mode, Moxy Früvous, Stone Sour, and Everclear. I lie in my bed, reading select passages from High Fidelity and I leave my glasses off. I fester in my own discomfort, because I haven't got the energy to change.