Today I got a new purse and there were 16 silica gel packs inside it.

I ate three and gave one to my dog.

Last night I got a whole bunch of free musics from daytrotter.com. It was tight, and they are good musics. I got girzzly bear, rafter, peter and the wolf, and alela diane so far. I have been wanting to listen to peter and the wolf forever, but someone from whom I get all my music does not have any peter and the wolf. yeah, get on it, thanks. So I had to go to great lengths to get these free downloads; there were at least ten clicks involved, and frankly, my finger is tired. However, I really like these four songs! I am excited to hear their actual albums someday. And as for the others, they are good, but I already knew that.

I know that I spelled grizzly wrong but I decided it's funner this way. Like giirrrrlzzy bear. I dunno. Fun.

Ok, so who has read a heartbreaking work of staggering genius? It isn't really like I expected it to be at all, and once I am done I would like to talk about it with someone. I mean what exactly is he doing here? He kind of doesn't even allow you to have an opinion on it. He's just written it and he makes it pretty clear that he's writtwen it for himself, some kind of purging/coming to terms thing. And yet it's so widely read, nominated for the pullitzer prize, etc. Did he just get insanely lucky with this? And this whole thing he does where he's metacognitive to the point of complete chaos-- is this where writing is going? Is that too easy? Is easy bad? Is complete chaos of thought somehow more honest than trying to figure out some kind of answer?

Few writers make me think as much as Dave Eggers does. And I find that a little bit ironic, which makes me feel like a jerk because it means I don't take him seriously for some reason. Why don't I take him seriously? If I told you my guess, would that make me even more of a jerk? I think it would. For once I will hold back.

Gotta get dressed, the relatives are here!

Summer: Week One Highlights

- kind of almost getting a job with very little effort
- gilmore girls, season two (lowlight: end of gilmore girls, season two)
- lying on the grass at the absolute most perfect time of day, listening to robert/whitfield play the guitar
- driving an hour to go to Sonic (at sunset)/ordering through awesome speaker thing/foot long chili dog
- sitting on a dock in relative silence for a very long time, and the things that go along with that, such as, but not limited to, water, reflections, rowboats, sweaters, all you need is love
- free iced tea at the bucks
- dennys dennys dennys

sarah jessica, you're my hero!

worst moving day ever so far in college!

I am so tired.

I am so glad that's over.

I am so ready for some nonstop DVD marathons and pool floating.

I am so about to eat a lot of candy.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I wish I was smaller, a little creepy crawler

Ah, my last shift at the film and video reserves, just how I like it: boring and lonely. I am closing by myself tonight, and there have been about 10 people in here total since I arrived. What a fitting end. I can't really decide how I feel about this job overall. It was pretty good money, not at all difficult, and conducive to being a student who has a lot of homework and lives on campus. However, I think there is something to be said for challenging oneself, even in the context of shitty part time jobs. Ask me again this summer when I have a job that involves standing on my feet and actually dealing with people, and see what I see then. I have a feeling it might be very different, but alas, the grass is always greener on the other side.

I hope nobody takes this personally, because it's not at all, but I am really not looking forward to the pilgrimage home on saturday. It's just that the idea of spending the entire summer in Fontana makes me feel very very numb, which is one of my least favorite feelings. Also, I have yet to seriously think about what I'm going to do for work. Oh, death.

I got through finals by the skin of my teeth, planning only a few hours at a time and finishing everything at the very last minute. Thank goodness this was such a chill quarter, or things may have gotten really ugly.

I am currently reading my fiction teacher's novel, Madeline is Sleeping. I don't know. I think I came into it not wanting to like it for some reason, and now I am still waiting to be convinced. It would help, I think, if I had some idea what the hell is going on with the plot. The thing is though that now I want to like it, since my teacher likes me, and I want to feel really great about that. It's just that I think I may have screwed myself over by starting the book with a bad attitude. Or maybe it's just not my style, I don't know. It's not salinger, that's for sure. Thank God they don't teach too much salinger in school. I don't want them to ruin it for me, ever. I refuse to let them ruin salinger for me! never!

This has been long. Back to online videos/myspace/facebook/sufjan stalking/ipod/madeline is sleeping/solitarie


p.s.- do any of my compulsive-blog-checking roommates want to go to cotixans tonight?

I bought a lava lamp.

Who wants to go to Wilco at the Greek Theater on August 29th?

Besides me, of course.

Ok, so yesterday was insane. But the final went well, and I was surprisingly fluent after not really having to talk in German all quarter.

Congrats to my siblings for graduating from their respective schools. Nice hustle.

Now that I'm in the home stretch of finals, I have moved on to dreading the move-out process, and also just leaving san diego in general, which will suck despite all my fernweh.

Must go finish story about awkward oregon trail boy.

This will be my only complaining blog this week, I swear. I just feel that it's worth noting how much of an idiot I have been being these past few days, and especially yesterday, which I spent watching TV and attending a "chapbook party" where absolutely no chapbooks whatsoever were created. So I was up til like 6 in the morning doing the chapbook for real, and now I have to somehow manage the four hours of driving necessary to attend my sister's graduation this evening on only two hours of sleep! Also finish preparing for my german final which is at 8AM tomorrow. Oooohhhhh boy, what have I gotten myself into?

And the real kicker is that I forgot to bring my german book to work with me, so during the only time I could actually be working on the final, I am instead about to go check my facebook for about the 15th time today. Go team Mandy!

also: that german dude from Goodbye Lenin is pretty freaking attractive!

coffee I need coffee SOMEONE GET ME SOME COFFEE

I am a published author

so far, one (count em, one) copy of one chapbook. this one's gonna be worth the big bucks.

My Weekend

Friday: pain.bed.mercado.bed.cheeseburger.homework.pain.

Saturday: drive.josh.burrito.nap.cheeseburger.homework.josh.homework.

Sunday: sunburn.grandparents.enchiladas.flautas.taquitos.burritos.guacamole.guacamole.guacamole.drive.guacamole.

party in a box!!

Sitting in Class

I will tap out a minor chord with mallets
on the ascending notes of your vertebrae,

construct bagpipes of your lungs,
squeeze out the notes I want to hear,

play a sonata on the strings of your DNA,
and retune your code until
you love me as much as I love this song.

ooooooooowwwwww

are you writing from the heart?
are you writing from the heart?

I am good at german now

So I translated this bad boy all by myself. They say you can only translate something well if you actually like it, so I picked this. It reminds me a lot of "Why You'd Want to Live Here" by Death Cab, and "Los Angeles, I'm Yours" by the Decemberists, both of which I really like. For some reason I am attracted to these things that bash LA, but not because I hate LA. I think I love LA because of how much it sucks, in a way. It's like, for real. Anyway this is the poem in translation, and I'm actually pretty proud of it!

(oh yeah, the background is that this guy brecht was exiled from germany during the nazi era and relocated in santa monica for a while with a bunch of other german artists who apparently all hated on LA together!)

Thinking About Hell
by Bertold Brecht

Thinking, so I hear, about Hell,
My brother Shelley found it to be a place
Roughly similar to London. I
Who do not live in London, but in Los Angeles
Find, thinking about Hell, that it must be
Even more like Los Angeles.

Even in Hell
There are, I don’t doubt, these luxuriant gardens
With flowers as big as trees, admittedly wilted
Without delay if not watered by very expensive water.
And fruit markets
With entire heaps of fruit that nonetheless
Have neither scent nor flavor. And endless trains of cars
Lighter than their own shadows, quicker than
Foolish thoughts, shimmering vehicles, in which
Rosy people, who come from nowhere, go nowhere.
And houses, because they’re built for the happy, stand empty
Even when occupied.

Even the houses in Hell are not all ugly.
But the worry of being thrown out on the street
Consumes the inhabitants of the villas no less than
The inhabitants of the barracks.

I learned my lesson tonight, and I am never going to the doctor again! I had to wait like two hours just to get a douchebag leg brace and some douchebag crutches! llllllame. never again, I tell you. never again.

summer to do list:

- make chapbook
- construct longboard (skate, not surf), or at least decorate in ridiculous/artsy fashion
- learn to ride longboard
- go on roadtrip to somewhere either actually cool or so lame it's cool
- visit san deigo (lots)
- visit berkeley (maybe)
- manage to save money despite these plans


to be continued

Last night was so sureal. The fire alarm went off what felt like about 10 times but in all likelihood was many more. Diden't sleep for more than a half an hour at a time, but was so tired I would only wake up for a few seconds, be incredibly disoriented, and then fall back asleep. Was offered a hotel room at some point, turned it down. Come morning there were loud strangers in my room; only saw them for a few seconds as well before the eyes shut. When my actual alarm went off at 11:00 for class, I turned it off as quick as I could, thinking to myself that I never want to hear an alarm again in my entire life. Unfortunately I had set another one for 11:30.

by the way, there was no fire, in case you were still wondering.

On the dark side, my friend

I wonder how long it will take Anu to notice I have this song on repeat.

I am totally obsessed with this blogotheque website, like woah. Those videos are amazing. I haven't watched them all, but so far I especially recommend the national, the arcade fire, grizzly bear, and sufjan, of course. I can't even tell you how beautiful these movies are. You have to see for yourself! I also highly enjoyed this little bit of insight:

I never thought I would be able to film Sufjan. I tried my chance one time before but the good man needs his time, a kind of slow accession into a calm moment of rare revelation. And so it was no surprise that 10 minutes before filming him, he kind a freaked out, saying, with fleeing and frightened eyes like an animal being hunted « No, no, I don’t want to be filmed anymore, leave me be. »

Let us ignore the awkward translation and focus mainly on how badly we want to give Sufjan a hug, shall we?

In other news, tonight I did some grafiti in the mandeville staircase. I ruined my UCSD sweatshirt, but it was so worth it. OK, it may not have been worth it, but it was fun!

like the way you dig sunsets, pony. that's gold.