a month later

someone posts something else.

...this past month has been a comedy of errors, hot then icy, and every once in a while - particularly recently - angsty in the most annoying mild way. good for laughs, good for storytelling, and good for a tear or two. for this post, i guess what i am thinking about the most right this moment is that some of the company i keep here in houston probably are bad for me. does anyone else have junk food friends? i sometimes see it from the outside and grow terribly sad.

what happens to self-esteem? does it exist, and where?
why is it that certain kinds of people seem to enjoy you more, or tolerate you more, the less you give a shit? it's bizarre, even if its kind of understandable. but i can't explain it.
for the time being i distract myself with my cafe job, comforted by my craigslist miracle roommate, and this:

http://www.loganbeck.com/Matchbox/Upcoming_at_Matchbox.html

this friday i'm going to be in a joint art exhibition featuring drawings by me and my friend Alma. i'm incredibly inspired by the drawings she does, and the show- which is being organized by our mutual friend Logan (whoisloganbeck.com) - will be displayed "refrigerator style". flat thumbtacks will be stuck into the wall and magnets will hold the drawings up by sticking to the tacks through the paper. the idea is to show drawings in the style of those we have scribbled onto little scraps of paper, or notebooks...random artifacts that can be dug up and remembered after being lost in last semester or at the bottom of your bag. there's going to be some newer stuff made with this show in mind, and more formally realised, but i guess still adhering to this idea of stuff you stick on your fridge for visitors to see. like a little kid.

i left a lot of it to the last minute, but i'm pretty excited about it. i'll let you all know how it goes.
i'm tired of being sorta sad, more often than not. but, i guess i can ride it out, right?

the official date for my return to LA is December 15th.

- melody

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speaking of bike crashes

The other night I hit the front of a parked car and flew up onto the sidewalk and proceeded to scrap my leg up, and mess up something inside my back and my left arm pretty bad. I don't want to over-exaggerate, but I'll just say that if I had health insurance at this time in my life, then I actually would've gone to the doctor, because my arm was all fucked up. Despite the stupid number of bad bike crashes I've been in, with exception of the time I had to get rushed to the hospital for staples in my head, I've never felt like going to the doctor. Maybe I'm getting older or maybe my body breaks easier. Good news though, because after five days or so, I regained (almost) a full range of motion in my arm. It still hurts like hell, but I feel confident that I didn't break anything now. The craziest part is that my elbow bone on my left sticks out even more than it did after I fell on it at Chaos in Tejas two years ago. My back also still hurts a lot, but I'm sure that will go away after a while.
So you're probably wondering how I crashed into the front of a parked car. Drunk? Yeah, but that wasn't the reason. I was trying to practice riding my bike with no hands . . . and with my eyes closed.
I'm a fucking idiot.

-willie

ps. i miss anyone who checks this, although i suspect that it isn't very many people. also, there's going to be a really awesome halloween show at miguel's house this saturday. reuben, tommy, him, and i are playing as the ramones. our friends ghost porn (formerly blackshirts) are playing as the cramps. some crappy christian folk band is playing as the cure. my friends preston and kenny hall are playing as the temptations/ja rule. dismiscrowave is coming up and playing as the dead milkmen. and possibly my friends steph and zach who live in long beach are playing as kiss. everyone is invited!
also, melody, when are you coming back to california?!

ya never know. i certainly did not.

i even knew the turn into the parking lot would be slippery, but i fell on my right side anyway. my hip and right pant leg are covered in muddy gravel. pretty lucky there wasn't any car behind me. so, yeah, everyone be safe on their bicycles, because even when we are being safe, we aren't. the end.

texas misses california, ok byyeeee - mel

God's not a woman, he's a bitch.

Nothing about it is beautiful. God separated the waters from the firmament and confounded our tongues, prostrating our humanity before the indifferent godhead. Evil exists and it is indivisible. Its sinewy essence is inarticulate, making its living in ambiguity and through the hands of poetic charlatans. It excites the lazy mind and tailors well-rehearsed lies to fit any insecurity. The singularity of its breath makes it easy to recognize once one becomes accustomed to the stench. It loves to make unsupported claims about our existence and the celestial bodies. It embroiders art, math, and the sciences with its polysemousness. Objectivity is a human invention and the most remarkable one so far. Lucidity and Reason are at war with relativism, and it is a dubious battle.

if you haven't already seen it.

http://www.livevideo.com/video/shane1lucky/085A6461740A4AE099D1F9BA3E24301C/shane-sings-up-the-scale-5-oct.aspx

why isn't anyone posting?
why is houston in the 90s outside?
why are my legs covered in bruises all the time?
why does my throat hurt?
why so many questions?
why aren't you dying of laughter yet, you should have clicked on the link like five seconds ago???

why do i miss california so much?

love, mel - the end.

a bad dream

i dreamt last night that my brother had died.

we were swimming in the ocean near the shore(this is actually the second ocean-related dream i've had with Chris), and it was getting dark as we were swimming toward these people. it became a queue, and as we weaved through the line, we noticed sharks sneaking up and snatching people from below, but in a silent and stealthy way, like moray eels just popping up and grabbing before retracting to the deeper water. we were reaching the destination (?) without noticing any commotion, when my brother was grabbed. we both tried kicking at the shark's gills, and he was dragged away but there was no sure way of telling whether or not he made it.

so i find myself in this building on the water, old wood everywhere, imagine like a cross between a small library and a hotel check-in counter where i went to inquire about Chris. there was a list of survivors and a list of wounded, as well as a list of the deceased. for some reason i had all this hope and confidence because as i was asking the woman (an asian woman), she had the first list showing, on one side of a sheet of paper.
but, as she checked for his name - much in the way a librarian might look through a catalog listing, as in, without any particular solemnity - she turns the sheet over and says i was mistaken, and that my brother was listed among the dead. what followed was pretty awful, i fell to my knees, and was so sad - and promptly woke up and was freaked out for the first ten minutes of my day.

LETS PLAY SOME VOLLEYBALL