smooth

i'm sitting at my mom's house. i felt like writing. there are lots of new stories and strands in my head. something said that i need to write a little. maybe too many strands in the ole duder's head. maybe that is the problem: there are usually too few strands in my head.

++break for station identification++
ahhhhhh. the cool smooth contours of the keyboard are like an eagle spreading its wings. i've been without my computer for seven days and i felt awkward the entire week. i imagine this is what a nascar driver feels when he peels out of a pit stop. sure, he had tires before, but they were faded and dull. unresponsive to his wheel. so too was my week. computers were slow, impersonal and severely unresponsive. (granted the exception of WAR, which was exceptional). now that i have a new set of tires, my familiar A-game, the laces to my shoe, now i feel much better. just "sitting at my mom's house" to type would have been out of the question last week. the smooth keys are clean and illuminated in a room that looks like Velasco, but isn't*.
++end station identification++

too many strands indeed. i thought my current life plan would simplify things. ok, i didn't really think that. i've learned enough to know that nothing will simplify 'things' to a degree where i say: "damn. things are simple. this is that and that is this and love is good and this girl thinks that and this money is here and this desire is, not only reachable, but on this shelf and to the left**." who would think that? not me. ha. what a newb you are if you think that's what i was thinking.

i had a great night. a good drive, a good talk with an old friend. mostly about her, but it felt good to listen. i made sure i was a good listener. when someone doesn't want to hear my shit, i need to be a good listener. that is what a friend would do.

my core is the same.
i tried typing that out in a lot of ways but none of it made sense. i'm still the same. as much as i've tried to change- i still have the same core values. lately there are some values that i've been happy to see! some parts of my personality are super bad ass and they've come to the fore recently. that has made me feel good. some parts i think i need to accept. and stop trying to change. i need to stop trying to change them. because: i can only effect the beginning stages of said core value. i can't effect any change on the triggers or the end results of that value. here's a thought: maybe .... shit. i lost it. 10 minutes reading the last line over and over and i don't remember where i was going with it. i shouldn't have typed "here's a thought".
something about not being in control***.

****instead of rambling on i'll leave you dear internets with this final thought:
"i just kissed my track pad and i miss Malcolm sooo much."*****






*i feel like a kid here. but then i remember that kids are not burdened with stress and girl problems.
**this metaphor brought to you by The Victory '08 Campaign
***note to self: do not stop for introductory words. or any words. if you have a great idea that is unique to you and your situation- just fucking type it out.
****fuck. i just remembered that i didn't get a receipt for the gas or the +horrible+ KFC i got on the way here. i'll have to make sure and get the numbers from my bank account. first receipts that i haven't kept since The Great Realization
*****nope. i'm not drunk at all. seriously. not at all. like 3 beers in the last 3 hours. and i was at a keg party! i'm just that in love with this keyboard and Malcolm. judge not, lest ye be judged.

Sam

still hard to talk or write about Sam. i've constantly been with friends and family, so that has been good. my body feels strangely good considering that we've been either drunk or eating this entire week. i haven't seen much of my ultimate friends because they weren't very close to Sam, but i feel bad because they are close to me. i hope they know that as much as i love them, i need to be with my Upton* friends right now.

Sam's family has been really amazing. i don't know how i would react to losing someone in my family to a suicide, but i'm sure i would be more of a wreck than his mom and dad and his brother.

the hardest thing i've ever had to do is clean and pack up Sam's room. i got together at about 7 with my sister's boyfriend and a friend's mom (who is a nurse and had some supplies) went in alone and somberly cleaned up and removed carpet. we boxed all of his things for his family to claim. i'm proud that i was able to clean his room, like his parents wanted, and i know that a lot of people didn't want to do it. but i'm not sure i'll ever be able to really put that behind me. mike and brian saw him in his room, and i'm sure that what i did is nothing compared to that, but fuck i can't stop thinking about it and getting sad. before you worry about me too much, just know that every other thought of Sam makes me really happy to have known him. i always think of him smiling and talking. which is odd. because most people never heard him talk. or, at least all they saw was his stoic japanese facade.

one night we all (about 30 peeps) went to the front yard of Upton and passed a bottle of Jameson around and said something about Sam, what he meant to us and how he was so important. then we took a swig and poured one out for Sam**. that was nice, and very UU.

things of Sam's that i've taken for myself:
- Sam's green windmill shirts. In his very lengthy note, he gave many things to many people. i am proud to be on that list. this is what he said to me.

"Sean Bibby, I see you have found something you greatly enjoy, do not despair when we are gone, make a life for yourself and work to live, do not live to work. The green windmill shirt is yours, I know you liked it."

i don't know what he meant by "something you greatly enjoy". maybe my new girlfriend, certainly he knew how happy that made me. maybe he meant my job. maybe he knew about how much i'm looking forward to traveling. i don't know and i never will. i have the shirt. i plan on making a tattoo out of the design and then framing the shirt to pass down to my children.
- the knife i used to cut up the carpet
- his a Gundam figure that has yet to be assembled. (Geof Custom)
- a set of Resident Evil books that we're all going to read and pass around
- his guns. i'm just holding onto them for other people. as far as i know. his parents might want them destroyed. the gun he killed himself with has been destroyed. he was not a gun nut. he respected guns. his dad and i talked for a while about his japanese-ness and how the guns were his samurai swords. you had to know Sam to know how he related to his guns.
- his Half-Life cd and some other games that we both loved
- more? i'm not sure. some of his things i have in my car and i can't take them in yet. i don't want too many of his things to be in my room at once.

i'm ok. tonight is another night of hanging out with friends, but more importantly, my girlfriend is getting home from a 5 day trip to her brother's wedding in california. she should be in at 1ish and i should be waiting for her. it has been hard with her not here, but there have been plenty of friends to make up for it. dru especially. he came down that day and didn't leave. seeing him and having to be at work on friday really made me realize how much i need to travel. that's why i started this blog in the first place. so i'd be adept at blogging when i'm in X country, letting my family and friends know what i'm up to. dru and i talked a lot about how we are dissapointed with ourselves for having jobs and doing the default post college thing. well that is a post for another day i guess.

i miss you Sam.

Tsutomu.



*the house where Sam lived, along with mabeuf (years ago) and dru (years ago) and mike and so many other people that are mourning Sam. Upton is a noun, a verb and a passion. a passion that is now gone forever. no one who has ever lived there is ever going to live there again. no more rock star parties, or daft punk parties, hobo parties, mabeufapaloozas, or zombie jesus parties.
**i drank Sam's for him. he would have wanted that i think.

for the (2) people who wanted to know

oast

i know a girl. we cooked asparagus. well we didn't really end up doing it. but we wanted to.

i typed in "asparagus recipes"

and she said that we "should roast them"

without me even ranting about computer efficiency she scooted me over and took the mouse and highlighted the word "recipes" up tot he "r" and then typed in "oast".


wow. smitten. that's hotter than a Bond chick.

we did broccoli instead. or should i say "roccoli"?

i'm down 12 pts for the year

an e-mail/call/msg that i should make.

"
i saw the eye rolling that happened when ya'll saw me see you walk in.
if your friend can't be cool with the events of the past, then i'm just not going to say hi to you, or her, anymore.
i want to be friends with both of you. i wasn't lying when i said that i thought about both of you today. we could be good friends. but i don't see how that is possible with her attitude-on-her-sleeve type style.
"

i mean seriously. what the fuck? if this shit continues i'm going to move to DC.
quit and move to fucking DC.

default

so i bought that new phone. i'm pretty happy with it.

now girls will like me!