Today, I suppose, is one of those thinking days.

I have yet to accomplish anything I am proud of, excluding Joanna's birthday present, which just so happened to be a major success, and the highlight of the month of April, no matter when her birthday was.

I still feel as if my life is at a stand still. A teenage stand still-which is a sluggish lifestyle that becomes "un-stood-stuck" the first day of summer. That's what I'm waiting for, more reading, more writing, more filming, more people, more postcards, more genuine smiles, more late nights, more early mornings, more loud music, more sand between my toes, less worries, less cares, less sighs, less wasted times, less unfortunate weather.

This is all, of course, taking place in Michigan (more or less, pun). Except for a week in Texas which I may, or may not, be in Dallas for a wedding and two birthdays.

And I am very excited! Very excited to achieve something that I will be proud of. I have no idea what it will be, but I am anxious to try and find out.

I am energetic, I am optimistic, I am hopeful, and I will end with a poem of my own that I do not hate.

I wrote it on March twenty-eighth.

I'm not much of a poet,
but I will tell you what happened.
It is customary for me to listen to the news as I drive.
Sailing down the streets late one evening, the stars continually catch my eye.
I am reminded of you immediately and recall exaggerated memories that often get told, often just to myself.
I begin to sing loudly, from the heart, like a faithful Gospel singer, all the love songs I know.
The songs bounce off the stars and remain to this very moment amongst them, ricocheting off their light.
I hope they caught your ear, wherever you are, because I am certain we see the same stars.
I park at home and cease my song. The newscasters try to behave as if they did not hear.
Even they know, however, that you are loved.

The Stops

Here are some pictures that I consider to be some of my best. Just a quick and little post for today.

"Get Me Something To Be Sick In!!!"

It's been long.

I had a dream where I was a manager at the coffee shop. What fun, and dear dear let's hope dreams do in fact come true. And to encourage employees who have to work at six in the morning, I would give the following spiel.

"Don't think of it as an opening shift, think of it as a starting shift. Because you open a book, but you start a legacy."

I'm quite sure that my employees hated me, but I think that line is pretty encouraging.

I also have two followers now, which counts for a very minute cult all depending on what I decide to write.

I had this conversation with someone from work.

"Do you believe in telepathy?" she asked.
"Not really."
"Ghosts?"
"Sure."
"You believe in ghosts, not telepathic vision?"
"Exactly. Ghosts don't have hotlines or ask for credit card numbers."

I have started letting the nadsat vocabulary seep in from numerous watches of A Clockwork Orange. Which is fine. Usually Steve and I will throw around phrases.

"Well, if it isn't fat stinking billy goat Billy Boy in poison! How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou!"
"Let's get 'em, boys!"

I have been tempted about asking my psychology teacher if there is a crip side of the brain, or a gangster lobe.

Current musical ventures-Limbeck, the Ditty Bops, Paris Combo, and Phantom Planet.

Current literary ventures-________ (did you notice the blank?).

I finished Franz Kafka's Amerika two weeks ago. It was alright. There is a fast talking man named Kerry who talks about music with me at work. His presence is enjoyable, except he often does not realise that I cannot hear him, for his voice does not carry, and I simply cannot hear that fast. He gave me the new Andrew Bird CD, Rilo Kiley, and Paris Combo. He's a good guy though.

My boss in the pizza place speaks in a thick ebonics accent, as in, idiotically mispronounces things in a very high voice.

"Ya'll got any chicken wangs?"

"I graditated from U of A, Universe-iddy uh-f a-bonics."

Other things worth mentioning are unmentionable because one of the two people to potentially read this is directly connected. I am learning Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk, and am planning on going to karaoke with some friends. So I will end with confessing my new, and blossoming, love for the Bee Gees, especially Barry Gibb impressions.

"Ah-ha-aah-ah!"