Oops

http://www.knifescam.piczo.com/?cr=6

He still gets a little choked up over Tiananmen square

He stood on the crest of the hill overlooking the city. He knew the storm was coming, but he turned his back to it. Not out of fear or direspect, he had quickly learned that those were luxuries that only those destined to fail could afford. He had seen a thousand storms. He wanted to feel a thousand more.

She found him where she left him. Not that she had ever been there before, she just knew better. Her soft smile awoke him from his trance and he looked at her. 

Then they looked at each other.

After a few seconds he found his voice.

"I left it on vibrate for you"

   

More awesome than a robot caveman punching God in the dick.

Push and Butan are best friends forever...

Been an interesting weekend. Which followed an interesting week. Everyone I've talked to about it agrees with me, though.

Which is a waste of my fucking time.

I already know what I think.  It was challenged, and in a more effective way than usual. But everyone around me is telling me the same thing. I know I didn't surround myself with lackeys and yes-men and my friends have always been good about letting me know what's up. I'll find somebody.   

Your first dawn blinded you, left you cursing the day.
Entrance is crucial and it's not without pain.
There's no path to follow, once you're here.
You'll climb up the slide and then you'll slide down the stairs.

It's foreign on this side,
But it feels like I'm home again.

Fable

Once there was a giraffe and a monkey. As far as giraffes go, she was pretty hot. Cool as shit, too. The story of how the giraffe and the monkey started hanging out is long and arduous and I'll save that for another time. But nonetheless, they were cool. They went bowling, went to see concerts, hung out on the weekends. They were in love.

Now the monkey, he was really smart. He basically knew the answer to everyone's problems. He was always right, because he was perfect. Sooo much perfection... Like really, he could do no wrong, like frickin' Jesus. And since he was so perfect, it was his job-no, his duty to convert everyone to his way of thought. For the most part he meant well, but his perfection had a curious way of getting in the way of perfection and fucking a lot of really important things up. Really though, he just wanted to make everything better. He wanted the giraffe happy and in his arms.

Did I mention he was perfect?

Now the giraffe had a really long neck. Sooo much length. That's what giraffes do. Because her neck was so long, the monkey had trouble seeing her face. This upset the monkey, because her face was beautiful no matter what twigs she had in her hair or giraffe food crumbs she had on her lip (what do giraffes eat? leaves of some sort I assume...). It was really hard for the giraffe to bend down and show the monkey her face. It involved a lot of twisting and bending and stressful, uncomfortable situations. The monkey thought it was worth it and because he knew everything always wanted to see her face.

And occasionally she would show it to him.

But a curious thing always happened. Whenever the giraffe contorted and squeezed and bent down to show the monkey her face, the monkey would accidentally kick dirt in her face. It was never on purpose, sometimes he wouldn't even realize he did it (which is weird...I thought he was perfect). But all the giraffe knew is that whenever she bent down, she got dirt kicked in her face. Why go through all that trouble, when you're just gonna get dirt kicked in your face? Besides, it's much easier to just not show your face. We all know that.

So the monkey was really stressed out now. Why did he keep kicking dirt in her face. That wasn't perfect. That was very NOT perfect. The monkey was scared he'd never get to see the giraffe's face again if he didn't stop fucking up. So the monkey thought. And thought and thought and thought.

Then he thought so more.

Nothing.

(The next few pages are missing...I couldn't find them...they'll turn up somewhere though.)

...so now we find the monkey and the giraffe laying undiscovered, making plans, sharing fears, becoming one and having nothing but endless sunshine filled days to look forward to.

That's a story to tell the kids

Ohh noo...

What they get out of the show

60. How frequently do you persuade others to your view of a problem?

The mouse hovers over "Always". 

Dammit

I click "Often" and move on.

I finished filling out my application for books-a-million today. I'm excited to try out the whole "UVa on a resume is a surefire win" theory. I also think that it would be a sweet job. Within walking distance, filled with books, coffee shop in the store. Sounds like a win for me.

Phillip wanted me to come in today and I need the hours, but he wanted to trade and I'm not gonna give a weekend up for a Tuesday. That's madness. 

Hopefully I'll get a chance to play set today, or at least talk to Dennis about mallet arrangements.  I think over the next two years I wanna write a serious arrangement of a combo of Beauty and the Mess and Smoothie Song by Nickel Creek. The percussion ensemble concert only re-affirmed my confidence that it would work really well. Something about "progressive bluegrass" (ugh, every time I see that, let alone say it, I shudder) really carries over with the infamous vibraphone-xylophone combination and with a marimba carrying the bass part I think it should come together nicely. 

At our percussion ensemble concert last month, we had a guest artist. One very eccentric Ed Smith. Phenomenal percussionist. Potential creeper on our instructor who was his old student. Anyhoo, he played a solo that was half improv and half arrangement of Blackbird. It was amazing and completely rekindled my faith in the vibraphone. Now I want to at least attempt to do something similar. Ryan will probably be my major go-to-guy for awhile and it may turn out that I'm not capable of writing at that level and won't be for awhile. Whatever. It should be fun. 

Behind the melody the words don't mean a thing,

but every tone I play will give whatever I've not said away

Side note: Chris Thile of Nickel Creek uses Jameson to "keep his vocal chords relaxed" in the studio. Respect.

Abnegate

If there's always variety in the variables,

Is this the x to end all "why"?

I haven't felt like blogging as of recent, but I was watching Lost (getting mind fucked) and got an urge to write. I thought it was gonna be a monster post, but it turned out to be just what's above. Go figure.