A few of my thoughts for today. . .

Currently Listening Ups & Downs: Early Recordings and B-Sides By Saves the Day see related

Today I thought about the following:

• Whenever I am carrying a cup with a straw in it, it makes me nervous to run up stairs.
  
• Can a straw skewer your eyeball?
• I never trust the people who put up the "mail not in" sign. I'll check anyway. I'll bet you money that the mail will be there. It never is.
  
• I'll check again later no matter what the sign says.
• If:
  
• W=Western,
  
• B=Bacon,
  
• and C=Cheeseburger,
  
• than a Double Western Bacon Cheeseburger=2(wbc).
• And as we all know 2(wbc)=Delicious.
• God provides in wonderful ways.
• Whenever I try to measure things in relation to my thumb, it just makes me think about how big my thumb is.
• pretty big.
  
• It's weird that you can get a sunburn one day in Colorado, and have to wear mittens the next day.
• I'm excited for this weekend.
• The number on my receipt for Carl's Jr. was 82. But on my bag they wrote: "82 m." What does M stand for?
• Male?
• Made with love for jim?
  
• Mmmmmm. . . what a delicious double western bacon cheeseburger?
• Perhaps today's meal is brought to you by: the number '82' and the letter 'M.'
  
• it's probably Medium.
  
• I decided that I am going to try doing crunches whenever my roommate leaves the room.
• I think this will be an easy way to start, because I'll probably only have to do crunches about once a week.
• I keep thinking that I spelled skewer wrong earlier.
• according to Google, I didn't.
• If I were a computer, or a video game, or a professional sports player, or a contestant on American Idol, I would punch my roommate in the face for swearing at me so much when I do things wrong.
  
• The other day somebody said they'd like to live inside my brain, just to see how I come up with the thoughts that I have (because I had said something weird again).
  
• I doubt they would be very comfortable in there.
• not because I have extremely odd thoughts
• just because I don't think they would fit that well.
• my head is not person sized.
• and if it were, then I guess that I wouldn't be a person,
  
• because I would be much too big
• that would probably make them not want to live in my head anyway.
• because I would be a GIANT.
• Would I want to live in a giant's head?
• maybe.
• can I control the giant?
• or am I just watching?

I think these are some of the hard-hitting questions that we all need to ask.


Just a few of my thoughts for the day.

love always,
jim.

when I go out. . .

Currently Listening The End Is Here By Five Iron Frenzy see related

I play in the street
I get hit by cars
I make mashed potatoes
I get hit by cars.

----------------------------------------------
Hey everybody,

So lately I've been comparing myself today to myself a couple years ago; The people I was closest to, the songs I listened to most, the ideas I held most dear. And I think it's made me understand the shock that time travelers must feel. It's like I've gotten into a Delorean, accelerated to 88 miles per hour, and driven through some sort of tear in time and space*. And everything is recognizeable but totally different. It's still Hill Valley, but there are flying cars, people think my jacket is a life preserver, Dr. Brown saves a lady named Clara from falling into a ravine and ruins the geographical name of the location forever, etc. And I realize, Great Scot!**, time is just a crazy thing.

Time seems really fluid. At some moments it seems like things take forever, but at other times I realize how short things really lasted. I feel like I'm often living in the past. But is that really possible?

I really liked things as they were back in high school (and as they are right now for that matter). But it often feels like two completely separate places. One place has Twin Pines Mall (where I meet the Doc in the middle of the night and he gets shot by some Libyans***), and the other has old man Peabody's farm (he thinks I'm a space alien and he shoots at me with his shotgun but misses and blows up his own mail box).

Not that either place is necessarily better--or anymore lacking in excitement--but sometimes I feel myself wishing that I could change where I was; Wishing that I could go back in time. Not necessarily so that I could change things (because that could have disasterous consequences [Clayton/Shownash Ravine e.g.]), but just so I could enjoy them again.

I wish I could go back, but I guess it's exciting to be moving forward. Granted, it's terrifying. I don't know what the future is going to be like, and the truth is: I really liked the past. But I think I'll enjoy the future: it has the excitement of the unknown, it has unlimited possibility.

And after all, apparently "we don't need roads.****" So that's something to look forward to also.


love always,
jim.


Notes:
*temporal displacement occurring at exactly 1:20 AM and zero seconds, Saturday morning, October 26, 1985.

**or, if you prefer: This is heavy!

***the Libyan nationalists were mad because the Doc promised to build them a bomb, but he just took their plutonium and gave them a shoddy bomb casing filled with used pinball machine parts.

****sorry about the fact that this entire post is basically Back to the Future references. Couldn't really think of any better way to say it.

The roads were paved with plans we've made. . .

Currently Listening Interventions and Lullabies By The Format Wait, Wait, Wait see related

Day 1541.

I had a dream last night that I was sitting in concert choir.

But there weren't very many people in there. Just Andres and me and what seemed like the choir kids from my graduating class (but it couldn't have been all of them). We all were sitting in our regular concert choir seats so we were pretty far apart. We sang this song that we had never sang before. We sounded really terrible (kinda like we always sounded when we first started on a difficult song). Andres just did that weird smile that he does and said that we'd get back to it tomorrow. Dave came down to me, and I said, "I'm really glad we get to go get lunch now."

And for some reason it seemed perfect. It made me wake up and really miss high school.

Not that I don't like college, but I miss simplicity. I miss singing terribly and trying it again tomorrow. I miss lunch with Dave and Stephen. I miss having everyone who I have known for my whole life within a few miles. Now everybody is all spread out and that's weird to me.

When I got up, I was thinking about how Columbine's seniors are graduating soon and that means that I'll be done with my freshman year soon. It's gone by really fast. I can remember watching people before me go off to college, and then come back for summer, and go off again, and thinking "I'll never be that old." Somehow I really thought that the time would never come for me. Somehow I wasn't subject to the laws of space and time. I was a time traveler, a Peter Pan; forever young.

But now I'm one of those people who have gone off to college, and is coming back for summer, and then will go off again. But I still don't feel that old.

miss you guys,
love always,
jim.


P.S. Dodgeball tournament today. Wish us luck!

Currently Listening Interventions and Lullabies By The Format Wait, Wait, Wait see related

yup.

You know the night life is just not for me, 'cause all you really need are a few good friends.

Currently Listening Across The Universe [Deluxe Edition] By Original Soundtrack see related

Hey everybody,

Today was really pretty good.

I was thinking earlier that I felt like I had a lot of things to write on here. Things that seemed important. But now that I'm sitting here, trying to think of those things, I'm drawing a complete blank.

So whatevski. . .

Today in creative writing we had what Todd calls the "World's Worst Poetry Challenge!"

Basically, you just write the worst poem you can and people vote on which on sucks the most.

Here is my submission, it is called: Writing A Poem is Difficult . . . Like Having Monsters Shoot Beams Of Light At My Internal Organs


Todd told me to write a poem.
So I wrote this poem so I could show 'em.
That not just anyone can write a poem.

A poem can be hard to write.
It's almost like being in a fight:
A fight where monsters shoot beams of light
—from their eyeballs.

Their eyeballs can see my fear
at having monsters so very near.
The eyeballs can see me shed a tear
—as monsters are shooting beams of light at me.

I hate the monsters, they make me feel bad
being attacked by monsters is not what I'd call “rad.”
The most aggressive monster says his name is Brad.
—Brad is a jerk.

The monsters are all jerks, because they are so mean
they aim all of their beams of light directly at my
spleen.
That is an idea that I do not find so peachy-keen.
—the idea of shooting laser beams at my internal
organs.

Organs play music, the music of my heart,
music that is beautiful like a piece of pretty art,
but I cannot hear the music, I only hear monsters fart
—because that's what monsters do when they are
shooting laser beams at me.

love always,
jim.

It's amazing how things change

Hey everybody,

It rained today, and it made me feel a little bit nostalgic. So I thought I would indulge in the nostalgia a bit.

So I got on the ol' xanga and read some old posts. It amazes me to see who I was a year ago, two years ago, three years ago. I can't believe that things can change that much, yet I'm still the same person.

That is absolutely bizarre.

But looking back, it's really exciting to see that my life isn't just consistent. It's always changing. It's a story.

And it sure makes for a good read on a rainy day.

love always,
jim.