Day 2258 - My Lie

Currently Hope for the Hopeless By Brett Dennen see related

Dear Internet,

I have to tell you something. Something important. I told a lie yesterday, and I needed to let you know. It's no big deal, but I'm going to tell you about it now--just to clear my conscience. Here's what happened:

Yesterday afternoon, at about six o'clock, I went to Panda Express, ordered a two entree plate, and then I ordered a red Gatorade. That was the lie. The red Gatorade. I've been feeling bad about it.

The reason I lied was that I was feeling really bad about stuffing my arteries with Panda. I could have been eating salad or munching on carrot sticks or chewing down some wheatgrass, but instead I was eating fried bird flesh soaked in grease.

So I ordered a red Gatorade as a way of saying, "Hey there Panda employee, don't you worry. I'm going to work this off at the gym as soon as I leave."

And she smiled as a way of saying, "Enjoy the gym, future body-builder."

But I didn't go to the gym.

And this is where it gets bad, Internet. This is where my self-esteem--which has lately been hovering around normal--dropped to negative 1000. I dropped my Gatorade.

Now I know this doesn't sound like a big deal for most people, but it is for me, and you won't understand unless I tell you something about myself. So here it goes:

I. Hate. Bending. Over.

Bending over is the worst. It's like sticking your butt into the air and having the whole world stare into your soul. I don't care how skinny you are, you don't look good bending over. Maybe that's melodramatic, but it's true. And it's especially true when you are bending over while holding a box of Panda in one hand. And it's more especially true when some athletic jogging girl with her ipod strapped around her arm comes by and picks up your Gatorade before your fat fingers can reach it.

I was caught in my lie. I was clearly not going to the gym. I was only going to do one excercise after leaving Panda, and that was picking up my red Gatorade. One rep.

Feeling somewhat down, I said thank you to the jogging girl--who couldn't hear me over the sound of her speeding metabolism--and left. I went to the meeting I had upstairs and sat down like a bear with a tranquilizer dart in its neck, just eating chow-mein and orange chicken, while slowly running out of breath. The red Gatorade--its bottle now dented from the fall--was used to wash down my smörgåsbord, not for any of its valuable electrolytes.

I'm sorry, Internet. I just thought you should know.

I feel much better now.

love always,

-jim.

Day 2252 - My Mistake

Currently Ben Folds Live By Ben Folds see related

As I was walking to school today, I noticed that someone had spilled Cheerios along the sidewalks all the way to the student center. Absentmindedly, I started kicking the Cheerios into the gutter and into piles of snow.

Then I realized . . . How are Hanzel and Gretyl supposed to get home?

My mistake. Sorry.

love always,

-jim.

Day 2251-The Dust Bowl Migration and Okie Culture in California

Currently American Exodus: The Dust Bowl Migration and Okie Culture in California By James N. Gregory see related

Let's just say it.

I'M FUSSY. I don't know exactly why this is, but I am.

Here are my thoughts on the matter:

1. Crappy books, like American Exodus by James N. Gregory, make me fussy.

2. Reading crappy books, like American Exodus by James N. Gregory, in rain and or snow makes me fussy.

3. Having an upcoming exam on a crappy book--like American Exodus by James N. Gregory--makes me fussy.

5. Writer's Block makes me fussy. Extra fussy. (American Exodus blows).

I just drank a large root beer in an attempt to cheer myself up. It didn't particularly help.

Maybe this will:

Dear James N. Gregory,

You sir, are the worst person ever. I understand that "The Dust Bowl Migration and Okie Culture in California" may be an important thing for many people to learn about, however, reading your book is similar to putting my face in a George Foreman Grill.

Cordially,

James Edwin Taggart Esquire III

I'm still fussy.

Dear Ray Allen Billington Prize Committee,

I am writing concerning your favorable review of a book titled American Exodus, by James N. Gregory. You refer to Mr. Gregory's work as "[a] masterpiece of reflection, imagination and research, a book that advances our historical understanding, with a narrative skillfully and vividly told" and "a testimony to what the historical profession and history are presumed to be about."

I disagree.

Cordially,

J.E. Taggart-Feldspar-Jones-Abernathy-McDougal-Douglass Jr.

Nope, still fussy.

Well, it was worth a shot.

love always,

-jim.

Day 2249 - Words & Rhymes & Notes . . .

Currently Her Majesty By The Decemberists see related

. . . and all the things I wish I wrote.

So, I'm attempting to write a story for my writing group on Thursday, and it's real slow going.

I really want to write something profound, but unfortunately, that means I write nothing. With each line that I put down, I take a half-an-hour debating and then more often than not, I delete it. And that doesn't mean that it's a really well polished story. It just means that it is very short and not really a story at all.

Thus, I feel fairly unaccomplished today. I've done two loads of laundry and that is the extent of what I've achieved.

Which makes me wonder if my future career should be in the laundry industry and not in publishing.

And that's kind of a sad thought to have after finishing three years of creative writing studies.

love always,
-jim.

Day 2245 - Getting Ready

Currently Interventions and Lullabies By The Format see related

I'm packing up all my stuff for the trip tomorrow, and I just realized it's been a long time since I last went on a trip. There's sort of a weird feeling that you get when packing everything--it's really exciting, but at the same time it basically feels like a job. Packing is a struggle. I don't understand why I have such a hard time just putting clothes into a bag. With each thing I put in, I start thinking about what the next couple days will be like and then I end up taking a ten minute break to stare at the ceiling. Then I get to thinking about what the ceiling of our hotel will look like, and eventually I've tried to count all the little Spackle dots around the perimeter of my room.

Isn't it weird that a change of scenery can make such an impact? I'm only traveling one state away but it takes me twenty minutes just to pack a shirt.

I think that maybe travel is a lot more complicated than just a trip to New Mexico. It's like every time I pack my bags, I think of all the places that there are in the world. And there are a lot of places. And not just places that I'd actually go--also, uninhabited islands, frozen wastelands, pockets of nuclear radioactivity, fictional settings. With each t-shirt that I pack, I think about how crazy big the world is.

And I'm traveling to a small part of it tomorrow, so that'll be nice.

love always,
-jim.

Day 2242 - Depth Perception

Currently Away We Go All My Days see related

I have been feeling extremely optimistic today. Feeling like despite the fact that I really have no idea what the rest of my life looks like, it's going to be positive. Perhaps it's the experiences and friendships I've been a part of this semester or perhaps it's just the fact that the sun is finally coming back, but I feel good.

My stimulus for writing this is something that just happened about three seconds ago; my phone buzzed, so I was reaching for it in the dark and closed my hand about three inches too soon. And I thought it was weird that the light of the phone looked like it was right there, but it wasn't. And while this doesn't really seem like a life altering moment, it got me thinking about depth perception.

We just got back from a birthday party for my sister-in-law's parents, and it made me think about how much I like being part of a family. I've been thinking that a lot lately--that I'm glad to be part of a family. And the weird thing is, why didn't I think that before? I obviously never hated my family or anything, but I never had this strong of a feeling. I think that's what depth perception is like; it's understanding the relationships between things. Or maybe it's understanding your understanding of the relationships between things. And up until now, my depth perception was not that great.

But something has changed for me recently--like I've gotten new bifocals. I think I understand how I relate to people. I understand more about friendship and family than I think I ever have, and it's weird to be relearning things that I always considered to be the basics. Maybe I've found my place (at least for the time being). And that's a really nice feeling to have, I think.

love always,
-jim.

Day 2240 - Historical Revisionism & Santa Fe

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

So, as of this evening, I am officially alone on Xanga. As I write this, there is nobody left on this website to read it. The one person who was holding out has thrown in the towel, and as far as I can tell, 'we'--and at this point I mean it like the royal 'we'--have reached population: 1. And it feels strange to be writing into a void. The blog has never been meant to attract much attention, but normally when I say 'you' it actually applies to a reader, not a Google keyword search.

But, be that as it may, I've suddenly begun to feel the desire to blog again--more so for myself than any sort of virtual audience. It seems to be a feeling I get a lot as spring approaches. However, every time that I sit down to type something, my mind draws a complete blank. Thus, I have been looking back at my old posts for inspiration, and it's made me think a lot about who I used to be.

And before you--by you, I of course mean the machine(s) reading this--start thinking that I'm about to get all nostalgic-philosophical, understand that I am mostly talking about grammar, sentence structure, and subject material.

My oldest posts have none of those things, and as someone who has now been programmed to fix every error in punctuation and comma usage it slightly drives me nuts. But I made it a rule when I started this project that once something was written it was permanent, and I intend to follow that rule. Some of the posts on this page are really important to me and still bring up some really strong memories. Others are just plain embarrassing. But the truth is, I think they are all important. I realize that I've changed a lot since that first post, and I think that the real me is some sort of hybrid between '-jim.' now and 'Jimbo' then. So deleting the ones I don't like would mean deleting part of who I am now.

That's my thought on Xanga Historical Revisionism. Glad we got that out of the way.

---

Furthermore, I'm going to New Mexico for spring break next week, which is cool but also kind of weird.

It's cool because now whenever I watch Newsies and Christian Bale is singing about how he wants to go to Santa Fe, I can yell at the screen, "I've been there Christian Bale! You may be Batman, but I've been to Santa Fe!" And I think I'll enjoy that profusely.

It's weird because New Mexico is where my parents lived before I was born, and all I can do is picture my kids vacationing in Colorado someday. They'll be staying in a hotel near where I am sitting right now and planning their excursions around the state. Maybe they'll visit the places I went when I was growing up. Maybe one of the excursions will be to visit this house if it's still here. I never thought of a duplex as a tourist location, but maybe it is.

---

Lastly, I just found out that Conan O'brien is doing a touring show. Rest assured, tickets will be purchased soon.


-jim.

P.S. This post was somewhat bland and lacking in any poetic value, and I am completely aware of that. But really, it's only being read by robots, microchips, and possibly Skynet, so who do I have to impress?

P.S.S. In regards to my previous comment about impressing robots, I would just like to say: 01001001 00100000 01100001 01101101 00100000 01110011 01101111 01110010 01110010 01111001 00100000 01101001 01100110 00100000 01001001 00100000 01101111 01100110 01100110 01100101 01101110 01100100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101110 00100000 00100000 01010000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00100000 01110011 01110000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01101100 01101001 01100110 01100101 00100000 01110111 01101000 01100101 01101110 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01110010 01101111 01100010 01101111 01110100 00100000 01110101 01110000 01110010 01101001 01110011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110

Day 2237 - A brief announcement.

Currently Our Story Begins: New and Selected Stories (Vintage Contemporaries) By Tobias Wolff see related

I think I want to work in a bookstore this summer. Or maybe a movie theater.

That is all.