Nearly Giving In.

I'm just not quite sure what do with myself right now. I feel incredibly uncomfortable all the time, my stomach in knots, mostly unhappy. There's bright spots for sure, but they seem to few and far between anymore, and mostly fleeting. Small things just aren't filling the gaps.

I guess I just kind of give up. Or maybe give in. I've tried and it's just not happening. This trickles down to many things going on right now. I just feel defeated all the time, I can't explain why, and the daily pep talks I give myself just aren't doing the trick any longer. Optimism is on vacation for now. I just can't do it any longer, I can't talk myself into looking past facts. Truth is, they are getting harder and harder to look past.

I'm at a crossroads in many things. Frankly, I'm just fucking worn out, period. I'm so tired of trying with nothing in return. I feel pretty miserable about it most of the time. I have put myself out there enough that by now, if things aren't coming up for me, it's time to give up and let external forces take course. I'm just too tired for this shit anymore.

I've tried repeatedly to meet people and it's just not happening. I refuse to do it anymore. It makes me feel pathetic and it makes me sad. On the two occasions it appeared to work out, one group suddenly decided that I was something of a creep and another person told me (in more terms, but basically) that I was boring. Am I boring? Maybe. Now. It shook me though. I never thought of myself as boring, but then again, I'm suddenly different than I once was. I remain pretty quiet in most situations. The commentary in my head screams for me to be more outgoing, but when it comes to doing it, my mind suddenly blanks out. So I guess I am. It's pretty hard to face.

But what did I really expect? At the age of 25 I uproot myself and plant somewhere else, was I expecting Portland to break out the good china and the nice silver? Maybe, foolishly. I definitely was expecting something else than what I have. It was this hasty and selfish decision that I'm paying for now. I hurt a lot of feelings in the process, feelings that I wish I could repair now because of a change of heart. But even that's not happening.

I feel cursed. I live in my head way too much. The mind has a funny way of creating tragedies where they don't exist. And yet, I feed into them for some reason, the cause of a lot of my anxiety and panic attacks of late. I hate it. I feel utterly helpless in this situation and completely pathetic, clingy and shitty. But once again, what do I expect? I have an uncanny tendency to be a complete fuck up. This is rooted deeply in being scared to do anything real in my life or a fear of being tied down, rejected or failing. Funny that when I finally confront this fear and do something about it, spill my guts to her, I'm just too late.

And what about that? Anytime you place your future or happiness in the hands of another you run a pretty high risk and it's crushing when the decision you want doesn't happen. I asked her to move here, I promised stability, happiness, understanding. I wanted to turn over a new leaf, abandon my selfishness, my old baggage, my old lifestyle. I considered moving to where she would be, or even making distance work until I'm finished with school, but she still wasn't on board. I was seeking redemption for past mistakes. It's just not going to happen. And I don't blame her. She took the brunt of a lot of my bullshit, enough to make anyone shy away from trying again. And she has a new life, one with new things, new projects, new guys; one that doesn't quite work with me in the partner role because I fucked up and I would probably get in the way.

So here I sit, a little confused on where to go now. When she delivered the death blow (or blows) I could feel myself harden, close up and get cold. I tried to remain persistent, shedding more layers and providing deeper revelations. I'm just too late. We still talk about it, so I guess nothing is completely over yet, but I can feel myself weakening through all of this. The peaks and valleys of my emotions are taking a toll. Normally at this time I would go on to drink and fuck my way into oblivion, but I just can't do it anymore. I have enough self-respect to stay away from it, it's never done anything but bring me more grief.

So what then? I don't know. The compound effect of everything is dragging me down. My mom thinks I could be depressed, or suffering from season affective disorder, or both. Even offering to get me one of those lights for my apartment that is supposed to replicate the sun. I don't know about all of that. Even if I was/am depressed, it doesn't make my matters any less true, but maybe the affect that much greater. And by now
I've nearly resigned myself to remaining a hermit, in my messy apartment, and focus solely on my design work and school. It's all I really have anymore. My spirit may be broken in other areas, but I still have the drive to do that. For now, I guess this is all that remains. I'm somewhat okay with this and will learn to live with it. It's certainly not ideal, but what can I do? I can't magically make a girlfriend and potential wife appear out of nowhere. Plus by now, I feel pretty unavailable and undesirable. So I guess the plan for now is: finish school and figure things out from there hoping to shake this funk I'm in in the process. I'm leaving most everything else up to fate and other people.

I hate to read shit like this, but I'm far too self aware to not admit it. I'm sick of phonies and I'm sick of being one myself. Yes, I'm cynical, I'm bitter and I'm beaten. But I'm not dead, just residing in some fucked up limbo waiting for something to change; waiting for the time I can open myself up again and restart, stretch my legs and go for it again.

Any day now.

m

Dear Kevin,

I guess it's sort of silly to be writing a letter to a cat. However, to me, you were always more than that. My best friend, my buddy. You were always there, ready to play or snuggle or just chill out on my stomach. I remember a lot of things about you. I spend hours in my day recalling memories because I don't want them to fade. The time you climbed the walls at the A-Frame, when you destroyed nearly everything of value at my mom's house when we had to stay there, the blanket my mom had that you loved. These things are pieces in a chain. I remember when you got neutered, I couldn't pick you up from the Humane Society because I had to work late, so my mom got you and took you back to the A Frame. She said she walked in a room full of cats each with a tiny blanket over them, you were curled up covered in a blue blanket. I came home from work, excited to see my boy. You were still doped up, but you tried so hard to greet me like you did everyday. You fell over twice.

You loved people, and in turn, everyone loved you. I was always so happy to see you out mingling at my birthday parties with the other guests. Laps, no matter whose, were always within your domain. You were just so friendly, funny and awesome. The way you would taunt other cats, or eat bugs. You always knew when I was down or sick. You would always come and sleep near me, usually between my legs, under a blanket. You loved being under the blankets. You would stay for hours on end and when you would finally leave, your fur would stick up from static and it was so hot to the touch.

The cat nip leopard print mouse, the tuxedo collar that you always tore off, the heart shaped cat collar Enoch got me for secret santa, all the torn up carpets, couch arms, sweaters. The places I made you live, the cats, the dogs, the people, you put up and loved all of them. Eating grass, sunbathing, the look you gave me every time I opened a window. Pieces in a chain.

You died a year ago today. It still makes me sad. I'm not quite concrete on the details even still. I didn't find out until days later. It was a Thursday. I let you outside. You were always good about staying around the house. I can only imagine that you followed Charlie across 10th St. And a car struck you on the way. I'm not sure who. The Animal Control people said they got a call from a couple and when they came to pick you up, they found you in the grass near the curb. It was 8 pm, . I called for you everyday, frequently. I asked neighbors, peeked in basements thinking you had gotten in. No avail.

I got the call at work, the lady at Animal Control was very nice. I sent her a thank you card. I didn't know what to do. I was in hysterics all day, crying constantly. I got a lot of supportive phone calls from people who had known you, which was nice, and very appreciated. My mom and I picked you up from Animal Control; I couldn't bear to see your body, so my mom went and saw you. I had brought a Tierra Farm Salted Mixed Nuts box in which to carry your body. I distinctly remember seeing my mom in the side mirror carrying that box and crying also. We got you cremated. Before we left you with the vet, I whispered parting words into the box. I hope you heard them. Your remains are on my desk in front of me right now in a white plastic cylinder with your name on it. Kevin/Feline. I can't decide what to do with them. I don't know if I ever will.

I don't regret letting you outside that night or ever. You loved it. You ate so much grass, so many bugs. You would chase Charlie around the yard and across the street. You would join us on the porch for beers and belly rubs. I just regret not keeping an eye on you that night.

I live in Portland, Oregon now. I know that you probably don't have a clue what that means. You would love it here, although I don't think you would appreciate the rain much. I think of you daily, your pictures hang on my fridge. Ethan is somewhere, I hope alive in a nice home with a loving family. Charlie, is somewhere, I hope alive in a nice home with a loving family. I feel like I let them down, I feel guilty about the way I left them. I got a "K" tattooed on my arm so that I can always remember and think you for the rest of my life. Maybe that's a tad silly, but it looks great and I don't regret it. I still see you often in my dreams.

I miss you, and would give just about anything to have you here with me. Maybe then things wouldn't be so lonely. I love you also, always will, and I don't think I'm the only one. You were a great cat, a lot of fun, and amazing. I had you for 6 years of my life. Six important years. You stayed through a lot of great times, a lot of hard times, a lot of shitty times, 2 serious girlfriends, 5 residences, countless friends/visitors.

I'm not sure how to end this.

I love you buddy and maybe I'll see you again someday.

Take care,

Mike

TOP 15 RECORDS.

I guess you could say that in my spare time here in Portland I've been listening to a lot of music. The fact of the matter is I'm always listening to music; it's an obsession of mine and I'm always scouring for new music to get excited about. It's fun. It's what separates a pedestrain from a fanatic. However, I do have mainstays in my collection, that piece of plastic or wax, that I continually go to when I just need a refresher course, when I've lost faith in new music or to be reminded of a time in my life.

So, as of right now, it is 11:50 am in Portland, Oregon on Saturday February 3rd, and this is my top 15 records of all time (as of right now). I'll spare the long winded reviews on some and add a little spice to others.

1) DRIVE LIKE JEHU - self-titled (Headhunter)
The number one spot is always tough to decide. The rule goes that the top 3 should always be interchangeable, but stay constant. Drive Like Jehu are a force. When I first heard this record, it was one of those rare moments where you get so caught up in something, spine tingling, eye wide open, in the zone. My mind was beaming. It's a hard choice between the s/t record and Yank Crime, their later full length. They are both completely excellent. But I'm sticking with the first Jehu record I heard, the gateway into many dynamic records I've bought since.

2) THE CLASH - London Calling (Epic)
The Clash really had it on this record. You just can't fuck with "Clampdown."

3) JAWBREAKER - Dear You (DGC/8 Ball)
Much like the Jehu record above, this is one of those records that just grabbed me from second one. Juvenile Wreck was on tour and staying in Warren, PA. Eric Peabody had a copy and put it on. I was just gone after that. In an amazing twist of fate, Mel (our drummer), had brought a copy of Dear You with her on tour and on that historic 23 hour drive back home I don't think it left my discman. It was all over from there. I listen to this record probably the most consistent and it always drudges up those old familiar feelings. As I move on in my life with this record, new emotions, instances and people get attached to it. I just can't explain properly how important this record is to me.

4) FUGAZI - End Hits (Dischord)
This was a tough call. Both recorded near each other, Red Medicine and End Hits are indisputably the best Fugazi records. End Hits is just jaw dropping, this is where Fugazi really caught their stride; their peak even. The songs just flat out rock, but they are weird and go through amazing tempos. You can't fuck with the drums on this and Guy's songs are some of the best he's ever written.

5) NEUTRAL MILK HOTEL - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (Merge)
See the Drive Like Jehu review, change all the names. I really can't thank Lisa enough for exposing me to this record. Aeroplane will always stay with me and it will always reside in my top 5. Completely phenomenal.

6) ELLIOTT SMITH - XO (Dreamworks)
Tough call between XO and Figure 8. Both are pretty incredible. If not for "Bottle Up and Explode!", Figure 8 might be in this spot.

7) SUPERDRAG - Head Trip in Every Key (Capitol)
Okay, so maybe this band only got popular and signed to a major because of the success of Weezer. And their debut shows it, Regretfully Yours while good, just lacks the proper personality. When Superdrag released Head Trip in Every Key, it was universally hated. However, anyone who isn't a complete dunce, should know that this is truly an ambitious record, the best Superdrag album, and one of the most beautiful rock records ever produced. Sure, there's some stinkers on here a lot of which is just dated crap so far out of context (your alternative station is a bankrupt vibration?) but that aside, the amazing out-weighs the bad by heavy numbers. I really find it hard to do better than "Pine Away", "The Art of Dying" (a sitar? What?), and the completely sad herion anthem "Annetichrist."

8) CHARLIE BROWN GETS A VALENTINE - Dismissed (Whoa Oh)
Yet another record that just sweeps me back to a certain time and memories. If CBGaV had 't have come to Columbia on tour with the Ergs, I probably would have missed out on this. The crutch of CBGaV is their lyrics. The lyrics on this record are just so amazing, but that's not to say that the rest is just pop punk slop. Charlie Brown got away with a very hard pairing of musical stylings. I would say that this record is equal parts pop, punk, and the DC sound of yonder. 2 singers, one sweet as pie, one harsh. You sing your guts out to this record and get chills in the process. It's a magical record really. Too bad it was their last.

9) BLAKE - s/t (Blue Skies Turn Black/Mintaka Conspiracy)
Justin Nardy gave me this record for my birthday one year. And it sat, and sat and sat. I'm bad with records that way. I'd never heard them and while I was grateful for the gift, I just never really got around to it. One day a bug jumped up my ass and I put this 12" on the slab and connected the needle. WOW. I've always been a fan of that mid 90's DC post punk/hardcore/whatever sound. It's by far my biggest quest in finding some of these bands. Blake is just a knock out. Completely unknown and gone, but this record documents a band in its finest form. Amazing attack of great drumming, guitar work and call and response singing/yelling. If you can find a copy of this, or any Blake records, get them.

10) OKKERVIL RIVER - Black Sheep Boy (Jagjaguwar)
Once again, this is a band I sat on for a bit. Okkervil River was coming into town with the Decemberists and I had decided to pick up Don't Fall in Love with Everything You See in order to familiarize myself pre-show. I didn't like it much. Some songs were good, others weren't. But I was still going to the show, and they reeled me in, but I was still putting up a fight. So Black Sheep Boy comes out and I don't get it. Wasn't all that interested I guess. And then Jace burns me a copy about a year after its release. I'm such a moron. This record is fantastic. I immediately got Okkervil River. I needed everything they've ever done after that. This album remains the best thing they've done yet.

11) Q AND NOT U - Power (Dischord)
Power? Really? Yes. Q and not U's swan song isn't anything like their other records. I LOVE Q and not U's other records, but Power isn't like those. I hated it at first because of this. The high singing, the non-guitar playing, keyboard and beat driven songs. What is this shit? Admittedly, it was quite a trial to continually give this record a chance. I can't explain it, but one day it just clicked. Maybe I dropped some of my earlier notions, I don't know. This is by far, the best Q and not U record. It's amazing! The songs just pop and you want to get down. Fun all around. I thought it would be hard to edge out No Kill No Beep Beep, but I think this record has done it.

12) ARCADE FIRE - Funeral (Merge)
You've read all the reviews, the hype, you've seen the videos, the shows, the Pitchfork cock stroking. I bought all of that hook, line and sinker. Thankfully, there's an incredible album to back it all up.

13) GIANTSCHAIR - Purity and Control (Caulfield)
Hailing from Kansas City, MO (a short drive from my hometown) I only managed to see this band once. It was in the meeting room of the college radio station KCOU. You know, I was 13 maybe, so I don't remember much (although I do remember that they were playing with Rocket Fuel is the Key). The drummer gave us some stickers that I immediately put on anything just because I thought it was so cool to have band stickers, regardless of band. So let's fast forward. Nardy had a copy of Purity and Control in his collection. As roommates tend to do, we exchanged records from time to time. Nardy has good taste in records, so I figured I should give Giantschair a chance and see what I missed out on. In short, Giantschair is one of my favorite bands, ever. I can't explain it past that. Both of their records and all their ep's are just out of this world. It's not suicide it's only self-control.

14) HOT SNAKES - Automatic Midnight (Swami)
Adorned in a neon orange jewel case, I picked up Automatic Midnight on a whim. I had heard that John Reis of Rocket From the Crypt was in the band. In the history of the start of records, I don't think any record shakes you alive like the start of "If Credit's What Matters, I'll Take Credit." This is just a sonic blast of downstroke guitar pummeling and hoarse throat screaming.

15) ELVIS COSTELLO - My Aim is True (Columbia)
Sewing up the top 15, Elvis Costello. What can I say here? It's Elvis Costello. Really, any of his records could sit in this spot. The guy is a legend, he is the best. If you haven't made out to Elvis Costello, you just haven't lived.


*

Well that was fun.

Things are okay. Dead Mechanical full length is nearly on its way out. School is fine. Still lonely, but learning to live with it.

More some other time.

m

Well, I've been back in Portland for a week now.

My stay in Columbia was fine. Admittedly, I was pretty ready to get back to Portland pretty early in my trip, but seeing all my friends and family made my trip very nice. I appreciated seeing everyone and those that treated me to a drink and/or a meal. Is these aspects that I miss terribly, and nothing else in what could be called a retched town. Blah.

Christmas was nice. I was in St. Louis with my brother for a couple days. We had, as we usually do, a really great life conversation. I find it weird that he's much more willing to open up to me as opposed to my mom or dad. He's always been like that; very closed up and reserved, whereas I spill my guts to my folks without the bat of an eyelash. But to each is own. Scott is a really great person and even though we rarely speak, whenever we do it's as if we speak everyday.

New Year's wasn't anything to hoot and holler about. Is it ever? Maybe I'm going to the wrong parties.

*

So I'm back at school. I'm taking a really weird schedule this term. I don't like it. I have a few night classes and my other classes are spread out rather strangely. And I'm only taking one design class, the rest are gen ed or art. Best to get them out of the way I suppose. Photography should be fun. I guess I really don't have much to say about the term yet. Last week was the first week circus; drawing should suck, creative writing seems all right, digital layout and design has promise, math will be awful.

*

I joined a band! I'm playing with my friend Josh and two of his acquaintances, James and Dan. We've had one practice and it's... interesting? I'm playing bass, which is fine, it's been a while. James sings, which took me a while to get into, but now I like it. Josh is playing drums and he's pretty good. The only thing I don't gel with yet is Dan's guitar playing. Dan seems like a really great guy, but I question his guitar playing. For one, he plays a pretty cruddy guitar which has a weird string arrangement. It's a low E tuned very low so it's flapping around the fret board and the rest of the strings are all high E's tuned as tightly as they can get. It's pretty much noise guitar, he just stomps on a distortion pedal and makes noise. I can take noise all right, but I've never played it really. I'm used to writing with a guitar player and working from there, but it's apparent that it won't be the case this time.

We'll see what happens. I'm just pretty happy to be playing again.

*

What is the What

I've been reading this book for a little over a month now. I'm not quite as far as I should be due to school reading engagements and general laziness, but this is a fantastic book. I can tell already the importance of this book, so much so that I have been recommending it to all of my friends and family. My mom is currently reading it and liking it as well.

Then, much to my surprise, I hear that Valentino Achak Deng, the main character/subject of the book is doing a talk in Portland! So I went down to Reading Frenzy, which is a very tiny space, to listen to Valentino speak. The place was packed. People were outside trying to listen. I'm not sure why exactly, but I was extremely overwhelmed by the whole thing. Something about being in that moment just really got to me and now I'm enjoying the book even more. Highly recommended people! Go read it!

*

I got my ticket today for the Danielson Family Movie at the Reel Music Film Festival. I'm pretty excited, but I'm worried that it's going to be REALLY preachy. Oh well.

*

ALONE.

I'm feeling a little down about this. More than a little I suppose. Coming off of having Emilie in Portland and then immediately being in Columbia around all my best friends, it's pretty difficult to come back and have practically no one. I thought I had this beat, but I guess not.

At first I loved the solitude. It was refreshing and therapeutic. Then Em came and it was great, although it made me spoiled. Living in a new city and having someone who knows you perfectly is great and easy. I don't have to cultivate anything, it's right there. Which explains why I didn't really bother with anyone else really. This was a lot easier and I was guaranteed to have a good time.

Now she's gone and it's a little weird. I thought when I was planning on coming here that I would snatch up a lot of friends at school, and let's face it, it's just not happening. I don't connect with anyone (save a few, who I see from time to time) yet and I don't foresee it happening this term.

And my existing friends here are great, but they are busy, too busy most of the time. And I'm trying to branch out and find new people or attempt to hang out more often with people I already know, but nothing is really shaking yet. The whole experience just makes me feel pretty pathetic. I have an unruly fear of calling people for some reason; I hate to feel as if I'm bothering them, and I know it shows, which makes things awkward. I'm 25! I shouldn't be having this problem, but I guess that's what I get when I uproot and plant again in another state. These things take time, but I fear that I'm becoming pretty weird, socially awkward and undesirable. Too pushy, persistent, and desperate for friendship. Of course most of this is all in my head, but it's definitely stifling. Would I want to hang out with me if I were someone else?

I'm impatient. I'm ready now for something to happen. I'm facing the fact that a lot of people my age don't worry about such things, they have partners, wives, careers, kids, cars, homes, work friends, old buddies that come into town, on and on. I don't have any of that luxury.

Guh. This post is pretty sad. I'm not fishing for compliments or inspiring comments, just venting. I'm facing lonely weekend after lonely weekend and it's just eating me up a bit. I can be self-sufficient. I don't mind eating alone. I don't mind seeing movies or shows alone. I don't mind standing by myself, drinking coffee on the sidewalk alone. I don't mind sleeping alone. It would just be nice to have a change of pace. Because at this pace, things are starting to suck.

*

Sorry to be such a downer. I'm just having a shitty weekend. Readjusting and such.

m

A pro list.

Good things about my vacation (thus far or looking forward to):
Boulevard Wheat beer, I missed thee
Driving and singing loudly in the car. Specifically to The Mighty Rime and Okkervil River
Seeing my family
Seeing my friends
Eastside
Bum with a Dog
The Foundry Field Recordings playing 2 shows while I'm here
Nathan and I planning to set up in Marna's house with the plan to record some sort of E.P. or album (details forthcoming)
Christmas
Getting other non school related projects done
Drinking
Flat Branch food and spirits
Jimmy John's subs

that's it so far.

m

Oh Woe is Me, or On Fleeting.

I made it finally. To say the least, my flights into Columbia were miserable, but I'm just glad to be home.

To recap:
My flight from Portland to Denver was scheduled to leave at 6:20am. I awake Friday morning at 3:55 am in order to walk over to the Rose Quarter and get on the red line MAX to the airport. I arrive, around 5:00am-ish and the airport is a zoo. People were everywhere.

Luckily, I thought, the check in counter for my airline, Frontier, was relatively open. I wait in the small line and begin to hear mumblings of Flight 102 being canceled. Low and behold, my flight is flight 102. Shit. I go to the counter anyway to find out the scoop on my options. The lady informed me that I was booked for a 6:20am flight still, but only with Alaska Airlines, the airline that housed most of the people in the said zoo. Fuck. Faced with absolutely no options, I tightened my belt and got ready for the line.

I picked a random line, I admit. The sign above it said "Check In" and the Frontier lady told me that all I needed to do was check in. So I waited, and waited. 30 minutes passed and apparently I was in the wrong line all together. To make matters worse, the lady berated me for it. I don't think I've given a person such a nasty look and sarcastic sorry (that'll show her!). She tells me I have to wait in the Customer Service line (still not sure the distinction between the two lines). The Customer Service line was wrapped haphazardly near the door. My cell phone said it was 5:50 by now. I had 30 minutes to get to my flight, period. I don't think our hero is going to make it folks.

I waited in another line. This one taking much longer (now in reflection I realize the times I quoted most people that would actually LISTEN to this yarn were pretty wrong). I stood in that line until just after 7am only for the desk person (who was a lot nicer) to tell me that I had missed my flight and that they didn't have anything until 8:10 pm that evening. To top it off, I needed to arrange that through my old airline.

So I waited in another line, this one much shorter, and arranged my new flight plans. I had to options, fly out that night, sleep at the Denver aiport, get up and catch an early morning flight to Kansas City, or do it all on Saturday. I chose to fly out Friday night.

Another MAX ride back home with luggage in tow. The only bright spot in my day could have been the Whole Foods coffee and breakfast burrito, what would be my only meal of the day, but was very delicious. A lot of Best Show podcasts, tv shows and thank god I downloaded the Office, or I might have slit my wrist. I managed to squeeze in an hour nap, drink 3 High Lifes, and catch up with every person that expected me that night. Then it was back to the airport.

This time went pretty smoothly although I did get flagged for a random security check, which seemed to be the airline's way of really stressing their dislike for me. I stepped in this machine that sprayed 6 blasts of air all over me (the first, which I was not expecting made me jump, to the delight of the cat embroidered obese lady behind me who ran off her mouth a lot), then they swabbed everything in my bag, threw it in a machine which would apparently beep if I wasn't a terrorist and not beep if I was. It beeped and I got to put my shoes back on.

The flight was fine and I caught up on a lot of neglected reading. I had decided to wait until Denver to eat some food because a Starbucks scone sounded disgusting. The plane served me some really gross Rice Cracker mix that had a bunch of artificial colorings in it.

We touch down in Denver and I prepare myself for a night alone in an airport. I tried to recall what those kids in that Fez movie did in the previews for that Holiday movie coming out soon. Maybe I could ride the luggage turnstyle? Maybe I could make additions to the creepy mural they have about America featuring people in caskets. Or maybe I could just get a little toasty in one of their bars. None of the above occurred because everything was closed. The task of sleeping in an airport was daunting enough, but now I have to do it sober, and hungry?

I found my gate and set up camp. I paid the eight fucking dollars for WiFi which only lasted me maybe an hour because my battery lost charge. I opted for episodes of the State and the Office on my iPod from there on until my eyes couldn't stay open. I laid down on the ground with a large light directly before me. Every 15 minutes brought an ominous voice telling me that if I leave my luggage unattended, they are going to destroy it. I slept on my bag, with my peacoat on top of it and the strap of my bag wrapped around my body. Firmly clinching my cellphone set to alarm at 5am, I slept with my glasses on and my stocking cap pulled over my face.



I awoke, sore, to a man who also slept nearby, leaning against the arrival/departure monitors staring at me. I composed myself, took a lazer and headed to McDonald's knowing it was the only thing open by now.

After eating some disgusting egg and cheese sandwiches, I sat patiently for my flight to board. The flight was fine, I nodded off through most of it and I had my whole row of seats to myself. I was glad to arrive in Kansas City and see my mom.

Back in Columbia, I opted to not take a nap and instead go for a drive and then over to Jace's house to watch some tv and drink some beers. I stayed at Jace's for most of the evening with his wife Katie and Katie's mom Connie and we ate some pizza (thanks dudes!) and played some board game with the word Pickle in it. I lost.

Afterwards, we headed to Eastside Tavern where there was an art show and some bands were playing, one band of which was my friend David's band, Bum with a Dog. The art was awful, one showing including a dude's pen drawing of different baseball scenes of players and another included someone taking a page from the paper and applying minimal ink to it. Bad bad bad. Bum with a Dog killed and even covered the Ergs' "Books About Miles Davis" and dedicated it to me. I nearly jumped on the drums for the song, but decided that it might be in bad form and that I might sound like shit considering I haven't played drums in nearly 5 months. A "band" called This is my Condition played next, which consisted of a gent playing a drum set with a guitar placed across the snare and floor tom. He played both simultaneously and it was mind blowing. So fucking great. Unfortunately I had to leave midway through from sheer exhaustion.

******

I just got back from having some drinks with Nathan and his girlfriend Marna. I left midway through writing this, so if the writing is bad after the pictures, I deeply apologize; I've imbibed a few. Anyway, we had a nice time. Shakespeare's followed by some porch/living room action. We chatted it up and watched the This is my Condition DVD.

Tomorrow consists of much needed coffee and then some light Christmas shopping in which I will try to stretch the little money I have in order to appease my family (well, some of it. Most know that I'm too broke to buy anything for myself, let alone others, some just don't realize. Which is a story in itself...). And then? I don't know, there's talks of going out again. I have phone calls to make. The nice part about 3 weeks here is I get to see everyone I would want to see at least once. The bad part is, well, being away from home and possibly seeing people that I'm just getting to know. BUT, let's make the most of Columbia. Shall we?

m welch

You Don't Know Me. Yes I Do.

Sorry about the lack of update. I'm not sure who exactly I'm apologizing too, but I'm sure it's someone. So sorry anyway.

School has been rough; it's not a lie when I say that this is probably the hardest schooling I've ever experienced. Mostly just hard critiques and the complete inability to appease instructor. Blah, one more week, one more week of finals hell, but I can get through it. All in all though, I've learned a lot this term, so I guess I should be thankful.

So let's rewind.

Thanksgiving.


I had a great time. I was a little sad because I wasn't at home. Ever since I went veggie, the food portion of Thanksgiving didn't enthuse me, so it was quickly supplemented with being with friends and family. I made the best of my new situation and ate at Emilie's apartment here in Portland.

We had a great time! We went out and bought all the fixings; a Tofurkey, stuffing, potatoes, green beans, those crunchy onion things and of course wine and beer. Everything was unbelievably delicious. I was so full after it all:


Then we watched the rest of The OC season 3 and then started The Lord of the Rings before I passed out from Fake L-Typtophan and too many beers.

Since Thanksgiving, it's been somewhat crazy. A lot of school, a lot of ex-roommate drama and trying to afford anything remotely fun. Mostly school. Guh.

The Portland weather has been a little crazy. It rained for 3 weeks straight, without delay, then it snowed for about 20 minutes followed by more rain. Although for the past 2 weeks or so it's been fairly nice, albeit a little cold, but I'll take cold over rain (or the combo therein) anytime.

Sex Cells Records:

The label stuff has been going pretty well. We have a myspace, and the first record is all finished up except for mastering that is occurring in late January. After that, it just needs artwork (there's some good artists that might be working on this) and then off to the pressing plant. And then I guess I'll have to find places for CD's in my apartment. Still, it's all very exciting and I hope we can release some other stuff pretty soon after getting the Dead Mechanical stuff out the door.

Zine:

My idea for the zine took a wild turn. First off, the name is different and the whole concept is different. I'm going to keep pretty quiet about it until I start re-working things but I will say that this is all pretty intoxicating and I'm pretty fucking stoked. I plan to get working pretty hard on it when I'm back home.

Home!:

I'll be home here this coming Friday (the 15th) and I can't wait. I'm a little nervous to be away from Portland that long, 3 weeks in total, but I'm really excited to see everyone, catch an MU basketball game and I also plan to spend a few days with my (newly engaged!) brother in St. Louis.


Lastly:

I guess I don't have much more to say. I really hope to see a lot of people when I get back; I'm greatly excited by that idea. I feel like I'm missing out on so much, but I guess that's what comes when you move away. I feel very differently than I did before about my move. As things settled down here and when I established a routine and all of the fear and loneliness subsided, I really feel like I made the best decision to explore life outside of Columbia. I just don't care about things as obsessively, nor do I worry about the tiny minutia that goes on. I know longer care about who is with who, or running into some asshole. Being away from that stuff, even for just 5 months, has been really refreshing and it's really put things in perspective. I suggest everyone tries it.

m