Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Music: Hunky Dory - David Bowie

I am seriously thinking about taking up an offer to live in Los Angeles. It'll give me the chance to get a new library card, and to meet new people. The opportunity arrives from somebody I've been e-buddies with for years through Livejournal and Myspace, each conversation consisted of me, without shame, confessing my internet love for her.

The idea came up when her current roommate (who, ironically, is from Boston) was going to move back East. There is now a chance that he will be staying, but if he does they want to move into a new place with three bedrooms. I fit in the equation regardless, and I can't see myself passing it up.

At my age, during this period of my life, it is the best change I can make. I will be able to take classes out in CA, just the same as I would if I were to stay where I am now. I'll also be able to say I've lived in Boston, Las Vegas, and Los Angeles. The only logical progression from there would be to London.

The desert life is burnt out for me. I've had my cds stolen by an asian lover, I've had sex in a stolen car, I've been engaged, I've played daddy, I've been court tried.

There's no telling if the change will be permanent, but I can't see any place I live being permanent right now. I do know that if I start school out there, it'll mean that I plan on staying for a long while. There's no telling who I'll meet, or what'll happen from there.

I can see that there is an incredible group of people awaiting me in LA. Looking back at my first entry in this blog, it seems as though the last couple months have been building up to this.

I can saw a woman in two,

Music: "Life'll Kill Ya" - Warren Zevon (Album) / Ron & Fez
Drink: Arbor Mist




Thankfully the weekend is here. The last couple nights of work have been terrible, with my mind stuck on subjects that shouldn't be elaborated upon on the internet. Don't take it personally, it's not as if I am keeping secrets from you, these are just overly depressing topics that are not ready for blogging copyright. This isn't "I can't grow a beard, bleh" or "I wish I could speak a foreign language, bleh"... this is more along the lines of "The bomb really went off in Heroes, bleh".

But the time will come when I will be able to write in depth about it- whether it be because my drunk science fiction twin stumbles upon a keyboard, or because I finally discovered another person's stance and involvement in the situation.

In somewhat related news, I made an appearance on the Jim & Them radio podcast. It was recorded last Monday, and will be available online within' the next week. I came on to discuss my time spent in the slammer. We did a great job of making the entire experience hilarious, while maintaining the true horror of the three days. I'll post a link once the show is made available.

January 16, 2004.
I was thinking about the night Ricky, the closest friend I'll ever have, and I decided to take a train to North Attleboro in hopes of women. This story takes place in the outskirts of Boston, MA. For those who aren't familiar with the area- Rockland (my then home) and North Attleboro are fifty miles from one another.

We went to the house of a friend of his- an asian girl named Melissa, where she was with her friend Brandy. I remember watching Day Of The Dead and pretending that a 'movie fest' was the reason we were all there. It all took place in her basement, and it was the first time I ever saw an organ in person. Before that I thought the organ was a flute/recorder/ocarena type instrument (based solely on its name). "Where do you blow?" was a question met with confused laughs.

We got there on a freezing, snowy night... but we were all teenagers (Brandy being much younger than I thought) so of course we had to sneak by the asian mother. On more than one occasion Ricky and I were hidden in a closet, shivering and giggling like young, cold criminals.

The sleeping arrangements were: Ricky & Melissa on the couch, Brandy & I on the nearby bed. I was very interested in Brandy, and apparently she thought I was less annoying than most people as well. I did not know at the time just how inexperienced she was- I just knew she had recently broken up with a boy. I remember the odd side positioning that we attempted in order to stay discreet, and the nerves of steel we both had. Her for being physical for the first time with a basic stranger in her militaristic asian friend's mother's basement along her friend on the couch feet away. Me just because the last thing.

Ricky and I were kicked out into the freezing morning at around 5:00am. It took two cab rides and multiple trains to save our lives that night. I remember writing my phone number for Brandy on an Altoids case- though we didn't talk or see eachother again for many months. We still talk these days, and type over visiting each other, though the lack of money keeps it unlikely. We've hung out only once in the years since then, a Gilmore Girls night spent with some of her friends. One of her female friends actually assaulted me that night. I wasn't an easy boy to meet back then.

Ricky and I shared four years of lifelong memories as best friends. I definitely hope to fly back to MA and visit him as soon as I can afford it. He is well missed.

This is basically a small update of an entry. I'm still a man of good health, bad wealth, and a depressing, dull forty-eight hours. Hopefully tonight's combination of Knocked Up and Appletinis will provide a more positive night.

To keep some theme to this post- Let It Be has been in constant rotation lately.

With that, I leave you with a song from the album recorded live on rooftop, followed by a favorite quote about me.

I chose this song, because as a woman was crying her eyes out to me a couple of a months ago, she belted out the title and chorus a couple of times. She then proceeded to let me down.

ssix --- siq (8:37:08 AM): You were like
ssix --- siq (8:37:28 AM): Because the wine wouldn't open or whatever you go "Well we have to get use to eachother on a sober level then." and you grabbed my hand