Joycee factoid of the day: She's looking a little glum and gloomy today. What's a matta, Joycee, why you blue? Chipper up, buckaroo. In case you're wondering, no, Joycee does not read this blog.

current soundtrack:

Broke account, so I broke a sweat

I bought some things that I sort of regret about now

Broke your glasses, but it broke the ice

You said that I was an asshole and I'd pay the price

Broken hearts want broken necks

I said some things that I want to forget, but I can't

Broke my pace and ran out of time

Sometimes I'm so full of shit that it should be a crime

Broke a promise cause my car broke down

Such a classic excuse, it should be bronzed by now

Broke up, and I'm relieved somehow

It's the end of the discussions that just go round and round

And round and round and round and round and round and round . . . 

 - Modest Mouse - "Broke"

You know, when your being here today is premised on the illusional belief that you won't be here on this date, or this date, or that date in the future, it's not something you advertise. If I just accepted that I'm here for the long haul, that's when I realize that I've decided to take this reality on its face as reality, and therefore affirmatively not worth living. This reality to me is a playground of metaphor and symbolism to learn from, and I can arbitrarily choose when to leave it if the challenges I've set for myself are too hot to handle. 

People get funny with ideas like that. So here's this huge fiction I have to spin and present to the world. Fortunately, if I do decide to crash and burn again and get committed again, that's easily accomplished, too, because when your being here today is premised on the illusional belief that you won't be here on this date, or this date, or that date, funny signals get sent out irregardless. No surprises, yo'm sayin'?

current soundtrack: Throwing Muses - "The Real Ramona"

I need to go to bed

I need to go to sleep

I need that hope chest

I need it to breath

 - Throwing Muses - (Ellen West)

Stole this from Elizabeth, who stole this from Vincent, who probably stole it from somebody else:

Five CDs from your collection that you will never get tired of (but never is a pretty long time):
1. Genesis - The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway
2. Modest Mouse - The Lonesome Crowded West
3. Marillion - Clutching at Straws (re-master)
4. Southern All-Stars - Yeah!!!!!
5. Tom Waits - Frank's Wild Years (you can get drunk just listening to this CD!)

Five vacations you have taken:
1. Tokyo, Japan, to visit Shiho
2. Tokyo, Japan, to visit Madoka
3. Taipei, Taiwan, to visit Josephine
4. refugee camp on the Thai-Burma border, believe it or not (It was work for Madoka, I was just tagging along so it was vacation for me)
5. I need to take more vacations

Five things you'd like to learn:
1. Japanese (hahaha, OK, only I got that one)
2. the meaning of life
3. how to cook
4. HTML
5. the meaning of my life

Five Places you just have to go:
1. Scotland, my ancestral home (OK, I didn't even get that one)
2. Anywhere Madoka is
3. World Trade Center site
4. Amoeba
5. home (once I find it)

Five beverages you drink frequently:
1. Scotch
2. Bourbon
3. Gin
4. Vodka
5. Tequila
(in that order)

Five tv shows that were on when you were a kid:
1. Bugs Bunny & Friends
2. Dukes of Hazzard (Making their way the only way they know how/But that's just a little bit more than the law will allow) I'm gonna have that song in my head all day now.
3. Star Trek (original series re-runs)
4. Cosmos
5. The Six Million Dollar Man

Five tv shows you watch now:
1. Northern Exposure (all on tape)
2. The Simpsons
3. Malcolm in the Middle
4. Buffy the Vampire Slayer
5. Blind-Date

Five places to go in your area:
1. Amoeba
2. the Mission
3. Santa Cruz mountains (star-gazing)
4. Golden Gate Park to the Pacific O
5. The Headlands

Five things to do when you're bored:
1. ride bike
2. go to Amoeba
3. play gee-tar or bass with the tv on
4. blog surf
5. you really don't want to know number 5

Five things that never fail to cheer you up:
1. Music (cheer up is relative)
2. Smiles (especially on children)
3. sunlight/warm temperatures
4. katie (but only when she's around)
5. exacto knives

More "Does Someone Sit Around All Day and Think This Shit Up?":

1. HOW DO YOU GET HOLY WATER?
   You boil the hell out of it.
   
2. WHAT DO FISH SAY WHEN THEY HIT A CONCRETE WALL?
   Dam!
   
3. WHAT DO ESKIMOS GET FROM SITTING ON THE ICE TOO LONG?
   Polaroids.
   
4. WHAT DO YOU CALL A BOOMERANG THAT DOESN’T WORK?
   A stick.
   
5. WHAT DO YOU CALL CHEESE THAT ISN’T YOURS?
   Nacho Cheese.
   
6. WHAT DO YOU CALL SANTA’S HELPERS?
   Subordinate Clauses.
   
7. WHAT DO YOU CALL FOUR BULLFIGHTERS IN QUICKSAND?
   Quattro Sinko.
   
8. WHAT DO YOU GET FROM A PAMPERED COW?
   Spoiled milk.
   
9. WHAT DO YOU GET WHEN YOU CROSS A SNOWMAN WITH A VAMPIRE?
   Frostbite.
   
10. WHAT LIES AT THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN AND TWITCHES?
    A nervous wreck.
    
11. WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ROAST BEEF AND PEA SOUP?
    Anyone can roast beef.
    
12. WHERE DO YOU FIND A DOG WITH NO LEGS?
    Right where you left him.
    
13. WHY DO GORILLAS HAVE BIG NOSTRILS?
    Because they have big fingers.
    
14. WHY DON’T BLIND PEOPLE LIKE TO SKY DIVE?
    Because it scares the hell out of the dog.
    
15. WHAT KIND OF COFFEE WAS SERVED ON THE TITANIC?
    Sanka.
    
16. WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A HARLEY AND A HOOVER?
    The location of the dirt bag.
    
17. WHY DO A PILGRIM’S PANTS ALWAYS FALL DOWN?
    Because he’s wearing his belt buckle on his hat.
    
18. WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A BAD GOLFER AND A BAD SKYDIVER?
    A bad golfer goes whack, “damn.” A bad skydiver goes “damn,” whack.
    
19. HOW DO YOU CATCH A UNIQUE RABBIT?
    Unique up on it.
    
20. HOW DO YOU CATCH A TAME RABBIT?
    Tame way, unique up on it.
    
21. WHAT DO YOU CALL SKYDIVING LAWYERS?
    Skeet.
    
22. WHAT GOES CLOP, CLOP, CLOP, BANG, BANG, CLOP, CLOP, CLOP?
    An Amish Drive-By Shooting.
    
23. HOW ARE A TEXAS TORNADO AND A TENNESSEE DIVORCE THE SAME?
    Somebody’s gonna lose a trailer.

Insight into my personality: My faves are #19 & #20!

Joycee factoid of the day: Paid for her party mix at Walgreens because I felt sorry that she only had like $3 on her.

If your past is so painful that you want to forget it, would you if you could?
The film 'Nabi' (Butterfly), from Korea, at the As-Am film fest was surprisingly good. It's set in the future, when some environmental calamity has become a reality, and a virus spreads in Korea by luminescent butterflies which erases the memory of those afflicted.

The result: a tourist industry is created for people who want to catch the virus to forget their painful memories. A lot of humanity is lost in this environment, but shards inevitably remain on individuals, clawing to come out, only to be forgotten by some, remembered by others. It's a dark film, maybe that's why I liked it

current soundtrack: electronic hum of my computer and monitor; muffled voices through the wall (I guess they're done having sex); and water pipes.

Joycee factoid of the day: Today it's Wavy-Hair Joycee (took shower last night instead of this morning apparently). Lookin' good, Joycee.

Le Tigre ROCKED Great American Music Hall today. I caught the first of two consecutive sold-out shows today and it was so much fun. Exciting. And considering that 80-90% of the audience were female, rocking out, punking out, dancing, pulsating, grinding, as close to moshing as I've seen in a good 5-6 years, I might even be able to say I got some tonight! Just kidding, I won't even venture to guess what percentage of that 80-90 were dykes. But I will say, and only because I have dyke friends who'd agree . . . bull-dykes are scary! Nothing against bull-dykes, it's just that in that situation, I could've gotten hurt! And getting smacked in the mouth with a punk-dyke's blue dreadlock was super gross.

Can't do it not even if sober 

Can't get that engine turned over

 Modest Mouse - "Cowboy Dan"

On Confluence: n. 1: a coming or flowing together, meeting, or gathering at one point.

It's always at the Asian American film festival that I run into old friends and acquaintances, people whose radar screens I've dropped off of, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. If I've fallen off with someone, no prob, I'll probably run into them at some AA film festival (not to be confused with the Al. Anon. film festival, in which I've probably starred in several films. j/k). Part of me dreads it because it is just as possible that I'll run into someone I'd be happier not knowing existed. The funny thing is . . . it's not always at the festival that I run into them.

Cianna:
Last night I went to see "Harmful Insect", from Japan, and I got to the theater, locked my bike, was groovin' along to Modest Mouse, ignoring my surroundings, and I get to the entrance and the person I'm passing pokes me in the gut.

"It's Cianna," she yells as I take my headphones off.

She is the beautiful kind of human being who is always modest and doesn't assume I remember or recognize her. I didn't recognize her for a few seconds, but I certainly remember her. She is one of the most remarkable people I've had the honor of knowing. People who are incredibly selfless, put their energy into doing work that helps other people, intelligent, brilliantly creative . . . people who enrich your life just because of the calibre of human being they are.

It's not like we're going to hang out or anything, but I got her card, telling her, "We aren't in constant contact, but I would like to know where you are." Told her she looked great, gave her a big hug.

She poked me in the stomach as I walked by, how cute is that?

Anita:
This afternoon, no film festival-going. Anita is the reason I have my job. Anita and I had been friends for several years here, but she was best friends with Ritu for a longer time, I don't even know if it's right to call them "friends". They were more like sisters; love-hate.

When Ritu got a job out here and was looking to hire assistants, Anita referred me. The firm didn't want to hire me because of my education, but Ritu threatened HR to hire me. Threatened? Well, if you knew Ritu . . . yea.

When Ritu died, Anita and I fell out of contact. There was tension, but it was an unsaid thing, nothing happened. Just a string of answering machine messages that didn't get answered and then silence.

Several months ago, around the anniversary of Ritu's death, Anita called and left a message, but I didn't feel comfortable answering. But it was enough of a gesture that when I moved in December, she was on the e-mail list telling people of my new contact info.

So today. Jordan called me to go on a bike ride and I decided to go since I hadn't seen him since the lay-offs. But I didn't want to go long since the weather reported rain in the afternoon and I hate, I HATE, I HATE riding in the rain (think wet cat).

But as we (Jordan, two other people, and me) rode and decided along the way where to go next, the weather just got better and better. We ended up going long, crossing the GG Bridge and riding into the Headlands.

By the time we were heading back, deciding to go to Clement St. to get some food, I was feeling that I needed to get home and working on music. So when we got to Clement St., I told them I was taking off.

The problem was among four bikes, we only had two locks. So I donated my lock and told them to get it back to me later. So I took off lockless, realizing that I also needed food, but I couldn't stop anywhere because I couldn't lock my bike. BUT, there's a burger stand on 18th and South Van Ness, right near where I live, that I've always noticed but never went to, where I wouldn't have to lock my bike.

So I go there, and I'm standing on line and see someone sitting at one of the outside tables and catch glances with her. I didn't recognize her, but it's one of those glances where you might not recognize the other person, but you just sense a familiarity. You know what I'm talking about, I know you do.

At the third glance, we're sure of who we are. It's Anita. So we chat a bit, she has to run to a belly dancing class, but she says, "You look great", which made me hold pause because that's exactly what I said to Cianna last night, I couldn't even respond to Anita, I just gave a puzzled look. It was odd.

Northern Exposure quote of the day:
Ed: Suicide's not the Indian way.
Shelley: It's not?
Ed: Don't go where you're not invited, you know what I mean?

current soundtrack: Rilo Kiley - "Take Offs and Landings"

Most Recent Funny Thing I Do to Alleviate the Boredom:
When there are three people on an e-mail chain (one sending, two receiving), and at some point one of them sends back a message forgetting to cc the other person, hit the reply button, add the third person back on, re-write or doctor the 2nd person's message making it say something inflammatory about the third person (or otherwise ridiculous), then write a response to the fake message (either confirming it or defending the second person - either way, it's the third person who'll have to defend him/herself). Hit send. Chuckle mischievously.

I guess I should illustrate:
Eric to Theresa and Koji: Any word on this?
Koji to Theresa and Eric: I sent drafts to T last week. T?
Eric to Koji: I hope there was no unintended inference in my earlier email which might cause one to believe that an eagerness exists on my part to receive current NC ads and resume casework in that dreadful state. For it shouldn’t be; I’m not; and NC is. Thank you for your time.
Doctor E's message to say: Thanks K, you know how eager I am to file cases as that will not only help the team look good, but it is also beneficial to the firm, for which my loyalty is unwavering. And hey, doing a good job also makes me feel better about myself. Please let me know when the ads come in, and if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.
Koji to Theresa and Eric (with doctored message now in the chain): My pleasure, E. And ditto, my friend, ditto.

It's even better when the second party is your boss.

Joycee factoid of the day: Hit herself on the head with a green file folder by accident. She's OK.

This just in: *yawn*

I Will Take my own life!. After going through with your own well thought out version of columbine you finally turn the gun on yourself... the thick coat of brains and coagulated blood was a bitch to get off the auditorium wall. You sure showed them! Find out how you will die, Take the Death Quiz now! Hey, I just take 'em, I don't make 'em.

One of these days I'm going to have to get motivated and start working again. I mean really working. The way it is now, my days of blogging, e-mailing, surfing, and socializing are punctuated by breaks in which I get some work done.

But, goddam, I was sitting in my cube today looking around at it and thinking, holy cow, this is hell. Can I imagine doing this for another year? How about the rest of my life? How about friggin' ETERNITY???? H-E-L-L (and believe me, this afternoon felt like eternity.)

But I think my lack of motivation is affected by boss-lady, who's an awesome boss, and when her shit gets smoothed out, work might normalize. Or our whole team might get canned. Except Ms. Case Manager since she thrives in places like this. I didn't need to write that, that was mean.

You know, changing the subject, I sometimes look at what I write and wonder if I'm depressed. Alright, maybe someone who knows more about it would read this and say, "you think?", but I have a hard time identifying a feeling as depression. Sometime during my upbringing, I started channeling the feeling which for everyone else was depression into anger (mostly towards the 'rents).

I don't know where I learned to do that, it was just automatic. It was only in college when I was placed in a situation where I couldn't channel it that I got my first taste of depression and was surprised when I identified it as such. I don't think I'm depressed, but I'm not really qualified, even by experience, to make that assessment.

Joycee factoid of the day: Left work early to go to physical therapy to help fix her ankle so that she can injure it again snowboarding this weekend.

current soundtrack: Marillion - "Clutching at Straws"

And the only sign of life is the ticking of the pen
Introducing characters to memory like old friends
Frantic as the cardiograph, scratching out the lines
In a fever of confession, a catalogue of crime in happy hour
Do you cry in happy hour, do you hide in happy hour
A pilgrimage to happy hour
- "Hotel Hobbies" - Marillion

Now I understand how I can have S.A.D. and still not want to exist on a gorgeous sunny day like this past Sunday. Because on a cruddy rainy day like today, I feel like ripping veins out of my arm. Ew, gross, ouch. Maybe not.

But I do feel the suppression or compression of emotions and notice distortions, possibly imaginary, at the edge of my field of vision. Actually, that and the ripping veins out part. God, I wish I took drugs.

current soundtrack: 764-HERO - "Nobody Knows This is Everywhere"

I am an Asteroid. I am a drifter. I go where life leads, which makes me usually a very calm and content sort of person. That or thoroughly apathetic. Usually I keep on doing whatever I'm doing, and it takes something special to make me change my mind. What Video Game Character Are You?

Pretty good, I hated video games growing up . . . except Asteroids!!

Just finished lunch from Jack in the Box. Now I feel like I need a shower.

Joycee factoid of the day: Annoyed upon learning that I have a "Joycee factoid of the day". She was really flattered. I could tell.

It rained this morning so I had to take the Muni like all the other commuter schleps. I swear this city has the only public transportation system that recruits drivers from mental wards.

current soundtrack: Fugazi - "The Argument"

I don't know if this is something off the web, or if the person who sent the e-mail sits around all day making this shit up:

FW: Increase your vocabulary. Learn a new word each day:

• Arbitrator: A cook that leaves Arby's to work at McDonald's.
  
• Avoidable: What a bullfighter tries to do.
  
• Baloney: Where some hemlines fall.
  
• Bernadette: The act of torching a mortgage.
  
• Burglarize: What a crook sees with.
  
• Control: A short, ugly inmate.
  
• Counterfeiters: Workers who put together kitchen cabinets.
  
• Eclipse: what an English barber does for a living.
  
• Eyedropper: a clumsy ophthalmologist.
  
• Heroes: what a guy in a boat does.
  
• Left Bank: what the robber did when his bag was full of loot.
  
• Misty: How golfers create divots.
  
• Paradox: two physicians.
  
• Parasites: what you see from the top of the Eiffel Tower.
  
• Pharmacist: a helper on the farm.
  
• Polarize: what penguins see with.
  
• Primate: removing your spouse from in front of the TV.
  
• Relief: what trees do in the spring.
  
• Rubberneck: what you do to relax your wife.
  
• Seamstress: describes 250 pounds in a size six.
  
• Selfish: what the owner of a seafood store does.
  
• Subdued: like, a guy who, like, works on one of those, you know, submarines, man.
  
• Sudafed: bringing litigation against a government official.
  

("Sub-dude", huh-huh, huh-huh)

hm, OK, these are better (though not by much):

1. Energizer Bunny arrested; charged with battery.
   
2. A man's home is his castle, in a manor of speaking.
   
3. A pessimist's blood type is always b-negative.
   
4. My wife really likes to make pottery, but to me it's just kiln time.
   
5. Dijon vu: the same mustard as before.
   
6. Practice safe eating: always use condiments.
   
7. I fired my masseuse today. She just rubbed me the wrong way.
   
8. A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.
   
9. I used to work in a blanket factory, but it folded.
   
10. I used to be a lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it, so they gave me the ax.
    
11. If electricity comes from electrons, does that mean that morality comes from morons?
    
12. A man needs a mistress just to break the monogamy.
    
13. Marriage is the mourning after, knot before.
    
14. A hangover is the wrath of grapes.
    
15. Corduroy pillows are making headlines.
    
16. Is a book on voyeurism a peeping tome?
    
17. Dancing cheek-to-cheek is really a form of floor play.
    
18. Banning the bra was a big flop.
    
19. Sea captains don't like crew cuts.
    
20. Does the name Pavlov ring a bell?
    
21. A successful diet is the triumph of mind over platter.
    
22. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
    
23. A gossip is someone with a great sense of rumor.
    
24. Without geometry, life is pointless.
    
25. When you dream in color, it's a pigment of your imagination.
    
26. Condoms should be used on every conceivable occasion.
    
27. Reading whilst sunbathing makes you well-red.
    
28. When two egotists meet, it's an I for an I.

Joycee factoid of the day: Joycee's not here, man.

Final thoughts of the day: 

I just got back from a "rehearsal" with Lisa, it was just the two of us. We jammed, went through some old stuff, came up with some new stuff. It wasn't great, it wasn't terrible. It was OK, it wasn't bad. It just put me into thought. I don't know what I'm doing with music. 

Am I seriously going to give up music at the end of the month if I don't come up with three songs? 

The goal in life, whether it's by making money, finding the perfect relationship, having a satisfying career, etc., is to reach the end of our lives and not look back with regret; to have some comfort (I'm not sure if that's the right word) closure (that's closer to the right word) in how we've spent our time here, in what we've accomplished. 

So would it be a disaster if I gave up music? Would I, at the end of my life, look back in dissatisfaction for not having been in a band? Hardly. Music is a passion, I love doing it, but it's not going to give me the clarity I seek in this lifetime. It's material, and I think I get just as much satisfaction, perhaps more, out of just finding new great music, and listening to it and feeling and relating to the emotion expressed in it. If I can't express myself in my own way, I have no problem with that, I don't have that kind of ego drive. 

Since I met up with that Sikh last month, I have been sitting for 15 minutes every morning as he hinted at. I've also started sitting for 15 minutes after coming home many days. 15 minutes is easy. In college and after I was constantly pushing the time longer and longer, and that was hard. I don't need to push it if it's going to discourage and stop me from doing it – 15 minutes twice a day is just fine. 

The effect has been sublime, deeply internal, but I know there's been some effect. Maybe it has helped center or balance me, but it puts me at ease with my self-destruction, because if I self-destruct, that's being true to myself, and that allows me, at the end of my life, to look back and have no regrets about how I've spent my life here. 

If I'm ailing at age 83, about to die, and look back to the past 50 years that I forced myself to live, just for the sake of surviving, what satisfaction or comfort can I take in that? (We live for just these twenty years/Do we have to die for the fifty more? - D. Bowie "Young Americans") 

I don't think there is a relation between stopping music and self-destructing, it's not that simple an equation. The only relation is that whatever I do, whether it be stopping music, continuing music, self-destructing, or continuing, I'd better make sure I'm doing it for the right reason. I don't like my life, I don't like what I've done with it, but if this were my last day alive, I'm satisfied with how I've spent my time here, because for all my unsuccesses, self-destruction, and failures, I feel I've been true to my nature. And ultimately, there's not a failure in that. 

current soundtrack: Genesis - . . . And Then There Were Three . . .

I thought I was lucky

I thought that I'd got it made 

How could I be so blind? 

- "Many Too Many"

Joycee factoid of the day: Joycee now has a row of *five* M&M guys lined up on her cube wall. They're actually kind of cute. 

Northern Exposure Quote of the Day: 

Joel: Do you believe in spirits? 

Ed: Oh yea, but even if I didn't, they wouldn't care 

- During Joel's vision quest 

current soundtrack: Death Cab for Cutie - We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes

So, I'm just starting to get back into the swing of things at work, and I've filed for the first time in two months. I wonder if anyone notices that I hadn't filed since one of my teammates got promoted to Case Manager . . .

"What does that promotion mean?", I hear you ask?

It means that there is another level of review between me and my work, and my real boss, the attorney, who trusted that I do things intelligently and for a reason. As opposed to Ms. Case Manager who is going strictly by the book and therefore puts no independent thought in, and allows no independent thought by us. It's been degrading and demoralizing and has emphasized what a meaningless job this is.

I look at it as a little game now: (just a sample)

1. I enter education dates on the forms as provided by the client, assuming he or she knows what his or her dates of school attendance were.
   
2. Ms. Case Manager changes the dates according to transcripts and diplomas.
   
3. Real boss signs off and the drafts go to the client for review.
   
4. Client writes back, saying the education dates are wrong, and indicates the right dates (believe it or not, they are the same dates that I initially indicated!).
   
5. I change the dates back and finalize the forms.
   
6. Real boss signs off and the forms go out for signature.
   

I'm a corporate WHORE!! Give it to me, baby, oh yes, yes, harder harder!!

current soundtrack: "Nothingman" - Pearl Jam (at least we can still listen to music at work)

My life has become as pathetic as Paul Simon playing electric guitar. I'm sorry, I'm watching the Concert in Central Park on PBS, and don't get me wrong, I'm riveted, but Paul Simon playing electric guitar? Why? If you're going to play it like an acoustic guitar, just stick with the acoustic.

Now the years are rolling by me, they are rocking evenly

I am older than I once was - younger than I'll be, but that's not unusual

No it isn't strange after changes upon changes we are more or less the same

After changes we are more or less the same 

"The Boxer" (Concert In Central Park version) - Simon & Garfunkel

Noise Pop: Bottom of the Hill
Great? Amazing? Splendiferous? Jolly good? Faboo? No, give it up. Words cannot convey the exquisite euphoria of the Versus show at a packed Bottom of the Hill.

It didn't seem that the band planned to do encores, and would have been happy to leave the stage and let the band slip back into dormancy at the end of their set. So it may have come as a surprise to some when the audience demanded an encore and seemed intent on not leaving until the band graced the stage again. A rare occurrence in times when bands only do encores that are planned, and when audiences are trained to leave when house lights and sound come up.

Set list:

1. Unknown (new one? for a possible new album? I'm holding my breath!)

2. Crazy-Maker (I'm Still in Love with Your Eyes) (short version with no drums, Pat Ramos played mouth organ)

3. My Adidas

4. Raining

5. River

6. Mirror, Mirror

7. Blade of Grass

8. You'll Be Sorry

9. Shangri-La

10. Jealous

11. Morning Glory

12. Double Suicide (Mercy Killing) (<-this is for all the couples out there)

13. Spastic Reaction

14. Linus

On Retiring:
I hate all these news reports on TV about retirement and long-term life planning and having a nest egg at retirement. They crunch numbers, calculate years and show percentages, and present depressing conclusions.

I never plan to be there, these are things that don't concern me. But there's a feeling in me, a twinge, I think it's located in the thinnest, outer-most layer of my skin, that reacts to these reports and instinctively looks at my position and considers where I fit in with these numbers and statistics and percentages. Am I safe? Am I saving enough for a nest egg at retirement? But no, I'm not going there.

I guess that's human, though, the survival instinct. Just because I have a survival instinct, doesn't mean I intend to survive. And I've been through all the arguments, this isn't angst and this isn't lightly stated, and everybody who has broached the subject in the last who-knows-however-many-years has brought nothing new to the table.

I'm just of real sad folk and
'85 was our best year and
she says it gets much worse before
it gets any better
so I take it with a grain of salt
for the other means I
wonder why it doesn't keep her up at night
like it does me
-Rilo Kiley ('85)