I dont know what the hell is wrong with me.

I have been stuck in a funk for a while now. I honestly can not figure out why. But something about today, I felt completely (absolutely) alone for the first time in my life.

I watched I heart Huckabees tonight and that helped a little, but then I watched the second half of Terminator 2 on TV, and it made me feel depressed, which sucks cuz I love that fuckin flick.

I just havent met anyone down here that I can completely relate to. I thought I did, but then it turned out, not so much. I sit in my room when I'm not at work, which bums me out. So I go outside to do something, and it bums me out because Im tired of doing things without any company.

Luckily, Im too broke to start drinking all of the time again. Unfortunately, Im too broke to smoke pot all of the time, which at this current phase of my life, would be helpful, I think (Look at that "proper" sentence).

I just wish I could figure out whats going on...

I'm also smoking more than I ever have in my life, which bothers me constantly.
I want to create things and work on things but my motivation and confidence is non-existent.

I feel like a tool spouting out all of this shit out to the internet, but i guess this is what my life is now. I guess my current problem is that I am just having problems coming to terms with that.


PS. This would be the perfect post for all of those EMO kids to take revenge on me.

Holy craps do i miss the company of women.

As much as they piss me off, I miss the attention. I feel generally bored with life these days. Numb mixed with general annoyance.

Innerspace starring Martin Short and Dennis Quaid is why movies were invented.

Lord Bearded came for a week long vacation to my house where we got right back into the swing of what we do best: Drinking, smoking, farting, laughing and sleeping. I love that man. I have 5 empty boxes of Tecate in my room. Thats 30 packs. And 2 18 packs. All are empty.

Has anyone noticed that we are in our mid-20's? Woops!

Masters of Reality's first album kicks major anal.

Crazy people are awesome. I live around nothing but crazies.

Staples sux ass.

Water Coolers are the best invention ever.

Does your dick get bigger when you aren't fetching very much tail?

Whats the point?

So, it's finally time to get this shit put down. MONTHS after the fact, I finally retrieved the files from my parent's computer, as I had forgotten my camera during the monolithic, epic, famous journey down to the heart of California for Mr. Jeryl's wedding. Now, it's been awhile and the details aren't as crisp as I'd like, but here's how I remember it:

I take Friday off. As does Eli. He arrives at my house early. We throw our shit in the car, say a few prayers to the patron saints of freeways and young men and hit the road. We drove across town, picked up Kim and her cousin. The drive down to Ashland is uneventful. I've driven Oregon's stretch of Interstate 5 so much that it's autopilot. It's also fun to drive fast as hell through some of the less-populated areas. Really. We all shared some laughs and some good music. We hit Talent and stop by the parent's house. My parents built some hamburgers for us and we chow down. We all stand on my parent's deck and watch some cows fuck in the pasture by the house. Everyone giggles. I'll never outgrow the humour of bovine sex. Then, we got back in the car and drove our asses across the border, into the dark state that is California.

We drop Kim and the cousin in Redding. It's mid afternoon at this point. Eli and continue to cut through the heart of California. We drove by Vallejo. E-40 is from Vallejo. Gangster, son, gangster. We drove by people fishing in irrigation ditches. We drove by ugly people who gave us dirty looks. Fucking California. We bob and weave, highway by highway to the coastlands.

At one point, my car starts making the sound that it makes when the blinker is on -- the relay trip sound -- it starts happening randomly. The lights don't flash, but that sound happens fast, almost like i have a burned out bulb. I wouldn't even be signaling and that sound would randomly start, go for awhile and then stop. On the annoying-as-shit scale, it was a step below the VW on Little Miss Sunshine that had the horn issue. Hours of this shit. Even with loud music, it could be heard. We continue to drive and laugh.

By this time, it's late. Unbeknownst to us, i had forgotten to write a step in the instructions (i had to write them out, as my home printer, um, doesn't exist). We hit the 'home stretch' to Rohnert park, according to the directions. In reality, we still had like 30 miles on this highway. Fuck. Eli has to pee, but we're so close to being there, he holds it. Twenty minutes later, he's almost bursting at the seams. We pull over and he pisses behind an 18 wheeler for what seemed like 11 minutes. He wanted me to turn the car around so he could see the puddle in the headlights, but I refused. I was so fucking OVER driving that I was willing to turn down an eyefull of piss stain. Like 14 hours of driving. Fuck that shit.

We arrive at the cheapest hotel I could find. $80. We eat some shitty IHOP and buy some whiskey at a convenience store (fuck yes!). We head back to the room, drink some whiskey and iron our clothes for the next day. Eventually SLEDG shows up. He cools off and drinks some whiskey while I iron his shirt, because I'm just that kind of friend. We talk into the wee-hours of the night. Sledg slept on the floor. Eli and I shared a queen-sized bed. Hot.

We wake in the morning, get cleaned up. Watch Sledg's thesis on his sweet computer. Partake in the continental breakfast -- generic cornflakes, milk and prepackaged butterhorns. Yee-haw. We grab handfuls and hit the road. The country-ish roads between Rohnert Park and the coast were nice -- a part of California that I've never seen. There were a shitton of bicyclists on the roads. I hold such a deep hostility towards bicyclists who are totally oblivious to traffic. We saw one such person sprawled out on the side of the road, other bicyclists swarming about to assist. As we drove even further away, we passed 3 cop cars and an ambulance heading in their direction. It was kind of sad. On the other hand, I've always wondered how many accidents asshole bicyclists cause every year ...

We arrive in the town of Bodega. It's perched on the side of a fucking seashore cliff. There were a few gas stations, a fucking taffy shop, some restaurants and bunch of shops that I can only assume sells that inoffensive, bulshitty tourist fodder -- clever mirrors, hi-tech birdhouses, hand-painted wood saws, etc. We make our way across the town to the gardens where the wedding is to be held, without issue ... except for the fact that we're about 2.5 hours early. What the fuck were we going to do for that long?

I'll tell you what we'll do, we'll hang out in the parking lot, drink the remainder of last night's whiskey and listen to Michael Jackson's Thriller. A few more people show up. They drink some of our whiskey too. Before we know it, the bottle is nearly done and PYT has just played for a third time. The wedding is about to start. We head in.

The family is there, everyone looks wonderful. The gardens are beautiful -- The location is totally superb. We sit down and wait for things to start. Before long, they start making their way down the isle. Darla's older brother married them. The ceremony was wonderful, sincere and quick -- no longer than 10 minutes. Then, the festivities began -- food, drink and dance. Great music. Smiles all around. I really don't have much else to say except that it was probably the most perfect wedding that I've been to. After hours of laugher and smiles, we start to sober up and eventually, decide to hit the road. Our mini-hangovers kicking in, we decide to make our way back to Oregon, my car still making the intermittent blinker sound.

Eli and I do a marathon run back to the border, only stopping to piss and drink some fluids. As we watch the fields turn to hills, it starts raining as we cross the Oregon border. How appropriate. We pull in to Ashland just around midnight. We both catch a little sleep and some food before making the last little bit back to Portland. All in all, we spent around around 24 hours in my car in the 72 hour span. Fuck.

What a wonderful weekend. I shant be forgetting the trip, the wedding or the unmistakable bond between the Jumpfighters. I love you all.

I moved again. Jesus, I feel like I'm always moving. Gross. Seven months in the little "dorm room" of a studio I called mine is now done. I will be living in a house with four other people (dear God, FOUR people? Will I be able to handle it??) in SE. It's actually pretty nice. Or, it will be nice, once the owner finished all the work she's doing. We get to start residing in it Nov 1st. Until then, I am living with my friend Selena. She just moved into the swanky Civic in SW, and hasn't furnished it yet, so there's p-l-e-n-t-y of room for my stuff. But not all of it. So some is at Michelle's, some is at Laura's, some is at Erin's, and the everyday necessaries are at Selena's with me. Seriously, I feel like a fucking hobo. My shit is in plastic trash bags and everything. Classy as fuck.

Life shifted again, this time in perfect timing with the weather shifting. My wonderful, fun, exciting, relaxing, comfortable, happy relationship came to a screeching halt. His official reason was "it's too complicated" and he "just couldn't deal with it."

Background: He and I have been very very close friends for six years now, know everything about each other, support each other through the hardest times. He also happens to be friends with/play in the band with/live with the EX. Keep in mind that He and I have a history that extends waaaay before I even knew who the EX was. However, as the EX is prone to do, he has pretty much made life hell for Him since we started seeing each other, pouting around the house, making things uncomfortable, and it has started to affect the band, as well. So His decision to end us is in direct correlation to the fact that the EX can't be an adult and get over it. The EX cheated on me, he broke up with me, he has a girlfriend now who he is crazy about... I don't see why the decision for Us to start up a relationship is so out of the question. But apparently I "just don't get it."

Also, I have lost all interest in remaining friends with the EX. Turns out he's not the person I used to love, and I don't have any interest in maintaining a relationship with someone like that.

I get to go to Maryland for a long weekend at the end of Oct. I'm visiting my friend Caine aka: my other half. I cannot wait. To get even a small glimpse of New England in the fall should be enough of a fix for the rest of the winter. I'm pretty much thrilled about this.


always.....