I read Arthur C. Clarke's 2001: A Space Odyssey when I was in eighth grade. I was led to the book by way of Mr. Kubrick's film rendition (A++++ WOULD WATCH AGAIN!!!!!). I enjoyed the book so much that I obtained copies of 2010: Odyssey Two and 2061: Odyssey Three. The fourth book in the series, 3001: The Final Odyssey, would be released later that year.

I remember reading 2010: Odyssey Two in the basement of my parent's house on some nebulous rainy day, the window cracked open to let the smell of rain in. Low music and a solitary reading lamp, I sprawled diagonally (the angle of kings) across my waterbed*, book in hand.

I remember calculating how old I would be in 2010.

26 in 2010.

It seemed impossibly far away.

As of 40 minutes ago, it's only a few months away.

Which got my thinking. What if, perchance, I became the subject of a Frequency like situation and could communicate with my 13-year-old-self (via talkboy)? What would I tell myself?

I was having difficultly answering this question. After some serious pondering, the only things I would tell myself are:

1 -- obtain Young Team and 36 Chambers immediately.
2 -- learn to breakdance.
3 -- be careful of what you do, because the lie becomes the truth.

Actually, I bet my 13 year old self would be jealous -- my girlfriend is hot as hell, my computer is 10x faster than his and I get to stay up as late as I fucking want.

But it's not all birthday cake, breakdancing and pinatas in the future. The month prior to turning 26 has been filled with 70+ hour weeks. No fun.

Thankfully, these long hours will soon subside. We finally took the 9 month project I've been working on out of the incubator. To date, it's been immensely successful, which is very good. I want a raise. 26" rims aren't cheap, you know.

My ladyfriend bought me tickets to see Themselves at the Doug Fir, which I am quite excited about. I've only seen them once before, and it blew my mind. Plus, the Doug is, without question, my favourite venue in Portland. Awhile ago, I saw two amazing shows on two subsequent nights at the Doug:

First up was Holy Fuck (free mp3!). I attended the show with my friend Darrin. We drank drinks and watched, wide-eyed. I'm glad to report that Holy Fuck lived up to their namesake -- it was an awesome spectacle. Their albums don't capture a fraction of the energy or intricacy of their live show, which I demand everyone attend if they ever come to your town. I should have been a professional knob twiddler.

Second up was The Wooden Birds, founded by Andrew Kenny of American Analog Set fame. I attended the show with Ms. Kim and had a stellar time. The sound was wonderful and the band was absolutely spot-on. Kenny has such a charming stage presence. We both left the show feeling extra good.

I spent the fourth of July in Ashland again, for the 25th time. Ms. Kim finally had the day off for the first time in years, so she traveled with me. Such a treat. We has a wonderful time, except when my camera was destroyed as the result of some particularly uncool behavior on both of our parts. Thusly, I have no pictures to show. I was able to salvage the memory card, but as of the publishing date of this entry, I have no way of reading it. Perhaps someday I will have the technology.

More news as it happens. I love you all.

* My parents offered up the waterbed when I moved into the basement. Being that waterbeds are pretty kickass, I graciously took them up on their offer. Only years later did I come to find out that there is a 99% chance that I was actually conceived on said waterbed. I confronted my mother about the situation and all she could do was giggle. Fucked up.