Or you could just leave me a note without reading a damn thing. That would be cool too, I guess:
Tell me what you think.
Oh, but if you feel like reading not only this, but my other charming drivel, by all means, check out:
My life (the Christmas, Chuannaka, Kwanza and especially Festivus edition) - 2005-12-24
Best news ever!!! - 2005-12-10
My first short story in for-freakin'-ever. - 2005-12-04
I take my first final exam of the semester in just 10 minutes. - 2005-11-29
A Series of Billiant Revelations (because I haven't the time for anything else). - 2005-11-28
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2005-08-16
8:45 p.m.
In the dream we're leaning against the kitchen counter. We're drinking beers and telling dirty jokes. The guy is thick-necked and fratty- not my type at all. Why am I hanging out with him? Oh yeah- because I know that he's really a young version of my Grandfather in that uncanny way you know things in dreams.
At length he says "It sure sucks that you've only been hanging out with me since you knew I was dying."
And I know he's right. It bothers me. When I wake up I call my mom and ask her how Grandpa's doing. She tells me he's not so well and might need to go into a home because the family is having an hard time dealing with him 24-hours-a-day. He no longer has a colon or a urethra and needs his bodily leakage bags emptied at all inconvineient hours of the day and night. His girlfriend has drifted away from him in this time of duress. Everything is in limbo...
And yet in my dream we were chillin'.
I guess the moral is that I should live every day as if I would live forever and yet die tomorrow. Yes, my grandpa is dying- he has one heart attack after another. And yes, he was once as young and silly as me. The moral: my present wine-drinking is totally justifiable. So is my relative irresponsibility. I woke up and lived just like I said- in eternity as much as in The End. Life is beautiful. Today I painted and wrote and went to the San Antonio Museum of Art with Ryan. Of all the people I've truly cared about in my life he's the first to politely withstand a museum venture with me. Jon, Jason and Amy all got bored with my gushing about this-and-that when I dragged each of them individually to the SAMA. Ryan, howver, was receptive and fascinated.
Here- I simply must let you in on a secret-
I love Ryan.
For real.
I know he's my sister's ex and yadda, yadda, yadda. The important thing is that he's the first dude to really get me. He understands art, he's well-read and he's as interested in Shakespeare as science (and both hold a good deal of interest for him). Not only that, but he's tall, svelte, blonde and glasses-clad.
Why do I have such a fetish for guys in glasses?
Oh, hell- either way, I'm in love.