so this is paralysis...

So today my best friend from high school became an uncle. For some reason it feels like a momentous occasion for not only him, but myself as well, and all my friends, and everyone I know, and I feel like I should write about it.

But really, I'm not sure what I want to say about it. It feels weird. really weird. people that I know are starting to have kids. people that aren't that much older than me. they're going to have kids with people they've known their whole lives; people they met a few months ago; people they don't know at all. apparently the whole mess is like... real important, at least according to psych class. I don't know.

It's like 4 in the morning now. I drove home a little while ago thinking about all of this and a lot of other things, and a lot of profound thoughts went through my head, but once again I sit down to write about it and I can't really say anything. That's mostly why I never write in this thing. I seem to have an extremely short term memory for anything worthwhile that I happen to come up with. It's probably the most frustrating thing in the world.

I guess all I can really say is here's to you, Uncle Jimmy. And here's to life, and every pointless, worthless, unnecessary, impractical, and god-damned beautiful thing in it.

C:\Documents and Settings\Raymond\My Documents\My Music\iTunes\iTunes Music

So Of Montreal on monday was fucking amazing. We almost didn't get in, because they let Dartmouth kids in first and the place only had a fifty person limit, and then it filled up and there were just like the five of us and a few other kids from UVM stuck outside. The dude said that Of Montreal and the M's would play another set though, and they would let us in first for that one, so we sat out in the lounge thing outside and talked to Andy, the guy that puts together the shows at Dartmouth. He was pretty sweet. Then the bassist of Of Montreal came and talked to us and was like "yo, we're gonna play another set but it's gonna be really weird and short" and you could tell he didn't want to do that, and then he was like "andy, just let them in" so then when the security guard turned his back they let us all sneak in. Which was sweet. Because then the bands played like forever, since they didn't have to split their sets.

But yeah, the singer of Of Montreal came out in a wedding dress and was like "i really want to have a good time with you tonight, but we're old fashioned so i think we should get married first." he changed his outfit like four times, and then kissed Tim in a photograph when we met him afterwards, and then he made out with our friend Kaytee in the bathroom after we left. yeah. he was creepy/awesome.

Today i had a philosophy test which i studied for for like an hour while really high and simultaneously playing metal gear solid and it was so easy. I am so incredibly tired though. I haven't had a full night's sleep in forever. I had my radio show sunday night at 2, till 4, and then i was in dartmouth monday night, and then i had to wake up super early on wednesday. and now i have to fucking do a shitload of music homework and review some cd's. Apparently like everyone is going to be home this weekend, so that should be further good times, and then it's vacation. eeeeaaaasy livin'.

So I found out yesterday that I have a RADIO SHOW! The dude called me and was like "your demo tape was one of the best, number 2 in fact, when do you want your show?" and I was all giddy and embarrassed like a school girl, but I managed to arrange my graveyard show to be monday mornings from 2 - 4 AM. which means that I had my first one last night. It was stressful. I don't really know what it sounded like because it isn't up to download yet. But you kids should listen/download it from:

http://www.uvm.edu/~wruv/?action=info&pg=listen

... but yeah. I'm psyched. I have to go to class now, so that I can come back, take a nap, and then go to Dartmouth to see motherfucking OF MONTREAL for free and then go to some crazy scene party with free alcohol.

So everything in the world died last night, along with me, because we were all the same thing and everything made sense just a little too much. and now the glass is broken, forever, but we're all okay. Everyone's okay, Andrew Broke The Glass. He threw Tina's 40 through the glass. Halley is not available right now. Lacey is not available right now. Tim is okay. Thank God (aka myself) for locks and photographs and best friends.

This weekend was alright, I suppose. On Friday my friends ate some shrooms at like 3, and then we adventured. I drove them to Charlotte while they were tripping and we listened to good music and it was basically real good times. I believe it will be my turn next weekend, if our friend doesn't come up to visit us. I also got legitimately drunk for the first time, like as in... more than just buzzed. It was...something. Being drunk is basically just like... being dizzy, cocky, and stupid all at once on purpose. I did manage to make out with a girl who was already in the process of making out with someone else...twice. I mean, that's pretty impressive? Especially for me, Mr. "I care far too much". I guess that's alcohol for ya. I'm not sure how I feel about that, actually. Actually, yes I am. Alcohol is lame- but it gets the job done.

Saturday was also something. I bought my tickets for two of the five million shows I have to go to. I also found out that I am gonna get like 250 bucks back from taxes. Apparently I made 4000 dollars working at the supermarket? Whatever, I'm not complaining, Bonnarroo Quest is now almost sufficiently funded. That's gonna be good tiiiiiimes.

I got a haircut. I don't like it.

Today I went to the first DJ training sesh. I'm really psyched to be a DJ. It was really cold walking back from the meeting.

I found an earing on the bus. I didn't give it to the driver or anything. I put it on my desk. I don't really know what to do with it.

Life is so different now. It's sad feeling. But I'm not sad.

I made my bed today for the first time in a very very long time.

I think I just discovered why my room is so cold. It appears as though the structure of my windows is as follows: on the inside there is glass, which I can open and close. Behind that, there is a screen which I cannot open or close. Then, on the other side of that, unbeknownst to me until just now, there lies another glass part which I think could be opened or closed by me if I were to go outside. This glass part has been open for almost two semesters now. I think after I write this I will go outside and try to remedy this problem.

I still have some music theory homework to do. And some reading I should do for anthropology. I'm having a hard time making myself finish it though, even though both those things are quite enjoyable to me.

It's funny how different my livejournals are now. I feel more like I'm writing them for myself, like how journals are supposed to be, as opposed to when I first got this thing and I just tried to entertain people with humorous musings on my day to day activities. Maybe it just seems like it's changed because I'm not as funny anymore?

I feel bad for Jake.

There's a bowflex at my house now. I'm like really excited to go home this summer and use it a lot. My dad used to have the old 80's version with metal and rubber and such when I was little and I used to have so much fun trying to work out with him.

The FAFSA is due by March 1st. I have yet to start it/remember what the FAFSA even is.

I want to write poetry again. Sometimes I do it in my head and then make a point to remember what I came up with and then promptly forget it. It's not a very productive system, actually. I should enlist the aid of some underfed Asian children.




I've still got this damn thing in my back pocket.

So things have been pretty good. quite good, actually. And I kind of feel bad about it. I mean, I avoided smoking AND drinking for 18 years of life PLUS an entire semester of college (the equivalent of about another 10 years) and things always seemed pretty good. But now that I've started smoking some (a lot) and drinking occasionally (only enough to get buzzed/play beer pong), happiness/satisfaction levels have increased exponentially. I mean, things were already much better this semester than before, since I now have a rather concrete group of good friends and such, but they got even better when I started making sure I had less control of myself more often hahaha (i.e. running from werewolves in the woods, firing waterballoons at unsuspecting females from across the green, firing waterballoons at unsuspecting windows from about a foot away, eating EVERYTHING at the marche, spending the night with a girl you've known for a week and then splitting at 7 in the morning when your friends in the bunk above you and on the floor next to you decide they want some dunkin' donuts, beating everyone at Guitar Hero WHILE dancing, etc). And the fact that I decided to do it after so much thought and completely on my own makes it all feel that much better. You also NEVER have to pay for anything when everyone is so excited that you "broke edge". It's basically a sweet deal all around. I kind of just feel bad that I don't feel bad about it.

In other news, I am probably going to Bonnaroo this summer with Tim and Pat and Ryan. For 160 bucks you get three days of music featuring like... everyone. Bright Eyes, Deathcab, Radiohead, Elvis Costello, G Love, Stephen Malkmus, The Dresden Dolls, others. Apparently they decided to not be such a hippie fest this time. Also, it's in motherfucking Tennessee. which means motherfucking ROAD TRIP. should be good times.

I just made a playlist for dancing to. It's also good times.

The Grav Bong is probably the worst man made creation ever to be created by men. I vow never again to cross swords with that scurvy aquatic villain. He struck me down and left me wobblin' without me sea legs. not fun. pirates. lap up on their port bow.

April 18th.







Higher Ground.









WOLF PARADE.

like holy crap. higher ground is throwin' it down. I have got many many tickets to buy.

There are so many good shows coming up. I'm so psyched. The end of March features me going with Pat and Ryan to Jersey/New York to visit our friend Jess and to see Mates of State. THEN. Higher Ground is throwing down. April 26th is MINUS THE FREAKIN' BEAR with Thursday and Mewithoutyou. holy shit. and then. May 5th is Saves the Day with Circa SurFUCKINGvive. i'm so psyched. Those aren't even all the shows I'm going to. There's gonna be a sweet ska show next month, and Chiodos is coming at some point as well. Oh boy oh boy.

Oh my god. I just planned out my entire life. I looked over requirements and shiz, and realized that the only things I have left to take as like actual graduation requirements are a PE class, a non-lab science, and a race relations class. And now I know exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to take my PE and my non-lab OVER THE SUMMER. most likely they will be archery and Astronomy. THEN. next semester. I declare an anthropology major. with a possible religion minor. OR a music minor. THEN. i take the race and ethnicity class (ANTH 187) which covers that one requirement and is also an Anthro class that goes towards my major. I also take any two of the other three required anthro intro courses i need (prehistoric anthro, physical anthro, linguistic anthro) and i also take a Religion or a Music class. THEN. I also take JAPANESE. THEN! Junior year i go to Japan. I miss the psychological anthro class which is only offered every other year, but I get fine silks and spices. THEN. I grow up. THEN. I study religious anthropology of the east OR ethnomusicology of the east.

It's so perfect.

And no, I'm not high. that was Friday, Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday... uhhhh... totally under control. don't even worry about it.

So I just wrote a bunch about when I was high, and then erased it.

So my classes are pretty much the sweetest. I feel like I'm really close to another enlightenment experience. I was in the last of my new classes thus far in the school year (anthropology), and I just felt like all of these things I'd been introduced to in the past few days are so close to what I want to do with my life. I think it has to do with how they're all basically the same thing: Anthro, sociology, psychology, and philosophy... with a dash of music. The stories my anthro teacher told me were fucking awesome, and sociology is basically just math anthro, and then psych is like... sciency individual anthro, and then philosophy is like the fucking coolest complete-waste-of-time/what-I-do-in-my-head-anyway class ever. Maybe I'll be a Anthro/Philosophy major or some combination of any of those. Basically I'm real excited to have found something I enjoy... we'll just have to wait and see if I'm any good at them. All I know is that I sat next to the hottest girl in anthropology.

I've also managed to keep rather busy in my free time thus far. I've had a late night Guitar Hero sesh with Pat and Ryan and crew like every night. Today we went and watched Kiss Me Deadly play at WRUV for their live Exposure show. It was pretty cool, since there were only like 6 of us on couches in the hall in front of the station watching them, since WRUV does like... zero advertising for anything they do. The band is pretty sweet too, I guess they've opened for The Go! Team and shiz. I've also got my first weekly Marche lunch of the semester with ol' Lacey Jane Walker on friday. I've also acquired about 200 new and awesome songs in the trusty iTunes library since I've been here. And I did a little drinkin'. and I am soon to do a little smokin'. which almost everyone is like... super supportive of. I'm just excited to exercise my godlike willpower in the face of actual temptation-based-on-experience rather than just peer pressure. and to see what color lazers I'll be able to fire when I'm high.

So guys. It's 3:51, and college is back and I'm so fucking glad. I'm awake, and everyone else is awake. No one went to sleep at nine. I'm so content.

Today I got to school at like 4:30, and it was cold. I went to my room, and it was just as I left it: painfully small and completely mine. I unpacked my things, and then cleaned. I then discovered that my door does not reliably lock from the inside. Meaning I could be raped in the night. So i set out for the trinity campus office to see about getting that fixed. on my way, Lacey Jane Walker messaged me about how I was back and how i should go get this book she brought me. I went up there, and we talked, and I was shy like a stupid little boy with a crush on a girl he throws sand at. it was good. then i promptly read half of the book, until james allen came and got me at like 7 something to go to millis, where his GF lives. we went there, and sat and talked for a while. it was nice. I got my first dominoes pizza of the semester (the first of many, as i have 1000+ points). it was a hearty meal. I then returned to mercy. I read the rest of that book in peace until like 10 something. Then I went up to see my good friends Ryan and Pat.

Pat gave me a hug, which was nice cuz he's fat. Then we all walked to Buckham to see evan and nate and such. I had two shots of vodka. yup. two shots of vodka. and i don't even feel like i gave in to a lifetime of temptation or failed myself or anything. It wasn't a temptation thing, i just did it because I wanted to. I think it feels okay because i still vow never to drink beer, or anything else trashy and alcoholic in a can. I always see my relatives get drunk from beer. but somehow anything else that isn't beer feels a little more okay to me. and it's not like i'm drinking to get drunk, or even to get buzzed, as is obvious from the fact that i only had two shots while weighing like 170 pounds and being descended from a long line of drunkards. I obviously needed more, but I didn't have anymore. My willpower is obviously at a safely superior level after 18 years of training hahaha. As long as it's liquor or wine or at least a little classy, i might have a little. and of course, chasing with orange soda is the pinnacle of classiness. I'm still debating about pot though. But rest assured I'm not gonna smoke for the first time anywhere other than a red minivan.

We then came back, and I played some of the best guitar of my life while they smoked out of the craziest bong i've ever seen. it was like some humongous crazy double distilled two chamber monster thing. But seriously. I rocked out. They got real high.

But back to this drinking thing. I'm alright with it, but i feel like my friends are gonna be disappointed in me. And when i say that they shouldn't be because i've got it under control, i just sound like an alcoholic. hahahaha. but seriously, i've got it under control. if anyone i respect thinks i should just cease and desist, then just say the word and it's done. I trust you guys.

I need a new book to read, preferrably one that can be finished quickly as I have books waiting for me from people at school, which I return to in... a week.

Suggestions?

Preferrably something I should have read but probably haven't, aka a classic of some sort, or really anything. I'm more worried about being able to/wanting to finish it in a week because I'm afraid of reading two books at once.

In other news. My car is sketchy now. Even though it's acting the same as it always has other than the one time it died last night at a stoplight. But now I'm afraid of it. And like... that sucks. Because I like to drive my car more than I like doing most things. And my car was also the only one healthy enough to get anywhere far away. Maybe it was just cold and I didn't let it heat up enough before I drove it. I'm sorry, bro.


I won at bowling again. And air hockey. I'm good at all the best sports.

So I'm going to tell you about my drive home tonight.

I was warned that the roads were shitty, and that I would need to be careful on my drive home from old Willy-Town to Bristol. So I set out with my defroster blaring as well as some recently purchased Of Montreal and Stephen Malkmus, ready for the focused, stressful, and somehow enjoyable snowy drive home I'd traveled all too many times before.

At the Korner Kwik a Subaru with one tail-light out pulled in front of me. At first I called him One-Eyed Jack, but pretty soon I realized that she was more of a Winking Jane. And I also quickly realized that this was not the typical drive home.

You know that feeling when you're driving through bad weather with one other car in front of you, and you're both being slow and careful and you're inadvertently sticking together, and for some reason you feel this strange bond with that car and whoever's in it, like you're going through some crazy adventure together? Well that's what it felt like with Winking Jane. But this was slightly different. We weren't in this together: Winking Jane was leading me somewhere.

And then we hit it. That part of the road from the KKS to CVU that opens up from tree covered darkness to moonlit rolling hills. And it was completely not itself tonight. The crazy radioactive fake plastic snow chips that completely covered the ground tonight began to shine like fucking Diamonds. Tiny little diamonds littered all over the pure white trail which Winking Jane was leading me across, somehow different from the one I'd driven home countless times before. And then the snow that was still falling did that thing where it falls hard enough and you drive fast enough for it to look like Lightspeed. And I swear to god the fucking Lightspeed Diamonds were fucking magic.

Winking Jane left me near CVU, and so I had the 20 minute drive from there home to myself. And the Lightspeed Diamonds shone on me while I thought about all the things that I'm always thinking about these days, all the things that have made this vacation so completely and utterly depressing and soul-killing, and the fucking Lightspeed Diamonds made it okay. I didn't care that I've sat in my house alone about 75% of this vacation. Or that I have no idea what I'm going to be when I grow up. Or that I've already grown up and I'm not anything/one yet. Or that she so quickly found someone/many else of equal or greater value while I still consider her so much greater than anyone else I've met thus far. Or that that is an incredibly pointless and wasteful way to be feeling. Or that I am destined to have acne for the rest of my waking days. Or that I don't read nearly as fast as I'd like to. Or that writing emails back and forth almost daily for an entire vacation is most certainly not going to make anyone fall in love you. Or that I will most likely never again see someone I very well could have fallen in love with. None of that was even a problem at all. And hopefully it will stay that way. I feel that it might.

Thanks, Jane.

Holy shit. So every fucking night that I've been home, the alarm clock my brother has in his room has gone off at 2:00 AM. But this is not just any old alarm. no no, not at all. This alarm is satan... in alarm form. And I didn't capitalize his name because he's currently annoying the hell out of me (no pun intended) and so does not deserve the honor of such formalities. But anyway. the Alarm. it starts as a single beep at 2:00, and it's in the other room so I can hardly hear it, and usually don't. Then it beeps again several seconds later. then it beeps again, this time a little faster. and again, faster. And it continues to do this until about 2:01, when I finally realize that this slight discomfort that I've been feeling for the past minute is none other than the horrible beeping (and punctual) nightly parasite come to drain me of what little happiness I've been able to harbor this vacation, and it's now beeping at a constant rate of about 3 Angels Dying per Second. Sometimes I don't get up right away, both shocked and undermotivated, and so I sit for another 10 seconds, plummeting the total Angel count down another thirty before finally running over there and flipping the light on (somehow never managing to wake my brother) and fumbling around for the awkwardly placed silence button. Now, a few things about this situation strike me as absurd. Why in the hell is an alarm set for 2:00 AM? My brother's bedtime is at 9:30, and he wakes up at 6, and has little-to-no latenight sexy parties. And when you get a new clock, if anything the default setting is for 12 noon. NOT 2:00 AM Ray Time. Speaking of Ray. the other issue. This has been going on nightly for quite some time now, and yet I have continuously managed to completely just... not put a stop to it. If this bothers me so much, why do I not figure out how to turn the alarm off? or ask my brother to do it? I can never quite remember what my dreams are about, but apparently they're good enough to push demonic alarm clocks out of my short term memory. Or what if I subconciously know that something is supposed to happen at 2:00 AM - maybe I'm supposed to do something really important? Maybe that's why I'm always awake at 2 in the first place. Life is just so interesting right now!

There is something inside me. I feel like I might have stumbled upon a secret truth that the gods don't want us to know, and they've cursed me unable to share it - I can't even think about it myself for too long. I refuse to bear this great weight - which is surely the meaning of life, or at least the meaning of a life - while it's unrealized charity burns up my insides. I've done all I can to expell it. I've tried all the familiar mediums. I spit out another song, hoping to find some great Siren riding its waves and uttering those words which I could never say in a voice I could never hope to duplicate, even in the privacy of a 60 mph jaunt over backroads. But no, the song was something else. I tried to write a poem. But my words were nothing more than that: my words, not the immortal utterings of some lost Prometheus, chained forever after setting loose this great secret which found its way to me. No, my words were something else. I even made a confession, and an apology, but like so many other rituals, they held little water when faced with the great flood of universal truth that threatens to drown me. And so, alas, my great purging remains unsuccessful. Perhaps I am destined to carry this for all of my days, until I'm dying of starvation in some great desert and find myself barely scrawling SOS into the sands which will soon swallow me and my great burning secret from the gods, only to find my secret writhing in those sandy letters, finally realizing that it is not the medium or the art which would free my burden, but the context in which the attempt is made. Or maybe...

I'm just a whiny piece of shit.

I feel like I should make some resolutions, but it seems like enough changes have been going down on their own as of late. I should probably just resolve to be less of a whiny, sarcastic, douchebag about it. That and to read and make music more often.

I slept until 4 o'clock today. it was gross. but then when I woke up there were leftover pancakes and sausage for 5 o'clock breakfast. just like I wanted. but then I had to eat dinner like... two hours later. which was, again, gross.

I started reading "House of Leaves" today. it's pretty sweet. in an "I can tell this is gonna to get real fucked up pretty soon" sorta way. Except it's one of those books you borrow from someone that is like... kinda in bad shape, and so the whole time I'm reading it I feel like I'm going to sneeze and it will turn to dust and blow away or explode or something. It's a little bit stressful.

speaking of someone. I apologize for my behavior last night. yeah, that's me... forever awkward.

I still need to see freaking King Kong.

But anyway. Happy New Year kids. I slept all day, so I'm probably going to be up all night. good thing there's a Degrassi marathon? hahaha... oh 2006. I couldn't possibly feel less in control of anything.

I desperately need to yell and hit something and cry and write and play guitar really loudly and drive and read all at once right now. or something.