So I'm going to move to Portland (again) this weekend.

After that, though, I have plans to be doing things on the internet more. For example, updating the website I've been talking about updating for three years or so.

Just FYI

Lo, there came the idea on Blamo to do a photo diary of a day and I figured, "What the hell, I can do that."

So I did. And this is the result. It's pretty photo-intense (91 pictures), just FYI.



( This is the Story of April 9th, 2010 )

And that was that. A day in the life.

I'm just posting a bunch of stuff so I can print it out later from a different computer.

( Yo. )

To yesterday's entry:

( Some Pictures of Where I Live Now )

Not much, but it's sort of an idea.

Via Sweetaddy:

The opening credit sequence of Watchmen is absolutely great.
The rest of the movie's okay. Pretty good, even, but not without certain notable flaws. But that opening is fucking awesome.

It's been a looooooong week. A lot of stuff going on. Tomorrow I have nothing planned and aim to keep it that way.

Incidentally, Cheryl, I still can't find my charger, so if your number is still what it was before (which I think I remember) I can call you from the house phone tomorrow--I've been wanting to talk to you for a couple days now at least, just haven't had time to breathe.

Part of the trouble with having a large music collection is figuring out exactly what you want to listen to at any given moment when you have thousands of options at your fingertips. I ended up going with this one right now because this album represents exactly the kind of quiet evening comfort that I'm going for right now.

I'm mildly intoxicated right now and rather enjoying that--both the intoxication and its mildness. I've decided I don't really care for getting completely plastered. Perhaps I'm getting older, who knows?

I've been talking with Tiah and Ally on Sweetaddy about places to look into in Portland. That's something I love about that city--it's so easy to know people. You meet the right few people or go to the right few places and you're connected to the whole city. And by nature of the beast, it's kind of inevitable that you end up making those connections. I really can't wait to live there.

I've a therapy appointment tomorrow that I really do not want to go to. It's nothing against the doctor, but I just can't talk to him at all. It's like talking to my dad, which is... while not impossible, it requires some translation, which shouldn't be the case with a therapist. I've been accused of manipulating therapists I can relate to, but I don't think that's the case--ultimately I just need somebody uninvested to talk to who can 1) prescribe my medication and 2) occasionally offer some trenchant insight in the process of being a sounding board.

I hate being underestimated, also. I AM actually conscious of my mental health--more than I feel I'm being credited for. And it somewhat irks me when, if I get the least bit snippy, the first thing I hear is "are you taking your medicine?" I really need to feel like more than a little kid, and that doesn't help with that.

Day after tomorrow I'm going to sit down with Anna and Paul, apparently. I'm looking forward to that--it'll give me some much needed footing in the situation. I dunno, I'm a bundle of weird emotions about all that, albeit probably not nearly as much as either of them. But then I don't know that--I don't really know what's going on, which is part of my dilemma, as I therefore can't know how to feel about it.

I was bitching yesterday about only having written two songs since I've been back here, but I was playing them today and they're both actually kinda good--one in particular that I didn't like at first. It's got a chorus I'm somewhat proud of:
We've been drinking under broken constellations and we've
Kept our secrets like hidden gold inside the house
So when you've run through all your idols and false prophets, baby
I'll light a candle to help you keep the darkness out

I caught an episode of Important Things with Demetri Martin this evening. Funny, funny stuff.

I also, in an attempt to turn my brain off for a bit, watched Face/Off. It's almost artistic how stupid it is--that's what makes it kind of work. It's enjoyable because it's so fucking dumb.

Also went for a bit of a walk tonight. The park near the house here is really gorgeous at night. Cheryl, if you're reading this, I think I saw Lloyd while I was out there--it looked like him, but he darted off before I could get close.

Other than therapy tomorrow and that little get together on Wednesday, I have no plans this week. I am boring. But things tend to pop up at the last minute, so who knows?

I've decided that not only should I post more regularly, I should make use of tags. So starting with this one, I'm doing that.

I'm listening to Grant Lee Buffalo's Mighty Joe Moon. Fuck, this is a really good record. "Happiness" is an amazing song that I've liked for quite a while, but it's impressing on me how good the whole album is.

Valentine's Day was good, then turned supremely weird. That's all I want to say about that right now. Well, that and Holocene is ridiculously loud.

The night I met Anna, we were talking at the bar one-on-one while Ali was talking to Sarah and Alan. I have no idea what I was saying but I used the word "disinterested" and she politely interjected that I actually meant "uninterested." I tried to defend my diction for a minute, but then sort of paused cos I realized she was totally right--"uninterested" was the more appropriate word. That she would not only make that distinction but point it out--that was the moment I knew I'd really like her.

Allison Weiss is coming to Portland, which is kind of neat. I dunno if I'll be able to get anyone to go with me to that (she might be a little too "geeky indie kid" for the folks I hang around with), but I'll probably go.

I've been creatively blocked since I've been back in Oregon. I've written two non-Coleman songs in six months--that's ridiculously low for me; I usually go through periods where I'm writing three or four songs a week. I dunno why it is that there's a clog in that part of my brain, but it's pissing me off a little.

I dunno, I'm feeling moody today. I spent an hour singing "Send in the Clowns" over and over, I fell asleep at 6PM, I've been coughing so hard I've thrown up from it and I've got a lot on my mind.

Say what you will about them--and there are a lot of things you can say--Fall Out Boy have some great melodies here and there. Right now, the choruses to The (Shipped) Gold Standard (roughly 0:50-1:14) and Tiffany Blews (around 0:55-1:24) are really doing it for me for whatever reason.

Today, I applied for a job I actually hope I get. It's data entry and warehousing (both of which I actually have experience in), full-time swing-shift, benefits, all that--an online book retailer. So yeah. The cynic in my isn't holding my (his?) breath, but fingers crossed anyway.

Yeah, that's all I've got right now. It's been an anticlimactic day. Tomorrow I'm taking gram shopping, then I have to call Bianka (assuming she doesn't call me) and see what the deal is about this party she may or may not be having. Either way, I'll be up in the city tomorrow, but it's nice to have at least a vague plan.