Tuesday, June 26, 2007


Sickish. faint. low blood sugar. low potassium.
Potassium deficiency? This is nonsense. I don't react violently with water.
Sorry John, chemistry joke.
blueberries.... never again
clammy clammy. found by english majors in the bathroom.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Listen, John, I just don't want to talk about it.

Educational Trip to Austria.
I woke up as a kitty cat.

Customs the next day was brutal. Delta is a cruel, cruel game indeed.

The Pathway is Lit To Harrah's

There is a certain awe-invoking stillness in the night. Although lacking “cheerful invitation to make (a) life of equal simplicity,” (“What I Lived For” 88), night is all at once dangerously chaotic and religiously tranquil. Henry David Thoreau emphasized the rebirth found in every dawn and the reinvigoration that a body experiences in its wake. I, however, am a creature of the dark. One’s personal intellect can only truly be contacted and exercised in the nighttime. When one’s conscious mind is exhausted, the “genius” (WILF 89) and the Freudian 'Id' briefly co-occupy the conscious mind to allow for a natural creativity and re-awakening within the brain--as if a small window of imagination that is independent of the civilized waking mind suddenly opens and lets its cool breeze refresh stale thoughts. As George Herbert said, “Night is the mother of counsels”.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

The Nymphets of Spring

Dear John,
My school has an odd tradition called "May Day". Founded in pagan traditions, May Day may be best known for its tradition of parading around the Maypole in white dresses. We know better, John. It's, in reality, a fertility dance that pretty much shouts "Marry Me! (if you're wealthy)". Anyway, I'm in the market for a wedding dress. Now, I've seen the bestial brides featured on the style network and I always accepted them with grains of salt. "Who could be this ridiculous about a table setting?," I thought.
Oh, the ignorance.
I'm nursing bruises, scratches, and a possible case of lice as a result of dress shopping this afternoon. Don't Ask.
At this rate, I'll be shopping online or wearing a bedsheet.
Wish me luck.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Nice Haircut, Doofus: The Pop Scene As It Should Be

Dear John,
I hate to dance. Really. I have this tribal dance that only makes appearances when I'm belligerent or hunting. While it wins laughs, it evokes no interpretive movement or expression. Nor does it keep the gentlemen wanting more. I have practiced (for more hours than I'd like to admit) to no avail. And so, I've decided that the problem lies in the music industry. There are no clubs that play music to dance to anymore. And so, I've created a playlist of REAL dance grooves that are compatible with most levels of dancing. These songs are suitable for anything from the snap-n'-sway to the pop-lock-it-drop-it. Music for everyone.

1. "One Headlight" by the Wallflowers
Put simply, this is the anthem of the 90s. Everyone knows the words. It serves as a nice appetizer for what is to come.
2. "Such Great Heights" by the Postal Service
Though hackneyed, this song is meant for strobe lights and eccentric dance moves. Everyone feels comfortable just doing their own thing with a jam like this.
3. "Five More Hours" by the Gabe Dixon Band
Although most think that this one is more suitable for a moody road trip, I am of the opinion that the jive-y chorus is ripe for all bodily interpretations. Salsa, anyone?
4. "Get Your Way" by Jamie Cullum
Who needs JT's revenge songs when this one suffices to include eccentric ex-girlfriends all kinds? A good "forget-that-bitch" saga
5. "Blue Moon" by The Mavericks
A 50s song that should have never retired. The Charleston, anyone?
6. "The Nothing Song" by Sigur Ros
Many think that this song is written in gibberish. In fact, this is the language spoken by a native tribe of Antartica.
7. "The World's Greatest" by R. Kelly
Laugh as you will, this song was pure genius
8. "Like A Rolling Stone" by Bob Dylan
This song has a tendency to be poorly covered by high school bands everywhere. While I scorn the quality of their attempts, I don't think that a school dance could exist without involving this song.
9. "Masasani" by Simon Ngobeni Na Vatsonga Sisters
By this point in the night, African tribal music should seem almost inevitable. Of course, people will cheer for my sweet renditions of African rituals.
10. "Badge" by Cream
This song went unnoticed during the reign of the Beatles. We must make up for lost time.
11. "Aubrey" by Bread
My namesake song. (other way around.) My parents were eccentrics.
12. "Captain Splendid" by Kara's Flowers
Back when Maroon 5 had a soul, they came out with this epic. It's best suited as a cool down.

Looking over these choices, it is apparent that none of them would be allowed in any respectable club. Maybe I'm not cut out for the rhythmic circuit. Hey, I'm just fine in front of the mirror jamming to "New Deep"

Airplanes Round 2: Why We're Alll Going To Snuff It Sometime

I was thinking about this the other day when some butthead rear-ended me:
What if, on the cusp of death, there is no resounding image? What if it's just sort of an oops!-that-was-in-fact-a-landmine thing? While it's romantic and thought-provoking to imagine some final image (your parents' kitchen, your first kiss), the realist in me knows better. It just ends. Bam. At the very least, you should feel the proximity with life that accompanies the proximity with death: colors should be razor-sharp, air should taste like some delicious fruit roll-up, the inevitable explosion should sound like Vivaldi.
Here's what I mean:
The life-threatening situations that make you take nothing for granted are different from the fatal situations. You don't get that second chance. What's the point in a subconcious revelation if there's nothing you can do with it later?
More on this later. I have very important peanut M&Ms to eat.

Game On, Mr. Mayer

I saw this ridiculous youtube video of you trying, without great success, to fend off the public fuzz (paparazzi).

Compelling, friend, but nonetheless fruitless. Try this new and improved tactic:

You will be fashionable and anonymous in these bad boys. Not even bionicmen with cameras around their necks will be able to distingish you from the next busdriver. Because let's be honest, those hostage situations are few and far between. May I also suggest that you forgo hygene rituals? Sure, it might complicate everyday social interactions, but it will damn well get even the bravest phototakers running for the hills.