zinnian

monday, tuesday, wednesay . . .

a recent email i wrote to julie:

this weekend a friend of mine was killed in an airplane accident near telluride.  things feel very heavy and claustrophobic, i have been daydreaming about the landscape that surrounds longmont and boulder, the simple chaos of where the mountains meet the plains.  the bike rides i used to take on the back highways between boulder and lyons.  it is cold here, but the sky was spectacular today.  so crisp, i felt like i could could touch it.  it has been windy, and my skin is red and chapped from being outside.

sat and sunday were lazy days.  i sat around and watched tales of the city and movies.  sat night i went out to a friend's birthday party in williamsburg.  it was at this loft that had floor to ceiling windows with a view of the manhattan skyline.  it was unreal.

mike and i did not communicate this weekend.  he called me drunk sat night and yelled at me.  he then called to apologize on sunday.  we started to have a conversation about things, but both of our phones were not getting very good service. ironic, right?  we are supposed to meet tonight. officially we are on a hiatus of sorts . . . but i feel myself pulling away.

i hear it was amazing in denver this weekend.  justin said he sat outside and drank margaritas on sunday afternoon.  sounds brilliant. i was chatting with a friend of mine who recently moved to montana yesterday. he was talking about the land and the openness there.  i think that is what made me start daydreaming about home.  they always say writers have a very conflicted relationship with the landscape of
their youth.  i always have.  when i am there it pushes me away, and when i am gone it calls me back.

eek, i am in an interesting mood . . .

and then there was this.

joe.my.god. posted on this also.

i am ashamed to be an american today.  we should all be ashamed.

visit salon.com for the latest on the abu ghraib.
 

staring: 10-2

so i have a staring problem, and i think it scares people. i had never really noticed it before (probably because it has become so natural for me). However, i have decided the reason i am so good at cruising is because i have no shame in staring at people. seriously, just stare at them until they stare back.

ivy drunk

so . . . . 10-2 (finally)

10. mariah carey, the emancipation of mimi
10. MIA, Arural

9. LCD Soundsystem, LCD Soundsystem

8. Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah, Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah
8. iron and wine/calexico, in the reins

7. Andrew Bird, Andrew Bird and the Mysterious Production of Eggs

6. Wolf Parade, Apologies to Queen Mary

5. Animal Collective, feels

4. sigur ros, takk

3. kanye west, late registration

2. Antony and the Johnsons, i am a bird now

Honorable Mentions: john vanderslice, pixel revolt; feist, let it die; okkervile river, black sheep bow; my morning jacket, z; death cab, plans; the decemberists; xui xui, la foret; bright eyes, i am wide awake its morning; kaiser chiefs, employment; kate bush, aerial; stephen malkmus, face the truth; BSS, BSS; Spoon, Gimmi Fiction; Fiona Apple, extraordinary machine; the new pornographers, twin cinema; bloc party, silent alarm; iron and wine, woman king ep; m ward, transistor radio; matson jones (re-release) . . . and many many more . . . .

even as i completed that sentence i wanted to write more. so what does next year hold? the hold steady are kicking ass, wolf parade released the album that the arcade fire so desperately wanted to, kanye proved he was not a one album wonder producer, kelly clarkson put out an album we can all dance our asses off to. so who knows. the brooklyn sound is dying, the strokes/white stripes/kings of leon sound is overdone. the most original album of the year was xiu xiu or animal collective, but both are so unlistenable at first, it takes ten times to get into it. i want the fiery furnaces to prove that they are one of the best bands working.

i want a new sufjan album. i want a super show where sufjan, iron and wine, m ward, longhorn slim, clem snide, etc make us all cry.

i want kanye to team with jamie stewart (a boy can only dream . . . )

so a little late, but there it is . . . .

good night.

the doctor::mike

i met him four months ago.  he blew me off.  we reconnected.  i adore him, i mean really adore him.

january 6th::song of the day::a man like me: beulah

new years and the other winter holidays, came and went.  uneventful at most, distracting at best.  i am back in the drudgery of work.  meghan and her boyfriend drove up last weekend, it was brilliant.  alexis, one of my oldest friends, and one of my dearest, is in town for the weekend. friends float in and out of your life.  but i have a few, mostly female, that have been a steady presence for years.  jennifer, jenessa, shannon and lex, i love you. 

i fell asleep a few nights ago, and woke up with the address of the chelsea std clinic neatly places on the corner of my bed.  it probably fell out of my bag, or slipped out of one of my pockets, but it was there, staring at me, like some evil omen.  its presence sent chills down my neck.  i immediately decided to get tested.  this was two days before the transit strike, and with the mess of that, trying to get to work, leaving for the holidays and friends coming into town, i had been neglecting the clinic.  this week i decided that i could not wait any longer.

this morning it was raining, cold, and bitter outside.  i woke up at 6:30 (after staying out late with lex), and showered.  walking to the subway, my heart almost beat itself out of my chest.  i was hot, then cold, then nervous, distracted, and extremely alone.

when i finally made it up to 28th and 9th there was a line 20 people deep outside of the door.

i found my place, slipped on my headphones, and tried not to make eye contact with the people around me.  afraid they might know i am a fag, a slut, someone who might be positive, the whole time knowing they are thinking the same about me. 

when i finally made my way into the bleak clinic, the walls were white, the staff unfriendly, the atmosphere dirty.  there was a homeless couple in front of me digging through their huge bags of belongings, the scars on their arms so deep, some fresh, some new.  fresh blood seeped through the sleeves of their shirts.

i sat silent.

trying to focus on my music, my book, something.  my legs bounced, my heart raced.

the following three hours were much of the same, and when i finally did get my results, i laughed hysterically, relieved to know what i had to do and ready to move forward with my life.  i was prepared for whatever came my way.

this test, has become such a standard of life for people who are sexually active (or at least it should be). 

sex is scary.  sex is bad. sex is wrong.  sex is beautiful, and yet we have to fear it in our society. 

sex makes you sick.

sex makes you pregnant.

sex kills.

sex kills.

i am negative.  a new lease on life.

song of the day::a man like me: beulah

next 10-2, promise.

Starting the New Year Right . . .

i am having serious issues with the top ten of 2006, i thought it was going to be an easy year this year, but once i started going through all my albums from the past year, i was having trouble isolating my top ten.  i DO know the the best album of the year was Sufjan Steves: Illinios.  No question.  Best track off of the album: John Wayne Gacy Jr. (who was a gay serial killer in Chicago).  a true folk song, Sufjan tells his story, does not judge (where judgement is due), and then relates is own life to Gacy's.  Gacy killed 27 young men and buried the bodies underneath the floorboards of his home.  Stevens relates to this, saying, "in my best behavior, I am really just like him. look beneath the floorboards for the secrets i have hid."  The song ends with these eerie deep breath sounds from stevens.  it is incredible, haunting . . . the song sounds could be mistaken as a love song, but you can hear the pain in stevens voice, the pain for the victims, the pain for his own victims (not murders, but those he has hurt), and the pain of his own secrets.  With somewhere around thirty tracks, this album is epic.  It is his second in the "america series" where he plans to make an album about every state.  A lofty task, but one I am excited to see develop.  The first was about his home state, Michigan, and the most recent, Illiniois.  Keep an eye on stevens, and he his hot, which always helps!

next, 2-9, and the new years recap.

okay . . .

so i have not been so up-to-date on my postings . . . i went to colorado for christmas.  which was amazing, sad, weird all at once.  megan is in town for new years, so i will post more later . . . i keep promising that, but i promise . . .

top ten of 05

okie kids . . . i am working on my top 10 (or maybe 20) of 2005.  there may be a few surprise upsets . . . girl, mariah worked it this year . . . stay tuned, my dear three readers!

the burg

my roomie and i out at larry and lawrence in the burg.

stranded, landlocked.  i carpooled to work today.  tomorrow i leave for denver.  penn station is a mess.  i hope i make it home. 

song of the day:  iron and wine faded from the winter . . .

daddy's ghost behind you
sleeping dog beside you
you're a poem of mystery
you're the prayer inside me

spoken words like moonlight
you're the voice that i like

needlework & seedlings
in the way you're walking
to me from the timbers
faded from the winter

dustin and i continue our situation.  i am moving closer, he seems to be pulling back.  i miss him when i do not see him.  when his eyes meet mine, i get nervous, for a moment, and then i pull back again.

when he laughs he spits.

when he sleeps he snores.

his nails are often dirty.

he always has paint on his hands.

he smells, like camping.

he wears a fur jacket.

and i cannot get enough of him.

&%*&^(^)* strike . . .

x may have gay shoes, and they better be comfortable, bc his ass is walking to work, and i am stranded, in brooklyn . . .