i am thirty now
taking a nap by myself
but not regretting

Camera Obscura - "French Navy" official video

SIX

Broken Social Scene - 7/4 Shoreline

One painting done and two to go! I have a tree theme where a tree plays a key part. I am pretty pleased with the one I've completed. And the other two should be awesome if I can pull it off.

...

When will I stop putting shit into my body? Is something ironic and funny if

Got caught up on some Channel 101 today. I really like 'everything'. It's pretty much on a whole different level from the other stuff on there. I'd even say it's art, video art. Also, 'Ikea Heights'. Too damn good. I want to start a pgh version of this site. It's such a perfect idea. It's hard though. To be overly passive and also get these accomplished. Really hard.

Tomorrow's the big day. Pork Pig's Big Day! Right now, I'm excited. But tomorrow night, I'll probably be a nervous nelly. Thank god for liquid courage.

Every morning I wake up with a song stuck in my head. But nothing visual. What does it mean?

Paintings are complete! My shit is tight. Come see.

Eating's not fun.
Watching movies is no fun.
Texting's not fun.
Bytes aren't fun.
Swinging dicks is no fun.
Scratch that.

Feeling the annual sickness. At least I only get sick the one time, right? But I must create with paint. Countdown. 3-2-1 fla- flooey! Fa-fa- flooey all my fliflauflies. forry fabout fhis.

Feeney!

It's strange, the course of my life. If I think about it, which I have been recently - thinking about it. Ignoring those years before I was with Emily, not that I do, or that one should, but I'll start with the God years. Three years of my life were spent thinking deeply, oh so deeply, about God, Jesus, Christianity, and the interaction my actions and thoughts had with them. And church. Two times a week. And always talking about it, and reading about it. Bible studies. Morning devotionals.

Now I don't want to undermine people by saying I'm over all of that, as if I've come to a more enlightened place. Because I truly do not think I have. Nor do I think it is for the worse. I just don't think of it, or really know what I think of it. But this period was sort of early in my life. The God years. And for years after those God years, or god years - don't want to offend atheistic grammarists - I was very reclusive. Relationships I had had before died. I simply shut myself off. And to a degree I still have those moments.

I don't have a name for what I'm going through now, but it's more social. That I will say. But I'm not going to call it the Social years, though if I were it would be capitalized. I would never have danced in public during the god years or the years following. Now I'm a maniac on the dance floor.

I have a friend who is currently having her own god years. When I met her, I feel that she was in the period I am now. And I was, at the time I met her, transitioning from the god years into that reclusive period. Not that I went into the woods and read Thoreau, or even read anything about reclusion - for good reason since it's not a word. But I was very depressed. Didn't know it then but the amount of sleep I had was a real red flag. So now every email I get from her is about God, and I can only think back on those three years I had - and that's the extent of it. She's in this place where God is real and everything around her is a piece of the puzzle and its fitting together and yet it's all so mysterious and she's helping people, giving herself up to doing good and living day by day. See, she went through those years where she danced late into the night. But I never did.

I just wish we could talk about this. Without it being, "Oh yeah, God, I used to be into that." I mean if it were anything else we could talk. She can relate to me. I can relate to her. But how would I come across saying I've been through all that God stuff now I'm into dancing?

And Jesus wept.

That's me in the back there. I felt so embarrassed that day. For one - pun, on the image - I had a chubby. Luckily you can't see it. The other thing was the ethnics. They just made me feel embarrassed. Hard to explain, and another pun - because I was hard!

But seriously, I had a lot of fun doing this photo shoot. The catering crew provided us with Bologna empanadas, I guess because of the ethnics. And Sierra Mist to drink! Which, if you watch my vlog, know is my FAVORITE!

I can't wait to go to work today and talk about this picture. Literally, which is why I'm going in now, 5 hours early. I know what you're thinking, but remember - envy is a sin.

my favorite song, makes me want to dance with a lamp

ok, so I'm overdoing it a bit but he's just so damn cute is all

This is for Em and in celebration of a day off so far well spent

I still love this

In the words of Bunk Moreland: "I'm just a humble motherfucker with a big dick."

Pray for me.

Spilly Sheets

Yet another reason to love Justin Roiland. Click on it already.

This has nothing to do with Valentines that I can see but nonetheless - I LOVED IT. Happy Victory Day.

bablog, as in babe blog.

I do not like the use of 'babe'. As in 'Hey babe, it's me your boyfriend' or 'Hey babe, its me your girlfriend'. I prefer sweetie, darling, little one, honey (though I've never used that, but don't mind being called it). But 'babe'? There's something so tacky about the use of this word. It reminds me of Playboy magazine in the 80s. Or professional dating. It is completely synonymous with calling your girlfriend, as a term of endearment, 'lady'. Or a girl calling hers 'guy'. 'Hey guy, want to have kinky sex on my brother's bunk bed?' 'Yes, lady, oh yes I would love to have a quick cum like that'.

Another thing I don't like: posting on my blog.

So here's some other things. I am still reading 2666 by Roberto Bolano. I think I've been reading it since November and am only on like page 400, or maybe less - I could get up and get it but the first part is what's holding me back, namely, I do not want to get up. I went to bed really early last night. It was maybe 9 when I dozed then Em got home around 10:30 and I was up for like a minute and then back to bed. So I woke up at 4:30 wide awake. Had Peanut Butter Puffins and that about brings you up to speed. At least on today. But I'm not about to go into details.

In This Life And So Much - The Christmas Special from Joel Chiarizio on Vimeo.

Aren't you envious?

This has been my life lately: wake up anywhere between 3:30 am to 5:30 am. Go to work. Work until 4, or about 1 on those really early days. Come home. Gorge. Put on pajama pants and a v-neck t. Gorge on cookies and snog. Crawl into my sleeping bag and zip myself up. Watch at most ten minutes of Homicide: Life on the Street. Fall asleep. That's asleep by 5 pm on most days. If not earlier. Wake up around 7 or 8. Eat more cookies. Attempt to read or write in my daily journal. Maybe rewatch the episode I slept through. Fall asleep for the night. Wake up and do it all over again. I did that for six days straight. Now I am off today, tomorrow and the next day. I hope to break the cycle! But here I am wondering what to do on my day off. Hmmm...

Dear Gentle peoples of the earth, have you found for yourself respite in this blustery economy? Have you found yourself, like so many vagabonds and urchins, in the black, as we say, on the tally sheet of days-lived? Grab for your sweet and pure self a audit ale from Barman Jackson and peruse your General Healthcare file. Or course it ought to be nestled between Films I Just Adore and Gutsy Adventures I Really Must Take. Truly sweet and Pure little children do you even know your In-Network vs. your Out-of-Network? Of course you must know your yearly deductible, and therefore your deductible met and deductible remaining, that is fail safe in your precious mind, but can you truly say to me or to your lady callers that you know, without a horse hair's lap, your our-of-pocket remaining? Dear DEAR friends - hasten the perusal, nay make it a skim - go to your frilly file and claim your Explanation of Benefits. Salem's Lot will not fall on you if you should KNOW these Benefits. After all, the sin was hospitality and what better way to spend your daie-offe than hospitably. As Sir Lorenzo the Magnificent said, his dying last words as it were, as he lay atop London's gutter in front of Barman Jackson's Alaskan Tax Ale Inn : "Near me to the takest Hospital. 'Twas the Audit Ale. [Live hospitably]."

And as always very helpful. To the kitchen to do - a - DISHES!

I got an early ballot tonight. I asked for a grilled stuffed burrito and they gave me a early voting card. When they asked if I'd like a drink I mistakenly said McCain instead of "No, Thanks". So I inadvertently voted for the Mac. Sorry Bammer. I didn't mean to hurt you. I mean, it hurts.

I also mistakenly, or inadvertently if you will, drove to McMurray. I was trying to drive up over Montana. Because I had myself a trucker's atlas.

I got up at 11:30 today. The latest in years. Went to bed at 4 or so. But I nap frequently so on any given day I could get up at 7pm or 10 pm. Which sounds funny like when a comedian tells a crack-up joke on primetime. It's confusing...like the DaVinci Code.

Emily is already asleep and I'm not tired and not hungry and don't know what to do. I don't want to read, I don't want to drink. This life sucks tonight. Maybe I should run an ultramarathon for a bit.

Whatever you're doing and wherever you are - take care. Take care with care.