I was at Wal Mart and I saw a girl who was small and slight, just a slip of a girl, really. Much like Mally. But here's the trick. This girl had a CHILD! No child-bearing hips, and yet a child was still put forth. Mally's excuse for not wanting children is dashed all to pieces!

(Obviously I'm assuming far too much, ie she actually gave birth to the kid, but like I actually need a reason to post something as abstract as this, anyway.)

oh god... i think i'm just starting to realize that everything i've done over the past two years here will be completely GONE in a few weeks... i mean, it will still be here with me, but that's really the only place. i'm just leaving everything behind... and i can't even wait to go. now i know that i'm leaving and it's just sort of lingering until i actually do...

i woke up this morning after this rather disturbing dream where i was being swept away by an ocean current... but, i was being swept away in front of a huge crowd... and they all just looked at me like i was in the way of the magnificent sunset that was behind me and me crying for help was just ruining their tranquility. it was all very strange... and... i don't know. i woke up with a heavy heart and i can't get rid of it.

i just want to be with my friends. i'm so far away from everyone... i just feel like i'm locked in this little shell that is jacob... even when i leave this stupid apartment -- which i do whenever i can -- i still just feel locked inside of me. the people that are here are in thier own worlds with their own people and i feel incredibly unwelcome. it's partly my fault, probably...

as much as i fucking hate to say it, i feel different. i mean, i'm the same and i have the same thoughts and feelings and everything, but i just deal with them differently. i have no convictions. i have no beliefs. i wish i did.

i think i was like this right before i left to see mal and locke last time. i don't even know why i get this way. i just feel small.. and i have all these problems, but i try to be so fucking independent at times it makes me sick. i don't ask people for advice, and that's so incredibly stupid of me. it's not like i don't TAKE advice... it's just that the people giving it aren't quite aware that they are. and the thing is, when someone flat out gives me advice, i might contest it at first... but only because i want to make sure the person giving this advice really believes it.

i listen to everything and everyone, just so you know. sometimes i wish people would sit down and tell me everything they believe. everything they know and want... just out of nowhere. i absolutely love to hear these things. i want to hear someone else besides myself. god, i hear myself 24 hours a day. but, i want them to tell it to ME. i want someone to look at me and say, "here, this is what i think..." without expecting me to think the same thing.

i feel so dangerous when i say things that people agree with, because, when i say something that they don't agree with, they suddenly feel fooled. "well, he's not like me at all... sigh..."

i'm so open as to how to live my life it's insane. there are so many beautiful ways to live life, i can't choose just one. i want them all. maybe that's a bit greedy. maybe it tears me apart sometimes... it's like connect the dots, only i don't like the picture, so i'm just adding my own dots to make it look how i want it to... it probably ends up with this ridiculous looking mess of lines because i change my mind so often. oh... but, i guess life is a journey, so i'd never finish the picture anyway -- which is a good thing...

i don't know... i don't even think i'm like this at all in person. i mean, not completely. i'm pretty happy... i think. and it's probably because i write these silly melodramatic blog things...

Drinks:

Earlier I had a "white" flavored gatorade. I know this is not what the flavor is technically called, but SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK IT'S WHITE GATORADE. This was right next to "black" gatorade at the store. Bitter told me that white was the worst flavor, and I am inclined to agree, but I haven't tried black yet, and neither has he, and he also hasn't tried High Tide flavor, which is kind of like blue-green human sweat flavored with dextrose. But then, I guess that's the whole gatorade concept in a nutshell -- repackaged, refrigerated, flavor-adjusted human sweat.

And then just now, I had a "peach frrrrrreeeeeze" flavored iced tea. I think I put a few more R's and E's than necessary, but I know it had more than its legal limit. Anyway, this beverage was actually quite tasty. It had a nice kick to it. Plain iced tea never really gets me, I always prefered the citrus flavored one (I think we would have the McCain's frozen concentrate kind, but maybe it wasn't McCain's. Anyway it was good). On the same note, I don't like regular citrus flavored drinks, ie "Five Alive". I think I got into that here before. I like pure orange juice and pure grapefruit juice.

And of course I ran out of orange juice again.

Today it was bewilderingly warm. A skate kid with a shaved head told me it was 104 degrees, which I believe is the temperature known as "fever", and is a few degrees short of "disco inferno".

Jesus... I just saw a commercial about a kid drawing the time he shot his dad in the gut with a handgun in crayon. I think it was a public service announcement... or something.

Speaking of crayons... I got some nifty crayons in the mail a few months ago. I think i'll go use them.

i love orange juice, and deluxe wheat bread from albertsons. i got the non-deluxe kind last time. i didnt know they made that shit. it was gross. but i ate it for like a month. the difference in price is like 40 cents, and the difference in taste is like 10,000 times.

i'm writing "young and gifted"
in my autobiography
i figure, who would know better than me?
i'm certainly the former
but i'm not so much the latter
but no-one's gonna read it
so i'm sure it doesn't matter

-sloan

i think i'll eat some crackers.

Ahh... I think it's safe to say that a lot of the idiosyncrosies of modern society scare me. One thing that scares me a lot is our need for trivia to be wisdom. We often attribute knowing the name of an author or a figure in history to being fairly intelligent. Now, is it possible for one to know the ideas and morals of one who spawned these things without ever knowing the person or his name? I would think so. I would hope so, for my sake. Intelligence doesn't come from a name or even the memorization of a passage in a book; It comes in the interpretation. An interpretation doesn't come well without support (i.e. past experience, convictions). Through high school I was taught to memorize passages and names -- oh, god how I would have loved school more if they ever asked me what I thought of these people and their ideas. But, my tests consisted of names and dates.

This isn't to say that it's bad to know names or dates -- they are reference and an aid; but they are of little importance when compared to the ideas.

Of course... maybe i'm missing the vital importance of knowing these things. It's happened before. I'm far less than perfect.

Today we are having some sort of Memorial Day barbeque. I guess this is kind of like the Canadian "May 2-4" tradition, only one week later, and with less beer. It means lots of free food. Unfortunately, Jacob is not here to partake. I'm sorry.

I think I'm starting to get really sick of root beer.

Also, SPICIER Nacho Doritos are TOO SPICY. I hate you goddamn americans and your ridiculously overdone snack food.

so... it turns out Jacob totally redesigned delerium again. This time he did it in his sleep, so I don't even think he knows yet. And as always, it looks exponentially better than last time. Its like every new thing he makes is Best, and the previous one suddenly is no longer Best. I guess this means that Jacob is always working at 100%, like a Japanese. Only he isn't Japanese, I saw him, I know.

So, the old root beer was Barq's, and the new root beer is A&W. They are subtly different. I kind of really liked the Barq's for whatever reason, so now I am making an effort to find A&W less pleasurable. It's all very psychological and you wouldn't understand. Probably the real reason is because Long paid for the Barq's and I paid for the A&W. Wait, that doesn't make sense.

I'm drinking my 3rd root beer. I think I'm getting addicted to root beer the way I was addicted to Orange Juice. Unfortunately, root beer is bad for you whereas orange juice has the goodness of real florida oranges. Root beer has the goodness of 'root', whatever the fuck that is.

...and me... well... I went to the bank today, to cash a check. I walked all the way there. Only, I forgot my deposit slip, but only noticed it when I was actually AT the bank. So, I walked all the way back and then forth. Then I went to the mall, found absolutley nothing interesting and started to walk back home. I passed the theater and, on a whim, decided to see A Knights Tale. It was sort of cheesy... but not in a bad way. Lots of people laughed at the silliness of the music being used... and it WAS silly... but it wasn't like they were pretending it wasn't. or something. The movie was nothing big, but it was fun to watch. Would I rather have spent my afternoon stealing volvos? Yes. But, since I didn't have that option, A Knights Tale worked for me.

this post will be an experiment in unpunctuation:

i had a double cheeseburger today it cost 99 cents also i bought some books by dianna wynne jones it turns out they published her chrestomanci books in 2 new compiled editions and those were like my favorite books when i was in 9th grade so i got them they rule it even has witch week but i couldn't find time of the ghost which is my favorite dianna wynne jones book also i bought some root beer cause i drank a whole bunch of the root beer and i felt guilty or something what else oh yeah we watched the escaflowne movie last night it sucked there was something else i wanted to post about but i forget oh wait yeah the radiohead album i listened to it today and it was pretty good i liked the new version of morning bell and also the big epicy songs with drums and stuff kind of like how to disappear completely and never be found but better anyway its coming out on june 5th so thats good

we did that thing again... where we don't post for like a while. sucky. but the truth is, i don't have anything to say right now.

i know it's only been a day since i posted about her... but it's mally's birthday today and she deserves a billion emails telling her that she's great. go to it!

i'm a dork.

the best girl ever made is back!

mal: by the way... the technical term we use around the studio nowadays is "J.O." ie, "josh is J.O.ing in his closet right now, can he call you back?"

jacob: but... you can't use that for girls... i think... i mean... i guess... well, when you think about it, how does "jack" become a guy thing to do anyway? is it because it's a guys name?

mal: yeah... feminists say "jill off"

jacob: oh... okay... even though i know you just made that up, i'll go with it...

mal: no... for real

jacob: nuh-uh!

mal: totally dude... i read it somewheres. you should look it up.

jacob: i hate to sound like an after school special... but drugs are fucked up. wait... i guess they wouldn't say drugs are fucked up in an after school special...

mal: well... not in those words.

I have something really important to tell you all.

The FUCKING Bangles are coming back with a new album and shit. And that link is their new official fanclub and shit.

What the FUCK is this world coming to?

The fucking BANGLES.

I'm going to download all their songs. The Bangles rule beyond all possible belief.

god. it's so quiet and lonely here. i really wish someone would call or stop by or something...

I walked into a bookstore on Grand in downtown LA that I had passed before on the bus a few times. Immediately I pulled up my camera to take a shot of the interior, as it was seemingly out of place in post-modern Downtown. Unfortunately, I had run out of space to take any more pictures. I had another card, but was a little embarrassed, as it had seemed that I'd already taken a photo. So I decided to forego the picture and just take a mental snapshot. I walked in and sort of skimmed over various old and worn books. Someone, who was most likely the owner of the store, crept around a stand with a broom and asked me if I needed any help. I asked him if he could recommend any good books. He looked at me with a crooked face and asked me what it was I thought they did there. I was embarrassed again and said that I thought that maybe they sold books. He told me that it was a very keen observation and went on to ask whether I had just graduated college or something without bothering to answer my initial question. I said that's it's been quite some time since I've been in college. He just nodded. He asked me what I was interested in and I said I'd been reading a lot of Salinger lately, which led him to tell me that he was very popular, but they didn't carry him there. So I asked him again what he would recommend. He asked me if I liked Faulkner and I almost shrieked with excitement as I told him that I'd heard a bit about him lately. He picked up an old faded book called Sanctuary and handed it to me. I said thank you and told him I loved the store, it was beautiful - partly to justify trying to take a photo and partly to let him know that his store was, in fact, beautiful, just in case he didn't know. He just laughed and said to wait until he finished sweeping. I told him that it was beautiful with dust or not. I purchased the book and he suggested I go to the hotel up the street where they have elevators that protrude from the building if I'd like to get some nice photos. I thanked him and felt embarrassed again as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror; a scruffy young kid in a beautiful distinguished bookstore.

I spent most of the day downtown. Taking photos and observing people. I went to the Museum of Contemporary Arts and sort of wished a certain someone was there with me. I felt very small and very hot. Downtown is a big place in small area. The streets are overshadowed, literally, by the high rise buildings lining them. People and cars are all over the place...

Reading "For Esme - With Love and Squalor" on the way home, I had to sit on a bench after I got off the bus so I could finish the story. I almost cried as I read Esmes letter. Were I home, I would have... but the heat from the sun beating down on the bench only caused my throat to bubble and my eyes to blur... and left me sitting, sort of darting my eyes around to see who had seen my bottom lip quiver... But, I came to the conclusion that it didn't matter, stuck the book back in my bag and walked the block or so distance home. Hello.

I'm jacob and I'll be goddamned if I wasn't born cheesy.

Random story:

When we were big anime nerds back in like, grade 11, one time sherman's mom made him hang out with this Japanese (Japanese-from-Japan) girl. Her name was ... something. I forget. Aki. I dunno. A-something. Anyway, we hung out with her one time whilst watching shit like Ranma 1/2 and Tenchi Muyo, and wouldn't you know, the only Japanese girl we ever meet has never watched anime and finds it stupid and nerdy.

Isn't that just great?

This is the stuff of which life is made.

Considering the possibility that i am allergic to girls, or at least to the idea of Girls That Are Cool. They stimulate me in bizarre and unsexual ways, usually causing my brain / heart / soul to react adversely. I also have Fear when pondering the possibility of meeting and/or interacting with them. This Fear makes me want to get back into bed and shiver.

Examples of Girls That Are Cool: mally, alice, claire.

Stop them before they destroy us all.

Everytime I brush my teeth, I think of you...

i guess i could post this new comic here... and i guess if anyone sees it, they could maybe leave a comment regarding it... i guess...

Okay... I just took a short nap... and had the most fucked up dreams ever. They were like American Pie, but with new situations and more fucked up. Don't even ask me how this shit crawled into my brain.

So, the first one started off with me in bed... wait... first off, I think all these dreams occured in a camp of some sort... but the camp was meant for young adults of ages 16-21 or some shit. I dunno. Anyway, the first dream started off with me in bed. The bedroom I was in... wasn't really a bedroom... it was like a hallway where people passed in and out all the time. There were people walking around... I was half awake/slowly moving towards fully awake. I was resting. Then I rolled over, facing the doorway - which was about 5 feet from the edge of the bed - and none other than pop-folk singer Jewel walked in. She just sort of stopped there for a second and got a little close... I seemed to be attracted to her in the dream... Anyway, she looked down under the covers and mumbled the word "Depeche" and walked over to the dresser. She took off her shirt and changed it - which didn't seem to be that strange... there were other guys in the room changing as well. It seemed to be the designated changing area. Then she walked out... I decided to get up now... and I find out that all I'm wearing are boxers - which isn't that strange, but seemed to surprise me a little. So, now i'm changing my shirt and a guy walks in - apparently my friend. Let's call him Bob. So, Bob walks in and suddenly says, "Dude, Jewel just said you have an ass like Daves from Depeche Mode!"

... Now... apparently, there really is a guy named David in Depeche Mode... I know this because I just looked it up on the internet. But, were it not for that, I wouldn't know. It seems however, that my subconscious is a veritable Depech Mode Trivia Powerhouse... or something... jesus.

So... the fact that Jewel said my ass looked like Daves from Depeche Mode didn't really seem to phase me... for some reason. What did phase me - and with good reason - was when Bob yelled out, "So let's see it, dude... so we can compare..." which was followed by a gregarious "Yeah!" from the other 20 or so men in the room. And they fucking meant it. At this point, a lot of things were going through my head... as they inched closer to me. I yelped, "What... dude, why...? NO... it... how the hell would you know what Daves ass looks like anyway?!"

... And Bob replied, "He's got this thing with the hair on his ass... it kind of ripples... C'mon, off with the shorts."

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

At this point I started backing out through the door and into the hall... where they followed me. I ran into a big group of people and tried to make some diversionary comment followed by a quick break to... somewhere... just running. Which sort of failed as they yelled "Tackle him!" and... tackled me...

Luckily my dream cut away to another "scene" before they actually ripped all my clothes off...

The other scene just seemed to be a transitional scene where I found out that my car had been submerged in water. But it didn't bother me that my car was submerged - it bothered me that my trunk wouldn't close, so everything I had in it kept floating out...

So... that transitioned to a car ride. The car ride didn't leave much room for anything strange... or so I thought. For some reason, whoevers car we were in only had two seats... but we needed to carry four people... so two people would sit in the seats, and the driver and another passenger would sit on their laps. One of the passengers was a 400 lb man who we'll call George. You'd think that we'd work it out so George would sit in the seat... but no... we decided that I better sit in the seat and let George sit on my lap... with no shirt on...

So... for awhile it wasn't that bad... a little heavy... a little sweaty... but nothing I couldn't handle. Until the other guys started joking about farting. George laughed and made it clear that he was about to... and I just screamed out in terror. The other guys in the car seemed to be enjoying it. The joking only lasted for a second before George just let one go...

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before.... but my senses are very keen in dreams. Meaning that I actually feel things, taste things and... smell things. At times, this can be very nice... at other times... Hoping that it's only a dream doesn't help me at all...

So... the first one he let off consisted of me trying to push him off - with futile results, since there was nowhere to push him to. The other boys laughter got even louder as he did it... it was a short one though... and they soon started to scream when they realized it was about to smell. But... this one didn't smell... and they scolded me for being such a nancy boy... George wasn't satisfied, though. He was determined to destroy us all with his deadly odor... So... he let another one go... and this one was the longest fart in fart history. I wasn't concerned so much with how it would smell anymore... but more concerned with how it felt. It felt wrong. Very wrong. There was vibration. These things should not happen. Ever.

But, I woke up in the middle of that. My brain hates me.

photos:

when we were young at heart

* * * * * * * * * * *

now you're all alone
lying in a cold sweat
does it plague your mind?

does a sense of loss
and overwhelming regret
seem to plague your mind
the way it's plaguing mine?

--novillero

Okay... I spent all day resting... yesterday was tiring. I walked around for eight hours with a heavy backpack on... and then almost got stranded in downtown LA... But... it was totally fun...

I got there early and grabbed a bunch of free stuff - which is what caused my backpack to become heavy. I got a CD case, a bunch of magazines, a small foam replica of the Gamecube, a t-shirt... and other stuff... I don't remember. The expo was all right... other years have been better... There was a girl working at the Universal booth who I swore I'd seen before. So I asked her if she worked in the Universal building, and she said, "Yeah..." and i said "cool, so did I..." and she told me her name and then I left.

I also saw PMBQ as I was sitting out at the bus stop... we talked about stuff...

I saw some video games at the show... but I don't really feel like getting into that... IGN has some stuff if you want to know about that. I'm just all about the obscure stuff.

Oh... photos for day 2. You guys know that all the images have alt text, right? yeah... they do...

I read "Franny and Zooey", by JD Salinger. mally recommended it. It was kind of quite good. It was mainly -- kind of like Catcher in the Rye this way -- sort of about the idea that most everyone is kind of terrible and egotistical and self-serving, but that we have to live with all these people anyway, and hell, we're all of us like that too. And there was a lot about Jesus, but it was more of a Joseph Campbell approach to Jesus, at least as I saw it, more about the ideas behind the stories, the philosophy. Franny and Zooey are both actors, and so this book took more of an artist's viewpoint, which resonates more with me, which helped me relate to the things they were saying.

So anyway, it was good. And what was also good is the way it was written on the whole, which was basically as a series of conversations -- first between Franny and her boyfriend, then between Zooey (Franny's older brother) and their mother, and then two conversations between Franny and Zooey. Of course there was narration throughout, and it was a kind of detached omniscient narrative that sort of gets on my nerves, but it didn't get in the way of the brilliant dialogue and the really gripping battle of ideologies and shit that went on in these conversations. Dialogue is where things happen for me. I like stories about peoples' mental environments and their fucking skewed visions of the world more than those about people jumping off buildings and driving around in cars. Especially when I'm writing them.

In less pretentious and pseudo-literate news, I drink way too much fucking orange juice. I think I'm addicted. It's an expensive habit, but I guess it's cheaper than crack.

I went to E3 today. Lookie. I'll probably go again tomorrow.

I drank a lot of orange juice today. My friend came over. We played songs. We looked for Cowboy Junkies. He played Ferrari F55 Challenge and we laughed at the 80's hair metal soundtrack. He left. I ate a sandwich. With wheat bread. It's kind of funny how I grew up not liking wheat bread... but now I like it. Actually, I don't think I ever didn't like it. I think the government doesn't want anyone to be healthy, so they plant the thought that wheat bread is bad into childrens minds.

My orange juice has added calcium. Why?

i wrote a new song. and since hotmail isn't working, and i can't email it to my friends, i figured i'd just post it here. since all my friends come here anyway... and like, nobody else comes here...

"desolay"

she never did think much of herself
she was more concerned with everybody else
always worried about how they felt
never one to curse them out
the kids would make her cry almost every day
her mom and dad said it would turn out okay
but those tears kept streaming down her face
could this be her fate?
her face was dirty and her eyes were red
she screamed into her pillow
that she would rather just be dead
but then what did she know?

she can't stop the birds from singing
she can't stop her brain from thinking
she wants to die
she doesn't want to die
she just wants something to believe in
some fresh air that she could breathe in
but what does she know?

he was the kind of kid you don't even see
he walks around invisibly
he says important things and no-one cares
it's like he isn't there
with all his frustration and his rage
he screams into the night
that they'll all be so sorry someday
but who knows if he's right?

well he can't stop the waves from crashing
and he can't make those kids come ask him
what he has to say
he just wants to say
that he needs something to believe in
some fresh air that he could breathe in
but what does he know?

i am not
the kind of guy you go to
when you want
answers to the questions that plague you
i have not
done anything useful
since the day she left
i can count on the fingers of one hand
all the things that i know
life is quite hard to understand
so let's take it slow
cos i can't stop the world from turning
and i can't stop my ears from burning
i want to cry but i can't cry
i want to die i don't want to die
i just want something to believe in
some fresh air that i could breathe in
i just want you

mal: i want to grow up to be a predator. then i can be invisible, and kill people.

jacob: and go into girls locker rooms...

mal: yeah. and... kill them, probably. with either laser beams... or claws.

jacob: maybe... i'm not sure if i'd kill them... but, i wouldn't stop you if you wanted to...

mal: well... predators like killing things. it's kind of what they do.

jacob: oh yeah... that's true...

mal: they also like recording soundbites, and playing them back.

jacob: which you already do...

new Weezer album one line review. No.. one WORD:

Disappointing.

Now i have another few weeks to wait until the new radiohead. Hooray for mainstream music.

Observation:

Blogger makes communication, and privacy, and my own personal mental environment, all very strange and new.

So does the whole internet, I guess, but Blogger made the strangeness all bite-sized and digestible and user-friendly.

*********

Addendum:

Everything is weird.

At the beginning of this year -- which, incidentally, is the fabled year 2001 -- I was starting back at school, starting to hang out in the science library where I used to work, starting to sink into in the ancient 70s chairs in the film students' lounge, running into friends along snowy paths on campus.

Now it's a long hot summer. I'm in California. I hang out and watch movies with people that I would never have met if it wasn't for the Internet. I made a giant leap to get from that snow and that film lounge to this house and the trees and the sun and the beautiful sky. And here I am, just taking each step one after the next, trying to accept my life for what it is. Even when that life is lying in a pile of old clothes under a Goodwill trailer at 2 AM, something that I basically would not have ever been doing before.

I think what I'm saying is that I need to appreciate things more, appreciate the gravity of where I am and what I'm supposed to be doing. Not that I don't enjoy life -- I do. I laugh and I smile and everything is wonderful. But maybe I'm allowing myself to settle into routines too easily.

*********

Unrelated: I really like Rowley the bear. He has this nice detergent smell from going through the wash. He is smaller than PJ, the bear that I had back home since I was about 10 years old, but he is nice. Incidentally, as far as I know, PJ the bear never went through the wash. PJ's fur used to be silky and smooth and have individual strands, but now it is matted and clumpy and has an entirely different texture. Rowley's fur is like this too (clumpy), but I think he was made like that -- many stuffed animals apparently are, these days.

I decided to name my bear Rowley. so much for getting help from the Internet!

I got some books from the library. They are: (1) Microserfs, by Douglas Coupland, which i have read before; (2) About a Boy, by Nick Hornby, which i have read about half of before; (3) Breakfast of Champions, by Kurt Vonnegut, which I have not read; (4) Franny and Zooey, by J.D. Salinger, which someone told me to read -- refresh my memory as to who that was; and (5) I forget. something. it was probably something good.

I previously read some more Vonnegut, specifically Cat's Cradle (1963) and Galapagos (1985). Cat's Cradle is more of a classic, but I enjoyed Galapagos more, I think. It's about evolution, and humanity's decline and renewal over the next million years, and is very entertaining and ironical and stuff.

I haven't done anything else, except I got locke to watch The Sweet Hereafter, and he wasn't even able to hate it. Or pretend to hate it. Fucking contrary asshole americans.

speaking of cool things... i just went to the 99 cent store...

i got these crooked emo glasses, a tiny skateboard that says "Dream (tm)" on it (?), some jumbo multi-colored pencils (picture not available for legal reasons)... and vanilla cookies (picture also not available... because, really, i didn't want to take any more). this 99 cent store was pretty big. some guy was even nice enough to share his 99 cent store joy with us: "oh my god! this is like the motherload of 99 cent stores! it's like heaven for only a DOLLAR!"

it was fantastic.

i guess i should post something.

so,

i found a bear at the goodwill drop. the bear's tag says copyright 1999. he's a young bear. i have adopted him. he was wearing a baby's nightie. i adopted the nightie as well. i have to think of a name for the bear. he is very nice. he was probably expensive. i don't know why anyone would throw him away. i'll show the bear the love he deserves.

my love is real. but my bear is not.

in other news, it's a beautiful day.

i think i get some sort of guilty pleasure out of liking Sade... i mean... i think this music is supposed to be for like... getting your groove on... or whatever. but i totally enjoy just sitting and listening to it...

so... my day... my day consisted of going to the grocery store... which is sort of a big event for me. the last time i went to the grocery store was when i visited mal and locke. today wasn't as fun as that... but... still... it was the grocery store. the grocery store is a totally magical place. i wish i grew up in a grocery store. it's like a playground. it's one of the best places in the world to play hide and seek... and the lighting in grocery stores makes for excellent photos...

i didn't do any of these things today... we just bought wheat bread and cheese and orange juice and celery... but it was still sort of enjoyable.

anyway... i can't wait to get out of here and be in a place where i'll be singing and skating and kissing... only a month away...

i hate when i start getting depressed over "what if"'s...

god... i'm terrible and unjustifiably sad... and i don't even know why. sorry. i'm going to lay down now. i'll feel better later...

hey i found this dude on mp3.com. he's pretty good and he's from my hometown, London ontario. you fuckers should check him out.

wearing crutches in my bed
taking a shower with the dead
crying over a city of millions
drinking with their minions
raining on your day hat
kissed your face with that
sorry for the trouble
a smile costs double
i'm making believe
the ingredients are free
carry your hands
they are heavy and bland
fold your body
and mail it with curry
a great meal for the children
to feast on and love then
walk away like they never cared
like you never even bared
your soul to the world
like you're not naked and curled
up in dress shirts and sheets
careful not to mess the pleats
but it never mattered
if you were born tattered
you only stay that way
if you forget that beyond grey
there is an ocean
a plan not set in motion
keep it out of this
plans are for the past and this
this is for everything we are
we treat ourselves like cars
pushing to our destination
making life an initiation
for something possibly bigger
heaven, hell, coffee, tea. i wonder
does it mean anything to see
a truck wrapped around a tree
given up and mangled
staying tangled
well, you can stay there
i wouldn't force you to care
what good is talk
just get out. let's walk

I had this drink called Odwalla, which has 2000 percent of the recommended daily vitamin C intake. i'm not sure how i should feel right now. especially since i had about 3/4 of a jug of orange juice yesterday. i think i might go into vitamin C shock. unfortunately, my mom has repeatedly told me that there is no such thing.

speaking of my mom, tomorrow is mother's day. i hope you all do something nice for your mom. or at least do something pathetic, like call her collect to tell her you love her, the way i will.

something else: we found this ice cream bar in the road when we were voluntarily picking up litter. it was one of those hagen daaz type bars, in a little box, and then in a wrapper inside the box. it had been on the road long enough for the box to lose its color and fade from the elements. locke opened it up. it was like peering into a freshly-shat-in toilet. a wall of odor suddenly assaulted our tiny and weak senses. we stumbled to the dumpster, screaming and grabbing all the other discarded fast food cups and wrappers that we saw on the way. it was wonderful.

"A Knight's Tale" is like an 80s sports movie, or a "save the store" movie. A big stupid teenage movie starring John Cusack or something. Only Heath Ledger is the sexiest man alive, and this movie is set in the middle ages, and it's about knights jousting. But that doesn't stop it from having dyed punk hairstyles, Final Fantasy 8 style costume designs, a medieval coreographed dance number set to David Bowie's "The Golden Years", and classic sports songs backing up the key moments.

Yes, you're right: it's the best summer movie ever. Especially for nerds like us.

* * * *

ok... so... anything... hmm... no. well, i updated my comic actually. the latest part is right here. also i got some new granola, it is the tasty kind. and i had a krispy kreme donut. 2 actually. someone kept telling me they were the best donuts in the world, and I was skeptical, but i think maybe he's right. although i would really have to have a tim horton's sour cream glazed donut and a krispy kreme glazed donut side by side to do the pepsi challenge thing properly.

i think that's all.

ahhhhh! they totally changed voice actors and even *dialogue* for the Akira re-release...

i woke up to my roommates boyfriend yelling through our front window to my roommate. i assume he walked outside and left the door locked, and that my roommate was still sleeping. i totally heard him. but i didn't get up. he must have been yelling for 10 minutes...

i didn't get to see Akira. it's still playing today... at the mall. of all places. so i'll probably get ready and walk over for the 4 pm showing...

if there's one thing in the world i'm bad at, it's relationships. i don't know what to do. it's just... the combination of being nervous and unexperienced... i grew up totally independent. an only child. when i was younger i kept to myself more... but, not so much anymore. i don't know... i'm okay in groups of people that i know... and a lot of times i'm good with people i don't know... but, sometimes i just get absolutely quiet.

i'm not sure, but i think there are certain things you're supposed to say to people in social conversations. because, i have conversations... and i say things... and i talk... and people just look at me funny. like, i broke the conversation. and i just feel like a little kid who spilled milk all over the kitchen table. it was an accident. and, like running away and hiding in my room, i just sit back, fold my arms and become quiet.

and... with people that i really care about... i hate hearing that they're depressed... and i'd do anything or say anything to make them feel better... but, sometimes i just don't know what to say or do. i mean, maybe it's not my job... but GOD, i'd still like to help. so i say things... and maybe the wrong things... and i feel bad.

anyway, i love you guys.

blogger is getting upgrades tonight... jacob went out to see Akira or something, so he probably doesn't know. anyway... yeah. Akira. i want to see that too. the new restored akira in theaters. i read practically the entire comic the other night. it's like five million pages or something. this guy has limited edition hardcover color copies of all 6 volumes. except volume 6 is buried somewhere in the garage, so i'll never find out how it ends.

here's something... some new pictures of me, thanks to jen.

just finished reading "the perks of being a wallflower" (by stephen chbosky).

it was pretty fucking great.

i hope you all get a chance to read it and enjoy it sometime.

like... my friend rey left me a voicemail. which you can hear... here.

mally left me messages also, but you can't hear those because they're only for me to swoon over...

oh, but wait... you haven't left me a voicemail yet... have you? silly delerium readers...

888-470-7856

i just finished reading my book. it was called "Brave new girl" and it was by Louisa Luna. i hope that's a pen name. anyway, you can probably find it on amazon or some shit. it was a pretty good book. the best thing about it is that it's so fucking nice looking. it's hard not to judge a book by its cover when it's the 2nd best package ever designed.

if you're wondering, the 1st best packaging design award goes to "The perks of being a wallflower" by... someone. its published by the same people. i think unfortunately those people are MTV. but at least they're like, showing an interest in young people in the arts or some shit like that. yeah. justify justify.

so anyway, it was a good book, i recommend it. it wasnt as good as Girlfriend in a Coma though. but it was different. its just sort of a slice of life. its not even very original. but it's fairly well written. it's about a 14 year old girl who hates all the cliquey people and listens to the Pixies and shit. sound familiar? yeah it sounds like every 14 year old girl i know, actually (except usually they listen to Bikini Kill or something, because the pixies are too old). which is probably just a problem of being on the internet and on blogger sites, because i think every rebellious 14 year old girl starts a blogger site these days. i might make a comic about it.

i feel hot and dirty. i might just take a shower. except my clothes are in the dryer. oh well.

mally and matthew were talking about teddy ruxpin, and that reminded me of Bingo the Bear. when we were kids, we had this cheap teddy ruxpin knock off bear called Bingo the Bear. he was dark brown and fuzzy and had a bandana on. Shit. that reminds me, my teddy bear PJ used to wear a bandana too. i totally forgot about that. he came with a ribbon, but i got rid of that shit and put a blue bandana on him for years. I think what happened is the bandana got untied and i could never figure out how to tie it again, to this very day. plus i forgot about it entirely for years until now.

anyway, back to Bingo. basically he was this battery powered motherfucker who would say a random phrase whenever you squeezed his nose. i think he was like a puppet too, so you could put your hand up his ass and squeeze his nose from the inside and then pretend to talk along with whatever he was saying. see, cheap knockoff teddy ruxpin. teddy's mouth actually moved. however, bingo had less shit inside him, so you could hug him better.

ANYWAY. the real point is that bingo said some ferociously stupid shit. he also had a really doofy voice. He always wanted to be your friend. which is ok. then he would get you to scratch him. which was perverted. "Can you scratch my. EAR?" or "Can you scratch my. HEAD?" and then he would go "A little higher" or "A little lower". and he would say stuff like "Are your knees made of cheese?" and "Do you live in a cave?" and then eventually, for no apparent reason, he would go "I really like being your friend, but I have to go now." and he would fucking shut down. very traumatic.

bingo the bear rules.

umm... damn... i've had nothng to say for the past few days... and then i did.... but i said most of it to mal...

umm... so... i took the train to downtown LA yesterday... around Union Station. i took lots of pictures, which will probably be put in DBP over the next few weeks.

while i was there, i found this place called Olvera street. it's like mexico... except in downtown LA... it was weird. i was just walking down the street, i turn a corner and bam: mexico. sort of. it had all these restaurants and street vendors and it was crowded. it's nice to find something like that. it's nice to be surprised. i wanted to sit down and eat... but i... didn't.

it was particularly surprising because chinatown is literally just a block away. so, you go from this dominant chinese culture to this dominant mexican culture in like 50 feet. that's *so* LA, though...

so, yeah... rah.

jacob: i think mp3.com are a bunch of money grubbing bastards...

mal: yeah... they totally are. i mean... obviously.

jacob: they just sit around and grub money and shit...

radiomaru: yeah... they're all grubby.

oh. oh god. oh.

i really think my new comic is just leagues worse than glorious you. it used to be that every new comic i did was the best i'd ever done. now it's like everything i do is steadily worse than the previous work. IT ALL GETS TO SEEMING PRETTY POINTLESS.

thank you for pretending to care, though. thank you for being TRICKED by my sucky ass art. it's drawn with sharpies, you know. movie stars sign autographs with those. punks write things on transit bus seats with those. comics are not made with them. except online comics designed to TRICK you into thinking that they look good. and you're TRICKING me into thinking you appreciate it. or so you think. but you're not really. i'm onto you. you sneaky devils i am on to you yes i am.

to the two of you that care, or whatever -- LOCKED IN THE TRUNK OF A CAR is updated. and i changed it up a little, since i'm finally done ACT 1. hopefully i will be more consistent for the rest of the comic, which will continue with INTERLUDE 1 tomorrow.

there is apparently a new orbital album coming out (or out this week) in the UK. and a new 2-part single has been out for a while. why was i not informed? m? what's up?? fucking ORBITAL!!!

dear diary

no one told me my skirt was riding up. we walked all around the mall. then my brother was laughing at me and i realized. it was so embarassing. later kelly came over and we laughed at the new magazine she got. JC is hot though.

secret: kelly told me she really likes neal.

i fell down on my bed and just kind of laid there for a long while... there was this huge wash of sound coming from the crack in my window that just won't close up. it all lingered. it was noisy... but nice. i could hear the kids right below my window on the street laughing at something... playing on their razor scooters. and the couple across the street, i could hear them yelling. someone pulled into our garage, probably after a long day of work. you can hear the freeway outside my window also... that's like thousands of people, all locked in their leather lined worlds. all people i might never know... or people that i might meet tomorrow. but they all passed today, while i rested.

there are so many things going on. so many people. yet, somehow, the majority of the world still manages to feel lonely on a regular basis...