The Earth According to Mark.

I finished reading Love That Dog by Sharon Creech.

I hate
poetry
because most
of the time
it's
com pl et e
bull
shit.

But this book really got me thinking about looking to more poetry to see what it's all about. Hm. Last night, I was sitting down, frantically trying to complete the my post-lab for chemistry lab, when I looked across from me and realized that - man, I have it good.

Moving out. Hm.
I keep writing about this and posting pictures. Pre-nostalgia much? Probably. Anyways, picture above is last view before leaving. So many memories. Hearts got broken in that apartment; lovers slept on couches; screams and doors slamming; I made a joke to my roommate's boyfriend - he would come on Friday nights and leave on Monday mornings. I told him that it reminded me of a little boy watching his father leave ("Don't leave daddy! Don't leave!" I joked). Ironically, when I made that joke, it was really his last time there - my roommate and he broke up. New chapters being written. New futures being molded. The world is a crazy place and history is...now.

Turning in keys was nostalgic. Slipped an extra copy in my pocket; put it on the sun sheild of my car. A reminder of 12B - that apartment saved me. The best desicion I ever made. So odd.

So many things happening: job interview tomorrow. Actually got asked for two interviews from two different places. Won't name names. They're interviews, not job offers. Prayers still; battle isn't over.

Neither is my homework. Later blogsphere.

Am I the only one who thinks Michael Jackson faked his own death?

As of approximately 3 PM on Tuesday afternoon, I will no longer be a resident of 12B. I am responsible for turning in the keys. Jessica. Gone. Eddie. Gone. Bei Bei. Gone.

Goodbye apartment.

In the past four years I've moved more times in a two year period than most people have their entire college career. Just a run through: In 2005 I moved from Bakersfield, CA to Calmindon in Irvine, CA. As far as I knew, Calmindon was a transfer-hall-now-first-years-hall [due to an increase in students enrolled]. My first roommate was a Persian guy named John who ended up transferring to USC his second year of college. After Calmindon I lived for a whole summer in San Marino Apartments...alone. I recorded an album and heavily believed the apartment to be haunted. Towards the end, Eloise (my high school friend who was subleasing a room to me) moved in, and I remember her boyfriend and her would fight about his MySpace Top 8. And they'd do it in the middle of the night so it always freaked the hell out of me. I moved in to Parkwest (3801) for a whole school year with my cousin. That summer, I moved in to Vista Del Campo Norte, but I couldn't get someone to sublease my Parkwest apartment on time, so I ended up having two apartments that summer. Argh. Financial disaster. As a result, I didn't have a car for a summer and a year. I was dwindled down to eating bologna sandwiches.

So all was resolved and I moved back to Parkwest, but this time with Eddie, Jessica, and some girl they found off Craigslist named Bei Bei. So that's sort of where the story began - and now after two years I'm leaving. It's been a journey, especially because I treated moving into Parkwest [again] as a new beginning. Successfully it was. There's been rough times. But there's been more good times. I'd go over all of them, but it's better if they gestate for nostalgia.

So in two days I will no longer be in this apartment and will instead be at my new temporary home - Berkeley Court with Sherry and Jen. Hopefully I get a job (prayers?) and the rest...well.

Let go and let God.

Last night was my roommate Eddie-Spaghetti's going away party. I got owned by jello shots, but 'Lene saved my liver and even put me to bed. Damn, last night, I just had that feeling - somewhere between doing an impromptu dance/singing-musical ("Boy You're Creeping Me Out") and Albatross...well I got that feeling that I have everything I've ever wanted. So when I wonder what's next...I just wonder what's still up for grabs. Job? Pharmacy school? Supplementary. I could die at this moment, and I'd be happy.

Summer - okay, now let's have some fun.

I was going to write about how I'm aiming to apply to atleast ten CVS/Pharmacy locations by the end of next week, but with all these people dying (Farah Fawcett - whom my mom has a picture with and Micahel Jackson - definitely an inspiration in my younger years), I seriously thought about pseudocide today. Nope, not suicide, Pseudocide. Faking my own death and disappearing only to remerge years later. I just wonder what the reprecussions would be. Would the time between my "death" and "re-emergence" be an odd time for myself personally? What would I even do? Would I be hailed a hero or denounced as a fake?

Strange thoughts indeed.

In relevance to my friend Mark's birthday:


(22 in less than 2 weeks.)

I want to believe I have a healthy obsession with Arizona green tea.

I don't feel like myself anymore. In the sense that, for a while I've never been one to give up. I've pulled all-nighters and I've seen the A's that scream it was worth it. But at the same time, it's made me a cynic. It's really chipped away at my exterior. Granted there's a larger variable in play (euphemistically expressed: abandonment of vices), but lately, I just feel like I need a break. Somewhere to lay my head down and soak in the breeze. Every part of my body hurts; from moving? Perhaps. (Two huge couches in a twenty minute period; plus drawers/cabinets and a host of other shit.) School isn't killing me; I just want a job already - to move forward.

And the other day I realized I'm not a family man. I'm scared to have my own family. I don't want to be a father...

Because I don't want to be disappointed in my children.

Transformers 2 in roughly t-minus 26 hours. Excited? Wasn't so much until LA this past weekend.

Trying to find a job or volunteer opportunity. Really trying. Going to make some calls tomorrow and sometime in the next few days drive around the bordering cities of Irvine to as many Rite Aids and Walgreens as I can hit. I need to fax a resume tomorrow and send out a resume as well. Praying and fighting. More of the latter.

Other than that: I went to my lab today and no one was there. Found out there was no lab today and it starts on Thursday. Frustrated, I went home and had the angriest dream I've ever had. I can't remember details, but I was yelling for the most part. About to going to Boiling Crab. Birthday in two weeks...22 in about 2 weeks. New apartment in a week. Moved out most of my stuff out of here (Parkwest); still need to buy a box to load my other stuff. Sherry's is going to be different; near school. I will have a car too. Hmmm.

Closing words...

I'm like a shooting star. I've come so far. I can't go back to where I used to be...

Over the years - since high school - I've tried to keep my planners. Largely because they usually have little tid bits here and there; one liners and mini-stories that I have written over the course of the year. Just a few scans from most recently.

UCLA. Iranian protesters. St. Paul the Apostle. Orochon Ramen (from Man V. Food). More Iranian protesters. Transformers 2 premiere being set up. Diddy Riese. Transformerz 3. Possibly being in a movie (The Buried Life).

A good day in LA. But what's on my mind right now is: What do you want to do before you die? Never thought about it. But now I am.

Also, on the car ride, Charlene and I were listening to Loveline, and this guy called about how to stop smoking pot, and he has this super-uber-pothead mentality: "I need to stop smoking pot so I can get a job...and then when I get a job I can start smoking pot again..." Love it.

PS. Do you ever feel like God is telling something to you, but you're too blinded by your doubt to really want to understand it?

Is it pretentious that I already know that the next album I'm going to write is going to be called In the Bone and it's going to deal with post-college life?

I'm very excited right now because I'm so-so many vocal tracks [plus one whole song] away from finishing this monstrosity of an album that took me about three years to complete. But to be honest, it could not have come out before now; just being done with college has allowed to look back at those four years with an open head. From depression to addiction to rehabilitation to redemption. It's all there.

More than ever.

Believe.

In less than seventeen hours I will be back in Irvine. I'm watching Superjail! and about to record the "fuzz bass" plus guitars plus vocals for a song called "The Miracle of the Sun."

I'm trying to move from less "philosophical/things I think when I'm high"-types of blogs to "day-by-day routine with slight commentary"-types of blogs. So bear with the change. (Is it "bare?") Anyways, Thursday was fantastic: Discovery Science Center to Shinsengumi (sp?) Hakata Ramen to Mochilato to Sticki Picki. Friday morning I drove back to a very, very, very x2394083290 hot Bakersfield. I took a mad long nap and then Kurt joined me on a venture to AAA then Guitar Center then hair cut (yeah hair cut). I went to dinner with my parents then back to Guitar Center to pick out a graduation-slash-birthday present. I think I'm going to buy a Korg keyboard tomorrow...hopefully. Trying to decide between that a significantly cheaper keyboard. The only draw back is the latter is way too slow on my computer in terms of processing. So I went over to Kurt's later in the night and we played some Left 4 Dead. I did manage to do a few songs here and there. Nice.

I was less than 2% from straight A's.

After an hour of sifting and mixing a one channel track, I came to the conclusion that trying to extract songs out of Tuesday's jam session would be futile, so instead I just kept it as one large file. We're officially dubbing it: The Black Box Recording Sessions or more easily said:

Yesterday's jam session: David, Kurt, Damon, and myself - with JD playing GameCube. Definitely can tell guitar is not my forte anymore. Definitely vibin' better at drums, bass, and piano. Played thermin for the first time today - really interesting. David let me borrow his bells, and I want to see how nuts I can go with that. I'll upload the session online so people can give it a quick listen. It's an hour long (eight parts/movements). We're dubbing it as the Black Box Recording Sessions.

Other than that, very productive day. And I have another productive day to start in a few hours. Perhaps carne asada fries later today? (They call them "super fries" here in Bakersfield, CA.) Actually, the other day Damon, JD, and I went to this little place called Alfonso's. The drive-thru runs right in front of the entrance; it's really strange. Well, I had their super fries, and man - nothing beats the stuff I've gotten in SoCal. They put refried beans on everything here and it makes everything taste like mush.

So we finish our meal, and the workers tell us that some guy locked himself in the bathroom. At one point, they think JD is the guy, asking him, "Why were you in the bathroom for an hour?" So the workers are knocking on the door and someone inside knocks back and yells. Damon and I offer to help, but they tell us the manager is coming down to open the door for them to see what's up.

Yeah that's my story. Goodnight.

It's 5:20 AM in the morning, and I can't sleep because I'm jamming with some friends in a few hours! Wait not friends, brothers; fellow causalities of the pop-punk scene that took us for our dreams and left us nothing.

I just realized I haven't done titles for my personal blogs in a long time. Strange.

Anyways, on my first day "out," I woke up at 2:30 PM, went to my friend's house to print out directions to my ophthalmologist's office, went to my ophthalmology appointment, deposited my graduation money, came home, recorded a song, ate dinner with my parents, and now I'm of to my friend's house to get what he claims is the best damn Mexican food in the world.

I doubt it.

Things to do this week: Study and register for my pharmacy tech exam, finish up some cover letters and resumes, open a new bank account.

I think I'm one of those people who take initiative when the time is right. As Radiohead says, "Everything in its right place."

Day one after my commencement ceremony. I don't know what to write; I feel that there's so much emphasis in this world about famous last words that we often forget the importance of the first few words. Maybe we misconstrue first words for first impressions. What were the first few words you said as a child? Etc. Either way.

This is the first time in my life that I have no idea what is going to happen next.

(I've never been so scared.)