Thursday, December 15, 2011

I like PowerPoint

I made this last night for several people. I found that it's easily customizable. I'll show you Cade's version because he appreciated it the most. Enjoy.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I Wish I Were A Fish


I could swim and hide in the big blue ocean. There’s coral and caves and nooks and crannies. If I were a blue fish I’d be invisible. Or rather, camouflaged.

See, you can barely see me. A lot of people would prefer to be sharks instead of small fish at the other end of the food chain.

Note: The food chain is not a chain necklace made out of food. Although they do make candy necklaces. A fun thing to do with candy necklaces is to bite half of the candy ring off, and then fling half of the candy at other people using the elastic necklace. Sometimes it hits them in the eye and you’ll get embarrassed and remorseful. Those feelings will probably only last 5 minutes.

I would not mind being a shark, but if I had a choice, I would not be one. There are plenty of pros in favor of shark life. Bitches don’t front. But, sharks are born with a natural addiction. Did you ever see Terry the Bum living in his tent under the Perry Street bridge? Scary Terry was always cracked out of his mind.

The best advice of my life I received from Scary Terry. In 8th grade, we were on a field trip to climb the Rock. Terry, his long gnarly locks strewn in the wind, road by on his bicycle and rang his bell as he rode past. Through his unkempt beard he yelled, “Stay in school, kids!” I’m currently in school.

Cocaine, in its most common form as crack rocks, is to Terry as blood, human especially, is to sharks. They can smell their respective vices from miles away. Blood is one hell of a drug.

At this point in my life, I don’t think I have many vices.

For comedic effect, I will tell you a joke. I will use this joke as a jumping off point to my next subject.

There was a man, Edward we’ll call him. He was joined in holy matrimony to a woman. They had been married for many years. Ed’s wife, Melinda, believed greatly in greater things as most people logically do. One day they went for a walk through a state park. Melinda stopped many times along the trail. First, she stopped to look at a bee taking pollen from a flower. Melinda said, “Oh my! Look at this great work of God!” Then, she stopped to look at a magnificent waterfall. “Look at this magnificent waterfall!” She said, “God has created this wonderful waterfall!” Next, she stopped to look at a Momma bear and her cub. “This is such a great work of God! Look at the life cycle! It is so beautiful!” She exclaimed. They walked further down the path. When they got to a certain point, a tree fell. A beaver had chewed through the trunk to use for his dam home. It fell on Melinda, smashing her to the ground. She screeched at Ed, “Why are you not doing anything?! Why are you just standing there?! Edward!!!” Ed looked at the beaver to the tree and his smashed wife and responded, “Look at this great work of God!”

Old people are the best people. They are entitled to do whatever they want. On my drive this morning, I saw one walking across the street. I don’t see a problem with jay-walking; it’s effective. I should correct the sentence before last. The old man hobbled across the middle of Virginia St, relying heavily on his cane while traffic bore down on him. He didn’t give a crap if he held up traffic. That’s the life for me.

People from the age of 0-18 years also feel entitled. The awkward stage of life where humans don’t feel very entitled is called maturity.

I think it’s harder to act crazy than to act like the majority of society. Conformity is key. Today on my 6 minute walk between classes, I saw 42 people wearing Uggs. Uggs are uggly. But because they’re cool, 40 women and two men were wearing them. My shoes are just as simply made, but I don’t see anyone wearing like shoes. I’m not the captain of Rogue Squadron – I conform just like many – but I like to show my personality in being unique. Unique New York. New York’s unique. My friend Jeff makes his own shirts with funny phrases, such as, “It’s Business Time.” I admire him.

My aunt decided that my Grandad is too old for his own good. She bought him a cane. He uses it to pick up stuff. He needs a shoe: he uses his cane. He uses it so much for picking stuff up that the handle broke when my family was visiting. So Dustin glued it back together.

My aunt thought he was too old again and bought him a walker. It still has the tags on it and it sits in the corner of a room. He does what he wants.

Newborn babies do what they want. They sleep and poop and pee and cry and drink milk. I know someone who knows someone that had twins this morning. I’ve always been jealous of twins. They grow up together. They cruise the streets on dubs looking for biddies together. “Big Pimpin’, spending cheese. Big pimpin’ on B.L.A.P.s. We doing Big Pimpin’ up in NYC. It’s just that Jigga-man, Pimp-C and B.U.N.B. Check em out now.” – Jay - Z

I’m supposed to be writing an essay on the effects of soil pollution on a forest ecosystem through biomagnification. I am a horrible procrastinator. I want to do what I want. But alas, I guess I will conform for the time being. There are little battles every day. I feel some solace if I win a few of those a week.

A lot of my little battles lately have been with my personal demons. The background of my computer until just recently has been a picture of my favorite band, Brand New. It says, “FIGHTOFFYOURDEMONSFIGHTOFFYOURDEMONSFIGHTOFFYOURDEMONSSIGHTOFYOURDEMONS.” I found it inspirational. But now, I don’t as much. I think it’s a good thought though.

I changed my background to a picture of Orlando Perez, his daughter Valentina and I. That was a very happy day. I want to be that happy again. I thank all of my close friends for their patience with me.

“Because like dying young, idols got the best of me.
Well don't stop calling, you're the reason I love losing sleep.
And the building collapsed, so we'll shop one, we’ll shop one for something

I'll stick it at our skin, pierced for something.

Besides, don't release me until it's over.
And besides, you can't believe without bleeding.
And besides, you can't believe without bleeding.”

-Colly Strings- Manchester Orchestra

Sunday, October 23, 2011


I’m perplexed with the astounding moments I have while driving at night. I enjoy driving at night far more than during the day. If I have a long distance to travel, you better believe I do it at night. My emotions don’t lie to me at night. It’s as if I say to myself, “Ok self, be true to yourself… now.” I would count it as my mind unwinding with the events of every day, but when I lie down at night, I just toss and turn like the tumble mode on my dryer. The dryer I’m referring to is the one at the house my parents own, not the dryer at the apartment Jackson and I rent. It’s been a while, but if I remember right, it’s a GE and it shakes the whole house. It’s that powerful. If you ever need a good massage, go sit on the couch that wall that divides the two.

But on my drives at night, I don’t toss and turn. I’m relaxed. I figure out what’s important. I think things through. I realize realizations. These are the times I listen to music, yet I don’t really listen to it. Then these songs that I hear get tied to memories that aren’t connected. A certain song reminds me of a certain friend. I doubt I ever listened to this song with them. Every time I think of them because thoughts of them were berating my mind at the time. I was confused, and this song suddenly made sense, and then my situation suddenly made sense. For that tiny miniscule moment I saw the grand picture that God painted at the beginning of time. I floated along the path of code that dictates every occurrence. I’m not saying that it was a spiritual moment, it wasn’t. I wasn’t enlightened by that Spirit that is called Holy. My spirit coalesced with its surroundings.

I suppose it’s appropriate that the drives I remember from when I was younger are tied to a song that goes, “In and around the lake/ mountains come out of the sky and they stand there/ one mile over we’ll be there and we’ll see you/ ten true summers we’ll be there and laughing too/ twenty four before my love you’ll see/ I’ll be there with you.” – Yes – Roundabout.

I saw the most interesting thing on my drive home tonight. Along McCarran Boulevard, there are those reflecting posts that mark the boundary of different directions. I was on the left of these sticks, so I knew I was headed the correct way. I passed one other car in the 4.1 mile stretch that I drive along this roadway, I passed possibly twelve cars headed in the opposite direction. That’s an average of approximately three cars a mile, or at the 50 MPH that is the posted speed limit, about one car per minute traveled. Keep in mind, I’m just guesstimating here. As I drove through the dark, the reflector posts reflected the light of my headlights, as their name suggests. As I came up and around the bend, the posts lined up in my field of vision. They passed each other on the x-y-z plane in a rhythm tied to the song playing on my stereo. The little squares of yellow filed along as items along a conveyor belt. The moment in my mind was sublime.

Tonight I was agitated. This moment put into perspective just how simple it all can be. The “it” I refer to is the general happenings of everyday life. I guess if you had to put a name on it, I would call it the timeline. Irrational thoughts bothered me today. The order and designation of those posts spoke to me. They said, “Devon, you are irrational and easily perturbed. You think too much of moments that are insignificant. If you step back, take a deep breath and open your eyes for once, your mind will speak the truth.”

Truth to be told, I’m living the life of my dreams right now. I don’t think I’ll bother to ask for anything else, as I really don’t need any change to the current system I have in place. The rhythm of everyday life is like those posts. I just go and go and go up and around the bend.

Denver grew me. Orlando molded me. Reno has used me. The places I’ve been are where I’ve needed to be. I really have no idea how this story they call my life can end. I feel that I’ve reached the climax point. When I hit 64, I know my 22 year old self was stupid for thinking such things. But really, I am happy, and besides happiness, what is there to wish for?

I lose sight of that from time to time. I think fate wants me to drive at night. Hence, my innate ability to experience insomnia. So I just drive. I’ve driven a bit and I’ll drive a bit more.

“Cassadaga might just be a premonition of a place you’re going to visit.”

– Bright Eyes- Clauridents (Kill or Be Killed)

Monday, September 26, 2011

If I Had One Million of Your Dollars

I like money. I have fun with money. I spend money. I’m really bad at saving and investing money. Some people are good at that. They become millionaires and billionaires usually. Some of them become hundredaires because they only work at McDonald’s. I don’t like McDonald’s food. It tastes as cheap as it is. I like food that is cheap but tastes rich.

My dad has this problem that money “burns a hole in his pocket.” That’s a phrase that’s not literal, it’s figurative. It means that he likes to spend cash when he’s in the store on random, useless stuff. I think it is a genetic trait. I’m really good at spending money. Really, trust me.

There’s an effect I call “the Taco Bell effect.” Whenever I go to Taco Bell I think to myself, “Well I’d like a crunchwrap supreme, and a baja chicken chalupa, and you know what, I haven’t had a quesadilla in a while. Throw in a grilled stuffed burrito, of the steak kind, and some cinnamon twists. And I can’t forget that baja blast. Extra grande.” By the time I’ve done this, I end up with about twelve items and I have to pay 20 bucks. Then I don’t eat it all, but it’s all so appetizing. Good thing they came back with the chicken flatbread sandwiches for only a dolla. Holla.

The premise: you give me one million of your dollars to spend recklessly in 72 hours. If I don’t accomplish it, I owe you one million dollars.

There are two albums that I want on vinyl. The first being The Alchemy Index by Thrice. On eBay (an online auction website that people visit and get addicted to buying stuff and then get stuck with a ton of stuff and then decide they can try to sell the stuff to other people then can’t sell the stuff to other people so they’re double stuck with all that stuff) The Alchemy Index usually runs between $107.50 (US dollars, not Canadian) and $200. The other vinyl that I hopelessly look at every week is by Brand New and is titled Your Favorite Weapon. It runs between $150 and $300. I would get the nicest version I could. If I had one million of your dollars I would buy these albums.


I would like to say that I could pay for my college with this money, but I don’t have tuition due within the next 72 hours, so I would create a scholarship fund for me and put in $50,000 to pay for tuition and books until I graduate. See, you’re already making the future brighter.


H.G. Wells sucks gas like nobody’s business. Time for a new vehicle. I want a 2012 Nissan Altima 3.5 SR. I suppose insurance on that would be pretty expensive for a 23 year old. Thus, I’ll put in about 30 grand towards insurance for now.


Now comes the reckless part. And it’s going to be awesome. I’m gonna buy a house. You say, oh that’s a useful investment. Then I’m gonna line the walls with dynamite and load it all with fireworks. You say, oh that’s an awesome investment. I want to build ramps on both sides of the house. Oh, it has to be on some land to accomplish what I want to.


Then I want to hire 5 musical artists for the occasion. Lady Gaga, the Bieb, U2, Elton John, and Taylor Swift. I suppose I could wrangle them in for $50,000. Just for one gig. Hell, I’d take that deal.


Then I’ll buy a billboard in every major US city, I figure there’s about 50. I’ll make it in paint because I’m no good at graphic design in photoshop. It will look like this:


Then I need someone to cater the occasion. You know those flatbread sandwiches I was talking about earlier? I’m buying 100,000 of them. Why? Cause they’re so tasty.


Almost there. Next I’m hiring stunt men on stunt motorcycles that ride through fire. I figure they’d cost half the amount of the musicians.


Hold up, I need a Gatorade.


Ok back to business. Now I don’t want to pay for camera crews or anything like that. If they want to come, they better pony up and show up. But everyone who is anyone will be there. Why? Because I’ll pay them to be there. Here’s the list:

1. Lady Gaga

2. Oprah Winfrey

3. The Bieb

4. U2

5. Elton John

6. Tiger Woods

7. Taylor Swift

8. Bon Jovi

9. Simon Cowell

10. LeBron James

11. Angelina Jolie

12. Katy Perry

13. Johnny Depp

14. Kobe Bryant

15. Leonardo Dicaprio

16. Black Eyed Peas

17. Donald Trump

18. Dr. Phil

19. Tyler Perry

20. Paul McCartney

21. Jennifer Aniston

22. Steven Spielberg

23. Rush Limbaugh

24. Ryan Seacrest

25. Roger Federer

Thank you Forbes for your celebrity 100, I would be lost without you.

Wait a second, that list kind of sucks. Let’s get some low-life, real good partiers on there.

1. Lady Gaga Already performing

2. Oprah Winfrey Charlie Sheen

3. The Bieb Already performing

4. U2 Jay-Z

5. Elton John Beyonce Knowles

6. Tiger Woods

7. Taylor Swift Already performing

8. Bon Jovi Brad Pitt

9. Simon Cowell Sean Diddy Combs

10. LeBron James

11. Angelina Jolie

12. Katy Perry

13. Johnny Depp

14. Kobe Bryant

15. Leonardo Dicaprio

16. Black Eyed Peas

17. Donald Trump Lil’ Wayne

18. Dr. Phil Tim Allen (he did time for selling cocaine. No joke)

19. Tyler Perry

20. Paul McCartney Kanye West

21. Jennifer Aniston

22. Steven Spielberg

23. Rush Limbaugh Andy Samberg (and crew)

24. Ryan Seacrest Tina Fey

25. Roger Federer

I think that’s a good list and would just about exhaust my funds renting them for the night, putting them up in hotels, etc.


Now comes the fun part. Imagine this. We party like we could never stop. The music plays until the speakers blow. Then when the night seems just about dead, the house blows up with the dynamite and fireworks. The motorcyclists take off and jump through the explosions. Chaos. Life as Hollywood knows it is celebrated.

While everyone is at this party, I’ll drive to the coast with my favorite people. We’ll watch the sun set. And relax.


“I know you want to,

I know you want to,

I know you want to run away.”

-Untitled 09 (The Edge Takes Over For Vin) – Brand New

Thursday, September 1, 2011

October is the Month for Halloween

I knew technology was ready to take over when my phone alarm went off and it said, “Schmooze,” and “Dinner,” rather than “Snooze,” and “Dismiss.” It was crushing on me.

After my phone, I noticed the signs in my car. Its heart is in Colorado, and I tried to change that. It acted like a 5 year-old with broccoli. So I let it keep its phone number.

At first it was convenient to have a robot girlfriend. You could just turn her off when the yapping was getting too much. She’d cool off, and I’d be relieved.

Later, they figured out how to integrate the power switch into the command sequence. “Robot, power off.” Easy at first, I didn’t have to worry about getting slapped when I reached for the switch. But then some idiot somewhere started programming them like an idiot would program them. The robots got smart and they started disobeying that one order at first, then it turned into a whole ordeal of teenage rebellion in the robot industry. Teenagers are easy to control; there are few of them, and you just take away privileges and they listen. The teenage angst from robots came when there were way too many of them to handle, and they didn’t have many privileges to take away.

The future sucks.

Like the first African-American, women and dolphin U.S. Presidents, everyone was super excited when the first robot got elected president. Racer-x-39. His main selling point was that he was the future. He was pretty dang right. He found every loophole in the constitution like a robot would and turned our society into a Hoover-Ville type of society. I’m not saying just the lower class, but the lower, middle, upper, and the holy crap they have a ton of money classes.

The first initiative Racer-x-39 took in office was to give tax money to police departments that employed robots. He gave them a lot of Benjamin’s. So naturally, police departments rapidly turned into robot police departments. Phase 1 of complete takeover complete.

The second initiative Racer-x-39 took in office was passing a bill for research into better jet cars and high high high rise houses. Basically his dream was to create a Jetsonian type society. It was based on his crush on Rosie.

The third initiative Racer-x-39 took in office was to create The Constitution v.2.0. This was his most creative way at just absolutely abolishing the rights of humans.

Within twelve weeks most humans were being sold in slave markets, much like the 1800s. I went for the price of US $45,999.99. Even in the future, prices aren’t round numbers, even though pennies are overly obsolete. My brother went for a higher price. I still don’t know why. He’s pretty good at selling himself.

The resistance came shortly after. Old rusty chainsaws, axes and assorted forestry tools were found buried in the past by suspicious hermits and loggers, which most of the time are one and the same. They were smuggled under tables and hidden in floorboards, and special code phrases such as, “October is the month for Halloween,” were created. Robots couldn’t fully function if you cut off their legs. With exception of the lazor-eyed ones. They just started shooting lazors every which way. But it was easy to run from them, and let them rust and disintegrate. There were minimal, but necessary, human causalities. Their names are etched in the hearts of the revolutionists.

Suddenly, the presidency turned into a dictatorship. The realm of the United States started reaching further and further than it already did when robot dictators allied with robot dictators and others took some pretty good bribes. The robot dictator, El Señor Simpatico 3400, of Nicaragua (which by that time controlled 3/5 of what was once known as Central America) decided, due to his complex programming, that it was better to have a mansion in the clouds than to have to deal with threats of assassination and low approval ratings. By the year 2259, the world was on the brink of WWIX, with the world super powers being America and Tahiti.

The country of Tahiti covered all of Polynesia, south to Australia, and North throughout most of Asia. They didn’t bother conquering India, as there were far too many people to worry about. The pinnacle of their empire was the pinnacle of the world- Mount Everest. Robots had a weird obsession with heights. The further and further they were away from sea-level, they became happier and more functional. I researched why.

As with most things metal, robots hated the water. Have you ever spilled a drink on your keyboard? Water + Robot = rusty defunct robot. They enjoy dry climates, hence the reason for the capitol change from Washington D.C. to Albuquerque, New Mexico. The only thing robots did with water concerned funerals of old malfunctioning robots. They would dump them in the sea to never see them again. We bury people in the ground. Dead humans deteriorate and become fertilizer. The water corrodes the robots and they become salts in the ocean. That was the problem robots had with water.

The way we decided to revolt this time was by using water. The question was how to use water to destroy robots. They were pretty good at defending themselves from the rain and the rivers. They had developed umbrellas that popped out of their backs and shielded them whenever water droplets were sensed. When real storms came along, they collapsed into a bubble shield and stayed stationary until they were fine with just the umbrella. They looked like this:

There needed to be a great source of water that would let out water at a high rate and pressure. There wasn’t such a thing known to man at that time.

My master wanted to create his own mountain so his mansion would be that much higher than his neighbor’s. To do so we had to create a hole many miles wide to get as much dirt as we could. I was digging one day and I found a buried city. I thought there had been something at the location, but wasn’t sure. I found this city had an intricate water system with pumps for controlling fires near streets called “fire hydrants.” They were everywhere! Fires never got out of control in our society; this amazed me at how much flames ruled the underworld. So using handwritten notes and carrier pigeons, we as a group of revolutionists started searching for and unearthing these hydrants in hopes of using them against our masters.

After five years, we have enough hydrants to win the battle, I believe. So into the basement and under the boards I go. I don’t know what the future holds, but I suspect we’ll have to start from scratch. That will be fine. We will be free. I’ve sent this letter in a time machine back to 2011 in the hopes that someone will make the future known world-wide, and create a parallel universe where no human ever suffers the iron fist of the robots. Godspeed.

“I have a microchip implanted in my heart,
So if I try to escape, the robots will blow me apart,
And my limbs will go flying and land before the ones that I love,
Who would wail and would weep, but the robots would keep them at bay,
While I shut my eyes for the very last time.
Citizens of tomorrow be forewarned.”

- Tokyo Police Club – Citizens of Tomorrow

Thursday, July 28, 2011

My Thoughts As Of Late

Jonathon Vance is a guy I’ve worked with since I was 16. We work together as bussers at Red Robin. He got the nickname Vegas from our general manager Hal. No one knows why he chose Vegas, but since then, that’s all he goes by. I am convinced that he is a captain of a pirate ship. I even wrote several short stories about it for my friend that she’s kept in her notebook for years. His culture is the opposite of mine. He calls me weekly to cover a shift of his, because he has some business to take care of. It’s usually crap from his baby’s momma (who still wants to get with him, but he’s having none of it).

Last weekend was Captain Vegas’ 26th birthday. He showed up at the place of party already 21 hours drunk. I was impressed at first. The thing is, you can’t really control a ghetto drunk, and the Kansas City ghetto came out of him when he showed up. What was funny at first slightly turned disastrous. The whole point of the party was to go swimming at Nic and Alex’s place. I was ready to go. Somehow Vegas’ prison stint got brought up. The next hour Nic, Dylan and I slightly feared that Jon would get out of hand. He kept repeating his fight record in the clink. “9-2, 9-2, 9-2.” We tried every response from “That’s cool,” to “Good thing you’re out now,” to “Let’s go swimming,” to “There’s some nice weather today.” “9-2, 9-2, 9-2.” He even showed off his moves to Nic at one point. I was sure there would be a hit to the face. It was very close. Steven told me once that a drunken Vegas punch is the hardest punch he’s ever taken.

After a long time of coaxing, we finally got him out the door towards the pool, and everything was peachy. We only made it to the stairs before I thought he would kill again. Drunk Dylan was spitting some raps and said the “N-word.” The “N-word” is derogatory towards African-Americans.

Side note: I’ve never known fully what race the Vance family is, I believe he’s adopted, because his older brother looks Irish, and Vegas and his sister look African-American, but not. I’ve tried to develop the attitude that race doesn’t matter, so there’s no point in asking.

At first he tried to blame me for saying the offense. I immediately placed it all on Dylan. Dylan tried saying he said something else, and he started saying words that sound like the “N-word.” My favorite was “nigré,” said with a French accent. I don’t know how Vegas bought this. Probably because he was drunk. I’m glad that we didn’t find out about the knife he was carrying/he had forgotten about the knife he was carrying until several hours later when he had calmed down and was eating mac ‘n’ cheese.

I wear Macbeth shoes because every tool in America started wearing Vans and I felt it necessary to separate myself from the crowd. I think it’s absurd that older people, such as my dad, noticed the trend, and they started wearing knock off Vans. Cheaper versions of the style. My dad wears crocs’ versions of Vans for one; he is quite into that brand. I bring this up because I have an internal struggle. My brother works at Vans. He gives me 50% off of a shoe’s price. That, as they say, is a steal of a deal. Yet I don’t want my feet covering to resemble that of Chad Peterson. What a tool.

My favorite authors are Melville and Vonnegut. I know they don’t really fall into the same category. It’s like saying Barry Manilow and Insane Clown Posse are my favorite musical acts (they aren’t). My dad didn’t understand Moby-Dick when he tried to read it. I did somehow. I think that’s because I had to read it so fast for a class. I didn’t pay attention to the meaning of every word. I just saw the whole picture and I revel in the feeling I got at the end of the book of. The moral of the book I believe is, “such is life.” Yeah, it sucks completely that a whole ship and its crew was lost all because of the vengeance scheme of Captain Ahab. Such is life.

Vonnegut is very dry. He puts the facts out in front of the reader. I really liked Slaughterhouse Five. It has the thoughts of a “crazy” person and challenges whether or not he was actually crazy or just living in an alternate universe. I’ve wondered if I’m going to go senile later in life. It could happen.

The best movie I’ve seen this year was Hesher. Dustin, Jeanna and I saw it in the Mayan Theatre in Denver. This was my first experience at the Mayan. It instantly became my favorite theatre I’ve been to. They have these cool sculptures all over the place and really cool murals. The theme is Mayan culture, as per the name suggests. Hesher starred Joseph Gordon-Leavitt, Natalie Portman, Rainn Wilson, and a young boy named Devin. I remembered that because my name is Devon. Apparently he spells it wrong. I like the spelling of my name a lot more, and if people mess it up, my emotions fall between annoyed and perturbed.

I currently work for my dad as his assistant. Somebody asked me yesterday what that entails. I lied, saying I assist him in his Market Research Firm, helping him process data and develop surveys. I really don't know what I do, I just do what he says to do. A lot of the time, my interpretation of what he wants me to do, is not really what he wants me to do, and he gets angry. I can understand the frustration. I would be the same.

I have a relatively new obsession with vinyl records. I don’t see a point in owning an iPod. I think iPods are a sign of the coming zombie apocalypse, they numb the listener, but curiously enough I use iTunes. I am horribly obsessed with listening to music. My brother and I trade bands like 90s kids traded Pokémon cards (another trend I couldn’t bring myself to doing).

I’m thinking about unionizing. The only other employee is Taylor. I don’t think she’ll be game for it though. She likes my dad entirely much more than I do. She’s a really nice person. I don’t know what I would unionize for. I think it would be an interesting experience. The only downfall is that he might lock me out, and I wouldn’t be able to talk with the rest of my family, and I wouldn’t be able to use family facilities until we settle on a new C.B.A. He’d probably want to enforce a salary cap, and I’d be opposed. Ultimately, I’d realize that my offseason routine was shot because of the lock-out, and I’d have to settle. I’d like to imagine I’d get some benefits out of it, like lower rookie salaries and no two-a-days. Also, some shared media. Even though I already get Netflix and, I’d probably try to get NHL games paid for online. I think the hassle’s worth it.

I’ve grown my hair out since October because I was sick of having short hair like everyone else. I was entirely influenced by Jude Law in Cold Mountain. My thinking was, if I grow my hair out like him, I will be as good looking as he, and I will get women that look like Nicole Kidman pre-Botox to fall in love with me. So far it hasn’t really worked, but I enjoy feeling better than every guy with a faux hawk.

I speak fluent Spanish. Not the “Hola, como estas” type of Spanish that every “fluent” college student claims to know. It’s the, “Mira la puerta; que la rubia tiene piernas de oro,” type with the cooks I work with. I converse with any and all Latinos on life, death, literature and all the finer things in life. I learned around Puerto Ricans, so sometimes it gets real ugly, “Oye chico, vamo a coger la juajua, tenemo’ que ‘alir pa’ la playa. Tambien, quiero comer pollo, ‘tonces paremo’ en el KFC.” Because of that special gift to speak Boricua (it’s close enough to Dominican), I understood Manny when he was being Manny, and he was especially Manny in Spanish.

Tonight we are going to Casa Bonita. Not for the food. I haven’t been there since I was in the 3rd grade, so I vaguely remember it. But I do remember the sweet awesome cliff divers. And Black Bart’s cave. Basically, that’s the only reason we’re going tonight. I’ve heard the sopapillas are good. This place was featured on the cartoon South Park.

My brother wants me to get a tattoo. I most likely won't go through with it. I don't have the money to do it, and I don't really find it necessary. I’ve considered it. I know what I would get. It’s my version of the Colorado flag. Basically, the bottom blue stripe would be mountains, the red C would have sun rays coming off of it, as it is coming upward over the mountain. And the top blue stripe would be clouds. I have thought about adding little v’s in there to simulate birds flying. I also think I might add the saying by Bright Eyes, “I’m wide awake, it’s morning,” in cursive. Or from Iron and Wine, “So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten. Sons are like birds, flying always over the mountain.” That’s a homage to my dear mother, who I love a lot.

I’ve been reading my Book of Mormon more recently. I’m in the chapters of Alma that I like to call, “The War Years.” I think they’d make a really cool movie. Especially the scene were Teancum slays Amalickiah in his tent.

My parents are out of town. My mother pulled her back on Sunday. I was surprised she left. She could barely walk. It looked painful. My dad and I gave her a blessing of health on Sunday using the Melchezidek Priesthood. It worked.

“Mother remember the night that the dog had her pups in the pantry?
Blood on the floor, fleas on their paws,
And you cried 'til the morning.

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten.
Sons are like birds, flying always over the mountain.”

-Iron and Wine- Upward Over the Mountain