Home in Buffalo for Thanksgiving… more soon. Until then, if you’re extremely bored, you can read about my Thanksgivings past: 2001; 2002. The best was probably 2000, wherein Amanda and I chased the Macy’s parade around New York so we could take a picture of the Bullwinkle balloon for Patrick. Anyhow, happy Thanksgiving. Think happy, thankful thoughts.

Is it just me, or is this a little weird?

Goonies Forever: “Urban exploration is a simple idea, much like exploring a rural area — woods, forest preserves, mountains — only in a city environment instead. And no, it’s not exploring your local behemoth of a mall. It means finding an abandoned, usually off-limits area and poking around, seeing what’s left, getting a feel for the history of the place. It allows you to see a world or experience something you may never have seen.” (on Gapers’ Block)

What the music industry can learn from a successful subway musician. Incidentally, the writer of this article says he makes more per hour playing in the NY subway than he does as a journalist. This frightens me. (In the Washington Monthly)

For 10 days, I tried Writing One (Usually Fictional) Thing Per Day. I made myself sit down at my computer and write something for ten straight minutes. This effort was in the same vein as the following efforts:

–Run Three Miles Per Day
–Bike to Work
–Practice Guitar
–Take Dance Class
–Read Proust

The above efforts have failed. The Write One (Usually Fictional) Thing Per Day effort has not necessarily failed… but… well…: Excerpts from a good effort gone bad.

Just found out that a girl I was friends with in modeling school (way-back-when, junior year of high school) is now in Iraq. I shall write her a letter.

I always thought my mom was crazy for crying when she read the newspaper… this made me cry today…. The Angel of Anacostia: “Time is flying by, the way it does when you’re a teenager and you don’t even notice its swift passing, the way it does when you’re the Anacostia Indians and you’re trailing late in the game yesterday, with a playoff berth and the memory of your slain teammate on the line. The clock is ticking away on your season. And then you see her. Oh, lord. Devin Fowlkes’s mom is on the sidelines now with her cowbell…. Marita Michael, Devin’s mom, stands alone near the end zone, waiting to hug the Indian who brings her a touchdown. But it never comes. Eastern High gets the playoff spot instead with an 18-2 victory.” (washingtonpost.com)

I have had this web page since 1997. My parents don’t know it exists. (As far as I’m aware.) But! If they ever do find it, Blogger has suggestions.

People sometimes use the expression “dancing around the issue” when they describe a conversation… can you use that same phrase in other ways? Can you dance around Trying to Do Something With Your Life?
I’m genuinely making serious efforts… unfortunately none of those efforts actually get at the heart of the matter. When I was very little I had a friend named Heather. She had a lazy eye. I always thought that if Heather could just try a little bit harder and focus she’d be just fine. Focus!! (I wonder if she ever got that fixed.)

The Adventures of Pete & Pete: Childhood, simultaneously distilled and surreal-ized.

Someone intrudes
thru every locked door
I have latched for a thought.
No mind of my own,
but a hall in a skull
where the audience harangues
from a thousand podiums.
— Jack Lindeman, “Trying for Solitude”

I feel like I short-changed a quote I posted recently: “My grandfather spent years trying to make a machine that would produce a little brass ship when you turned its crank. He never succeeded but his house was always full of partially formed little brass boats.” I looked at it again and tried to figure out what struck me about it. And then I realized: This is exactly how I feel at the moment about work.

On some kids’ t.v. show long, long ago (Reading Rainbow? 321 Contact?) I saw something about a child who started a community library in his basement. I thought that was the coolest thing ever. This project reminded me of that: The Distributed Library Project. I dunno if it works, but if it did, it would be cool. Like the dorm-wide video-borrowing system we had in college. Except much bigger.

I keep forgetting that I’m 23 now, and I can’t decide if that seems old or young.

After taking a weekend trip to Philly, I have gained:

-Books from a used bookstore on South Street…. including Pagan Kennedy’s book ‘Zine (I used the word “‘zine” today and Maria told me to never use it again.)
-A warm, happy glow from seeing a good concert in South Philly
-Appreciation for quiet train rides with someone who’s good to talk to (and dining cars… dining cars are good… probably even better if the old man selling you hot chocolate isn’t lecherous)