Dear Ellie...

Why don't you like Chipoodle? It's yummy, and they give you a lot of rice and beans and meat... and guacamole..... 'cept you have to pay extra for that.

Karen and I were talking; if you liked Chipotle, everything would be perfect! The planets would align!
There would be world peace!
No more starving children anywhere on the planet.
No more tears!

So you see, Ellie, what's at stake here. Like Chipotle. Now.

Te quiero, fea! xo





On another note; I've been off lately. I feel like I'm approaching a new place; opening a new door. I'm coming to the end of something, maybe. It's a strange feeling. Am I just tripping? Perhaps. Maybe it's just the end of August; the end of summer. I don't know. All I know is that I'm in a haze. I'm not myself, but.... I sort of am. I don't know how to explain it. I was never good with words. I feel it. That's all that matters. If I could paint, I could paint it. I would know what colors I would use to express these feelings. Feelings, oh feelings. What are you?



Matt: I'm high-maintenance. ;)

Growing Darkness Taking Dawn

So I'm not supposed to be online. I'm at work, and we're not hitting our targets as often as we should, so we might be monitored when we're online now... however, it's lunch time, and certain people are out of the office, so I'm taking the opportunity to blog.

Whoopee.

I had a dream last night that I will just blog here instead of my dream blog. I was trying to get to the 73rd floor of this hotel. I don't know why it was the 73rd floor. I accidentally hit the elevator button for the 64th floor... thinking that's the floor I wanted to be on. The elevator was... something else. I went from 1 to 64 in about 7 seconds. Suffice to say, it was quick! It pushed me down when it went up, and I had to hold on when I had to go back down to the 1st floor. I contemplated walking to the 73rd floor when I landed on 64, but decided it'd be quicker to get there if I took the elevator (the stairs looked endless). So, like I said, I went back down, and there were tons of people who were just as confused as I was, pressing buttons to different floors, and there I was, stretched and squashed. FINALLY, I made it to the hotel room and it was serene.

My bruises are finally healing. I went home and my brother asked me about them. My cousin asked me about them. My friend/co-worker asked me about them. It's very interesting to me to see other people react that way. I don't know. I'm fragile. ;)

Not much else to say. Life is good. Life is bad. Life is crazy. Life is sweet. Life is hot. Life is cold. Life is crazy. Life is cruel. Life is fair. Life is unfair. Life is crazy. Life is crazy. Life is crazy.


Or maybe it's just me.

Oops!



Ciao!
xoxoxo

So Two Dead Babies Walk Into A Bar...

*Matty-Matt-Matt*

I have "The Dresden Dolls Companion," which is a sheet music book as well as a small autobiography about Amanda Palmer and how she came to be the musician she is today. I've read it, and I thought I'd try to play the music, as well. I played piano (hardly) as a kid, and I've been wanting to take it up again.

I went to Ellie's house yesterday during lunch to play her piano. I quickly realized that I don't know how to read music! Ha! I was only able to read the notes (Every Good Boy Does Fine and FACE and all that jazz). The sharps and flats were a bit tricky, but after that, I'm completely lost. I first tried Half Jack, thinking it'd be fairly simple (the intro is pretty much two notes), but I got lost after a ways in. Then I tried Coin-Operated Boy, but that was tough, too. I didn't even try Girl Anachronism! But I managed to get the intro to Slide, which has to be the easiest song to play, and happens to be one of my favorites.

So now I'm going to try and make time for lessons. Is it a bit odd for a 23-year-old to start taking piano lessons? I feel that after the age of13, that boat has sailed. A co-worker told me that he knows of someone who teaches from his home, so I can give him a try. I want to be able to play; I envy those who have such a talent, where they can sit back and play an instrument, or paint a portrait, and it comes to them with ease. I want my thoughts to flow out of me from my fingertips and into the ivory keys, the strings, out into an echo that fills the room and my ears, and comes back into my body only to be released again, like an endless cycle.

I think I'm far away from that, though.

Damn you, time! You've won yet again.




I went out to a bar last week. I had a total blast. Rum and Coke is definitely my drink. We sat, we drank, we took pictures, we drank, we sat, we danced (well, he danced and I followed his lead), we kissed, we joked, we laughed. It was good times.



Time, you do tease me. I love you and hate you for it.





And one should always end with a joke:


A man walked into a bar..... ouch!



Hehehe. xoxo