Thirtyseven

So I woke up to the sound of a freight train rushing by our bedroom window, only there's no train tracks near here. I looked out or window and saw what looked like a an ocean wave going across it, we live in Kansas City, Missouri, no beaches here. I went out to the living room and saw the same wave, going across the window, in the opposite direction.

Tornado.

It lasted a few minutes, it's was pretty nerve racking. I had experienced them before, but this one was huge. The news the next day kept calling it a 'severe storm' and 'hurricane-like', and I knew they were wrong. In fact, more than a day later, they finally decided to call it tornado.

I took a few pictures and stuck them on my flickr page, have a look...

I don't live in the past. That is to say, I am not one of those people who hangs on to what I did "back in the day". My life doesn't revolve around the fact that 'I was one of the such-and-such kids, in high school' and shit like that. A lot of kids I grew up around sit around now, and do little more than drink, watch TV and talk about what they used to be. And they really don't do much more than that, it's kinda sick...

I live for what's happening now, I have always been like that. Where I am, at that moment, is always the coolest place in the world. And I enjoy that attitude, and it's how I'll always be, I am sure.

I think once you stop and start talking about yesterday, that's when things start to slow down for you, or even come to a screeching halt. And I believe that's why I dislike people who are like that, so much. They seem to not only hang on to those moments, but spend a lot of time trying to relive them or even get them back. Seems like a lot of wasted time, to me.

I'm not a very nostalgic person. I enjoy things like moves and music from the past, but I don't revel in a certain time period and think 'those were the days'. I prefer to think right now is.

I am not comfortable with the blog format, I never really have been. Here, we write about the moment and it becomes a memory. A lot of my heroes are diarist types (Jim Carrol, Henry Rollins come to mind), but I'm just not good at it. I enjoy a moment, but most of the time, I just forget to share it. I fail at keeping a record of something...

But I do have a few great stories, no wait, I have a whole bunch of really great stories! And I have been thinking about this for a while, and have decided I would like to put them down for others to enjoy. And as much as I dislike the idea of doing it, I am going to give it a try and record some of them here.

I would prefer to have a place where we take memories, write them down and they become the present. I know that makes no sense to some of you, but imagine a website where the more you add to the insides and the back pages, the more the front page starts to grow, kind of like a tag cloud, but on a larger scale.

Anyway, I am going to be posting a lot more stories from my past here. Some stuff I think everyone could have some fun with. It seems more fun for me to let you all get to know me not by just what happens in this moment, but learn about some of the things I had done, before I got here, to this place. So I hope you will enjoy them.

To see her, was to know. For anyone else, that was all I could tell you, back then. But for me somehow, it was also a wonder, why she would let a dirtbag like me walk her home every day. Yet there we were, making our way to her home, in spite of the fact that it would take me another hour getting back to my own place, where it was certain, I would get an earful for not coming right home from school.

Her name was Carolyn, the first girl I ever really had a crush on.

She was sweet, kind, ...a bit naive about the world, perhaps. Other kids at school made fun of her purity and innocence. Me? I was drowning in it, totally submerged in wonder, amazement and puppy love! And I couldn't get out, I had no intention to. I was a complete and total... failure.

There was no doubt that I was absolutely taken by her, and she knew it. The idea of us being together was just never going to happen, ever. But she was the one who allowed the pursuit to go on as long as it did. To me, that was the one thing about her that seemed completely evil, and I was taken into it, fully. This wicked temptress, disguised as true beauty, had captured me and refused to release me from her grasp.

It was funny how a punk kid, and what I could only now describe to you, as an angel, could find something to discuss as we made our way off the high school campus every day. To see us; me, in my desheveled sleaze and she, with her pristeen allure? Thinking about it now, we must have been quite an odd site to those unknowing passers by, as I accompanied her down Bonnie Cove to her destination.

She probably expected I would follow each day at 3, I always did. But she was always well on her way, before I came running along with a look on my face I can only describe as a puppy, patiently looking on as his dinner bowl is filled at a kitchen counter. I was stupid for her, even showing up on days I spent ditching school, drunk or high at a friends house our senior year.

And that was the thing, I had no control of my own will, I had to be there! There was definately something about her, something I needed to know, something I had to connect with. Being there was no a choice for me, this enchantress had me under a spell that I didn't even want to be released from. I even signed up for classes I had no business being in, just to be around her, and know she was alright.

Even though I was sure, she'd never be with a punk like me, it was all worth it. We were friends for a long time, and we liked each other very much. We had even discussed going out a few times. But it would never work, not really. There were too many other things involved, social things, family things, religious things. It was hopeless...

But it was worth it somehow, to just be what we were, even for just a short while. We always had something to discuss each day, and it went on like that for what seemed like forever to me then. When you're young, that kind of trip never seems to end. You always remember the first one, I know I will never forget...

Her name was Carolyn, the first girl I ever really had a crush on.

I took some pictures of myself this morning. I thought i would share them here, in case any of you have no idea what i look like! I plan on changing the hair sometime this week or next, so i wanted to get a couple of pics of it before it all disappears!

1st Touch Magazine posted a wonderful article featuring my good friend, Socorro Villa, it's written by Carmen Villadar. In it, Soco discusses turning her inspirations and ideas into art, then presenting those ideas to the public. Soco then takes us on a trip into her recent work on Gaea, an intmate community, based on a tiny island in Second Life.

The article allows a rare, personal visit into an artists' phillosophies and creative process, from idea to presentation. Take time to check out the article, and then click over to Soco's website.

Interested in renting a home in Second Life? You can visit Gaea at their new website, or use this handy link to portal there directly. Only works if you have the SL client installed.

Enjoy!

I'll go ahead and make this one a confession, of sorts. A lot of people know one side of this story about me, but not the truth. Well, that's probably also not true; they probably suspect that it's been a lie, all this time, but played along anyway...

Since I was a kid, I have maintained to my parents, siblings, and friends that tomatoes make me very very sick. I have told them that it must be the acidity in it or something that causes me to be violently ill. When asked about having red sauces, pizza, or salsa (all of which, I love!), my reply is the assumption that maybe whatever makes me ill has been cooked out of them.

I have even run to bathrooms, to fake illness, when I have had to eat them. All the times I have returned saying the tomatoes made me do it, has never ever happened, not once.

The truth is, I hate them! I can't stand the taste of tomatoes, and I don't even like to look at them. When I see someone cut them and all that nasty looking jelly in the middle with the seeds, it actually does make me want to puke. I have worked in restaurants for years, adding tomatoes to food, and it makes me sick knowing people like them so much!

Seriously, how can people eat this crap?

As I have gotten older, and like others, I know that a lot of my tastes have changed. I have made new favorites out of foods I didn't enjoy when I was younger. And my new diet (mostly fruits and veggies) has me eating a lot more of them! But I'll be damned if I have to eat a tomato! I am beyond being able to do it, truth or no truth.

At this point they really do make me sick, just by associating them with the lie and because I just hate looking at them so much!

Testing from my cellphone

So I had recieved a comment on my Vox post about Joi and Ryuichi a couple of days ago from MikeyPod, and thought, "okay, cool" (I didn't know who he was). But then I surfed over to joi's blog as normal, and noticed Joi had just done a podcast with MikeyPod. So i gave a listen and it was really great! And it was a bit of a turnaround for me this week. Everything I had been thinking and reflecting about my friend, the influence on my life, and oddly the music and my intrest in CC were discussed in the podcast. It was like i was right there with them, it was pretty cool.

It's funny how things can come back around to you, and you meet new people and get even more from it.

Thanks MikeyPod, I'll be listening a lot more, and check out your other stuff. everyone else here should check it out too.