Reason 32 You Know Your Night Was Awesome:

Towards the end of the night you start solving mathematical logic problems.

Round and round and round and round and round we go

Strange groups huddle up in corners and hallways and the middle of the floor with a single girl as the nucleus of the amoeba. The only guys who have groups surrounding them are loners in awkward situations or those holding coke or aderall or xanax or uppers of any other variety. Some awkwardly dance and some awkwardly avoid doing so. The pretty girls stand around and soak in the attention while the shy guys sit around and ogle the pretty girls wishing with their whole hearts that the pretty girls would pay the slightest bit of attention to them. There is inevitable nakedness and inevitable drunkenness and inevitable delusions of grandeur about finding one's one true love or at least a love for the night. Hugs and handshakes and cheek kisses and pats on the back accompany the loneliness found in most everyone's eyes. Drinks are poured when no more drinks are needed. Pills are popped, bodies are stared down, hopes are raised, dreamed are dashed, and people are watched.

What would have happened if everyone had stayed at home? Nothing different.

Metaphysical Ramblings and Mindless Charades


I'm studying for my metaphysics final right now. Ok, not "right now" since I doubt I can multi-task well enough to write a web entry and study for metaphysics at the same time. My final is on personal identity, for the most part, and how absolutists take it versus empiricists. Interesting stuff if you are interested in worm theory, the self indexical "I", thought experiments about people named X and Y, cluster theory, and whether pain is purely physical or something much deeper.

Oh, I'm probably going to fail by the way. So if anyone has all these concepts down pretty well, you're more than welcome to take the final for me. I'm sure nobody would notice that it wasn't me. Anyone? Anyone? ::crickets chirp:: Fine.

In other news during this "study break" I shall put "Grant looks like" into google and pick out the best answers that possibly satisfy that query:

-Grant looks like a "Butch Lesbian"
I'm not sure why that's in quotes...but apparently I look like a girl who looks like a guy?

-Grant looks like a six month old in his latest picture.
Hey...come on, I know I look young, but seriously

-Grant looks like a monkey
Really?

-Grant looks like he's having a bit more fun now.
If this was said AFTER my finals...it might be true

-Grant looks like a dashing man of the world.
Why thank you...I think?

-Grant looks like a great opportunity.
I am!

-Grant looks like fun.
I am!

-Grant looks like a beastie boy.
I'm not even sure how to respond to this

-Grant looks like a manly man in that outfit.
So I DON'T look like a butch lesbian?

Alright, alright, back to studying.

DOWN WITH EMO HAIRCUTS!


My hair was getting WAY too crazy.



No...seriously.



So I contemplated a new style...



...and ended up with something nice and unoriginal.



Anyone need some extra hair?

love me

He sees her standing in the corner looking…bored
Her eyes drift, hips shift, hair flips…bored
He stares, boring holes into her head with his…eyes
He thinks look, look at me, but don’t see through my…lies

Drink in hand, walks right up to her, she ig…nores
Another drink, less inhibition, he im…plores
She looks, looks, sees herself reflecting in his…soul
Voices stripped, meaningless, desires meaning…ful



Words slip around his brain like wet feet on porcelain
Love drips from her lips but there’s no truth sinking in
Another girl another guy another night another lie
You…I’ll let you in



Minds hazy, speeding home, hands reaching, name’s un…known
He talks to fill the silence which has definitely…grown
She listens, doesn’t care, hopes they’ll soon be to his…home
Ignore conscience, embrace impulse, real love’s never really…known

He pours another drink, thinking it will help him…cope
She walks out of the bathroom, wafting scent is that of…soap
He starts to think this through but then he thinks he better…not
She never thought this through it’s just another coping…plot

The morning after, eyes closed, he winces from the…pain
He knows how much he lost last night, not sure of what he…gained
It’s all for fun it’s all for jest, at least that’s what he’s…told
He reaches over, empty bed, the pillow now is…cold


::
::



You can’t control your life or death
You can’t control your very breath
You can’t control how deep the depths
Of what you can’t control will go

You are the soul survivor now
You’ll make them pity you somehow
You’ll cry your tears furrow your brow
You’ll let your lack of control show

You cover up all your past pain
You fill your life with empty gain
Your exploits filling you with shame
You hate the light, go down below

You want so desperately to leave
You want them all to now believe
You are perfect, don’t need reprieve
Please tell yourself the truth you know

Wait...what's that? You want MORE? Fine...here you go: EVEN MORE PICTURES AND DESCRIPTIONS FROM RECENT EPIC EVENT!!!

Start from the beginning and read the descriptions if you want this in story form.


Oh...and if you didn't know...I totally remind you of that guy from Rent.

The Epic Extravaganza of Jordan, Kevin, and Grant

(This post must be read while singing "When You're the Best of Friends" from The Fox and the Hound in your head...here, I'll help you start off...)

When you're the best of friends
Sharing all that you discover
When that moment has past, will that friendship last?
Who can say? There's a way!
Oh I hope... I hope it never ends
'Cause you're the best of friends


This journey starts out on the road to San Jose. We drove Chad's 68' Bronco with no heat, no radio, stiff shocks, loud engine, squeaky everything and no back window through the desert at night. I ended up wearing 2 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, a sweatshirt, and a beanie. I was still freezing:



NOTE: Here's me at the start of the trip looking very suspicious. Chad looks like he's about to vomit. And the second picture is me at the end of the trip...9 1/2 hours later.


The next night I met up with Jordan, bought lottery tickets with her, and promptly lost:



NOTE: I'm not sure why I'm yelling in the first picture, I think Jordan is trying to lick the lotto tickets in the second, and note how sad we look in the third...so sad.


After, I proposed to one of Jordan’s friends over the phone through a picture message of me holding a yellow legal pad with “Will you marry me?” scrawled on it in sharpie. She totally turned me down.

We then spent like half an hour trying to have Jordan throw a Reese’s Pieces into my mouth while I supposedly would be taking a picture of said event:



NOTE: Note the extreme lack of candy flying through the air. I'm obviously bad at multi-tasking.


Jordan and I then spent the next 15 minutes taking pictures of the inside of our mouths:



NOTE: I have NO clue why this happened.


Then Jordan tried to lick my face...of course:



NOTE: I actually didn't even know she was doing this when I took the picture.


I then found a paddle in my kitchen and promptly put it to good use:



NOTE: This used to be for spankings when we Paige kids were bad.


We had to get McFlurries, but for some reason they don't serve Butterfinger any longer. I came up with the idea of getting just the yogurt and then making our own. So we overpaid for plain frozen yogurt, crushed some Butterfingers, and created masterpieces of delicious ice-cream-ness:



NOTE: It seriously looks like I'm throwing up into the cup. And Jordan's picture isn't that much prettier.


The next night we picked up Kevin in order to hit our old favorite, Comedy Sportz:



NOTE: Apparently we all just like yelling. Also note Jordan's hat on her, then me, and for the rest of the night...on Kevin. I look 5 in that hat.


We hit some dark hallways, some dark staircases, and then Jordan started doing stretches in downtown SJ. Or she was tying her shoe:



NOTE: We wound through like 50 yards of creepy dark hallways like that just to get out of the parking structure. Apparently downtown SJ wants to give all the kidnappers and killers plenty of places to hide.


We got to the building where CSz was supposed to be and had to brush up on our drug deal etiquette as we had to push buttons and talk to disembodied voices just to be told to come back later. So we hit Urban Outfitters:



NOTE: Jordan looks freaked out about pressing that button. We're doing our emo glamour shots in the second picture. And in the third? Don't ask.


So to pass the time after Urban we found a bar called the Blue Monkey, which we lovingly called The BM. We found a nice seat and got Jordan drunk on one shot:



NOTE: Such a lightweight.
NOTE 2: Ok ok, she was faking it.

After CSz, which was amazing, we decided to try and find a cool place to hang out. We got lost and called a friend or two to ask if they knew where we were:



NOTE: Kevin looks kinda like a heroin addict in that second picture.


After turning down 3 different places due to $15 cover charges, we went back to the trusted BM. We took some pictures, danced, and had a great time:



NOTE: In the third picture, if I remember correctly, I told Jordan, "OK, now do a sexy pose!" If that is my sexy look, I'm in serious trouble.


Apparently Jordan and Kevin conspired and got me a double shot of 151. If you don't know, that's around 75% alcohol:



NOTE: That third picture is literally 2 seconds after the second.


After some more dancing the lights came on and everyone scurried away like cockroaches in a lit room. We started the walk back but Kevin and I simply had to ride the boat. Later, I found a train that needed to be ridden as well:



NOTE: I seriously bruised myself climbing over the fence to get to that damned train.


Kevin then apparently gained an affinity for latching onto pole-like objects:



NOTE: This was right after we got lost again, and right before one of us urinated in public.


All in all, one of the most fun nights I have ever had. Seriously.



NOTE: I'll let this one speak for itself.


Are you still singing? You'd better be. If not I'm going to have to come over there and sing it for you while you re-read that whole overly-long thing...and you DON'T want that. I promise you.

Here's to many more good times with amazing friends.

This is going to sound stupid...

...maybe even over-indulgent, over-sympathetic, self-indulgent, and over-emotional, so don't read it if you don't like things that fit into any of those categories. Or if you don't like hyphenated words because apparently I'm on a roll.

I feel like I will never find the things I once thought I would find. Or, to be less vague, I feel like I will never find love like the love I once thought I would find. I have fallen into that rut of feeling pangs of pain at the sight of what is at least topically true love. So I sit here and wonder how low I will have to drop my standards or how low I will have to stoop or how much I will have to change my views of what love should be or how hard it would be to find someone who fits my current views.

All I want is all-consuming, life-changing, heart-pounding, intellectually stimulating, totally forgiving, unrelentless, never ending, soul sharing, blood-pumping, utterly intense, utterly passionate, utterly unmistakable, forever encouraging, Can't Possibly Live Without You, perpetually connected, Your Breath Is My Breath, never ever looking back, unconditional two-become-one kinda love.

I mean, come on, that's not too much to ask for, is it?

RIP

Rest in peace Toby.

You will be more missed than anyone could ever understand.

In 1492...

So…did anyone else here know that Columbus never thought the world was flat? Or that only the crazy fringe groups thought it was? Or that the whole argument was about the circumference of the world and that Columbus ended up being totally wrong despite his attempts to change the king and queen’s minds?

I’m so disenchanted with our educational system.

There Need to be More Hugs!

Next time I see you, screw the handshake, give me a hug.

Arachnophobia Anyone?

Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.
- HL Mencken

And now...a selection from Whitman:

Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself.
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am,
Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary,
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest,
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next,
Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it.
Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders,
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.


I, of course, don't mean this in a non-dualistic sense of the eternal divinity being within me. I'm conforming it to my current situations. So there.

my tears taste salty

At the Coach House
(or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Mistakes)

Date: October 30th, Devil's Night
Time: 6pm
Location: The Coach House

Ok ok...this is getting way too melodramatic...even for my taste. The other night Parachutes got a chance to play at The Coach House. We showed up, actually had people help us get our gear inside, actually had people respect us as a band about to perform at their venue, and actually got our own dressing room:



note: Asian decor, fake tree, and a sink the the corner...what more could we ask for?

Aro and Kyle were already there and helped us get all situated. Aaron even gave me a belated birthday present:



note: you can blame Aro for fueling my kleptomania...but seriously, awsome present

We grabbed a seat and watched Cameron Meshell, Mad Man Moon, The Red West, and The 88. I'm in love with The Red West by the way, so this was very cool for me...getting to play on the same stage as them. I even went over after and talked to them and sounded like a complete idiot. I thought that only happened on TV. I meant to say, "I first saw you guys open for Silverchair," but it came out as, "I first saw you guys open for...um....uh...." then panic filled my eyes until Kyle came through and said, "Silverchair." So sad.

We enjoyed the music, ate overpriced food, and Wendy and I glared at people:



note: Wendy pulls off the angry glare better than I do.

We finally got our turn on stage and had a very...er...interesting set. Despite the drum machine going off at an inopportune time, my strap falling off, and most of The 88's audience having already left, it was still fun:



note: I look like I'm trying to make the drum levitate.

And Apparently I started emitting rays of light at some point:



note: Rays of Light
note 2: I didn't mean to make a Madonna reference

And of course we have to thank our merch girls:



note: one's missing...we had a lady bug to go along with the lion tamer and the catholic schoolgirl. Apparently I don't have a picture of her...how sad.

We also have to thank everyone else who showed up to support us. This was a big show for us...getting to play with some amazing bands. It's great to have such a good group of friends:



note: if you are not in this photo (that Aro took by the way) it does not mean you are not a friend. It does mean you should have been at the show (or bold enough to step into the frenzy of us crazy people)

Later we ate In N' Out at 1am, me still wearing my tux jacket with tails. I have no pictures sadly. I was too focused on consuming a cheeseburger. We even made a new friend who accompanied us to said burger joint.

Overall an interesting learning experience and not a bad night. Not bad at all.

. up?





. or down?

A Word of Warning

Me and my handy-dandy new Canon SD400:





Oh...now you guys are in for it.

"The only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everybody else, and this is a feeling that I have always cultivated."

heh.

Oh yeah.

A Very Different Birthday

Every time I find myself in what I think is forever, I find out I couldn't be more wrong. Last year if you were to ask me what would be happening on my 23rd birthday I would have explained a vision so far from what happened a few days ago that it would be laughable.

Oddly enough, on my 21st birthday, the day of debauchery for most, I had half a Mike's Hard Lemonade and a glass of Port. Nobody bought me alcohol. Nobody bought me a drink. You get the idea. Oh this birthday, however, I was given a bottle of Bodegas Norton Malbec, a Jager set with a bottle and 2 shotglasses, and a bottle of Ultimat Vodka:



My family came to town to celebrate with my sister and I (her birthday is 4 days before mine). They met up with me at the Universal Citywalk where Parachutes were going to play a show at B.B.King's.

We set up and ran over a few songs:



Look how out of control my hair is! And I don't know where Laura is.

After a huge crowd assembled we played our hardest despite the normal difficulties of lazy sound engineers, monitors being too low, and bright lights in the eyes. Aron blew everyone away with his vocals, Laura blew everyone away who likes to think that girls can't drum, Megan blew everyone away by playing a viola in a rock band, and I played the usual trio of bass, drum, and Rhodes:



Wow...that came across very bad 80's music video montage-ish.

Afterwards I said goodbye to my family and then hung out with all my friends:



From left to right: Jennie looks very model-ish (in a good way), Jeffrey looks like he's being attacked by the flash, Wendy is making a 'G' with her hands (I think in honor of my birthday), I look simply psychotic...kinda "if you take the picture you'll be sorry", Aron is pulling off a starry-eyed dreamer kinda look, Megan looks quite ecstatic (and is her tongue more orange than usual?), and Laura looks like she has a secret.

The rest of the night was filled with bad food, heat lamps, illegal dancing, cold winter air, a sock store, and lots of laughter.

All in all, a wonderful birthday. Thank you to everyone who called, wrote, texted, or thought happy birthday wishes. You guys all rock.

::
::

And it all ends with certain memories.


i love you! i love you so much that when you're away, i feel like part of me is away. i love you so much that when i think about you, all i can think about is how i need you to be here with me and never leave again. i love you so much that i can't help but worry that even spending a lifetime with you will still not be enough.

For all those who keep saying, "Why philosophy?"

"You take on a project because of the feeling, perhaps inchoate, that it may in some way contribute to your deeper understanding of the larger-scale research program you have chosen as your life's work."

Scar tissue that I wish you saw

After Aaron did the digital equivalent of tagging my site, I thought I would help clarify the first point in my altered image: "Everyone...thinks I'm depressed." Well, you would be depressed too if you had to have your penis dilated today. Or, if you're a girl, if you HAD a penis and it was dilated today.

Yes yes...yet another dilation. No need for any explanations since I've told it all before. But THIS time I got some pictures! Sorry for the quality, I had to take a screenshot of a video image of a phone picture.

First picture: The Bed



Note the stirrups. This is where the torture takes place.


Second picture: The Tools



Note that large curved chunk of metal on the left. That's what they put inside of me.


Now pity me.

My Postsecret

I Think Hotmail Screwed Up Again

I was checking my e-mail and I glanced over at the daily news articles as I am apt to do and I saw this:





Wait...I'm not really sure how kissing ended up as one of the 10 most dangerous jobs. Heck, I wasn't even aware that it was a job at all! I'm going to have to look into this.

You Can't be Serious...Can You?

Yesterday I saw a bumper sticker that proclaimed this:

"The only way to get rid of temptation is to cave in to it."

Sigh...

Not only is this not witty or funny, it's just plain stupidity.

Oh well...whatever helps you sleep better at night.

Disenchanted Youth vs. Glorious Imagination: Round 1...FIGHT

I found this today:




I can't decide if this is incredibly endearing, or a mistake that will lead to future complications.

You decide.

"After living in the dark for so long a glimpse of light can make you giddy. Strange thoughts come into your head and you better think them. Has a special fate been calling you and you're not listening? Is there a secret message right in front of you and you're not reading it? Is this your last chance? Are you gonna take it? Or are you going to the grave with unlived lives in your veins?"

The Red Hat Ladies Strike Again

I can't be more specific than saying, "there's a whole lot of them."

They came like a torrent of purple pants, purple vests, purple blouses, purple purses, purple shoes, and purple jackets. Their colorful nametags an obvious sign of hours of work. Their faces wrinkled, varicose veins everywhere, walkers crowding the walkway, and constant complaints about how cold it was despite the quite average temperature. Plus the hats.

Oh, we can't forget the hats.

Each lady sported her own style through a red hat. Some with berets, some with bowlers, and some with flamboyant ribbons and feathers. Comments floated around like, "Oh! You added a feather to your hat!"

There were 18 of them today, but the number fluctuates wildly.

If you ever see them...be nice. They each have a household of trained killer cats.

Hmm...Parachutes?

The Word of the Day is: Catharsis

Yesterday, around lunch time, I was hungry. Chad was at a class reunion in San Jose, so he wasn't around to make really good food that I could steal some of like usual. This left me to fend for myself in the big world of...food. Big world of food? I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.

The point is that I somehow ended up at a Weinerschnitzel drive-through. No, wait...don't ask me how it happened. I honestly don't remember making the decision. I was just suddenly there and would have felt bad to just drive through and not order.

So I ate a chili cheese burger, a chili cheese hotdog, and french fries. No, there was no chili or cheese on the fries...though that might have been good. I mean, why stop at the burger and hotdog?

Later I remembered why my natural tendency is to stay away from that place. My stomach was thoroughly confused by the horrible horrible (though very tasty) food that I had consumed. Needless to say, I felt a little sick.

And I just made the realization that I don't really know why I'm telling this story. I think Aro is rubbing off on me.

I don't know how to end this now...maybe with a moral or lesson.

And the moral of the story is...THIS is really disturbing

EDIT: I just realized that if you check that site out, all of the large sized boxers are sold out. Only medium are left. What does that tell you about people who eat there?

xoxo, Grant


p.s. I'm feeling a little queasy tonight as well...though not due to Weinerschnitzel

I PASSED COLLEGE!




That's right. After being the only grad student ever to be three weeks into the program despite not having technically graduated (stupid Chapman), I have finally been introduced into the world of those bestown with a BFA.

Hmm...I feel much less special than I expected.

Oh well...drinks on me!

Now I know how it feels...

Brea is having it's annual jazz festival. That means that our restaurant is amazingly busy compared to the usual flow of pedestrian traffic. So we add 8 tables. All 8 tables can be split into 2 tables. This means the outside area is up to 16 tables large.

And I had that whole section.

I'm sorry, but 16 four-tops or 8 eight-tops is simply not feasible.

Five and a half hours later I was finally finished. Exhausted and sweaty and feeling half dead I left the restaurant and headed towards my truck. I park behind a Vons. A walked in front of a massive white truck on massive black wheels with a massive black grill and thought to myself..."oh, some punk guy in his huge white truck trying to compensate for...well, you know."

Then a girl leaned out the window and screamed something to the extent of, "Ooooooh, hotty body!"

I ignored the remark seeing as how it was probably aimed at somebody else.

The girl (girls actually) then yelled out, "Nice hair hotty body!" So I assumed that it was possibly aimed at me since I do have the slight faux-hawk thing going on and I was the only one around. I walked to my car and the massive white truck with the amazingly drunk girls pulled around and stopped in front of my truck and two girls leaned out the window and started yelling again. Something like, "Hotty body! Wooooo!" And then something inappropriate enough that I won't put it on my site.

I raised my hand in a waving gesture and said, "Hi there."

I didn't know what else to say.

They drove off and without knowing gave me my very first drive-by catcall experience. I've met so many girls who say they hate it and that it's degrading and all that jazz (no pun intended), but truthfully, I found it more flattering than anything. Ok ok, so they were drunk girls in a massive truck, but still...I'll take my flattery where I can get it.

I was just sitting here...

...eating my skirt steak out of a styrofoam container...cutting it with a boot knife...when I realized something. This site is now 4 years old. So for 4 years I have been romping around on the internet letting everyone know too much about myself. So in honor of my site's birthday, I thought I'd recap what happened on or around this day for the past 4 years. Kinda like those episodes of Boy Meets World where they couldn't come up with a good script so they just had 3 characters sit in a room and reminisce over Corry and Topenga's torrid relationship while constantly cutting to really long flashbacks in order to fill up the half hour.

Grant's Boy-Meets-World-Style Flashback Post!


September 8th 2001

"Hi. I'm Grant. I now have a website. Why? I don't really know. But I have one."

And since then...I have faithfully held true to that fact. I don't know why I have a website...but I have one. The best part is, 13 days later I gave up and wrote a "final post" about not knowing what I was doing and so I was going to live vicariously through Ed and Aro's sites. I guess I'm not too big on sticking to my word.



September 8th 2002

"Utter chaos is reigning supreme here at Chapman"

At this time, Aro was (like this was unusual) playing with his food and spilling large amounts of chocolate colored drink on himself, our room was full of so much band equipment that we had to hurdle it just to get to our beds, I was getting put in the trunk of cars when there wasn't enough room to fit everyone (Thanks Megan), and our makeshift shelf housing silverware and videogame systems exploded in the middle of the night. Just a normal day in the Gamma Alpha Epsilon house.



September 3rd 2003

"Shaving 101 for the Depressed"

I guess I didn't write on the 8th. And oooh...I started doing titles! This was a long rant about people who cut themselves and put pictures of it online and show off their supposed pain and give tips on how to better cut yourself. I was pissed off.

"In other news....I spent the night eating éclairs and playing Track and Field for Nintendo. Oh man...too much fun."



September 8th 2004

"Seriously...does this kind of thing happen to everyone or is there some practical joke group out there specifically assembled to put me in unbelievable situations?"

This was a story about how I got hit by a car while riding my skateboard on my way to my first day of class.



September 8th 2005

Well, this is happening right now, so I'm not sure why I put a title there. And I'm amazed no penis surgery stories happened on those dates. I think that topic has been discussed more than anything else on here.

I want to make a huge list of all the great and not so great things that have happened over the last 4 years. If you have a good memory, or story, or anything at all, PLEASE comment it! I want to remember all these things.

Here's to 4 years.

It was 11:11 but I simply stared at the numbers till 11:12.

I had no wishes.

Oh Grow Up....No Wait...Don't

I go into work through a back door that's located in a alley. It's a dirty alley. Not the kind of place you'd really want to hang out.

Tonight I walked out the back door into the yellow glow of the overhead lights and there, in the corner, directly in front of me as I opened the door, were three people. A guy and two girls.

They were having sex.

Well, at least two of them were.

I opened the door to the guy yelling out, "Oh sh*t!" and trying to pull up his pants. One of the girls immediately turned red. I simply kept walking without giving them a second glance.

They had lookouts down the alley where I head to get to my car. Three guys with skateboards. They started laughing. I passed by and one of them said, "You totally saw that didn't you?" I simply nodded and kept walking. As I passed them, one of the guys yelled, "They were fu*king back there!" I responded with, "No worries" and kept walking.

Now...what other people do is of no concern to me. Except that they were all around 14 years old. At the oldest. One of them might have been 15. No joke.

When I was 15, I was wearing sweater-vests and had just gotten rid of my comb-over, braces, and glasses. I was going to school. I was going to friend's houses and watching movies and maybe going out to eat with my family. I wasn't having sex in back alleys.

I am deeply saddened over the complete loss of what it means to be a kid.

Take it from a Hypocrite, You don't want to do That

Thanks to Aro Aro and his dream about marriage, I've had one of my own. Though mine seems much more bizarre, at least to me.

Fade To Dream Sequence:

Everything is dark and blue and black and shadowed. S and T are standing in a room with K and myself. S has just proposed to T, though I somehow missed the proposal. Then he breaks out into a poem about her and marrying her. I only remember the basic concept of one part of the poem:

My fish heads are fresh and sealed
Yours have been tasted and I'm sure were delicious

I was standing in front of K, who was sitting in a stone throne of sorts. She jokingly said, "I guess this is where you would propose to me..." and I dropped to one knee. She seemed amazingly surprised.

I was looking up at her, but she wasn't just a little bit above me, it was as if I was looking up a mile just to see her face.

I said something along the lines of, "Sorry I'm going to get really sappy here..." and expressed my eternal, undying love and how she was everything I had ever wanted forever and ever. She seemed so happy.

As we started walking away, K turned into C. This didn't strike me as odd at the time. But suddenly I knew I had made a mistake in proposing. It would never work. What was I thinking? I had been hasty and had disregarded the things I knew would get in the way. C asked me why it wouldn't work and I didn't even say anything, I simply pointed over my shoulder at the monstrous, looming entity behind me. She understood.

The next morning she woke me up. It was still dark and blue and I couldn't really see her face. I avoided her for a few days simply because I didn't want to tell her I had made a mistake in proposing. Who does that? Taking a proposal back. You can't do that.


Fade Out Of Dream Sequence


This all makes sense to me. That was probably uninteresting enough, so I won't go into self-psychoanalyzing at this point in time.

I will simply wish you dreams of beautiful meaning

since wishing you beautiful dreams does not always work

anti-creativity

SIGH INTO ME IF THE ONLY TRUTH LEFT
IS A YEARNING DESIRE TO LEAVE IT BEHIND
OR IF PRISITINE COLLECTIONS OF SHINY NEW LIES
ARE UNFOLDING UNSTOPPABLE INTO ME SIGH

HOLD ONTO ME IF THE ONLY LIGHT LEFT
IS A FLICKERING REMNANT OF WHAT WAS ONCE BRIGHT
OR IF CLOSURE OF MOONLIGHT YOU CANNOT FIND
IN A WORLD OF DECEPTION HOLD ON TO ME TIGHT

BELIEVE IN ME IF THE ONLY LOVE LEFT
IS A SETTLING FOR SECOND WHICH AWAY COULD FLY
OR IF UNSTEADY LUST IS NOT WHAT MAKES YOU CRY
FORGET ALL PAST PAIN AND BELIEVE I AM RIGHT



::



i know the truth when i see you
i see what you don't want me to
feigned innocence is lost on me
you are the one that i persued
you left so quick in solitude
unknowingly you set me free

Logic Will Break Your Heart

I have successfully "completed" my first day of what is sure to be a rigorous test of my wits. And I'm off to a strange start. I hate being late, yet I was almost late to both of my classes. Once due to a trainee at the campus coffee shop, and once due to lack of parking.

8:30am is metaphysics with a mental giant of the philosophy world and an utter genius who expects anyone and everyone to be able to understand the simpler side of an unsimple subject though none of us do.

And each time I come home I walk into my new room and half forget that I have yet to unpack half of my things due to constant distraction from old pictures and poems, new art projects, attempts at decorating, and tripping over boxes and smacking my shins into hard objects.

Somehow I feel at home in the messiness.

So I sit here with a mudslide from a plastic jug entitled Friday's Mudslide and I already make plans for crazy adventures to Vegas and Arizona and ignore the unpacked boxes and really ignore certain memories which are brought boldly into the present due to artifacts of an older life.

Life is truly unpredictable, interesting, and above all...good.

I'm so alone tonight, my bed feels larger than when I was small.

Penguins and Panthers and Shamrocks Oh My!

Deja vu. I was just here. Here being sitting on the floor of a mostly empty room with a few taped up boxes replacing the furniture, a laptop replacing the G5, and a few feelings replacing others.

And I'll be doing this again within the next 4 years.

This summer has been the most change I have ever been through in my entire life. I'm talking change that beats out puberty, realizing girls don't have cooties, and moving away to college all rolled into one.

Somewhere between staying up all night countless times, eating more del taco than I ever thought possible, bowling tournaments, new jobs, broken hearts, new homes, introduction into a shady underworld, getting into trouble with the Tamarack Girls, fauxhawks, major record lables, new friends, old friends, new friends who feel like old friends, and playing spin the knife in the middle of a crowded Fridays, I realized that my life is so completely different than I ever imagined it that it kind of freaked me out.

Then I realized that the only thing worse than finding yourself somewhere new and crazy and different than you ever expected, is finding yourself exactly where you saw yourself 10 years go.

So here's to the unknown, the surprises, the unexpected, and the slow unveiling of where life will lead.



p.s. That was horribly sappy and overemotional. Sorry. I'll get back to being caustic and unrelenting sooner or later.

Not Goodbye...Till Next Time

Green bottles of not quite frozen liquid crystal glasses from which are poured liquid fortune or liquid misfortune either way are encouraged and partaken.

Hour hand slipping and sliding with seconds as fast as the time when I couldn't stand time's passing. Black skys go grey till pink ferments upon purples and blues and whites finally greys. Covers hide truths from inquiring eyes and our minds are confused since this is not the usual.

Water hides what cannot quite be hidden due to self inflicted death of innocence and purity. Hands which once covered eyes from such deftly impulses now reach for and yearn for what was once thought impulsive.

Knives spinning round and round round till a stopped blade will require public indifference and secret desire. Shadows and reflection bounce off and reveal the truth of circumstances rather than our veiled visions.

Borrowed light borrowed glass borrowed rooms borrowed else fulfills previous envisioned acts of previous unreality. A breath and a look and a touch and a glance and a thought and a smirk which could mean anything. A stumble. Few words despite lack of any words being necessary. Few things despite many things being important.

Rising needle falling limits watchful eyes blinking eyes. Sitting hopeful yet all knowing of what minutes later will bring. Quick thinking thought to be witty or maybe hopeful falls short of what hopefully in previous moments was going to be miraculous. No words or any actions plus no time or any chances could cause embracing of said circumstances or full enjoyment of said times.

Hazy mind fully clear now with decisive impertinence unsure of so many things once thought to be clear. Little more than closed eyes heavy breathing slower beating colder skin fluttering lids twitching hands can bring assurance. Oddly enough that assurance will be brought upon with unsurity and the only hope of freedom will come with shackled thoughts.

"Are you still alive?"

I finally have internet access on my own computer! I've been living in Chad's living room for a couple months now...sleeping on his floor...using his bathroom...eating his food that I partially paid for...and using his laptop for my internet fix. But the time has come my brothers to free myself from the bondage that is not having anything of my own. For on the 21st of August 2005 ano domini the year of our lord Chad and I will be moving into a new condo. With 2 bedrooms. No longer will I lay on the hard ground and yearn for a bed. No longer will I have to change standing in the middle of Chad's living room hoping that random people don't look through the window to see me after a shower. No longer will I endlessly bug Chad by taking up all his space. Oh, and you're all welcome to come visit once we're all set up. I'd say housewarming party, but school starts 2 days after we move in...so maybe I'll have an uber-belated housewarming party. And I expect gifts.

In other news Parachutes played at the House of Blues again last night. And a big shout out to Drunk Kid who kept telling everyone I was a rock star and screaming "F*CK YEAH!" every 15 seconds or so.

Summer is over my friends. Time for a few more shenanigans and then I'll become the philosopher recluse that you all know and (pretend to) love.

4:30am

Sorry, I can't think of anything faux-witty for a title at this hour. Parachutes played at Hard Rock Cafe in Beverly Hills tonight. Well, I guess this morning. It was a very interesting experience filled with run red lights, kung fu vampires, bloody noses, appetizer samplers, missing cymbal stands, a mysterious black thong, and a tiny little dolly.

Oh, and I think it was decided that I was going to wear a corset to the next show.

Dear diary...

Today I:

-ate a 7-11 hotdog at 3:00am
-went to bed at 5:45am
-woke up at 11:00am
-ate something I didn't recognize
-was accused of having sex with various co-workers
-was offered a line of cocaine
-made 18 dollars an hour
-not for all 24 hours
-spoke Spanish
-misunderstood Spanish spoken to me
-saw someone naked
-was too tired to do anything else

Hope tomorrow is just as good.

xoxo, Grant

And did you know desire's a terrible thing, the worst that I could find?
And did you know desire's a terrible thing? But I rely on mine.

Confusing Retribution

Some of you might remember the Driveby Goldfishing that took place a while ago. It was an unfortunate event, but the goldfish are still alive today (well, most of them). I have another tale of woe which involves another variation on a classic action. You'll just have to read to see.

Before I went to Tennessee (oh, did I not tell you? I went to Tennessee. There, now I told you) I parked my truck in the visitor parking lot at my brother's apartment complex. I had a parking permit and all was legal.

I came back and as I passed my truck, I saw something on the window...looked kinda white. I thought my car had been egged. The only explanation was that someone was angry that I was partaking in the parking spot for over a week and they thought that was unfair so they egged my car.

Then I took a closer look.

It wasn't egg on my windows. And whatever it was, was on both windows, the windshield, and the doors. Then I found something in the bed...an empty can of Campbell’s Soup. I held it up...made the weird connection in my mind...and became even more confused.

Let me get this straight...somebody became irate that there was nowhere to park, they randomly chose my truck (possibly because it had a nice shady spot), went inside their house, got a can of Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup, opened it up, went back outside, and proceeded to fling said soup all over said truck.

Who does that!?! Who throws soup on a car when they're mad? Then again, one time, I honey and coffee grinded someone's car. But that was because I was trying to impress a pretty girl. Maybe this is karmic realignment. You know. If I believed in Karma.

::
::

On a wholly different note I just watched Amelie for probably the 15th time. But I came the closest to crying, out of any time I've seen any movie, this time. (I'm still waiting for the movie which will make a tear escape the clutches of my eyes) The kissing scene at the end kills me. I don't think I'll be watching it again for a long time.

Unless the water stops lapping at the blackened shore, my trust will dip and wane and dance to the rhythm of the sub-decibel pulsing ever present in my ears. Unless the water stops rolling and crashing and soaking my tears can't be heard by those needing to hear. The now deafened ears are transfixed on a sound that doesn't even exist outside of the mind. Like a ghost to aural senses some papers are moved, a light flickers with power and, ultimately, leaves darkness for all. The gift of sight ends up being a curse strapped to dragging feet stuck to lethargic legs swinging from a dead weight pelvis toting a sluggish torso lugging unmoving arms and a neck but no head. The heart, oh the heart, don't get me started. Don't make me laugh. Let me zip up the black plastic and let's just leave it be. Opened mouths mispronounce upscale words filled with vowels while hands clench, knuckles white, who needs blood to show anger? The simplest of all words and all thoughts, of emotions, is tricky and quite deadly...or deceitful one might say. With a wave of the wand what one once thought was one thing will wonder away, washing clean of existence. The signature in red sits on black dotted lines sits on pure white papyrus sits in gas lit alight. So sing another song filled with too many feelings and dig at the meanings you can't live without. What makes you so whatever it is that you are is a mystery to me wrapped in leather bound enigma. My advice then is eat sleep drink kill love rest will go die burn lift go feel sigh drink touch lust glow build break lie cheat yell run fall thrash melt stray go jump fight think bleed cut show meet hide look don't go live ride smile play clench write push fall dream say go strip scratch tie cut scream go please don't go

Some Eggywegs for My Droogies

Thursday Night
He told me the Xanax would take care of the pain as I hit him harder this time. He wanted me to punch him in the collar bone, but I had this idea that I would break his collar bone and I don't think I could handle the sound that would make. Maybe it was the Jager.

Friday Night
I actually uttered the words, "Can I buy you a drink?" That was the first time I've ever said that in all seriousness. So I bought her a Ten and tonic and we took a polaroid picture...though it's only the back of her head looking away from me and my face looking either confused, sad, or drunk...or all of the above. I told her I would visit her in New York as I gave her a hug. I felt sadness. Then I looked at everyone else who was there to say goodbye to her and buy her drinks and realized I barely knew any of them.

Saturday Night
I just went to the store for the sole purpose of buying toilet paper. This might not sound odd, but I've never done it before. I suddenly had the odd image of myself standing in line with toilet paper...and that's it. You know, like when you see a couple in a store and all they are buying is condoms. Usually they'll pick up some extra items like a toothbrush and toothpaste and some mouthwash...like they're going to trick people into thinking that they came to the store because they had the undeniable urge to have a very clean mouth.

Walking back to my brother's house I passed a blue thong laying on the walkway. It wasn't there when I left 20 minutes earlier. Something very strange must have happened in my absence.

All Are One....heh

I'm still confused by the fact that I can now tell people, "I've played at the House of Blues." Sure I'll leave out the part where we didn't play on the main stage, but we played the HOB nonetheless.

We showed up a couple hours early and were stressed over getting in one band member (who was only playing the shaker) and one band member's brother (who was turning 19 that day) into a strictly 21 and up VIP room. Turns out all we had to do was cross our fingers and have them stick their wrists out and say, "We're in the band." In the end we had 6 people with artist wristbands on, though we only had 4 people in the band.

They led us to a posh lounge that was only for the musicians where we had free food and drinks. Mark Broussard (I'm not taking the time to look up how to really spell his name) was in the room next to us having a much fancier dinner with much fancier drinks.

We set up, played our hardest, and packed up. We had a really good number of people show up despite a huge amount of people being turned away due to the age restriction. I guess, as Aron put it, bellydancers + alcohol = shenanigans. I guess the under 21 crowd is not allowed to be exposed to the drunken cavorting that took place by the end of the night.

Everyone keeps asking me, "Wait...your fourth show ever with the band was at the House of Blues, and your next three shows are at the Hard Rock Cafe in Beverly Hills and on the Universal Citywalk? HOW?" All I can do is shrug my shoulders and say, "I don't know, but I'm not questioning it."

Melt

He stood there and watched her sleep as a tear or two silently rolled down his cheek. A trembling lip, a clenched fist, a sleepless night...maybe a dream.

She laid there with her back to him. She slept soundly.

He sat on the bed, almost touched her leg, thought otherwise. This was the last place he wanted to be, though he wanted to be there forever.

He knew, in his heart of hearts, that love like this would never come again.

It's Hard To Type Like This

I'm sitting on the floor of my room. Most everything I own is now in a 5'x10'x9' box protected by a cardboard door and an expensive lock I was tricked into buying.

"Don't worry," they told me..."we only had 2 break-ins in the last week."

I realized I collect allot of stuff. Junk. But all of which is kept in the name of memory/remembrance/sentimentality. I threw allot out.

Sure I'm physically moving, but this will be much more than simply a physical move for me.

I have, however, discovered why we type at chest level, and not sitting cross-legged on the floor typing with the keyboard on the ground. My wrists already hurt.

Too much is changing too fast....but my now white walls remind me how easy it is to start new like nothing has happened. Except for the nail holes, thumb tack holes, rubber cement residue, and general smudges that have shown up over these last couple years.

If you need me I won't be around for a while.

You can consult my doppelganger in the meantime.

But be careful...he bites.

15 Surefire Ways To Get Over A Breakup





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Confusion Amongst Perfection

I had 10 minutes before I had to head over to Chapman to get in order to graduate. I checked the mail and had one letter addressed to me. From Talbot. It was a small letter, not the big ones you get from universities when you are accepted. I opened it and due to the three way fold could simply see "Dear Grant,". I paused, caught my breath, and then flipped the page over and saw, "We are pleased to announce."

That was all I needed to see.

I sat in an air conditioned room in seat N1 for over an hour before sitting in 90 degree sun for 3 hours. I smiled some fake smiles, joked about people's unfortunate last names (Chism...I'm sorry), received a Padfolio, and got a piece of paper that means nothing because I guess I have to prove that I passed my classes before I get anything real.

I met with the rest of the Parachutes and received a bus stop sign from Sherbert. We discussed our gig at the House of Blues on Sunset Strip next month and attempted to give Max Weinberg a demo CD.

I had dinner with Naomi's family, had four glasses of wine, felt nothing, missed a graduation party that ended at 10.

I'm now attempting to go to an all night bowling place to finish off the day.

So now I know my next step even if I really don't and I know where I'm headed even though I don't and I have a plan even though I don't. I shake hands, give hugs, smile too much, pose for pictures, and explain my future plans even though I have none.

Looks like life's not that simple.

I've Been Looking So Long At These Pictures Of You...

That I almost believed they were real.

::

Tonight I christened my new Fender Jaguar by sitting on the floor playing Cure songs and feeling just a little bit sad.