The Gates

I have three papers due tomorrow afternoon and two of them are almost done. I just drank a red bull and I just want to go to bed. Or there's something brewing inside of me that I told myself wouldn't happen. Isn't that the road I thought I was walking down in the first place, when I kept making those calls and responding to those messages and having her to Denver and moving back to Chicago when I told myself it was for every reason but her.
So it happened. It happened when I was walking home from Starbucks-- I had been there studying with Erika and I felt the pangs then, thinking they were jealousy, so I turned the page in my brain and kept trying to write about the various brutal dictatorships the United States has sponsored in the name of anti-communism. And outside when I kissed her I wanted so much more-- but the mutual taste of cigarettes in our mouths probably put her off. We went back inside, but when we packed up and stood outside I got a little more of what I was looking for. And walking away, the feel on my fingertips as our hug was pulling apart, and then walking home and listening to that potential rock star I met the other day, singing so I'm walking up to your gate today to throw my lonely soul away, 'cause I don't need it you can take it back in my headphones. Yeah, that's when I was sure. See, on the train today I knew it as I was recapping the previous week or two and how I wanted to tell her but didn't want to jump too soon. Like how I didn't ask her to be my girlfriend until it seemed unbearable not to. And she told me in Minnesota and I told her right back, but that moment seemed to fade immediately from our collective consciousness of conversation topics. And now I feel that I have to take this leap, I have to go out on this limb, even if I think her head and heart are on the same page. And if things go wrong or I say the wrong thing or she isn't into how vulnerable I am or if I tire her with my burnt-out and jaded perspective of being alive, well then I'll accept that burden of being broken that I placed on those girls that came along before her.

Salute My Shorts

It's eighty degrees and the frog is finally starting to boil. All we can do now is enjoy the breeze that releases its strength at Devon and Broadway.
The Council meets tomorrow night and I can't help but notice this drinking habit becoming steadier every week. I may have finally broken out of the firm grasp of coffee and into soft caress of tea. It's been about 20 hours since my last cup, with was about four ounces big and three days old.
Andrew Jackson Jihad covered Hybrid Moments on Sunday night. I always enjoy a live rendition of a Misfits song.
Today might include my first trip to Reckless all year. The Menzingers, Andrew Bird, and Lucero are on my short list, which is quite long considering I shouldn't be spending any money. Well, it's not that-- I should be spending money, but on a Line6 M9. I'm tempted to throw that $400 onto an existing credit cards and remaking past mistakes.
What should I be talking about right now? School? Probably. Here it is: school and I still don't get along. There's a ton of books I want to read and none of them are relevant to the classes I'm taking. I have three five page papers to write that are all due a week from today. It's not too daunting of a task, but it will be when Sunday wakes up and my notebook is still crisp and unopened.
Elsie learned how to break out of the house, provided that the doors leading onto the tiny first floor balcony are open. Once in the backyard, she has learned how to operate the latch on the gate sans opposable thumbs.