"Get Me Some Ice Cream... Bitch"

For those of you who have not ever taken Halcyon, I highly recomend it. I don't even remember yesterday. I remember having surgery (specifically, when he was drilling a bolt into my skull. I laughed, and actually said "It's like my face is a tiny car"), I remember watching Wheel Of Fortune and I also remember telling my Mom that I've had a Moleskine notebook since before she was born. Besides that, I'm pretty foggy. Amazing.

Now, for those of you in Missouri who were hoping I would have some left over to sell, I'm afraid I already took it all. BUT, I do have lots of painkillers left over. They might be Codine. Maybe. I dont know. But get your wallets because finin to sell that shit as soon as I get back in town.

No more drugs! No More Booze! Ok, Maybe Just A Little Bit More

Ok, so detox officially starts.... NOW!

After Chicago, and then Becca Eden's 4 day 21st birthday extravaganza, I nearly died last week. I was going to start detox upon my arrival in Texas, but I also need some sun, so yesterday I got drunk at 11am by my pool. But today, I'm on my best behavior, switching to iced coffee instead of beer. One thing is for sure, I'm going to be one dark motherfucker when I get back to Columbia.

Also, I hung out last night with a girl who looks exactly like Kyra Knightly, only her british accent has been replaced with a southern one. Can you imagine!? Surely you can't. But oh, if you could! Between that accent and the amazing soft light coming from the pool, it was a total cute overload.

Fireworks And Drinking

So Becca and I were eating at Great Wall a couple weeks ago and we were talking about the Pitchfork Intonation Festival. She invited me to attend with her and her friend Hannah, and since Pitchfork had announced that Diplo was going to do a set, I had been wanting to go. So I went. In order to go, I had to Karl Rove the guys at my coffee shop, and basically quit on the spot because they were preventing me from having a much needed weekend away to clear my head and get hecka drunk, and I was not about to allow two Jordanian guys to keep me from going.

FRIDAY

After sleeping at Rosa's place on Thursday (on what I thought when I passed out was a bed and a pillow, and when I woke up realized was actually a floor and a pair of jeans) I went home, took a shower and then Becca came to pick me up and drive me to McDonald's because I needed Egg McMuffins real bad. We went to her place and watched about 10 minutes of "I <3 Huckabees" until her roommate Hannah came home and then we put our shit in the car and left for Chicago. On the way there, I sat in the backseat and DJ'd a little bit on my iPod, while Becca and Hannah smoked tons of pot. Becca and I discussed the idea of doing coke at some point during the weekend, an idea that Hannah fully supported. Also, this crazy yellow airplane was doing stunts over the highway, and we went to a Wendy's that is open 24 hours and you can smoke inside (Amazing!). We finally arrived in the Windy City and proceeded to get lost for like 45 minutes. This later became the theme of the weekend. I was fine with it though; I had never been to Chicago so I was soaking it up. We arrived at Marrie's apartment, which was amazing. Marrie goes to the Art Institute of Chicago, and lives in a 4 bedroom apartment with an amazing rooftop view of the Chicago skyline. They were throwing a party that night, so while they prepared Becca, Hannah and I went to a Mexican restaraunt called El Cid, which had food that wasn't fantastic, but the margaritas were decent and they didn't card us so it was pretty good. On the way home we picked up a couple bottles of Andre (The beer of champagnes) and went back to Marrie's place. The party was pretty mellow, but we chilled on the roof and lit sparklers and looked at the city. It was fun. I watched these really annoying people pour lines of coke into their drinks (I'm still not really sure that you're supposed to do that), and then some guy tried to moon the people downstairs by pressing his ass on the skylight, but totally broke the skylight and got his ass shredded by the broken plexiglass. Some other kids from Mizzou met us up at the party and we all had a slumber party in the living room.

SATURDAY

In the morning we woke up, and some people went to the festival but Becca, Hannah and I decided to skip the opening bands in favor of shopping. I went to H+M, Gucci, Channelle, some discount knock off place that sucked, Urban Outfitters, American Apparel, and Prada. I spent about $80 on clothes at H+M, and I look so fucking hot when I wear them. I seriously <3 that place. At Urban Outfitters I bought the Vice Do's And Dont's Book and proceeded to read it on the train all weekend. After walking around and arguing about where to eat lunch, we got on the train and went back to Marrie's to change and go to Intonation. Except we realized, after riding on the blue line of the El all the way downtown to the loop, and while starting to get on the red line, that we had no idea where the fuck we were going. We were on autopilot or some shit. So Becca says "Pitchfork says its off the green line Ashland stop." So we found the greenline, and went to Ashland. Except we went to the wrong one (there are two). The one we went to was way the fuck out on the edge of town. It sucked there. We heard a baby crying on the street, and Hannah instantly exclaimed that we were in the ghetto. I tried to argue that babies crying do not immediately qualify a place as the ghetto. Under this logic, maternity wards and airplanes should all have project housing. Still, the fact that we were the only white people there was not helping. We finally made it to the right place, and got our tickets and went inside to see Broken Social Scene play "KC Accidental" to finish their set. The Go! Team was up next, and we watched about half of their set before going to buy beer and check stuff out. We visited the Neighborhoodies tent where I proclaimed my love for them. I bought the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah cd from them, and Becca would proceed to spend $95 there over the weekend on various customized clothes. Also, when I talked about Williamsburg (something I do alot) they sort of laughed, probably because they all think it sucks there. I guess thats how its getting, where hating on Williamsburg is cooler than liking it. Williamsburg has jumped the shark? Who knows. We went to the record fair, where I finally found the M.I.A. LP and I also got a Daft Punk remix LP called Daft Club. The guys there were really nice, and said they would bring me M83's "Don't Save Us From The Flames" 12" with the Superpitcher remix on it, but the next day they said someone bought it from their store before they got back. We went to go watch the rest of the bands, as Prefuse 73 was taking the stage. They were ok, but we were far back so I couldn't see what the guy on the decks was doing and all the songs sounded way nuetered without the hop hop verses over them. Then came Death From Above 1979 who were good, even though I was slightly disappointed. I was just expecting the vocals to be better, less half assed. Tortoise was pretty cool, even though I had never heard them before. Still, Becca and Hannah wanted to leave so we went to find pizza. We got on a bus to get there, and wound up talking to some Canadians. They were very nice. After arriving there, Nick and rest of the CoMO crew met us up where we proceeded to eat a garbage pizza (pizza with everything). It was fucking delicious. Then we all piled in the car and drove back to Marrie's place. Nick and I embarked on a search for alcohol and wound up walking around for an hour. We worked our way so far into the hispanic district that there were no signs in english and every car that drove by was blasting Reggaeton. By the time we made it back, everyone was asleep.

SUNDAY

We woke up the next morning and went to eat breakfast at a place on Damen called Earwax, where I had a killer vegan chorizo burrito. God, it was so good. We got on the train and wandered over to the festival in time to catch Out Hud's set, which was fucking amazing. Nick Offer was dancing around like a crazy person, introduced the word "hecka" into my vocabulary, and made jokes about Teddy Grahams. When the crowd demanded more at the end of their set, they closed with this drum machine/bass jam session, that just killed it. Then we went and perused the record fair some more, and Becca and I hung out at the Neighborhoodies booth for about an hour while she had two shirts made. We walked back over to the stage to see Deerhoof, who were very very weird. While they played, we watched some girl who was on many many drugs successfully dance to the songs. I think the only way you can pull that shit off is if you are on mushrooms or acid or something. After Deerhoof, we wandered to the DJ tent to watch El-P play a bunch of 80's stuff. It was boring. So we hung out until about 7:30, when Diplo stepped behind the decks. I had been looking forward to this moment for weeks, and was suddenly flooded with fear that it wouldn't be as good. I was worried he would half assedly play 80's shit, and not do transitions, and not play any insane hip hop remixes. These fears were unfounded, and shit did Diplo prove them wrong. He started out with some hip hop jams, and a little Crunk. The transitions were rediculous. I seriously got weak in the knees every time he changed songs. After a few songs, he starts picking up speed and crowd gets more into it. He played a remix of Holla Back Girl, into the actual version of Holla Back Girl, into his remix of Holla Back Girl. God, it was insane. Then he kept picking it up. He dropped the new Missy Elliot single, and people lost they mind. As the crowd is at critical mass, the temperature is so fucking hot, and we're about tear the place down, he cuts out of a song into this fast dance/slightly techno beat. The beat loops a few times and then, out of fucking nowhere, you hear the falsetto wails of TV on the Radio's "Staring At The Sun." STARING AT THE FUCKING SUN! I turned to Becca, and we started seriously freaking out. I mean, I was just screaming for like 20 seconds. The crowd went fucking insane, everyone dancing as hard as they could, everyone dancing like Kaitlyn Stout. At first, I was so shocked I could barely stand. But I said to myself "this song needs to be danced to, get it together, and show these motherfuckers what it means when Diplo plays a dance remix of Staring At The Sun." And then I did. I seriously lost my shit. To this day, Becca and I cannot shut up about it. I still can't believe he did that. Then he dropped some baile funk, but the heat in the tent from all the people going insane must have melted his mixer, because the soundsystem completely died. 20 minutes later he got a new mixer and we resumed. The highlight of the second half of his set was deffinetly a three song sequence where he played: Bloc Party - Banquet (Phones Disco Edit), Outkast - Bombs Over Baghdad, and Le Tigre - Deceptacon. When he put on Deceptacon, everyone seriously lost their shit all over again. There is no song that pleases the indie crowd more than Deceptacon. Then he did an Encore, featuring The Ying Yang Twins' "Whisper Song," and then ended with "Galang" by M.I.A. For a while, we thought maybe she was around, since Diplo is romantically linked to her right now, and he said there would be a few surprises in store. Sadly, she did not make an appearance. But it was legendary, and the best part of the entire weekend. After his set I rushed up to the stage and asked him to make me a dubplate of the "Staring At The Sun" remix, but no dice. Then we walked over and caught the end of the Decemberists' set, the final band of the festival. At one point, Becca and I looked back and Hannah and the other CoMO kids were all holding roadflares. It was sort of weird, but then on second thought, not at all surprising. The Decemberists were adorable as always, and then we left and said goodbye to the CoMO crew as they headed home (Rumor has it that they got back to Columbia at 5am, driving straight from the festival). Then we got on a train, and got lost again. But then we figured it out and we went to the Damen area in search of food and found a spot called Flash Taco that had some pretty decent burritos. On the train home, we were sitting next to this really really cute hipster girl, who accidentally walked into our conversation about how a good shit is better than bad sex (It's true, and you know it). She told me that she hated men at that particular moment, and I said "Well thats ok, because I hated women last week." Turns out she had seen her ex for the first time since the breakup at Intonation, and he did a wonderful job of pulling her back in after she had spent weeks getting over him. I told her I knew what that was like. She explained to us that she was planning to become an angry bitter cat lady (like the one Austin had to live with). I told her about how I was planning to move to Russia, because I would fit in with all of the other people who were pissed off about how shitty their lives are. But then I explained that this will pass, that you will run out of negative energy, and that you will take a trip to Chicago in order to get over this person for a second time, and that everything will be ok someday even though you don't think it will/want it to be. She was very nice. And so cute! If I had not been with two girls, and if we had not smelled absolutely awful from being at a music festival all day, I think we totally could have had crazy rebound sex. Alas, it was not meant to be. We came back to Marrie's where I finished my burrito and then we went to sleep.

MONDAY

On Monday we woke up with plans for more shopping. I went to deposit money in the bank, and then we went to this awesome restaraunt in Chicago's ChinaTown. It was awesome, they had really good bubble tea. Then we went downtown to finish our shopping, and we went to Virgin Megastore so I could buy the Out Hud album and Diplo's album, called Florida. But as soon as I saw the vinyl section, I could not tear myself away. Those who know me know how dangerous I am in a Virgin Megastore. I wound up buying the M83 single I wanted, LCD Soundsystem's Daft Punk Is Playing At My House single with a Soulwax Shibuya remix on import, Out Hud's "Let Us Never Speak Of It Again" LP on vinyl, LCD Soundsystem's Losing My Edge/Beat Connection (Disco Dub Version) import single, Nine Inch Nails' "Hand That Feeds" single with the DFA remix on it, Diplo's "Florida" on cd/bonus DVD, and a black label no writing on it anywhere M.I.A. single that was marked as Bucky Done Gun. I'm thinking its the japanese import of the single, because while the American version is just Bucky Done Gun with a remix, it was rumored for a while that they were going to release "Bucky Done Gun" in japan with "10 Dollar" on the b-side, and then also include "URAQT" and "Lady Killer," two tracks that were not included on Arular, but can be found on M.I.A. and Diplo's "Piracy Funds Terrorism" Mixtape. The black label has two discs in it (weird!) so I think it has to be that. Hannah and Becca deserted me while I was in the record store in favor of a Bannana Republic/H+M one last gasp trip. We met up at the car on Erie avenue and started driving. After getting out of Chicago, I took over behind the wheel. Apparently, I took a wrong turn in Springfield and went East instead of West, (always getting lost!) and we didnt realize it until we were 30 miles out of Springfield when Becca announced that she had to pee. After we got turned around, and went to pee, Becca and Hannah both passed out so I put on the Album Leaf and stared at the moon. I was in my element, just me the road and the radio. I was loving it, until we hit Vandalia, Missouri and got pulled over by this cop. He noticed we were all from Texas, and asked why we didn't have accents. I just turned and looked him in the eyes, and in my best southern drawl said "well, I could if I wanted to." Thanks to my irresistable southern charm, he let us off with a warning. We pulled back into Columbia at 3am, and one of the better road trips of my life ended.

If You Were Me

If you were me, this is how you would spend your birthday. You would wake up at noon, but not get out of bed until 1pm. You would open your computer to find that 3 different people you knew in high school, and that you had not talked to in years, had sent you Facebook birthday wishes, and this just makes you sad. Your mother would send you an online greeting card that she thinks is funny, but actually isn't. She also has put $200 into your bank account. As soon as you are done with the greeting card, she would call you to wish you happy birthday and to tell you not to spend all of the money on records. You would nearly cry when she tries to convince you that you're twenties are great. She does not understand the things you are leaving behind.
You would go to do laundry down the street from the house you are staying in, but the owner of the Greek restaurant next door would inform you that the laundromat has been closed for months. So instead you would go to the other laundromat by Eastgate liquor, in the section of town that is less than pleasant to visit. The laundromat would be completely empty, as would the change machine. You would wrangle $3.00 in change from the liquor store, and then walk over to the UPS store and get another 4 quarters from them. As you leave, you would pause and remember the last time that you were in this UPS store.
At the laundromat you would chainsmoke while you make phonecalls to friends. A man in a hat designed to look as though it were cut from an actual American flag would come in with his girlfriend, change their clothes from the washer to the dryer and then they would sit out front and share a cup of yogurt. This man is missing many teeth. His girlfriend, who is apparently from Eastern Europe (mailorder?) would say to you "Your clothes... feenish."
"No," you would say to her, "Mine are on the other side, the far dryer." She would return to her boyfriend and her yogurt.
You would gather your clothes and leave, and as you are loading them into the car some of them would fall onto the ground in the parking lot. You would curse loudly, and hope that their newfound cleanliness has not been compromised.
You would go home, and take a shower, and then rush over to Panera and eat dinner by yourself. You would think it might be clever to take a cigarette and stick it in the top of your sandwich, like a candle. You would call it art, a reflection of this day, and of your attitude. Then you would think about how gross that would be, and that you still want to eat the sandwich. This, you would decide, would not be very clever after all.
You would go to work, where your boss would have a list written down of everything you had done wrong the night before. He would also tell you that everyone hates you, because you are "the new guy." While taking out the trash, you would step on a nail and it would go all the way through the sole of your shoe and into your foot. You would think of how perfect it would be, to end this day in the hospital. You would think of telling the story later, to your parents and friends. But then you would think that maybe it wasn't so bad, it didn't really go in too deep. And that nail looked pretty clean too. You would skip the hospital, and go drinking instead.
Rosa, currently the only other member of the Midnight Club would meet you in front of the coffee shop and the two of you would walk half a block to Teller's. The Postal Service album would be playing on the stereo, and you and Rosa would sing along loudly and annoy the other people in the bar. This album would make you simultaneously happy and sad. It would make you miss certain people, that you had almost invited to be part of the Midnight Club, but then you would think that it is better that this person is not there to see you like this. So drunk, so sad. She would only think you were being dramatic, putting on a performance for her.
There would be a cute girl sitting across from you, wearing a shirt that says "Rockets." You would curse yourself for not wearing the shirt that you have that says "Rockets" because that would be such an excellent conversation starter. She would smile at you, and then walk across the bar and hit on a frat guy in a blue shirt.
You would walk Rosa to her car, and then take out your headphones that had broken earlier this afternoon. You would walk down the street, past where she parks her car, past where he lives, and she would not be in either place. Just as well. You would go home and watch the end of a Kevin Smith documentary thing with your roommates, and then you would go to your room and pass out...

...That is, if you were me. But you're not.

I'm Sorry For The Things I've Done

I think I've got it figured out. I've figured out why all the walking, the running, the anger. It was all just a way of holding on to her, of keeping her close, at least in my head/heart. But it was all so negative, so pointless. All such a huge waste of energy. This time last year is when I really started to get depressed, over everything. I just lost all of my motivation. The same thing happened again today. I'm not happy, and I keep forgetting that I'm turning 20 on Tuesday. I don't know what I want anymore. I want nothing. It's a really scarry thing, to want nothing, especially when you've been reduced to nothing. It's so lonely. I've spent so much time, so much energy this year fighting. Fighting the passing of time, fighting the inevitable. Fighting the things she did, fighting the way those things made me feel. But the truth is that all of these things are things that happen. They happen, and you can't change any of it. Now I'm fighting to let go of those things, and I hope I still have the energy to do it.

Hello Hammerheads

So Wednesday, after much deliberation, barely nudged itself into the position of the worst day of my entire life. The thing that finally put it in the lead was the fact that my roommate Kyle kicked a foot stool onto my computer while I was at work, and now I'm operating in gimp mode. Still, here are some things:

- So full of hate and anger these days! I pace around downtown every day, looking for her. I dont know why. If I saw her, I wouldnt say anything. And why would you want to see someone you hate? I dont know. But I have to keep moving. I've run out of places to run to in my car, so instead there is just the constant walking.

- I work in a coffee shop now, and I already hate it.

- Every night I come home from work and I drink. I usually do this because it's easier to pass out than to stay up all night thinking about all of the awful things I want to say to her.

- Every night I play the lottery. I found the most amazing apartment ever, but its $1,100 a month. After much deliberation, we have decided that the only way for me to earn that much money that quickly would be through prostitution, selling drugs or winning the lottery. I have chosen the former, and more legal of those options.

- I havent won the lottery yet, but I did win $2 last night.

- "Some people try / to tell me why / I made up my mind and left her."

I Am Trying To Break Your Heart

Jesus, what a fucking day. So long! And not even close to being over! I need to go to chipotle.

The best/worst part of the day is that I cast off several demons from my shoulders this afternoon at lunch. I'm so close to being ok, I can actually see light at the end of the tunnel now. Of course, she's already fine with it. I hate her for being better at this than me. The downside to lunch was I found out alot of other things about her that I hate as well. She wants it all to be ok, for us to not hate each other. You know the scene at the end of Rules of Attraction, where Laura and Paul are walking in the snow, and you find out that they used to date before Paul came out? Yeah, she wants us to be like that. Maybe someday, but I dont know if thats going to happen soon. I sure hate her guts right now, and I can't see that changing. And if she doesnt like that, fucking tough. She doesn't get to have her cake and eat it too.

I'm A Loner Dottie, A Rebel

If you can imagine how surreal it would be to be at the last show the Get Up Kids will ever play, you will not be doing justice to how strange it was. Your imagination needs crutches, must be lead by the hand into this story. I will help you.

Imagine you will drive to Kansas City in 7 hours (A new world record!) and then, with nothing to do, you will feel thoroughly awful for several hours inside of a coffee shop. You cannot receive energy from the coffee, the brownie, or the stammering phone calls you are making to friends and family.

Imagine that you are in this theater, watching the most significant band of your youth make it's final stand, trying desperately to go out in a blaze of glory. You recognize this, and as you watch them you realize that not only are you saying goodbye to this band, but to your youth itself. You will be 20 in a week, and as this band dies so do all of the moments in cars with friends in which you sang these very songs, the nights you stayed up listening to "Valentine" and thinking of how many girls you would like to put it on a mixtape for. These moments will be taking their final bow at the end of the night aswell, so you must hastily say goodbye to them. Now, add to this image the fact that you are standing next to your ex-girlfriend, that you had run away from only three weeks before, and now it is your job to regulate these things. You must give ample attention to the stage, to honor the band and inturn honor yourself and the moments this band represents. You must also do your best to hold in your sadness/anger towards the ex-girlfriend, and make sure she doesn't see you cry when they play "I'll Catch You" during the second encore.

Imagine that after the show, she will give you your mail and you will drive to Columbia (You must never stop moving!) where you will pull a key out of a mailbox and enter a house and fall asleep in the backroom as though you live in this house, as though you built this house with your bare hands.

Imagine that this was the longest day of your life, and imagine your confusion at the fact that, even though there were several portions that were nearly unbearable, you loved it and mourned its loss when you woke in the morning.